Strongest Incubus System

Chapter 97: Civilization

After the fight, the road seemed quieter, as if even the forest had decided to respect the trail of bodies they had left behind. The wind died down, carrying only the metallic smell of blood already beginning to freeze on the snow.

Damon shoved his hands into the pockets of his makeshift cloak and whistled, striding after Ester. "Well, that was a warm welcome. I wonder if all travelers receive such a welcome."

"They were just bandits," Ester replied, without turning her head. Her voice was effortless, as if the confrontation had meant nothing to her. "Winter makes them hungry. They attack anything that seems to breathe."

"Mmm." Damon smiled, looking at his hands. He still remembered the strange sensation of ice coating his fists. Strange and... addictive.

Time passed slowly, but little by little the horizon began to change. The forest thinned, the trees became more spaced, and the distant sound of voices, wagon wheels, and hammers began to echo on the wind.

Damon looked up excitedly. "Look at that... civilization!"

Ahead, finally, the road opened up toward a town surrounded by low stone walls, covered in drifting snow. The main gate was open, guarded by two soldiers who seemed more concerned with keeping warm than keeping watch. Inside, the movement was intense: vendors shouting, children running, horses huffing smoke in the cold.

Ester stopped at the top of a small rise, surveying the town with calculating eyes.

"Hm. We’re much closer to the Duchy than I imagined."

Damon, who until then had only thought of mulled wine and a real bed, blinked in surprise. "The Duchy?"

He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. "Wait a minute... I’d forgotten. Why are we going there again?"

Ester glanced at him sideways, as if reminding him of something obvious. "To fulfill the mission we were given."

"Mission..." Damon repeated, clicking his tongue as if searching his memory. "Oh, right... the Countess."

"Countess Elizabeth," Ester corrected firmly. "We’re going to make the Duke understand that he must stop bothering her with his marriage proposals."

Damon raised his eyebrows. "Marriage, huh? A Duke wanting to marry the Countess... That sounds strange to me." He sighed theatrically, spreading his arms. "I mean, what would make such a powerful man insist so much?"

Ester didn’t hesitate. "Because Elizabeth isn’t just anyone."

There was weight in her words.

Damon, intrigued, stopped joking and focused on her. "What do you mean?"

Ester looked away at the city below, but her voice remained firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Elizabeth isn’t just a Countess. She was the Princess Consort of the kingdom."

Silence fell between them like a thunderbolt.

Damon blinked several times, trying to process what he’d heard. "Wait, wait..." He held up his hands. "Are you telling me that Countess Elizabeth... the same one who asked me to help her with some boring business... was a Princess?"

"Yes," Esther confirmed simply. "Princess Consort, to be exact."

Damon’s eyes widened, laughing in disbelief. "Good heavens... and here I thought she was just a rich, bored noblewoman."

His heart raced a little. Since his reincarnation, he’d never heard anything like this about Elizabeth. He’d always seen her as just that woman with impeccable posture, a calculating gaze, and a voice laden with authority. But now... now she had gained another dimension. A former Princess.

"That changes a lot..." he murmured, almost to himself.

Ester continued walking toward the city entrance, without turning around. "It changes. And it also explains why the Duke is so insistent. A union like that would give him not only prestige, but also political legitimacy."

Damon was still trying to piece things together. "So, basically, the guy wants to marry her so he can tell the world he has royal blood in his bed?"

"Roughly speaking, yes." Esther nodded coldly. "But Elizabeth refused. And now he’s pressuring her, insisting in... inconvenient ways."

Damon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hm. Makes sense. But..." He narrowed his eyes, curious. "Why didn’t she tell me this? I mean, if she’s so important, why didn’t she ever say anything?"

Esther glanced at him, her eyes as cold as ever. "Because it wasn’t your business."

"Ouch, that’s cold..." Damon put his hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt.

Damon put his hand to his chest pretending to be hurt, but Esther had already turned her back, walking down the slope towards the city gate.

"Let’s go," she said dryly, as if there was no room for jokes.

The blond man sighed dramatically and ran a few steps to catch up with her, his boots crunching in the hardened snow. "Alright, Madame Coldness. But at least there must be mulled wine inside, right?" he grinned slightly.

As they approached the gate, the two guards glanced at them just long enough to confirm they weren’t beggars or bandits, then returned to rubbing their thick-gloved hands near a smoking torch. There was no formality there—the city seemed more concerned with surviving the winter than maintaining rigid protocols.

Inside, the contrast was striking. The narrow streets were covered in trampled snow and mud, but the activity was intense. Carts loaded with firewood and bales of hay, merchants shouting about imported fabrics, hunters selling frozen prey, and children running among the adults, laughing as if the cold were just part of the game.

The smell of freshly baked bread and salted meat wafted from the taverns, mingling with the stench of stables. For Damon, it felt almost cozy after days in the forest.

"Ahhh..." he opened his arms, taking a deep breath. "The sweet aroma of civilization. A smell of sweat, smoke, and cheap promises!"

Ester raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment. Her eyes were attentive, scanning every detail, as if already calculating possible escape routes, observation points, and hidden risks.

Damon noticed, but preferred not to break the mood. He walked a few steps behind her, whistling and looking around. "You know... it’s funny. After almost freezing and fighting hungry bandits, a city like this seems like paradise."

"You only think about comfort," Ester replied, without looking away. "If you don’t learn to survive in hardship, you’ll be nothing but dead weight."

He chuckled. "Dead weight you didn’t want to leave behind in that blizzard, huh?" he teased, glancing at her sideways.

Ester paused for a second, staring at him as if she wanted to pierce him with her gaze. Then, she simply continued on her way, without answering.

Damon raised his hands, laughing to himself. "Okay, I understand. Sensitive subject."