The Incubus System Chapter 1199. The Center of Everything
The Incubus System Chapter 1199. The Center of Everything I coughed, hard. The taste of smoke and ash filled my mouth. My knees felt like je
The Incubus System Chapter 1199. The Center of Everything
I coughed, hard. The taste of smoke and ash filled my mouth. My knees felt like jelly. My wings flickered—more out of exhaustion than magic drain. Every part of me screamed, but my mind… was sharp.
I looked around. Rubble. Crushed demons. Cracked barriers. Mana sparks still fizzled in the air like broken fireworks.
But I didn’t care about any of that. I only had one thought.
“Dad…?”
I pushed up off the ground, boots scraping through broken stone. I turned in a slow circle, scanning through the haze. Panic tried to claw its way into my throat, but I crushed it down.
He couldn’t have—no.
And then I saw him.
Lord Damon.
Coughing. Just like me.
Not collapsed. Not unconscious. But slumped against the shattered remains of an iron outpost, his sword half-buried in the ground next to him. Blood trickled down his jaw, and he had more than a few deep cuts laced across his arms, but he was healing. Already regenerating.
I teleported instantly, appearing beside him in a flicker of black mist.
He tensed at first—instincts still on high alert—but then recognized me and exhaled.
“Still alive, I see,” he muttered.
“Barely,” I grunted, grabbing his arm and helping him up. His weight was heavier than I remembered. It was the cost. The core shielding drained both of us, and Beel’s explosion didn’t go easy on him either.
He stood with a slow groan, cracking his neck once before retrieving his blade.
I forced a smirk. “Well… not that bad, right?”
He raised an eyebrow. Blood smeared across his face.
“Zatan’s dead. Beel’s dead. So… we’re good, right?” I said, eyes flicking to the side where Tania and Kitty were leading their elite troops through the rubble, slicing down every fleeing demon like they were cleaning the field. “I mean, except for their followers. Those freaks are still scattering.”
I gestured toward a trio of demons trying to leap a crumbled wall—one got shredded by Tania’s shadow magic, veins bursting from the inside out. The second didn’t even make it over before Kitty, all teeth and claws, pounced with a guttural growl, slicing him in half mid-air.
But Damon didn’t respond.
He was still… watching. Still cautious. His posture was wrong. Not the posture of a man who just won.
“Hey,” I said. “They’re just stragglers. The real threats are down. This is cleanup.”
“No,” he finally said, voice low. Gravely. Too calm.
I frowned. “What do you mean? The rebellion’s dead. Beel’s down. Zatan was the core brain of this whole thing.”
He turned to me slowly, the fires of the capital reflecting in his eyes.
“Do you remember the story I told you?” he asked.
I blinked. “You’ve told me a lot of stories.”
He didn’t smile.
“About your grandfather. King Xenos.”
I gave him a look. “Which part? The part he f*cked a high angel? Or the part the angels kicked him back to the dark dimension?”
His eye twitched.
“No,” he said flatly. “The part where he used his soul core, sacrificed himself to break the border—the barrier the angels created to seal off the realms. All to rescue that half-brother of mine. Erebus.”
I stopped.
The memory clicked in my mind like a gear grinding into place.
“Oh,” I said, quieter now. “That part.”
Lord Damon exhaled sharply, his voice low but heavy.
“Beel just did the same thing.”
He didn’t need to say more.
The dots connected on their own.
Beel. Zatan. The rifts. The border.
The way Beel exploded—sacrificed his core. Not just to kill us. Not just to take out the capital.
No.
But to tear something open.
I inhaled sharply.
“The border…” I whispered. “It’s weakening, isn’t it? Between the human world and the demon realm.”
But it wasn’t Damon who answered.
A voice echoed inside my skull. Smooth. Quiet. And far too close.
‘No…’ it said. ‘It affects all three worlds. Not just humans and demons.’
Damon and I both turned toward the sound, instantly on alert.
Floating just above the cracked stone, framed by the haze of a dying battlefield—was a small figure.
That same damn eye. The one that had been haunting me. The one that watched me in my city. That watched Zatan die.
It hovered there in its miniature mode—smaller than my head, slowly rotating, unblinking, the same deep iris that shimmered with too much awareness.
“You can show up here now?” I asked flatly, my voice bone-dry.
The eye didn’t answer right away.
It just… hovered. Watching us.
Then, the voice returned.
‘I warned you. I told you I would watch you rise… or fall. And now, the border cracks.’
Damon’s eyes narrowed, his grip on his sword tightening.
“Are you on their side?” he asked.
The eye turned—ever so slightly—toward him.
‘I am not your enemy,’ it said. ‘Not yet.’
I stepped forward. “But you’re not a friend either.”
‘No. I am curious,’ it said.
Then it paused. Turned back to me.
‘And you… are at the center of everything now, Ethan.’
I clenched my jaw. Something in me burned—not rage. Not fear.
Just urgency.
The war wasn’t over.
It was changing.
“What do you mean I’m the center of everything?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. My throat still tasted like ash. My body screamed for rest. My wings barely flickered at my back, raw from the last burn.
The colossal eye hovered above the blood-soaked rubble, a silent sentinel. Then, like a patient god playing with ants, it answered.
‘You heard me. Beel’s final act… it didn’t just shake your capital. It cracked the Veil. All three realms felt it.’
My stomach dropped. “Three realms?” I echoed.
The eye's iris pulsed, once. ‘The human world. The demon world. And the Light Dimension.’
I blinked.
No. No, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
“You mean…” I started, voice hoarse. “The angels? You’re saying—now I got their eyes on me too?”