Strongest Incubus System

Damon continued his meal unhurriedly, savoring the warmth of the food while the tranquility of the morning lingered around them. The contrast between the intensity of the previous night and this simple, almost domestic moment was curious even to him. The kitchen, with its soft sounds and the lingering aroma of breakfast, seemed a place too far removed from conspiracies, magic, and political games.

He finished another piece of bread before speaking again.

”So the reception is tonight.”

Ingrivid nodded slightly.

”Yes.”

Damon rested his elbow on the table, looking at her with a more focused interest now.

”I imagine that means the activity at Arven Manor has already begun early this morning.”

”It began even before dawn.”

She replied directly, as always.

”Extra servants have been called in, kitchens are operating at full capacity, and guards are being repositioned to handle the influx of guests.”

Damon let out a small sound of approval. ”Controlled chaos.”

”Completely.”

He finished the rest of the meat on his plate before leaning back slightly in his chair.

”Perfect for someone to enter unnoticed.”

Ingrivid didn’t respond immediately this time. Her eyes lingered on him for a few seconds, as if assessing something beyond words.

”It won’t be that simple.”

Damon tilted his head slightly.

”No?”

She crossed her arms.

”Even with the increased movement, there are still checkpoints. Experienced guards. People who know every face that should be there.”

Damon smiled slightly.

”Then it’s good that I’m not just another face.”

Ingrivid maintained a neutral expression, but there was a slight hint of agreement there.

”You’ll have an entrance prepared.”

He raised an eyebrow.

”Already?”

”Yes.”

She made a small gesture with her hand.

”Lady Morgana already arranged everything before leaving.”

Damon chuckled softly.

”Of course she did.”

Ingrivid continued.

”You will be introduced as part of a group of invited fighters for entertainment.”

Damon leaned back in his chair.

”That still sounds fun.”

”Maybe.”

She replied, but her tone indicated she didn’t exactly share the same enthusiasm.

”But that also means you’ll be watched.”

Damon narrowed his eyes slightly.

”By whom?”

”By everyone.”

She answered simply.

”The public, the guards... and especially those who have an interest in maintaining control within the mansion.”

Damon was silent for a moment, absorbing it all.

Then he nodded slowly.

”So I shouldn’t just walk in... I should stand out enough to justify my presence.”

Ingrivid tilted her head slightly. ”Exactly.”

Damon smiled.

”That I know how to do.”

She stood up from her chair then, efficiently gathering some of the empty plates.

”The event starts at nightfall.”

She walked to the kitchen counter as she continued.

”But you won’t be entering with the main guests.”

Damon observed.

”And we will?”

”With the artists and wrestlers.”

She placed the plates in the sink before turning back to him.

”There will be a side entrance used for vendors and entertainment.”

Damon nodded slowly.

”Less attention.”

”Less formality.”

She finished.

Silence hung for a few seconds as Damon stood up from his chair, lightly wiping his hands.

”And until then?”

Ingrivid replied without hesitation.

”You wait.”

Damon let out a light sigh. ”Again.”

”Yes.”

She observed him with a steady gaze.

”But this time, prepared.”

Damon ran a hand through his hair, thoughtfully.

”Then we have a few hours.”

”A whole hour.”

He began to walk slowly around the kitchen, as if his body needed movement even though his mind was focused on planning.

”That means we still have time to adjust a few things.”

Ingrivid followed his movement with her eyes.

”Like what?”

Damon stopped near the door, looking back at her.

”My entrance. My behavior. And mainly...”

He paused briefly.

”...what I should look for first.”

Ingrivid didn’t answer immediately.

But this time, there was something different in her gaze.

Less distance.

More interest.

”Then use this time.”

She said finally.

Damon smiled slightly. ”I intend to.”

The day was only just beginning.

And that night promised to be anything but peaceful.

...

Damon left the kitchen with calm steps, but his mind was already far from that tranquil environment. The weight of what was to come was beginning to organize itself within him, not as anxiety, but as a cold and meticulous focus. Morgana’s mansion might offer temporary comfort, but Arven... Arven was something else entirely.

The corridors were busier now. Servants passed by carrying fabrics, boxes, utensils, and even decorative pieces that would probably be taken to the reception area. The sound of low voices and hurried footsteps created a kind of constant rhythm that filled the air.

Damon walked slowly, observing everything.

Nothing completely escaped his gaze.

Every detail, every movement, every pattern.

He turned left into one of the wider corridors, where large windows let the light flood the space. He paused there for a moment, lightly resting his hand on the windowsill as he observed the grounds outside the property. In the distance, it was possible to see the road leading back to the city of Arven, with some carriages passing slowly. ”Constant movement...”

He murmured to himself.

The reception was indeed attracting attention.

And that meant risk.

But also opportunity.

Damon closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath.

His body still carried the echoes of the previous night, but his mind was already completely elsewhere now. Cold. Calculating. Prepared.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a decision there.

He stepped away from the window and began to walk again.

This time, his destination was clear.

The training room.

The back of the property was much quieter. The contrast with the rest of the mansion was almost stark. There, there was no rushing, no voices, only the distant sound of the wind passing through the trees.

Damon pushed open the wooden door of the training room and entered.

The space was simple, but functional.

Reinforced floor.

Some weapons arranged on racks.

And enough space for free movement. Perfect.

He walked to the center of the room and stood still for a few seconds.

Then he took a deep breath.

A cold mist began to slowly rise around his feet.

The air inside the room cooled almost instantly.

Damon raised his right hand.

Small ice crystals began to form in the air, slowly swirling around his fingers.

