The Incubus System Chapter 1243. Spider Queen's Territory

The Incubus System Chapter 1243. Spider Queen's Territory

I frowned slightly. “None inside the city?”

“Negative,” he said. “Licheri’s inner perimeter held. They didn’t breach past the outer trade wall. All remaining stragglers are outside city borders now.”

“Good work,” I said quietly.

Leon looked at me. “They’re thinning out. We just need to keep pressure.”

I nodded. “Keep squads in rotation. No solo patrols. If they’re desperate, they’ll get clever.”

“Understood.”

I turned to my desk.

And there—on my empty desk—was Licheri.

The actual city core.

Which currently looked like a sentient glowing jellybean. Milky white. He was rolling lazily back and forth across my paperwork pile, leaving faint streaks of ectoplasm and no regrets.

“I’m bored,” Licheri sang. “So bored. So BORED—Damian, entertain meeeee—”

I squinted. “Are you singing to me?”

He rolled to a stop and looked at me with the approximation of eyes, pulsing faintly like a moody lava lamp. “I saved your city from invasion. I deserve gifts.”

I raised a brow. “What gifts? You already turned a bunch of demons into jelly yesterday. That was your gift.”

Licheri wobbled indignantly. “No, no, no. That was me doing my job. Gifts are for after. Like a thank-you. Or a trophy. Or something shiny.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’re literally the city. You don’t even have hands. What kind of gift are you gonna use?”

“I don’t know!” he chirped, spinning in a lazy circle across my desk like a bored child throwing a tantrum in slow motion. “But I need something. I’m a hero!”

Licheri puffed up proudly, glowing a little brighter like a self-congratulatory glowstick. “A real hero! I need something for hero.”

I gave him a long look, deadpan. “What is it then?”

He puffed even harder. A tiny spark of mana fizzled off his jelly surface like glitter under stress. “More appreciation! C’mon. Praise me!”

I blinked slowly.

“Thank you,” I said flatly. “You absolute hero.”

Licheri did a victory spin across the desk. “YESSSSS.”

Curtis facepalmed. “He’s going to be insufferable all day.”

“I’m already insufferable!” Licheri chirped. “But now I have validation.”

Leon just sighed.

“Alright,” I said. “The city’s fine. You two keep managing things while I take care of something... complicated.”

Curtis paused mid-scroll through his mana-pad, eyes flicking up behind his glasses. “Define ‘complicated.’”

I didn’t answer right away.

I mean, how do you explain ‘I need to go seduce the spider queen for intel because I forgot to grab a murder sword during my last battle’ in a way that sounds even remotely professional?

I stayed quiet.

Licheri didn’t.

He was pulsing softly on my desk, still radiating the smug afterglow of being complimented a couple minutes ago. But the moment I hesitated, he stilled.

Like a blob-shaped predator catching a scent.

His glow dimmed. He turned slowly toward me—if a jellybean-shaped city core could be said to “turn”—and said with dangerous innocence, “Oh.”

Curtis squinted. “What oh.”

Licheri was quiet for a beat longer, his glow flickering gently. Then he said it.

“Ohhh. You’re going to bang the spider queen.”

Curtis stopped breathing for a second.

Leon made a choking noise and walked straight into the bookshelf.

I sighed and rubbed my temple. Yeah, he could read my mind so… of course, he would say it.

“You forgot Zatan’s weapon,” he continued, unbothered. “And now you’re going to use seduction to coax information from one of your harem queens. Again.”

“Hey,” I said sharply, “I was in the middle of a battle. You know, dying, bleeding, throwing hellfire. I didn’t exactly stop to pick up souvenirs.”

Licheri gave me a long, slow, deeply disappointed look. The kind your mom gives you when you bring home a report card with nothing but the words “he tried.”

“Still forgot the sword,” he muttered.

“I remembered eventually.”

“After pizza.”

I gritted my teeth. Of course, that bastard knew about that too.

Curtis cleared his throat. “So... complicated means ‘harem business and international demonic espionage through pillow talk’ again.”

“Basically,” I muttered.

Leon nodded since this wasn’t his first time hearing that sentence.

I turned to Licheri, already halfway through making a new portal.

“If you have any reports, send them telepathically,” I said. “Otherwise, hold things down here until I’m back.”

Licheri bounced once. “Don’t die.”

“As if I will die because of it!”

The portal crackled open, light twisting in that elegant, deep-violet way only interdimensional travel ever looked. I stepped in without a glance back.

And landed with a soft thunk at the gates of Syntyche’s palace.

The Spider Queen’s domain.

Second time here.

Still just as ridiculous.

The atmosphere was thick with pheromonal haze—spicy, heady, rich with magic and silk-scented danger. Towering obsidian spires pierced the clouds, wrapped in silver silk that shimmered like oil under moonlight. Shadows moved where nothing stood. It was like the whole place was half-aware, watching, breathing.

The front gate loomed in front of me—giant and laced with metallic web designs.

I took one step forward.

“Hello,” I called, voice calm. Casual. Not threatening.

Which, in hindsight, probably didn’t help because…

The guards reacted instantly.

Spears snapped up. Every single one of them locked onto me like I was a nuclear warhead.

“HALT!” one barked. “State your business!”

Another stepped forward, eyeing my wings. “What the hell is that?! What are you?!”

I blinked.

Right. I forgot I had the whole angel-wing-Nephilim-sin-daddy aesthetic going on.

One golden wing. One black. Horns. Tail. But no Demonic aura at all.

I narrowed my eyes, unimpressed.

“You don’t know me?” I asked.

They stiffened. Eyed each other.

“I’m the demon prince.” I said, flatly.

Their weapons didn’t lower.

Of course not. Bureaucracy.

“You’re not on the gate list,” one of them said. “We were not informed of your arrival.”

I stepped closer and was about to activated my Demonic Aura.

The entire line of guards flinched.

Then there was a bang from the side hallway.

A door slammed open.

And a very out-of-breath butler came rushing out, cloak flapping, clipboard flying from his hands.

“LET HIM IN!” he cried, panicked. “THE QUEEN HAS ALREADY GIVEN HER PERMISSION—YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOTS—”