The Incubus System Chapter 1382. Go Full Warlord

The Incubus System Chapter 1382. Go Full Warlord

She didn’t say anything right away.

Then, slowly, she nodded. “Makes sense.”

I glanced at her. “That’s why I came. I needed you to know. Not just to prep for another fight. But to… keep an eye on him. Keep him grounded.”

She walked to the fireplace, resting a hand on the edge of the mantle.

“And what about Lord Damon?” she asked. “Did you tell him already?”

I shook my head slowly. “Not yet.”

Her brows rose, surprised. “Why not?”

My gaze dropped. “…Because I know his temperament.”

“Damon?” she asked, voice threading between wariness and curiosity. “He’s never struck me as reckless.”

“He’s not,” I said quickly. “He’s never unreasonable. But that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. Especially when it comes to the Light.”

Mrs. Clea narrowed her eyes again, stepping away from the mantle. “You think he’ll take it personally?”

I looked at her, face calm but voice heavy. “The Light didn’t kill Xenos directly. But they drove him to it. You know the old stories, how Xenos carved a passage through the dimensions to let Damon cross over into the human world. How he died in the process.”

She nodded slowly.

I continued, “And why did he do that? Because the Angels closed the borders, and Erebus was still in the human world. So Xenos gave everything just to get him out.”

Mrs. Clea didn’t respond. Her fingers curled around the back of the armchair. Her grip was white-knuckled.

“Tell me that doesn’t leave a scar,” I said, voice low.

She huffed softly through her nose. “Your family is a mess.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I know.”

A silence settled.

Not empty. Not angry. Just… tired.

The kind of tired that came with holding too many secrets.

I ran a hand through my hair and looked at her again. “That’s why I didn’t tell Damon. Not yet. Because if he hears about the angels? He might go full warlord.”

“And what would you do if they hurt Larry?” she asked carefully.

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t need to.

The way my jaw clenched said enough.

She sighed. “Alright. I’ll keep him under tighter observation. I’ll make sure he’s surrounded. And I’ll prep a fallback plan if things go loud.”

“Thank you,” I said.

She looked at me again, more solemn now. “We’re not going to win this by ourselves.”

I nodded. “I know.”

Her gaze flicked to the window. “You know, I used to believe the angels had a moral compass. That they operated on law and justice.”

“And now?”

She gave me a smile. Cold. Tired. Honest. “Now I know they just hate things they can’t control.”

I laughed softly. “I also thought the same. They are the same… as us.”

She returned to her chair, but she didn’t sit this time. She rested her hand on the back of it, looking down at me like she was trying to measure something heavier than words.

“So… what next?” she asked.

I leaned back. Thought about it.

“I’m figuring it out,” I said honestly, voice low. “Really. One side of me doesn’t want this to spiral into a war. Not again. Not with angels. Not with demons. Not with mortals caught in the middle like tissue paper between blades.”

She watched me, saying nothing. Just letting me talk.

“But the other side?” I exhaled, slumping deeper into her couch. “The other side keeps asking, can I even stop it? Before it turns bad?”

A beat of silence.

“Yeah, I’m the demon prince,” I went on. “I act like I’ve got my shit together. I stand tall. Talk sharp. Flash a little aura, flex some teeth. Everyone looks and sees someone powerful, someone in control.”

I looked at her. And for once, I didn’t try to hide it.

“But I’m nineteen.”

Her expression didn’t change. But I could feel the weight of that number hanging in the room.

“Nineteen. No empire training. No formal education in diplomacy beyond knowing how to seduce someone into signing a contract with their thighs around my waist. I’ve read books, sure. But this?” I tapped the side of my head. “This is centuries. No…eternities of grudge. Light versus dark. Thrones that have never sat at the same table. And I’m supposed to be the one who what? Gets them to talk over tea and cookies?”

I snorted. “Yeah. Good luck.”

She stared at me for a moment, then said dryly, “So. No plan at all?”

“Well…” I dragged the word out, shrugging with mock nonchalance. “I’m planning to seduce the queen.”

She blinked.

Hard.

“…Huh?”

I grinned. “Seduce. You know. Charisma. Chest. Incubus package. Come on, seducing is technically a form of negotiation. I’m just using what I have.”

She stared at me like she wanted to throw the nearest candle at my face.

“…Ethan.”

“Listen.” I held up a finger. “I’m just saying… why not? If I can pull her to my side, it’s peace. No war. No mass slaughter. No divine nukes. Just a little… persuasion. Intimate negotiation.”

She rubbed her temples. “You’re impossible.”

“But you can’t deny it’s creative.”

“It’s… something.”

“Hey, it’s better than the apocalypse,” I said. “I’ll take ‘I seduced a high queen’ over ‘I accidentally triggered divine genocide’ any day.”

A pause.

Then I hesitated, really hesitated.

Like I’d just realized I was walking through a field full of emotional land mines and only now started checking for tripwires.

I scratched the back of my neck, avoided her eyes, and said carefully,

“…The problem is… she has a husband. The king of the Light Dimension.”

Clea almost facepalmed.

Almost.

But her hand stopped midair, hovering there like her entire being just short-circuited trying to process that one sentence.

Like she realized… somewhere in her mind, that slapping her own face wouldn’t actually reduce the damage I was capable of doing.

“Ethan,” she said slowly. “Seriously?”

I just lifted both hands, half-defensive, half-‘yeah I know I’m an idiot.’

“I know, okay? I know how it sounds.”

“You’re not just talking about seducing some celestial noble—”

“Technically, she’s more than noble. She’s the spiritual anchor of their law-based kingdom. Like… literal embodiment of their authority.”

“That makes it worse!”

I winced. “Yeah. It kinda does.”