Strongest Incubus System

Damon awoke without any sense of transition.

There was no interrupted dream. There was no slow recovery of consciousness that normally accompanies a sleeping body. One instant there was darkness.

The next, there was only white.

Absolute white.

The horizon disappeared in all directions under a silent storm of fine snow. There was no sun. There was no moon. There were no visible clouds. The sky was just a pale vastness that merged with the ground itself, transforming the entire world into an infinite expanse of ice and emptiness.

For a few seconds he remained motionless.

Confused.

Observing.

Trying to understand.

Then he took a step.

His foot sank several inches into the snow.

The sound was muffled.

Soft.

Strangely distant.

Damon frowned.

One more step.

Then another.

The snow continued to crumble under his weight as icy winds swept across the endless landscape.

But something was wrong.

Very wrong.

He should feel cold.

Anyone should feel cold.

This place felt colder than any mountain he had ever visited. Colder than any winter. Colder than any glacial technique he had ever used.

And yet...

Nothing.

No sensation.

No discomfort.

No pain.

It was like walking within the very concept of winter without suffering any consequences.

Damon slowed his pace.

He looked at his own hands.

And immediately froze.

Literally.

Not because of the environment.

Because of what he saw.

His fingers looked different.

The skin was absurdly pale.

Tiny crystals crawled across parts of his knuckles.

Bluish veins could be seen beneath the surface of his skin like frozen rivers.

He turned his hands over.

He observed his wrists.

Then he looked at his own arms.

The cold seemed to exist there.

Inside him.

But without causing pain.

Without causing suffering.

As if his body had become part of that world.

”What happened to me?”

His voice echoed weakly in the white vastness.

No answer came.

Only the distant sound of the wind.

Then he noticed something else.

His hair.

Instinctively he brought one hand to his head.

Strands slipped through his fingers.

Long.

Very long.

Much longer than they should be.

Damon pulled a strand forward.

White.

Completely white.

There wasn’t even a single trace of its original color.

The strands of hair hung down to the base of his back, swaying gently in the freezing wind.

He stood there for a few seconds, staring at it.

Trying to understand.

Trying to organize his thoughts.

Trying to figure out if it was some kind of dream.

Or perhaps a hallucination caused by the coma.

Or perhaps...

Something worse.

A small blue light appeared before his eyes.

Damon instinctively recoiled.

The light flickered.

Then words began to emerge within it.

Not written on air.

Nor engraved on any surface.

They simply existed.

Like concepts being inserted directly into his mind.

[You have entered a memory of the Celestial Ice Demon.]

The silence seemed to deepen.

Damon read the sentence once.

Then again.

Then a third.

None of the readings made it any more logical.

”Celestial Ice Demon?”

The name alone was absurd.

But the feeling that arose in his chest was worse.

Because some part of him recognized it.

Not rationally.

Not through memories.

But through instinct.

As if something buried deep within his existence had reacted to those words. An uncomfortable feeling ran down his spine.

The world remained silent.

Still.

Until something finally changed.

Very far away.

Almost at the edge of his vision.

A figure appeared.

Damon immediately raised his head.

The silhouette moved slowly through the white storm.

Step by step.

Without haste.

Without hesitation.

Like someone walking along a road they knew perfectly.

He remained motionless, watching.

The figure gradually approached.

The snow swirled around her.

The winds seemed to follow her.

And as the distance decreased, Damon began to see details.

It was a woman.

Young.

Or at least she looked young.

But there was something profoundly wrong with her appearance.

Her skin possessed an almost impossible pallor.

White.

Not a pallor caused by disease.

Not even for lack of sun.

It was the same shade as the snow itself.

As if she had been born from that frozen world.

Her hair was equally white.

Long.

Silky.

Moving slowly in the wind as it fell well below her waist.

Her eyes caught his attention immediately.

Blue.

But not just blue.

They were so clear they seemed made of liquid ice.

Beautiful.

Hypnotizing.

And strangely empty.

Like a winter sky incapable of producing warmth.

She wore a white hanfu adorned with delicate jade-green details that ran along the sleeves and collar in elegant patterns.

The clothes would be beautiful under any circumstances.

But in that environment they seemed almost unreal.

Like a painting walking through the snow.

