After four days
Aiden woke up fresh—no, not just fresh. He felt renewed. Like the dawn itself had chosen him, sliding its golden warmth across his skin with deliberate affection.
His breath ca slow, steady, as if the night had exhaled him into existence again. The air inside the infirmary felt charged, the faint scent of herbs clinging to the walls mixing with the subtle sweetness of linen washed too many tis.
His lips curled, just slightly. The morning had sothing strange about it. An undertone. A rhythm. A quiet, pulsing sense that perhaps—for once—the day would not be an enemy.
It was his final day here. The thought carried a peculiar weight, like the last page of a long, unpleasant Chapter.
The father from the church had arrived early, his robes whispering as he moved through the room, offering a curt nod and the confirmation:
"You’ll be fine now, my son."
Fine. Such a small word, so inadequate for what he really felt.
He peeled away the bandages from his right eye, the layers coming off with a whispering pull, leaving a faint tingle in their absence. He leaned toward the mirror at his bedside. The glass was slightly warped at the edges, but it showed him enough.
There, at the corner of his iris, faint but unmistakable, was the glow.
Like a battery bar pulsing beneath the surface—
[Ember: 98%]
His lips tilted upward into sothing not entirely human.
’Of course it would be full.’
Every night, without fail, Lady Flora—no, ’dear Flora’—had co to him. The thought sent a ripple of mory through him, sharp and warm all at once.
Her perfu lingering in the folds of his clothes. The heat of her breath when she thought she was leaning too close. The shiver in her hands when she touched him.
He didn’t mind those visits.
Not one bit.
If anything, he had wanted to ’welco her more’. To pull her closer until she beca part of him. To taste her until there was nothing left unclaid.
Even now, the ghost of her scent clung stubbornly to the collar of his shirt, faint and intoxicating, like a forbidden promise.
And she—Flora of the Leonidus line—was not just any noble. Her blood carried density, richness, an elegance that translated into his ember like the finest wine sliding down his throat.
It was pure.
So pure it made him hungrier even as it satisfied him.
A delicacy. A rare, irreplaceable dish he had no intention of giving up.
He rolled his shoulders, the faint stretch of muscle pulling against the thin fabric of the infirmary shirt. His hunger pangs, once sharp and constant, had slowed. Even with his "Aura of Allure" used repeatedly over these last nights, his reserves had remained full.
That purity was buying him ti.
And ti, for him, ant leverage.
[Notification]
[Jas has been chard.]
[Simon has been chard.]
[Lidia has been chard.]
[Lisa has been chard.]
[Sansa has been chard.]
[Lela...]
[Vo...]
[S...]
[...]
[...]
"Ohhhh," he breathed, the sound slipping into a grin. "John and Conish did it..."
He could still rember the conversation—two days prior—when he’d given them instructions. They’d been scrubbing the water reservoir, unaware of the true purpose.
He’d simply told them to drop in a vial after the cleaning was complete. A vial of his own blood, laced with subtle herbs to mask its origin.
Now, the reservoir fed the mansion. And the mansion fed him.
"...Second step... accomplished."
He unwound the final bandage from around his head. The cool air kissed his skin where it had been trapped for days. His face stared back at him from the mirror—no longer dulled by exhaustion.
His lips, though still marked from damage, had taken on a certain curve, an almost deliberate imperfection. His white hair, wild and unkempt, sohow fell into place without effort. His jawline cut clean in the dim light, his nose sharp, balanced.
But it was the eyes.
Gold. Deep enough that he felt for a mont he could hypnotize himself.
A shadow of amusent passed over him. Was he becoming overconfident? Or had he simply grown into what he already was?
"Sothing changed... System."
_______
[System]
Aiden von Lucus
Bloodline: High Incubus (Unknown Tier)
Mana: Low → Mid-low
Grade: C-Class
Personality: Fresh / Uncontrollably Horny
Skills:
Possession Kiss (High Tier)
Aura of Allure (High Tier)
Emotion Amplification (Unlocked)
Dreamweaving (Locked)
Temptation Echo (Locked)
Beauty: srizing (Mythical Tier)
Talent: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Ember: 98% Filled
Chard Possession:Jas, Simon, Lidia, Lisa, Leo...
Temporary Possession:Louise, Alina, John
Full Possession:Flora (Seeded), Akidna (Seeded), Amber (Seeded), Conish
Leashed Possession:None
Skills Added:Hyper Mind (from Akidna), Light Healing (from Amber), Lion Bane (from Flora)
________
He scanned the readout slowly, savoring it.
"My mana increased... ember tank’s bigger too? Beauty’s ’srizing’ now... Mythical tier?"
He looked up from the invisible screen back into the mirror. His reflection didn’t feel mythical to him. He’d always been attractive, yes. But now, there was sothing unnerving about the symtry. As if even the imperfections had been sculpted to lure.
"Oohhh... new skill," he murmured, tapping the interface.
---
[Emotion Amplification]
As a divine high incubus, son of Lilith, Emotional Amplification skill intensifies emotions—lust, fear, or rage—via demonic blood. It passively heightens feelings in a 15-foot radius or targets one person with a focused gaze, fueled by Lilith’s primal essence. It sways passionate targets but drains ember and risks her influence. Strong-willed or holy beings resist.
---
"This... could be useful." His tone was almost a purr.
The thought of weaving that kind of intensity into soone’s mind—into Flora’s mind—made his ember burn hotter.
Then it ca.
The voice.
At first, soft. Like an echo down a hallway.
"...Aiden."
He kept reading the skill description.
"...Aiden."
Louder this ti.
"Aiden!"
He sighed, already knowing who it was.
"...Aiden!!"
"Stop shouting, old man!" His voice cracked with irritation, the echo of his earlier good mood fading.
The high butler appeared in the doorway, his breath carrying the faint scent of pipe smoke and pressed starch. "Aiden—oh, you’re awake. Good. Fast—change into this." He thrust a folded uniform into Aiden’s hands.
Aiden ran his fingers over the fabric. Fine weave. Crisp black and white. The kind given to mansion staff with rank—those with their own quarters, better food, better pay. Akidna had told him about it.
"...Why?"
"Don’t ’why’ , kid. The lord’s coming. We’re short on hands." His voice left no room for protest.
The na dropped into the air like a weight.
The lord of the Leonidus family.
Purest lion’s bloodline.
Augustus D Leonidus
"Ohh....finally." Aiden voiced.
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