Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users
Chapter 204: The Cult Does Not Need To Exist

Chapter 204: The Cult Does Not Need To Exist

Meanwhile, the forest near the altar was quiet, not empty, but quiet in a way that felt unnatural, like it had taken a deep breath and was now holding it.

The bodies were still there.

Some were twisted, some slumped over rocks, others faced down in the dirt with weapons still clutched in their hands.

Robes marked with strange symbols were torn and scorched. Charred bits of bone lay half-buried where the summoning circles had once burned with life.

But now there was only stillness.

The Silent Crescent moved through the remains as if gliding, not walking. No footsteps.

No sound. Just shadows slipping between trees, checking one body at a time, confirming each target.

None of them spoke.

They didn’t need to.

They were thorough, precise, unrushed, and even though the threat was already gone, not a single one had lowered their guard.

Three assassins were positioned at the perimeter, their presence more like a warning than protection. If anything crossed the line, it wouldn’t make it another step.

Closer to the altar site, one of the elite agents crouched beside a pile of half-melted staves. She picked up a strip of parchment—blackened along the edges, but still pulsing faintly with residual energy.

She held it up for the commander.

The unmasked woman stepped forward.

Her face was calm. Beautiful in a sharp, regal way. No expression. No wasted motion. Her eyes scanned the half-burned scroll like she’d seen it before, or something close to it.

It wasn’t her first time cleaning up after a cult.

Her gloved fingers moved across the runes, tracing a familiar pattern.

A link ritual.

Outer-boundary class.

She handed the scroll back.

Behind her, a few of the others had started marking the zone—not with chalk or flags, but with small crystalline devices that absorbed the leftover energy.

Cleanup was part of their work—no evidence left behind.

She took out a slim communicator from inside her coat. It didn’t look special. Just a small black piece of enchanted steel, smooth and rectangular, with a single rune glowing faintly at the center.

She tapped it once.

The signal bounced.

On the other side of the continent, across a hundred layers of secure channels, a connection opened.

It was evening at the Nocturne mansion.

The mood was peaceful. The sky outside was dimming into gold. A soft wind drifted in through the open balcony windows.

Lilith stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, a faint smile on her lips as she stirred something in a low ceramic pot.

The smell of herbs filled the space, calming, warm, almost too perfect.

At the Nocturne mansion, far from the testing zone, the evening had just begun.

The mood was light. Calm.

Lilith stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, stirring something in a ceramic pot. The scent of herbs filled the room—warm, rich, comforting.

In the background, the soft clinking of dishes echoed faintly as the staff set the table for dinner.

The Moonshade twins weren’t there. Neither was Ethan.

But their voices lingered in Lilith’s memory—laughing, teasing, chatting over silly things.

She hadn’t heard them like that since before the exam started.

And as she stirred, she kept looking at the clock.

Not because she was worried.

But because she always knew when to expect the call.

And this time, it was late.

The communicator buzzed once on the edge of the kitchen counter.

Lilith wiped her hands with a small towel, eyes already shifting. Not annoyed and not surprised.

Just focused.

She picked up the device and pressed her thumb to the side.

No greetings.

No small talk.

The voice on the other end was quiet, smooth, and professional.

"The cult’s summoning attempt was genuine. The altar was connected to an Outer boundary."

Lilith’s smile faded, but only slightly. Her body didn’t shift. Her tone stayed level.

"Go on."

"We believe they were trying to reach a sealed fragment. Possibly divine. The scrolls were reinforced, and the ritual staff showed traces of creation-class enchantment."

Lilith didn’t speak.

The assassin continued.

"They failed. The link destabilized. We eliminated the channelers before the breach completed.

But the mana wave triggered the beast surge. Riot-level displacement. Dozens of student casualties."

Lilith’s hand tightened slightly around the device.

No other movement.

"And the staff?" she asked.

"Still intact and in our hands, but it seems to be alive as it is always trying to break out from our grasp and fly towards where the young master is."

Lilith turned her gaze out the window, watching as the wind shifted a nearby curtain. Her voice dropped.

"Casualties?"

"None among ours. All targets confirmed. No survivors on the cult’s end."

Silence stretched.

In the background, the gentle hum of the stovetop blended with the soft clicking of utensils being placed.

Lilith stood still, one hand hovering over a clean kitchen knife, the other still resting on the countertop where her device now sat—its screen dark, the call ended.

She hadn’t raised her voice.

She hadn’t needed to.

A moment passed before she moved again. She lowered the knife onto the cutting board—no sound, no rush—just precision.

Then she wiped her hands on a linen cloth, folded it neatly, and stepped out into the hallway.

The mansion wasn’t quiet, but it wasn’t loud either. It was living. Breathing.

A few staff members were finishing preparations in the dining room. Further down the corridor, Isabella’s voice could be faintly heard on a secure line—her tone sharp, controlled.

"...I don’t care what they offered. Find out who delayed the scan rotation. Fix it. Quietly."

Liliana’s boots echoed softly from one of the side halls, the rhythm steady—she’d probably finished her drills already.

Seraphina stood by the second-floor balcony, one hand holding her datapad, the other resting on the railing. Her gaze didn’t shift from the estate perimeter.

Lilith didn’t call out to any of them. She didn’t need to.

They could feel it.

The slight change in the air. The shift in her mood.

Something had crossed a line.

Someone had made a move without permission.

Back in her study, Lilith opened a hidden drawer behind the bookcase. Inside, a small silver crest pulsed gently with inner light.

She tapped it once. Then again.

A soft ripple moved through the air, silent, undetectable to most. But not to the ones meant to hear it.

In the distance, cells woke.

Commands stirred.

Lilith spoke again. Quiet. Measured.

"The cult does not need to exist."

It wasn’t a threat.

It was a statement that decided the fate of the cult that wanted to harm her son.

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