Then Damon realized the worst part.

She was freezing.

Not metaphorically.

Not even partially.

Her body seemed to be slowly consumed by ice.

Small crystalline layers ran down her neck.

They climbed up her jaw.

They ran down her fingers.

Parts of her skin took on a translucent appearance before returning to normal.

Then they froze again.

As if her body were waging a silent war against something impossible to stop.

Her breathing also seemed erratic.

Irregular.

Trembling.

Heavy.

Each exhalation released dense clouds of white vapor.

Like someone constantly fighting to stay alive.

Even so, she kept walking.

Without complaining.

Without hesitating.

Without showing pain.

Just moving forward.

Step after step.

Step after step.

Step after step.

Damon watched this for several seconds.

Then he tried to speak.

”Hey.”

Nothing.

The woman kept walking.

She didn’t even blink.

”Can you hear me?”

No reaction.

He raised his voice.

”Hey!”

Still nothing.

She walked through the snow as if he didn’t exist.

As if he were invisible.

Or worse.

As if he were incapable of existing in that place.

Damon watched the woman pass a few meters away.

His eyes followed every detail.

Her clothes.

Her hair.

Her unsteady breathing.

The crystals slowly growing on her skin.

The strange determination on her face.

Then something caught his attention.

The footprints.

Or rather.

The absence of them.

She walked on the snow.

But she left no marks.

None.

Not a single one.

The ground remained untouched after her passage.

As if she weren’t a person.

As if she were just an echo.

A recording.

A memory.

Damon looked again at the words that still lingered in his mind.

[You entered a memory of the Celestial Ice Demon.]

Understanding slowly dawned on him.

”A memory...”

His gaze returned to the woman.

”...she is the memory.”

The figure continued moving forward.

Always in the same direction.

Always at the same speed.

As if incapable of acting any other way.

Damon decided to follow her.

Not because he had answers.

But because she was the only thing that existed in that world.

And because some part of him already suspected that this was no coincidence.

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he advanced.

The wind gradually increased.

But the woman remained the same.

Neither faster.

Nor slower.

Just moving forward.

The more he observed her, the more uncomfortable Damon became.

Because that person seemed familiar.

Not her face.

Nor her identity.

But something about her.

A feeling.

A presence.

The same feeling he had experienced inside Arven Manor.

The instant he lost control.

The instant something responded.

The instant his Qi ceased to feel entirely his own.

The thought made him stop.

His heart raced.

Slowly.

A possibility began to emerge.

A possibility he didn’t like.

Not one bit.

The woman continued walking.

Then, for the first time, something appeared on the horizon.

Very distant.

A structure.

Dark.

Enormous.

Partially hidden by the snow.

Damon squinted.

Trying to see better.

As they approached, the shape became clearer.

It was a mountain.

But not an ordinary mountain.

The entire surface seemed made of black ice.

Gigantic crystals emerged from its slopes.

Impossible formations stretched for miles.

And at the top...

There was something built.

A palace.

Or perhaps a fortress.

Damon couldn’t quite make it out.

But it was gigantic.

Ancient.

Monumental.

A structure that seemed to have been erected to defy the very sky.

The woman continued walking toward him.

Without hesitation.

Without fear.

Like someone returning home.

The wind picked up again.

The snow intensified.

The whole world seemed to vibrate under an invisible pressure.

Then Damon felt something.

For the first time since waking up in that place.

An emotion.

Not his.

Hers.

A sadness so profound it seemed capable of freezing oceans.

A loneliness so overwhelming it made death itself insignificant.

The feeling pierced his chest like a blade.

Brutal.

Sudden.

Unbearable.

He staggered.

He put his hand to his chest.

Trying to catch his breath.

The feeling vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

But it left a mark.

An understanding.

That woman had been suffering.

For a long time.

Too long.

Far beyond what any human being should endure.

And yet...

She kept walking.

Alone.

Always forward.

Without stopping.

Without resting.

Like someone condemned to follow a path they could never abandon.

Damon watched her figure slowly disappear amidst the growing storm.

And for the first time since waking up in that place, he was certain of one thing.

That wasn’t just a memory.

It was a warning.

And whatever the Celestial Ice Demon was...

He wasn’t finished with it yet.