The Incubus System Chapter 1474. Love Does Not Exist

The Incubus System Chapter 1474. Love Does Not Exist

Somehow…

That made her silent.

Not stunned silent. Not emotionally shaken silent. More like the kind of silence that came after a blade hit armor and didn’t bounce off cleanly. It lodged somewhere. Not deep enough to kill. Not shallow enough to ignore.

Lysathiel just stared at me.

And I couldn’t read her properly.

That bothered me.

A lot.

Her expression was weird. Controlled, yes, but underneath that control? There was something. Like she wanted to hate me. Or kill me. Or maybe scream at me until the cafeteria itself cracked open. Maybe all three. Honestly, with angels, emotional categories were always difficult. They looked majestic even while mentally committing homicide.

Larry sat beside me, very wisely quiet now, though his eyes kept moving between us like he was watching a bomb that hadn’t decided whether to explode yet.

Me?

I didn’t expect anything.

Not really.

I wasn’t trying to win. Not entirely. I wasn’t trying to make her blush like Astra or soften like Puriel. I wasn’t even trying to seduce her in the usual way.

That was the annoying part.

I just told her what I thought.

Honesty.

Raw.

Unfiltered.

Probably stupid.

Definitely dangerous.

Lysathiel finally moved. Just her hand, adjusting the cup near her tray by a few centimeters. A tiny movement. Too elegant. Too calm.

“You make him sound worse than he is,” she said.

Her voice was steady.

No anger.

No tremble.

Just… a statement.

“But to me, all of it is the same.”

I didn’t answer.

Her eyes stayed locked on mine.

“Love does not exist,” she continued. “Duty and responsibility do.”

The words hit weirdly.

Not hard.

Cold.

Like ice water poured slowly into my chest.

“I came to this realm to determine whether you are a threat or not,” she said. “That is all. What I do is according to law, rule, and what must be done.”

Her gaze didn’t flicker.

“My feelings are not the problem. Nor are they the point.”

She said it clearly.

Perfectly.

No stammer.

No defensive crack in her voice.

Just stone.

A queen giving a report.

A supervisor assessing an employee.

A judge reading out facts from a file.

And somehow?

That made me silent.

Actually silent.

Because okay.

I didn’t know what Aurelion did to her.

Didn’t know what the Light Dimension carved into her over centuries. Didn’t know how many times she had to swallow something personal until eventually she stopped tasting it.

But this?

This was not normal.

Not even for angels.

I knew angels could feel.

Puriel felt too much sometimes. Astra tried to pretend she didn’t, but her blush betrayed her every five seconds like a divine malfunction. Even the small angels I saw in the Light Realm had curiosity and fear and hesitation.

So Lysathiel saying feelings didn’t matter?

No.

That wasn’t nature.

That was damage dressed as discipline.

She tilted her head slightly.

“You didn’t say anything,” she said. “Cat got your tongue?”

My eyes lowered to my tray.

“No.”

I picked up my spoon again.

The food had gone lukewarm already.

I ate anyway.

Because I needed something to do with my hands.

Something normal.

Something that stopped me from saying the words pressing against the back of my teeth.

‘I pity you.’

I wanted to say it.

Really wanted to say it.

Not as an insult.

Not as superiority.

Just because that was honestly what I felt.

Pity.

For someone so beautiful, so powerful, so composed, sitting there explaining her own emotional starvation like it was proper governance.

But I knew better.

If I said that?

She’d be furious.

Not because it was false.

Because it would strip away the last piece of dignity she was using as armor.

So I kept quiet.

How was I supposed to say something she couldn’t even feel?

Or worse…

Something she did feel but refused to admit?

Then Larry’s voice came beside me.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.”

My spoon paused halfway to my mouth.

Oh no. No no no.

I turned my head slowly.

Larry was shaking his head.

Actually shaking his head.

Like a disappointed uncle in a family drama.

“I pity you.”

I froze.

Yep.

That was Larry.

Speak first.

Think later.

Emotional grenade launcher.

I looked at him with wide eyes that screamed, ‘Dude, I literally swallowed that exact sentence for survival reasons’.

But Larry wasn’t joking.

That was the strange part.

He looked serious.

Actually serious.

His usual laziness was gone. His shoulders were squared. His eyes fixed on Lysathiel with something that wasn’t fear, even though honestly? He probably should’ve been scared.

A normal human telling an angel queen he pitied her?

Bold.

Stupid.

Possibly suicidal.

Very Larry.

Lysathiel slowly shifted her gaze toward him.

“Excuse me?”

Larry didn’t back down.

“You just said you can’t feel,” he said. “Or maybe you don’t have the privilege to feel. Same difference.”

The cafeteria noise felt far away again.

Larry leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table. “How do you live like that?”

I pressed my lips together.

Yeah.

That hit home.

That was the thing I wanted to say.

The thing I stopped myself from saying because I knew it would hurt too much.

Larry just said it.

Clean.

Direct.

With zero self-preservation.

Lysathiel didn’t react for a few seconds. Then her eyes returned to me. “I suppose that is what you wanted to say too, hm?”

Her tone stayed calm.

Too calm.

Sharp woman.

I didn’t lie.

I nodded once. “Yeah.”

Larry glanced at me briefly.

I didn’t look away from Lysathiel.

Her expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes shifted. Tiny. Almost invisible.

Then she looked down at her tea.

“Because some jobs are better done without feeling.”

That sentence landed heavier than everything else.

Not because it was cruel.

Because it sounded practiced.

Like someone told her that long ago and she repeated it until it became a wall inside her.

Larry frowned. “That sounds like something people say right before they do something terrible.”