The Incubus System Chapter 1500. Choice I
The Incubus System Chapter 1500. Choice I
Lysathiel looked me over. “Better. You still feel wrong. But less openly wrong.”
“Thanks.”
She ignored me and began walking.
I followed.
At first, we moved through one of the outer streets. Angels glanced at us as we passed, but no one stopped us. Most of their gazes landed on Lysathiel first, recognized authority, then slid over me with curiosity hidden under politeness.
Ah yes.
The universal language of 'I am judging you, but gracefully'.
I kept my head slightly lowered and let the silver mask do its job.
The tower ahead rose taller than everything else.
White.
Gold.
Massive.
It stood at the center of the city like a blade of light piercing the sky. Around it floated rings of scripture and glowing chains, rotating slowly. The air near it pulsed with authority.
Royal tower.
Had to be.
I could feel it from here.
Walking there would take time.
A lot of time.
The street curved through plazas, bridges, and several checkpoints where angel guards stood with spears and politely lethal expressions.
I glanced at Lysathiel. “So we’re walking?”
She opened her wings.
Oh. Okay. Apparently not.
“Follow me.”
She launched upward.
I followed a second later.
Flying in the Light Dimension felt different.
In the Demon World, the air usually welcomed power. It was thick, dark, eager. Here, the sky resisted my demonic side subtly, like the wind itself kept asking for identification papers.
But my fake angel wings worked well enough.
I rose behind Lysathiel, gliding over the city.
And damn.
From above, it looked even more impressive.
The streets formed sacred patterns. Circles within circles. Lines connecting towers like sigils. The entire capital was basically a giant holy array disguised as urban planning.
Very extra.
We flew past the royal tower.
I noticed. “Uh.”
Lysathiel did not slow.
I looked back at the tower, then forward again. “Aren’t we going there?”
“No.”
My eyes narrowed.
Instead, she guided me toward a lower but wider structure near the inner district. It looked like a circular arena made of white stone and silver arches. Columns surrounded it. Floating platforms hovered above. Rows of empty seats curved around an open central ground.
A training ground? No.
A colosseum? Maybe.
It had that solemn, official feeling.
My instincts sharpened. Bad. Very bad.
We descended near the entrance.
The second my feet touched the stone platform, my demonic core tightened under the camouflage.
[Warning: Combat Array Detected]
[Structure Type: Martial Trial Ground]
[Active Wards: Suppression / Containment / Witnessing]
I looked at Lysathiel slowly. “Why did you bring me here?”
She did not answer immediately.
Okay.
That was not reassuring.
I shifted my stance just slightly. No claws. No aura. But ready. ‘Okay…’ I thought. ‘This could be a trap.’
I glanced at her.
No.
I glared at her.
The look said everything my mouth didn’t. ‘You brought me into a trap?’
Lysathiel’s expression tightened. “Ethan. This is—”
“I requested her.” The voice came from the arena floor.
I turned toward it.
There.
Standing in the center of the white stone ground.
Nathan.
Alive.
Unfortunately.
He held a sword in one hand.
Not one of his usual seven floating light swords.
One actual sword.
White blade.
Gold hilt.
Holy power running through it like veins.
His face looked the same, but not the same. Sharper.
His eyes carried a strange glow beneath the surface. Not fully blank, but not fully him either. Like someone had shoved light behind his pupils and called it salvation.
And behind his back…
One wing.
One angel wing.
It extended from his right side only, trembling faintly as if his body hadn’t learned how to carry it yet. Golden threads wrapped around the base, sinking into his shoulder and spine like chains disguised as blessing.
My mouth went dry. Then my eyes turned cold. “I guess the king already bestowed him the knife.”
Nathan’s fingers tightened on the sword. “I am not a knife.”
His voice echoed inside the colosseum. Too calm.
Not Nathan’s usual loud righteousness.
This was controlled.
Like someone had sanded down his anger and sharpened it into obedience.
I glanced at Lysathiel.
Her face was pale.
So she hadn’t known the details.
Good. Or bad?
Probably both.
“Nathan,” I called.
He lifted his chin. “Erebus.”
I almost winced.
Almost.
Because yup.
That name again.
My ancestor. The dead one. The guy apparently everyone in the Light Dimension still treated like he was one dramatic entrance away from ruining their day.
And honestly? I could understand it. If a legendary half-demon bloodline disaster once made Light Dimension lose sleep for generations, then seeing me probably felt like history kicking the door open while wearing a new jacket.
But still… Wrong guy.
Erebus was dead.
I was Ethan.
Damian.
Whatever name the demons decided to decorate me with this week.
But Nathan didn’t know. Aurelion probably didn’t fully know either, or refused to know, which was somehow worse.
Better that way.
If they wanted to believe I was Erebus, let them.
Dead ancestor identity theft was morally weird, yes, but much safer for me.
Nathan’s eyes narrowed behind the glow. “Or should I say…” His grip tightened around the sword. “The Great Demon?”
He said it with that dramatic tone too. Like he had discovered my true identity.
Like he had pulled the mask off the villain and found the monster underneath.
I held in a cringe.
Barely.
The vibe was right.
The name wasn’t.
Great Demon? Sure. Close enough.
Erebus? Not even close.
But I decided to play along.
Because if Nathan thought he had uncovered my grand ancient secret, he would keep looking in the wrong direction. He wouldn’t look at Ethan Strongheart. So I let my shoulders loosen.
Let my voice deepen a little behind the silver mask.
“You got me… Nathan.”
His eyes widened slightly.
Then his expression shifted into satisfaction.
He nodded repeatedly, like pieces in his head had finally clicked together exactly the way he wanted. “I knew it. I knew there was no way you were just a normal demon.”
I tilted my head. “That part was obvious.”