Strongest Incubus System

Chapter 371: Do you think this can control me?

The decision not to go to the mines immediately did not make anyone comfortable. It only made the situation less idiotic. In that mansion, that was already a practical victory.

In the following hours, the old wing was sealed again, but now for a different reason. It was no longer a place Morgana avoided because of pain. It was an investigation scene. Ingrivid placed two guards outside, Aria carried the documents to the archives with so much protection that it looked as if she were carrying a newborn made of paper, and Elizabeth ordered that all of Seraphine’s letters be copied before nightfall. The portrait of the former Duchess remained on the floor, turned toward the wall, as if even her image had lost the right to watch the house.

Damon returned to the room by Ester’s order, although "returned" was a generous way of saying he walked under surveillance to the bed. He did not complain as much as he could have. What he had felt before the map was still in his body. The elemental root no longer pulsed stronger, but it remained attentive, like an ear pressed against his chest. He felt it every time he took a deep breath: a vague direction, pulling north, not like a command, but like the memory of something that had not yet happened.

Ester noticed before he even sat down.

"You are thinking about the mines."

Damon sat on the edge of the bed. "You would be too."

"I am. The difference is that I think without wanting to enter them."

"I do not want to enter either."

Ester stared at him.

Damon sighed. "I do not want to enter without knowing what exists there."

"That is still wanting to enter."

"It is responsible wanting."

"That expression does not exist."

"It should."

Ester placed her medical bag on the table and pulled over a chair. Her face was less aggressive than before, but that did not mean calm. When she became too calm, Damon started to worry. Irritated Ester was predictable. Ester too calm usually meant she was calculating how many ways something could kill someone.

She held his wrist. "When you read the name on the map, your spiritual circulation changed."

"How much?"

"Enough for me to notice before ice appeared in the inkwell."

"That does not answer."

"Your Qi tried to leave through the meridians in your chest, not your hands. As if something were directly calling the root."

Damon was silent for a few seconds. "That is bad."

"Yes."

"I thought you would say it depends."

"I would if it did."

He looked at the window. The afternoon was clear, but the curtains filtered part of the light. Outside, the mansion moved in urgent, controlled steps. There was no shouting, no running, but everyone seemed to know that something larger had emerged. Havelock was imprisoned. Marius was talking. Caldrick was crying and talking even more. Valcair now had a name on the table. And the mines, which had once been an economic problem, had become the center of everything.

"Do you think this can control me?" Damon asked.

Ester took too long to answer.

He looked at her.

"I do not know," she said.

The honesty was worse than a denial.

Ester continued, without releasing his wrist. "I did not see signs of external control. Not like a spell, possession, or forced bond. But your body reacted without your conscious decision. That may be root instinct, elemental resonance, or some compatibility we still do not understand. The problem is that if there was already a reaction near the map, near the source it may be much stronger."

Damon absorbed that with forced calm. "Then I need to train before getting close."

"Yes."

"Fine control."

"Yes."

"Structured swords, peripheral containment, internal conduction."

"Yes."

"And sleep."

"Especially sleep."

He looked at her. "You were waiting for that part."

"It was the most important part."

Damon let out a low laugh. "You know you are becoming predictable?"

"Good. Maybe that way you will learn before I speak."

Before he could answer, someone knocked on the door. Ester stood first, as if any visit to Damon’s room were a potential threat. When she opened it, she found Aria on the other side, with three books held against her chest and an expression so alert she seemed about to explode.

"I found the list of dead miners," she said.

Damon stood.

Ester placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back onto the bed.

"Sitting," she ordered.

Aria entered and closed the door with her hip. "I did not know if I should take it first to Morgana or to you. Actually, I knew I should take it to Morgana, but she is with Elizabeth interrogating Marius, and Ingrivid is making that face like she is going to arrest me if I run down the corridor again."

Damon looked at the books. "How many?"

Aria lost part of her energy. Her face grew serious.

"Thirty-two."

Ester frowned. "Havelock said twenty-seven."

"Twenty-seven miners, three guards, one supervisor, and one unnamed person recorded only as ’arcane assistant.’ The official report says collapse from structural failure. The private report says something else."

Damon extended his hand. Aria hesitated for half a second, then handed him the open book. The pages had hurried notes, some stained, others copied from damaged reports. Damon read in silence.

The text was dry, administrative. Perhaps that was why it was worse.

Workers presented tremors after exposure to the fourth gallery. Two reported a heartbeat sound coming from the rock. One attempted to return alone to the lower chamber during the night. Found dead near the sealed entrance, body frozen internally, skin with no signs of external cold. Blue crystals formed in the eyes.

Damon stopped at that line.

"Crystals in the eyes," he said.

Aria nodded. "It appears in three cases. The private report calls it glacial contamination."

Ester took the book from him and read quickly. Her expression hardened with each line. "This is not mining. This is exposure to an unstable elemental core."

