The Incubus System Chapter 1414. Unfinished Grief
The Incubus System Chapter 1414. Unfinished Grief
I leaned back again.
So that’s the board.
A grieving king who turned vengeance into policy.
A demon king cut off from his son.
An angel who was abandoned to suffer.
No wonder the borders feel unstable.
Because this isn’t about energy flow.
It’s about unfinished grief.
I exhaled slowly.
“Your husband,” I said quietly, “sounds more like a wrath demon than a light king.”
Her lips curved faintly. “You would not be entirely wrong.”
Larry muttered, “This is the most dramatic lunch I’ve ever had.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
My fries were getting cold.
Cosmic grudges. Dead angel lovers. Demon kings. Broken borders. And here I was with soggy fries trying to figure out how not to trigger an interdimensional war before midterms.
Yeah.
Totally normal Tuesday.
I leaned back in my chair slightly and rubbed my temple.
“So…” I said, staring down at the table for a second before looking back up at her. “The only thing we can really do is… hope his anger subsides?”
Even as the words left my mouth, they sounded weak.
Thousands of years.
If that kind of time didn’t dissolve hatred, what would?
Time doesn’t erase grudges like that.
It ferments them.
She didn’t look offended by the suggestion.
She just watched me carefully.
“Let us hope,” she said quietly, “that I can still negotiate with him.”
Hope.
Great strategy.
Step one: hope.
Step two: survive.
I dragged a hand down my face slowly.
“At least,” she continued, “the fact that he allowed me to stay here and observe you means that he still wants to negotiate.”
I cringed slightly.
“Yeah,” I said flatly. “About that.”
She tilted her head.
“The angels he sent yesterday,” I said calmly, “didn’t exactly scream negotiation.”
Larry nodded vigorously beside me. “Yeah those guys were more ‘grab him and drag him to heaven’ vibes.”
I kept my tone even.
“They were trying to catch me,” I continued. “Or kill me. I’m still not sure which.”
She didn’t deny it.
Which… was both reassuring and concerning.
Inside my head though?
Oh.
Inside my head there were so many comments waiting to escape.
‘Can I just steal you from your husband since he clearly doesn’t appreciate you?’
Or maybe…
‘Let’s simplify things.’
‘We bang.’
‘Peace treaty signed. On the bed.’
‘And your husband can go keep loving my grandmother’s ghost.’
Yeah.
Those thoughts were dangerously funny.
And catastrophically stupid.
So I kept my mouth shut.
Barely.
She watched me for a moment longer, like she could almost hear those thoughts anyway.
“I think,” she said gently, “that is all I can say for now.”
The milk tea cup rested between her fingers again.
“I hope you will do well,” she continued softly. “And that peace will come.”
Peace.
I nodded slowly.
But inside?
I cringed so hard I nearly folded in half.
What peace?
You want peace?
Your first move was sending angels to capture me.
My internal monologue was not impressed.
Right.
‘Calm down, Ethan. You’re not wrong. But screaming about it in the cafeteria won’t help.’
I leaned back and ran a hand through my hair.
Millennial level hatred doesn’t vanish because someone waves a “peace please” banner.
That kind of anger becomes culture.
My eyes drifted to the window for a second.
Sunlight poured in like nothing was wrong.
Students laughed two tables away.
Someone dropped a tray.
Life continued.
It almost felt surreal.
I looked back at her.
“You’re asking for patience,” I said quietly. “With a king who’s been angry for thousands of years.” I huffed softly. “That’s a tall order.”
Larry slurped the last of his soup.
“Honestly,” he said, “I’ve seen worse family drama.”
I stared at him.
“What?” He shrugged. “My aunt didn’t talk to my dad for fifteen years because of a barbecue incident.”
“This is slightly bigger than barbecue.”
“Emotionally the same energy.”
I rubbed my forehead again.
Why is he like this?
She didn’t interrupt our stupidity.
She just watched.
Observing.
Measuring.
Always measuring.
“You said you love your life,” she said after a moment.
I nodded.
“You do not wish to abandon it. And you will fight to protect it.”
Something warm flickered behind her eyes.
Not approval.
Recognition.
“That,” she said softly, “is what makes you dangerous.”
I snorted. “Dangerous because I like my house and my friends?”
“Dangerous because you refuse to abandon the human world.”
That landed heavier than expected.
Most beings with my power eventually choose a side.
Realm.
Identity.
Power.
But me?
I chose… humans.
And messy friendships.
And stupid domestic chaos.
Larry leaned back in his chair and stretched.
“So,” he said casually, “what happens now?”
She looked at him.
“You continue living.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You continue learning.”
He grimaced. “That part is negotiable.”
“And I continue observing,” she finished.
I pointed a fry at her. “That part I noticed.”
She almost smiled again.
Almost.
The tension eased slightly.
Not gone.
Just… manageable.
Larry suddenly leaned toward me.
“Bro.”
“What?”
“If she keeps sitting with us at lunch, the rumor mill is going to explode.”
I sighed.
He wasn’t wrong.
Students nearby were already sneaking glances.
Phones were definitely out.
Someone was absolutely texting about this right now.
Hot new professor having lunch with two idiots.
Fantastic headline.
I looked back at her.
“You realize you’re causing social chaos just by sitting here.”
“I am aware.”
“And?”
“And observation sometimes requires discomfort.”
I groaned softly. “Great.”
Larry pointed at me. “You invited her.”
“She invited us.”
“Semantics.”
The cafeteria noise swelled again.
But something in my chest had settled.
Not solved.
Just… steadier.
The situation wasn’t good.
But it wasn’t hopeless either.
Because if she was here…
If she was willing to talk…
Then the story wasn’t finished yet.
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Well,” I said lightly, “welcome to human lunch diplomacy.”
Larry nodded solemnly. “Step one: fries.”
I pointed at him. “Step two: don’t start a holy war before dessert.”
He grinned.
And across the table, the queen of the Light Realm quietly watched us like she was trying to understand a species she had never truly lived among.
Which, honestly?
Fair.
Because half the time, I don’t understand humans either.