The Incubus System Chapter 1364. You Defy The Will of The King?
The Incubus System Chapter 1364. You Defy The Will of The King?
“I refuse,” I said, voice low but sharp. “Talk is fine. But I’m not going to be your prisoner.”
The middle one cocked his head. Wings flared slightly, those metallic-feathered monstrosities catching the glow of the dome above us. His face was still mostly obscured by that sculpted, blade-like helm. But I didn’t need to see his expression.
They didn’t like that.
“You refuse…” he echoed, like the concept itself was foreign. “You defy the will of the King?”
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms. “No. I just defy the bullshit.”
They stepped closer. The chain floated with them, its links humming in the air, light pulsing like a heartbeat. I didn’t move. Not yet. My entire body was tensed beneath my clothes, but I didn’t summon my blades. Not yet.
“I don’t want to fight,” I said, slowly. “I’ve had enough of it. I saved the human realm. You’re supposed to be the ones protecting it, aren’t you?”
There was a pause. Tight. Cold. The chain stopped mid-air, wavering.
Then the left one said flatly, “Not our problem anymore.”
And the right followed. “We fulfilled our duty. The seals were set. The borders closed. The rest… falls to man.”
I huffed. That was it? Centuries of divine guardianship and they just… clocked out? “So you gave up. Just like that.”
“It is not our concern,” the middle one said. “Our orders are higher. Balance must be maintained.”
This again.
I muttered, “I see.” But my tone wasn’t understanding. It was tired. “I just want peace. Without hurting myself. Without being hunted or chained or dissected for existing.”
“If you want peace,” the leader replied, “then come with us. Submit yourself. Your existence is—”
“—throwing the balance,” I finished for him. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it.”
They didn’t react.
But I did.
My eyes narrowed. I could feel it now. That shift in me. That old, sick twist in the pit of my stomach whenever someone tried to tell me I shouldn’t exist. That I was wrong. Broken. Dangerous. The identity crisis… Just like when I first turned into an incubus.
Back then? I might’ve crumbled. Might’ve lost myself. Gotten swallowed in that identity crisis spiral of "what am I" and "why me" and "how do I fix this." But now?
Now… not so much.
Because I remembered Tiffany’s laughter. The way Lilith held my hand and embrance me. Celia’s delicious fried rice and her nags. Lord Damon’s lectures disguised as conversations. How my girls looked at me… not as a creature split between hell and heaven, but as me. Their person. Their prince. Their pain in the ass. And their peace.
They gave me something stronger than balance.
They gave me value.
I used to think I was trapped. Between the light and the dark. Pulled in opposite directions by birthright, fate, bloodlines I never asked for. But now?
I just wanted to exist.
Not as a pawn. Not as a weapon.
Just… me.
It made me wonder if I could make a peaceful world for it.
Ironically? That mindset was getting closer to Erebus than I liked. His obsession with fusing all three realms? Yeah. I kinda got it now. Not that I’d ever take his path. I’d never tear the world apart for my peace.
But that didn’t mean I’d give it up either.
Without a word, I lifted my hand.
The air behind me split.
“Nightmare…”
My demonic sword materialized, long, jagged, humming with a pulse that wasn’t just power, it was rage restrained. Black steel with veins of red. The smell of smoke and burned ozone filled the dome.
And then… on my other side?
“Redemption.”
The white blade flickered into place, less imposing, but sharp. Delicate in design. Cracked down the middle where it had once broken. But still holding. Still mine. Still usable.
The angels flinched.
“Is that your answer?” the leader asked. Not angry. Just… resigned.
I looked at them. Really looked. “You talk about balance like it’s math. Like I’m an error in the system. But I’m not a number. I’m not a variable.”
Both blades hovered in my hands now. Balanced. Like me.
“I want to live,” I said. “I want to be free.”
Their wings snapped open in unison. Light burst from behind them, forming sigils in the air. The dome above us shimmered. Holy pressure dropped like a weight across my shoulders.
“You leave us no choice,” the center said.
“You never gave me one.”
And then… they moved.
The chains came first, snapping toward me like serpents made of sunlight.
I twisted, ducked, letting Nightmare slice through one of the links mid-air. The backlash rang like a church bell, sharp and punishing.
Redemption caught the second one. The light seared against the crack, but I held on. Let it hurt. Let it remind me this was real.
My feet hit the ground hard. Dust kicked up. The dome echoed with impact.
They were fast. Mechanical. No wasted motion.
The left one dove first, spear forming in hand from a burst of compressed light. I spun, let Nightmare block it. The clash sent out a shockwave, but my stance held. Barely.
The right one flanked, wings sweeping in, blades forming from his feathers.
I raised Redemption, parried, but almost got grazed along my ribs.
Shit.
I backstepped, using the momentum to lift into the air. My own wings burst open. Not neat and golden, but black and silver, streaked with veins of radiant energy, corrupted and beautiful.
The angels followed. Of course they did.
They never stopped. Never hesitated.
The fight was brutal. Blinding. They were holy weapons. I was something else entirely.
And somewhere in that chaos, between their judgment and my defiance, I felt it again.
That hunger. Not Lust. Not Wrath. Something deeper.
The desire to prove I belonged here.
To fight not for power… but for permission to stay.
To live.
My sword clanged against a shield-wing.
I spun mid-air, kicked off the force, reversed my grip, and stabbed downward. Nightmare found flesh. Or… whatever they had for it. One screamed. The sound wasn’t human.
I didn’t stop.
Redemption flared in my left hand, brighter than it had before. Like even my fractured angelic side knew this mattered. That I couldn’t back down.