"An Underground Heart," Aria said.

Damon looked at his own hand. "And Seraphine wanted to take it out of there."

"Or control it," Ester said. "Sometimes removal is impossible, so nobles call it supervision."

Aria pulled out another document. "There is more. That Nera Solt wrote an observation after the expedition. It was not in the official report, of course. It was inside a hidden payment book. She said: ’The Heart is not ore. It is not an artifact. It is not a creature. It is a geological root of living cold. It reacts to presence, not tools.’"

The root in Damon’s chest pulsed.

Lightly.

But it pulsed.

Ester looked at him immediately. "Control."

He breathed. "I am controlling it."

Aria noticed the tension and lowered her voice a little. "There is a worse part."

Damon closed his eyes for an instant. "Of course there is."

"Nera wrote that the chamber seemed incomplete. As if the Heart were waiting for a missing piece to open completely."

The room went quiet.

Ester did not speak, but her hand returned to Damon’s wrist.

He did not need to ask what all of them were thinking. It was too obvious. Missing piece. Compatible host. Cold that does not die. Damon, with an elemental root planted in his chest and a newly awakened Celestial Ice Body, reacting to a map as if something beneath the earth were calling his name without knowing him.

"No," Ester said.

Damon looked at her.

"I did not even say anything."

"You do not need to. The answer is no."

Aria, this time, did not joke.

Damon slowly closed the book. "If this is incomplete and Valcair wants to complete it, they are going to try to use me."

"Yes," Ester said.

"Then pretending I do not exist will not work."

"No."

"And telling me to stay away forever will not either."

Ester clenched her jaw.

Damon spoke lower. "I am not saying I am going. I am saying they will come."

Aria hugged the books more tightly. "Valcair may not yet know about the reaction. But if Havelock suspected and manages to send a message..."

"He will not," Ester said.

"I hope not. But Havelock is not the only source. The incident at the registry office had guards, prisoners, servants, messengers. Information leaks."

Damon nodded. "Then we need to choose what Valcair will hear."

Aria looked at him with renewed interest. "You want to plant a rumor?"

"I want them to hear that I did not react to anything. That I am unstable, tired, and probably useless for anything delicate."

Ester narrowed her eyes. "The tired part is not a rumor."

"Thank you."

Aria began to smile. "That could work. If Valcair believes you are powerful, but unstable, perhaps they will not try to kidnap you immediately. They may seek another method or try to observe first."

"And that gives us time," Damon said.

Ester did not look satisfied, but she did not deny it either.

Aria was already thinking aloud. "We can let it leak that your presence at the registry office nearly destroyed important documents, that Morgana was irritated, that Ester forbade you from participating in the investigations. All technically close to the truth."

"Technically offensive," Damon said.

"Good rumors need seasoning."

"You enjoy this too much."

"I enjoy winning with incomplete sentences."

Ester crossed her arms. "Before spreading anything, Morgana and Elizabeth need to approve it."

Aria nodded quickly. "Of course. I am reckless, not suicidal."

Damon returned the book. "Show this to Morgana. But slowly."

"What do you mean?"

"She will see the names of the dead."

Aria looked at the book cover, and the excitement disappeared again. "Yes."

"Do not deliver it like a discovery. Deliver it like mourning."

The phrase caught Aria off guard. She stood still for an instant, then nodded with more seriousness than usual. "Right."

When she left, the room became quieter. Ester remained standing near the bed, looking at Damon as if trying to decide whether to push him to sleep or accept that the conversation was not over yet.

Damon spoke first. "What happens if I am compatible?"

"I do not know."

"Worst case."

"Damon."

"Worst case, Ester."

She took a deep breath, clearly hating the question. "Worst case? The Underground Heart uses you as a channel. Opens something in the mines, drains your root, alters your body, or tries to anchor itself in you. If it is a geological root of living cold, it may not think like a creature, but it can grow by instinct. And if it finds in you a better path than the rock, it may try to take that path."

Damon was quiet.

"Good to know."

"No, it is not good to know. It is horrible to know."

"It is better than ignoring it."

Ester sat again. Her exhaustion appeared suddenly, not only physical, but emotional. "I spent six months stopping the ice from killing you. Now there is a thing in a mine that may want to use precisely what kept you alive. I do not like any part of this."

Damon looked at her for a few seconds.

Then said, without irony: "Neither do I."

The simple answer seemed to disarm her a little.

He continued. "I do not want to die because of another power I do not understand. I also do not want to become Valcair’s tool, or open something that should remain buried. So I am going to do what you always say."

Ester raised an eyebrow. "Sleep?"

"Besides that."

"That alone would already be plenty."

"I am going to train properly."

She watched his face, searching for the hidden part of the promise, the opening where he would turn caution into a justification for recklessness. She did not find it as quickly as she expected.

"Training properly means I decide the limits."

"I know."

"It means stopping when I tell you."

"I know."

"It means not testing the bond alone in the garden."