”Control...”

He murmured.

The crystals expanded.

They multiplied.

But, unlike before, there was no explosion.

There was no loss.

Everything was contained.

Precise.

The ice molded itself exactly as he wanted.

He closed his hand.

The crystals disappeared in the same instant, absorbed back as if they had never existed.

Damon exhaled slowly.

”Better...”

He repeated the process.

And again.

And again.

More and more refined.

More and more controlled.

Time passed without him noticing.

Hours.

Perhaps.

Until the sound of the door opening again broke the silence.

Ingrivid.

She entered silently, as always.

Her eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, noticing the slight residue of ice in the air.

”You’re practicing control.”

Damon didn’t turn around immediately.

”I am.”

She took a few steps inside.

”It’s better.”

He gave a small, wry smile.

”I know.”

Damon finally turned to face her.

”How long?”

Ingrivid answered without hesitation.

”A few hours.”

He nodded.

”And the city?”

”Busier.”

She crossed her arms.

”Extra guards have already been positioned.” Damon took another deep breath.

”Perfect.”

Ingrivid watched him intently now.

”You seem different.”

He raised an eyebrow slightly.

”Different?”

”More... focused.”

Damon shrugged.

”I like knowing where I stand.”

She nodded slightly.

”That’s good.”

A brief silence settled between them.

Then Damon walked to one of the walls, picking up a simple sword that was leaning against it.

He twirled the weapon in his hand, testing its weight.

”Let’s review one more thing before tonight.”

Ingrivid tilted her head.

”What?”

Damon looked directly at her.

”Combat.”

Her eyes gleamed slightly.

”You want to fight now.”

He smiled.

”I want to make sure I’m ready for anything.” Ingrivid didn’t hesitate.

She walked to the weapons rack and picked up a sword as well.

Her posture changed instantly.

Steadier.

More lethal.

”Then come.”

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier.

Damon adjusted his posture, relaxed... but alert.

For a second, everything was in absolute silence.

Then—

The sound of metal echoed.

The blades met for the first time.

And the training began.

Outside, the sun was already beginning to slowly descend on the horizon.

Night was approaching.

And with it...

The beginning of the real game.

...

The metallic sound of the blades continued to echo through the training room for some time, rhythmic, precise, almost hypnotic. Damon and Ingrivid moved with efficiency and energy conservation, each strike more a test than brute force, more reading than aggression. His focus was evident, each movement calculated, each step positioned with intention. Ingrivid, for her part, maintained her usual composure, but there was a slight tension in her eyes, as if she were being forced to adapt more than she expected.

Time passed without them noticing.

Until—

Damon dodged a side blow and, in a fluid movement, locked her sword, pushing slightly just enough to break the rhythm. He didn’t attack immediately. He simply retreated half a step.

Silence.

Their breathing was controlled, but heavier than before.

Ingrivid lowered her sword first.

”That’s enough.”

Damon twirled the blade in his hand before lowering it as well.

”You’re going easy on me.”

She replied immediately.

”I’m not.”

He smiled slightly.

”Yes, you are.”

Ingrivid didn’t argue this time. She simply walked to the holster and returned the sword to its place with a firm movement.

”You’re ready.”

Damon watched her for a second before doing the same.

”That’s good to hear.”

She turned her face toward him.

”That wasn’t a compliment.”

He chuckled softly.

”I know.”

Silence returned for a moment, but this time there was something different about it.

Something more... dense.

Ingrivid was the first to speak again.

”The time is coming.”

Damon looked up.

The light coming through the windows of the room was no longer as bright as before.

The golden hue of dusk now dominated the room, casting longer shadows across the floor.

He took a deep breath.

”Finally.”

Ingrivid walked to the door.

”You must prepare.”

Damon followed behind her, leaving the training room.

The mansion’s corridors were even busier than before. Servants passed by carrying trays, fine fabrics, sealed boxes, and decorative arrangements. The pace had increased. It was no longer preparation... it was execution.

The reception was near.

As they walked, Damon slightly adjusted his shirt sleeve, his gaze attentive to everything around him, but without showing concern. His posture was relaxed, but there was something different about him now. Something sharper.

They climbed the stairs again.

”Your suit has already been prepared.”

Said Ingrivid as they walked down the second-floor corridor.

”Of course it has.”

He replied with a slightly amused tone.

She stopped before a door.

She opened it.

And made a small gesture for him to enter.

Damon entered the room.

On the bed, carefully arranged, was the set of clothes he would wear that night.

It wasn’t extravagant like that of nobles.

But it wasn’t simple either.

It was... functional.

Elegant in just the right measure.

Dark.

Discreet.

Perfect for someone who should be noticed... but not excessively remembered.

Damon approached the bed, his eyes scanning the outfit.

”She really thought of everything.”

Ingrivid remained near the door.

”Lady Morgana doesn’t usually leave loose ends.”

Damon picked up the top, examining the fabric between his fingers.

”I’m starting to notice.”

He began to change without haste.

The room remained silent as he put on each piece, adjusting the fit naturally, like someone accustomed to preparing for situations that demanded more than just appearance.

When he finished, he glanced quickly in the mirror.

The reflected image was different.

Less of a traveler.

More... a piece of a larger game.

He ran his hand through his hair, adjusting it simply.

”So?”

Ingrivid studied him for a few seconds.

”It’s suitable.”

Damon raised an eyebrow slightly.

”Suitable?”

She turned her face slightly.

”You don’t draw unnecessary attention.”

He smiled slightly.

”Perfect.”

Ingrivid then stepped away from the door.

”It’s time.”