Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users
Chapter 203: Find Out About The Silent Crescent’s Recent Cases

Chapter 203: Find Out About The Silent Crescent’s Recent Cases

The meeting tent wasn’t big. Just a thick, reinforced canvas pitched near the back of the medical zone. Nothing flashy. No signs. No outside guards.

But everyone inside knew what it was for.

Six people sat around a wide table—old metal, dented at the corners, with scuff marks from years of folding and refolding.

The air inside smelled like coffee that had been reheated one too many times and papers that had been held too tightly.

Vice Director Hannick stood near the far end, hands behind his back. Not speaking. Just listening.

The others did the talking.

"We lost control of two entire zones," one of the exam planners said, voice tense. "That wasn’t a regular migration pattern. Something triggered them. Something big."

"The mana spikes weren’t random," another added, flipping through a thin stack of heat maps. "They hit at the exact moment the outer cult locations went dark. That’s not a coincidence."

"But we have no proof," the logistics coordinator said, rubbing her eyes. "No survivors from the altars. No solid footage. Just shadows and blackouts."

"We have student footage," someone else pointed out.

"Of beasts running and students screaming," she shot back. "Nothing actionable. Nothing clean."

Someone slid a tablet to the center of the table.

A short clip played.

One of the shuttles, aerial view. Zoomed in on a clearing. A bronze-rank beast. Its body split apart in a single clean arc. The moment before its death was too fast to track.

No explosion. No fireball. No flashy skill lighting up the trees.

Just Ethan, standing in the clearing. Calm. Unmoved.

The beast collapsed in the next frame.

They watched it again.

Then one more time.

No one said anything.

Not for a while.

Finally, the examiner in charge of student placement leaned forward. He looked younger than the rest, but more tired.

"We didn’t assign him a rank."

"We didn’t assign any of them," the woman next to him muttered. "They were late entries. Placed in Group F because the board assumed they wouldn’t last long."

Another screen showed the five of them—Ethan, Sera, the twins, Mei—moving through the forest with a calm that didn’t fit the chaos around them.

Pulling students out. Redirecting beasts. Coordinated without comms.

"Do we know who they are?" someone asked, softer now.

"Officially? Ethan Nocturne, other than that, we have nothing as his file has been locked up, and it seems that the lock is pretty high up."

"Unofficially?"

No answer.

Just silence.

Then a low beep echoed from the far wall—someone’s private comm line lighting up.

The logistics coordinator excused herself and stepped out.

Hannick moved for the first time.

He tapped the edge of the screen and pointed at a paused frame where Sera stood in front of a fallen beast, one hand resting near her weapon, not even out of breath.

He looked across the table, his voice flat.

"I’ve worked this region for over ten years. I’ve seen beast swarms, dungeon leaks, awakened elites... but I’ve never seen coordination like that from unranked students."

A pause.

"Never."

Across the room, one of the advisors shifted in his chair, then leaned in.

"You’re saying we escalate this?"

"I’m saying," Hannick replied, "we mark them. Quietly. Not as threats. Not yet. But if something bigger happens later and we didn’t pay attention now..."

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t need to.

They all got the point.

Another screen flickered near the corner—feed from an encrypted drone log.

Just coordinates. Dead zones where they can still see the beasts, and some of the students who couldn’t make it.

"Half the riot disappeared," someone muttered. "Leaving only bodies, and a lot of problems."

"We don’t have the resources to investigate," a woman said. "And if we push for answers, we’ll trigger attention from outside."

"Which we don’t want," Hannick agreed. "So we keep it internal. No press releases. No external reports. Only direct board oversight."

Then he looked across the room and nodded once toward the back corner, where a quiet figure had been standing the whole time.

Sera’s brother.

His uniform was plain. His rank wasn’t displayed. But everyone in the tent knew who he was.

"You sure you don’t want to be the one in charge?" Hannick said. "Mr. President."

"No need, my coming in would make it public before we can understand the situation," he replied.

"I see, but what do you think happened?" Hannick said. "You must have some clues, right?"

A moment passed.

Then Sera’s brother stepped forward, looking at the paused clip of Ethan again.

"And what exactly do you want me to say?"

Hannick’s voice dropped slightly.

"I don’t know, but even you must understand that this is not normal and something that someone did on purpose, but we are not sure why."

He didn’t wait for an answer. He just turned back toward the data sheets being compiled and marked the file with a red tag.

Temporary priority.

Non-disruptive watch.

As Sera’s brother left the tent, the others went quiet again.

Work resumed, but slower now.

More careful.

Outside, the light had started to dim.

The afternoon sun dipped behind one of the portable energy towers. Wind tugged lightly at the edge of the supply tents.

Sera’s brother didn’t pause.

He walked to a private comm station near the edge of the perimeter wall, keyed in an old code, and waited as the signal bounced through three encrypted channels.

Finally, a woman’s voice picked up.

She didn’t say hello.

He didn’t introduce himself.

"I need someone," he said, "quiet."

"I’m listening," the woman replied.

"I want you to go look into what is happening with the Silent Crescent legion and why they are here."

"You trust me with this?"

"No. But you’re the only one who’ll do it without getting yourself killed."

A pause.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, which is why I need you to do this before they take action, as I don’t think this will be their last appearance."

Another pause. Then the woman’s tone changed. Slightly sharper.

"Understood."

The call ended without another word.

And the base slowly returned to the rhythm of clean-up—stretcher counts, mana patches, field debriefs—but something new sat under it all now.

Not panic.

Not fear.

Just the quiet tension of people who had seen something they weren’t ready for.

And who had no idea what came next.

But they knew it wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.