Damon looked away.

Ester’s expression hardened. "Damon."

"I have not done it yet."

"Yet?"

"I am being honest."

"Honesty does not improve that sentence."

"I will not test it alone."

"Repeat it without sounding like you are negotiating with yourself."

Damon looked at her. "I will not test it alone."

Ester held his gaze for a few seconds before nodding. "Right."

On the other side of the mansion, hurried steps passed through the corridor. A voice called for Ingrivid. Another answered. The world kept moving. Damon felt that like a constant pressure. Every person there was doing their part. Aria with documents. Elizabeth with letters. Morgana with decisions that hurt. Ingrivid with security. Ester with him. And he, for now, needed to accept that his part was controlling the thing inside himself before someone tried to control it from outside.

By late afternoon, Morgana called a smaller meeting.

Damon was authorized to attend, as long as he did not stand for too long. Ester made a point of saying that in front of everyone, perhaps to embarrass him preventively. He accepted with moderate dignity. Aria presented the list of the thirty-two dead, this time without enthusiasm, reading the names one by one. Morgana listened without interruption. When Aria finished, the room was heavy.

"These families were deceived," Morgana said.

Ingrivid answered quietly. "Yes."

"I want the full names. Living relatives. Compensation owed. And I want the official report corrected."

Elizabeth looked at her. "That could open legal responsibility against Arven."

"Arven is already responsible, even if the guilt was hers." Morgana placed her hand on the report. "I will not rebuild this house on a lie."

Damon said nothing, but felt something change in the room. Not a great political turn, not a victory against Valcair, but something more basic. Morgana had decided that Arven would not be saved by hiding its own dead. That would cost money, prestige, and perhaps legal ammunition for their enemies. Even so, no one contested it.

Aria moved on to the technical terms. "Regarding the Underground Heart, I found four recurring expressions: living cold, mineral root, heartbeat of the earth, and choice of conductor. The word host appears only in Seraphine’s letters. In Nera’s reports, she uses ’conductor.’"

"Difference?" Ingrivid asked.

"Large," Elizabeth said. "Host implies possession or containment. Conductor implies passage."

Damon looked at the map. "Then Valcair may not want me to carry it. They may want me to open the way."

Ester did not like the phrase. No one did.

Morgana folded her arms. "Then Damon’s suggested rumor will be useful. Valcair needs to believe he is unsuitable for any delicate operation. Tired, unstable, too dangerous to use."

Aria raised her hand. "I can plant that without making it look planted."

Elizabeth nodded. "Do it carefully. Nothing that weakens our public position. Only enough to reach the right ears."

"Selective rumor gardening," Aria said.

Ester murmured, "I still hate that expression."

Morgana looked at Damon. "And you?"

"Me?"

"Can you accept being seen as unstable and useless for a while?"

Damon thought about the question. Pride gave an immediate answer, obviously offensive. The slightly more intelligent part of him ignored it.

"Yes."

Aria blinked. "No joke?"

"I am saving energy."

Ester pointed at him. "That is the spirit."

Morgana nodded. "Then this is what we will do. Before any trip to the mines, we will have three things: complete maps, a defined team, and some way to prevent the Heart from using Damon as a channel."

"That third one sounds difficult," Aria said.

"That is why it comes before the trip."

Damon looked at Ester. "Do you have any idea?"

Ester took a moment. "Perhaps. I need to study the structure of your meridians and create a kind of flow lock. Something that allows you to cut the connection if the root responds too strongly."

"Like a valve?"

"More like an internal blade."

Damon liked that less. "That name is uncomfortable."

"Good. You will take it seriously."

Elizabeth stood. "Meanwhile, I will dig deeper into Valcair. If Seraphine is involved, we need to understand her resources, allies, and vulnerabilities. Old houses always have cracks. They are only better at hiding them."

Ingrivid touched the map of the northern routes. "And I will prepare a small team. Not to descend. To observe, confirm guards, road conditions, and the presence of foreigners."

Morgana looked at everyone. "No one acts alone. No one mentions the Heart outside this room. And if Valcair tries direct contact, I want to know before any response."

Everyone nodded.

Even Damon.

The meeting ended with less humor than the others. Not because of a lack of trust, but because the problem had changed scale. Havelock could be imprisoned. Debts could be renegotiated. Documents could be copied. But a living thing beneath the earth, responding to Damon, was different. Too ancient, too unknown, and perhaps too patient.

Later, Damon returned to the garden alone, though under the condition that he remain visible from the window where Ester could see him. He sat on the ground, breathed slowly, and created a small line of ice in his palm. Not a sword. Not a weapon. Only a simple structure, with a center, crosspieces, and an outer layer.

Then he created another around his wrist.

A first attempt at a lock.

Fragile.

Crooked.

But his.

The root pulsed in the distance, as if noticing.

Damon closed his fingers, kept the cold inside, and did not answer the call.

Not yet.