The Incubus System Chapter 1266. Half Damon, Half Erebus?
The Incubus System Chapter 1266. Half Damon, Half Erebus?
Syntyche smirked as she casually activated her Demon’s Clothes skill—shadows peeling off the floor and wrapping around her like a living dress, silk-textured and high-slit, clinging to her curves in a way that screamed ‘yes-I-just-had-sex-and-I-look-fabulous-about-it.’
We walked out of her chamber like nothing happened.
The hallway was thankfully clean of judgmental servants. Either they’d fled, or they just knew better than to lock eyes with someone who just got caught balls-deep with the Spider Queen while glowing angel wings.
The living room was big—vaulted ceilings, obsidian pillars with dark green vines curling up their sides, and couches that were just shy of thrones. Web-patterned rugs, firelight flickering from torches, and the air smelled like honeyed wine and roasted almonds.
Servants bowed as we entered. Silent, professional. One poured crimson wine into goblets with a slight tremble.
Yeah.
They definitely heard everything.
Syntyche flopped onto the nearest velvet couch like a spoiled cat, crossing her legs and reaching for a glass. I took the one across from her. Azrael, still tense and vaguely smoldering, stood a moment longer before dropping into the seat beside me.
The silence stretched.
Azrael finally grunted, grabbed his goblet, and took a long drink like it might help process the last thirty minutes of insanity.
Then he set it down.
“So?” he said, staring straight at me. “Explain.”
His tone wasn’t angry now. Just… strained. Confused. Like a man who’d walked in expecting a report and instead got a d*ck-in-spider-queen sandwich with a side of divine revelation.
I exhaled. Leaned back.
Alright.
“So,” I started, voice low, “you already know I’m Lord Damon’s son.”
Azrael nodded slowly. “Yeah. That much was clear. You’ve got his attitude.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“And you killed Letos. Which—don’t get me wrong—I respect. That asshole once tried to kill Lilieth. Honestly, I never trusted that fake-mannered snake.”
I raised my glass. “Then we’re aligned on that.”
“But the angel thing,” Azrael said, eyes narrowing. “That I never saw coming. No one did. You—you—you’re Nephilim?”
“It’s complicated.”
“It is!” he growled.
I set my goblet down and rubbed the back of my neck. “Alright. So. I was raised in the human world.”
He blinked. “What?”
Syntyche sipped her wine, watching us like it was theatre. She didn’t interrupt—just silently judging us both.
“I didn’t grow up in the dark dimension,” I continued. “Or the Divine Peaks. I didn’t even know I wasn’t human until I almost hit my 19th birthday.”
Azrael blinked.
Hard.
“That… tracks.”
“Yeah. So anyway,” I went on, “you know Erebus, right?”
Azrael sat up straighter. “Erebus? The king’s brother? Of course I do. He died thousands of years ago. One of the true Nephilim. Powerful. Wild. Unstable.”
I gave him a look. “You know he was Nephilim?”
Azrael nodded. “Of course. Why?”
I met his eyes. “So… I’m his descendant.”
Azrael stared at me.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t breathe.
Just… stared.
Then his brain started whirring. I could see it. His eyes widened, then darted over my face like he was suddenly looking for features. Echoes. Traces. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then pointed at me like his hand forgot how words worked.
“Wait a minute,” he said finally. “Wait.”
He turned to Syntyche. “Is he serious?”
Syntyche just shrugged, sipping her wine. “Yup.”
Azrael looked back at me. “So… you’re not just Damon’s kid?”
I winced. “Half.”
“Half? What do you mean half?!”
I took another sip of wine, mostly to stall, then said, “So… Lord Damon’s child is still alive after Letos tried to assassinate her.”
Azrael’s brows furrowed. “You are his child.”
“Yeah. Kinda. Technically.”
“Explain!”
“Okay, okay.” I took a deep breath. “Lilieth saved me. I was dying. Soul breaking. No way back. But Damon’s power… his legacy... it was preserved. Stored. Waiting for an heir. Lilieth passed that on to me. So I’m… not born of Damon, exactly. But I inherited his essence. His son’s soul fragment. His title. His authority.”
Azrael just stared at me like I’d said I was also part goat.
“So you’re—what—half Damon, half Erebus?”
“Spiritually, yeah.”
“That’s not a thing!”
Syntyche spoke up again, annoyingly calm. “It is when Lilieth does it.”
Azrael let out a strangled sound and downed the rest of his wine in one angry gulp.
“That woman,” he muttered. “Never explains shit. Probably thought this was a great surprise.”
“She did call you ‘wrath incarnate with no filter’ once,” I added helpfully.
He looked like he was going to throw the goblet at me.
But instead, he slumped back into the couch and rubbed his eyes.
“So let me get this straight,” he muttered. “You were raised as a human. Almost died. Discovered you were an incubus prince. Killed a fallen archlord. F*cked the Spider Queen.”
“He f*cked Nefaris first,” Syntyche corrected gently.
“Right,” Azrael growled. “And you’re descended from Erebus. Inherited Damon son’s soul. Broke your seal. Ascended to Nephilim. And didn’t bother to tell any of this until I walked in on your divine d*ck still buried in someone.”
I paused.
Then nodded.
“…Yeah. That’s the general summary.”
Azrael stared at me for a long moment.
Then burst out laughing.
It started low. A disbelieving scoff. Then a snort. Then a full-on, wild, shoulder-shaking laugh that startled the servants and made Syntyche raise an eyebrow.
“Of course,” he said between wheezing. “Of course. It’s you. You’re the perfect combination of divine mistake and demonic scandal. You’re like someone took prophecy and wrapped it in a sex tape.”
“I mean… thank you?”
He pointed at me, still chuckling. “I don’t know if I should kill you or worship you.”
“Can we skip both and stick to drinking with me?”
Azrael grabbed the wine bottle, popped the cork with his thumb, and poured straight into his goblet. “You’ve got balls, Damian. And apparently wings. I’ll give you that.”
Syntyche leaned in, eyes glinting. “He’s got more than that.”
Azrael groaned.