The Incubus System Chapter 1490. We Stand with Him
The Incubus System Chapter 1490. We Stand with Him
Mrs.Clea’s PoV
She sat calmly in a fortified house next to Ethan’s home, serving tea to angels, with surveillance, laser traps, rune defenses, and a familiar eagle-child perched above them like a household guardian…
Chief of the Demon Hunter Association.
Mrs. Clea leaned back slightly. “If the Light wants to fight Ethan, you need to tell me.”
Astra’s brows furrowed. “You need to protect the human world?”
Mrs. Clea’s expression did not change. “And him.” The answer came immediately. “We stand with him.”
Astra stared at her. “Why?”
Mrs. Clea’s eyes sharpened slightly.
Astra continued, genuinely confused. “I thought humans disliked demons.”
Mrs. Clea gave a quiet laugh. “Oh, we do.”
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
“Most humans who know demons fear them. Hate them. Hunt them. And for good reason. Wild demons tear humans apart. Demon lords play with humans like livestock.”
Her voice cooled.
“I have buried too many people because of demons.”
The room went quiet.
Even the eagle familiar lowered her head slightly.
Mrs. Clea looked back at Astra. “But Ethan is also the one who protects us from them.”
Astra did not answer.
Puriel’s eyes softened.
Mrs. Clea’s voice became quieter. “And when wild demons come? When lords move? When things cross into this realm that humans cannot handle?” She tapped one finger lightly against her cup. “Ethan stands between us and them.”
Astra’s throat tightened.
It was strange.
Hearing Puriel defend Ethan was one thing.
Puriel loved him.
Hearing demon queens defend him was expected.
They desired him, claimed him, followed him.
But Mrs. Clea?
Human. Hunter. Chief.
She should have been his enemy by doctrine.
Yet here she was.
Saying ‘we stand with him’.
Mrs. Clea studied Astra carefully. “You look surprised.”
“I am,” Astra admitted.
“Good. It means you’re still capable of adjusting your judgment.”
Astra blinked.
That felt like an insult wrapped in advice.
Mrs. Clea took a sip of tea. “Listen, Miss. Astra. Humans don’t have the luxury of purity. We live between stronger things. Demons, angels, hunters, governments, old grudges we didn’t create.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“So we choose by action.”
Astra sat still.
“Ethan is dangerous,” Mrs. Clea said plainly.
Puriel did not deny it.
Neither did Astra.
“But dangerous is not the same as evil.”
Astra thought of Ethan standing in his living room.
Dangerous. Yes.
Evil? No.
Mrs. Clea continued, “If the Light dimension comes to erase him because he doesn’t fit your rules, then they become the threat to this world.”
Astra’s fingers curled slightly on her lap. “You would fight angels?”
Mrs. Clea smiled. Not cruelly. “If they threaten my people.”
Puriel lowered her eyes.
Astra felt the weight of those words settle across the room.
Ethan included.
Mrs. Clea knew exactly what she was saying.
Astra looked at Puriel. “You knew?”
Puriel nodded softly.
Across the room, the eagle familiar perched near the ceiling suddenly lifted his head.
Alan’s eyes sharpened.
His feathers bristled slightly.
Mrs. Clea noticed at once.
Her expression changed so subtly most people would have missed it. But Astra was not most people.
Something had been detected.
Mrs. Clea set her teacup down. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Puriel glanced at Alan, then at Mrs. Clea. “Is something wrong?”
“Not wrong,” Mrs. Clea said. “Just expected.”
That was not comforting.
She stood and walked toward the hallway with calm steps, leaving Astra and Puriel in the sitting room with tea, traps, and an eagle familiar whose eyes continued glowing faintly.
Astra watched her disappear.
Mrs. Clea moved past the hall, then entered her own room.
She closed the door behind her.
And there, standing near the window, was Ethan.
Fully clothed now.
Hair slightly damp, as if he had at least managed to wash his face or pretend to be civilized again. He wore a dark shirt and simple pants, but somehow the clothes did not return him completely to his student image.
He looked at Mrs. Clea and sighed. “You really brought her here.”
Mrs. Clea leaned back against the door. “Better than the street.”
Ethan huffed. “She was standing outside my wall.”
“Are you afraid she was spying on you?”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
Mrs. Clea’s lips curved faintly. “Convincing.”
“I mean it,” Ethan said, folding his arms. “Puriel already told me what happened. Via telepathy.”
“Everything?”
He paused.
His face twitched slightly. “Enough.”
Mrs. Clea smiled like she understood exactly what enough meant and was merciful enough not to say it aloud.
Ethan looked away first. “I’m just making sure she is… not misunderstanding me.” His voice lowered. “I’ve got enough of that.”
For a moment, Mrs. Clea’s amusement softened. Ethan was tired of being mistaken for a monster before anyone looked past his blood.
Mrs. Clea stepped closer. “She doesn’t seem like she misunderstands you.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Instead,” Mrs. Clea continued, “she looks like she has feelings for you.”
He did not deny it. He simply sighed again.
“I can see that.”
Mrs. Clea raised a brow. “You’re going to make your move?”
Ethan’s expression changed immediately.
“And make her the second Puriel?” he asked quietly. “Get her kicked from the Light Dimension because of me?”
Mrs. Clea said nothing.
Ethan looked toward the wall, as if he could see through it, back to the sitting room where Astra sat with too much dignity and too many unspoken questions.
“Oh please,” he murmured. “I’m not that cruel.”
Mrs. Clea did not answer at first.
She only looked at him.
Really looked.
Ethan stood near the window with his arms folded, his expression half-bored, half-tired, like he was trying to turn everything into sarcasm before it could become pain. That was his favorite trick. She knew that already. Smile before it hurts. Joke before it bleeds. Act like everything was annoying instead of heavy.
And for some reason, it made Mrs. Clea pause.
She had seen reports. She had seen damage. She had seen what happened when Ethan stopped holding back. Demon hunters whispered his name now with that strange mixture of fear, shame, and reluctant gratitude.
He was a nephilim.
But beneath all of that…
Renart.
Not in the face.