Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World!-Chapter 25: Welcome To My Home! [Bonus]

[1/10 Of Castle Mass Release! Shout out to Dragonman009128 for the gift!]

The moment Creed stepped off the carrier, the cold efficiency of Infernal Ice Bastion became undeniable.

The air was crisp and clean, like every molecule had been scrubbed of any imperfection.

But the most striking thing wasn't the air—it was the DMA officials.

They moved like shadows draped in black and blue uniforms, faces set with an emotionless focus that could cut glass.

Every movement was sharp, disciplined, and precise, like they were walking weapons barely sheathed by protocol.

Each officer carried a sleek, high-tech rifle strapped across their chest, but it was clear they didn't need weapons to command respect.

Their presence alone was enough to silence even the most panicked citizen.

'This is what real power looks like,' Creed thought grimly.

The DMA—Dimension Management Authority—was the iron fist of every bastion, and here in a Tier 3 stronghold, their authority was absolute.

Panicked refugees from Moonlake's collapse were quickly gathered into organized lines, stripped of chaos, and forced into order by the sheer will of these officials.

It was ruthless, but it worked. People who had just been on the brink of hysteria now shuffled quietly, too afraid to even breathe wrong.

Creed followed close behind Layla and the middle-aged woman, trying to make himself as small and invisible as possible.

His nerves buzzed like live wires. There was no way someone like him, a Tier 1 citizen, should've even been allowed to set foot in a Tier 3 bastion.

That privilege was reserved for people with influence, wealth, or power. Creed had none of those things.

'If they catch me, will I be sent back out there?' he thought, a bead of cold sweat rolling down his temple.

Soon, they reached a checkpoint where a towering DMA official scanned each individual's identification chip.

The cold, mechanical voice of the scanner filled the air:

[Identity verification required. Present identification.]

Layla and the woman stepped forward confidently. Creed, on the other hand, was already preparing himself for rejection.

But to his shock, the woman simply flashed a small badge—an elegant silver rectangle embedded with intricate blue circuitry—and the guard's demeanor shifted instantly.

Without a word, the official stepped aside and let them through. No questions. No checks. Nothing.

Creed's jaw almost hit the polished floor.

What the hell was that?

Even people with moderate status had to go through biometric verification, but she'd bypassed it like a VIP skipping the line at an exclusive club.

Only one explanation made sense: this woman's authority level was far beyond what Creed had guessed.

Not just above average. She had real power here.

'Who the hell is she?'

It wasn't until they passed through the last checkpoint that Creed finally let himself breathe.

His muscles loosened just a little, and his brain caught up with the fact that, for the first time since Moonlake's fall, he was safe.

Then, he looked around—and what he saw nearly stopped his heart.

The world outside the carrier port was... majestic.

The bastion's architecture was a masterpiece of modern engineering mixed with an elegance Creed had never seen before.

The streets were wide and flawless, paved with some kind of metallic glass that shimmered under the artificial sunlight from the massive dome overhead.

The dominant colors were a bold blend of white and red, which gave the entire bastion a feeling of regal authority without being too flashy.

Sleek shuttles—floating vehicles that hovered effortlessly above the ground—whirred past silently, gliding with such precision and smoothness that it felt like watching a choreographed dance.

These weren't the rusting, patched-up scrapheaps that passed for transportation in Moonlake.

No, these machines were pristine, with designs so aerodynamic they practically oozed wealth.

Even the people walking the streets were on another level entirely. Every single person Creed saw looked like they belonged in a high-end fashion magazine.

Perfectly tailored clothes, polished shoes, accessories that probably cost more than Creed's entire life savings.

There wasn't a single person who didn't look like they had power, influence, or at the very least, a wallet so fat it needed its own security detail.

This...

Creed's throat went dry as he stared at the bustling streets. 'This is a different world altogether.'

Compared to Section 7 of Moonlake, where grime-coated walls and the constant stench of desperation were everyday occurrences, this place was like stepping into heaven after clawing his way out of hell.

But reality hit him hard and fast.

Housing.

Creed's excitement soured like spoiled milk. He was broke. Dirt poor. The only reason he was even here was pure luck—or rather, Layla's kindness.

He couldn't stay with her forever, especially not in a place like this. The cost of living in a Tier 3 Bastion was insane.

Just breathing the air probably racked up a fee somewhere in the system!

'I need a place to stay,' Creed thought bitterly, and fast.

As if the universe decided to mock him, his stomach growled loudly. He winced, his hunger pangs dragging him back to reality.

How was he supposed to think about rent when he couldn't even afford a proper meal?

He was about to break the awkward silence and ask Layla about temporary shelters when a sleek blue shuttle pulled up right in front of them with a soft, futuristic hum.

The vehicle was stunning. It was polished like a gemstone, with glowing lines of silver etched along its frame.

On the side of the shuttle, a crest shimmered brightly under the bright light: two silver spears crossed over a blue wave.

'Who the hell owns something that expensive?' Creed wondered, half-impressed, half-jealous.

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The door slid open with a soft hiss, and out stepped a young man who looked like he'd walked straight out of a romance novel cover.

He was tall, athletic, with sharp features and dark hair that was just messy enough to look intentional.

His tailored uniform hugged his frame perfectly, and every movement radiated effortless confidence.

The stranger's piercing eyes locked onto Layla immediately, and a warm smile spread across his face.

"Welcome back, young miss," the man said smoothly, his voice rich and deep like melted chocolate.

Creed blinked in disbelief.

Young miss?

Layla, of course, responded with a playful wink like this was totally normal.

"I'm back, Damien. Miss me already?"

The man—Damien, apparently—chuckled lightly. "Always. Your mother's been worried sick."

His gaze then drifted over to Creed, eyes narrowing with mild curiosity. "And... who's this?"

Layla didn't miss a beat. She reached over, casually looping her arm around Creed's like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"This? Oh, this is my big brother. He helped me out when I was in trouble outside the bastion."

Creed's brain practically short-circuited.

Big brother?! She was still sticking to the big brother trope?

Before Creed could even process what was happening, Layla leaned in and whispered under her breath. "Just go with it."

...Well, when in doubt, play along!

For survival!

Creed forced a smile and nodded stiffly. "Yeah, I... just making sure she stays out of trouble."

Damien seemed to 'relax', though there was still a hint of suspicion in his gaze. "I see. Well, any friend of Layla's is welcome here."

As Damien turned to help Layla and the middle-aged woman into the shuttle, Creed's heart pounded like a war drum in his chest.

He had no idea what was going on and was simply going with the flow. But one thing was certain: he was safe. For now.

The moment he stepped into the sleek, polished shuttle, he could feel how soft the seats were.

It was like sitting on a cloud stuffed with luxury itself.

Every inch of the vehicle screamed wealth, from the glowing blue stripes along the floor to the faint hum of the engine that felt more like a gentle whisper than a growl.

He didn't even have time to fully appreciate the absurd comfort of it all because Layla, with a bright grin that practically screamed I'm too happy for someone who just survived a disaster, grabbed his hand and dragged him inside like they were best friends on a wild adventure.

Creed blinked in stunned silence as she plopped down beside him, still gripping his hand like it was a lifeline.

He wasn't sure if she was holding onto him because of genuine affection, lingering fear from Moonlake's destruction, or—his most ridiculous thought yet—maybe she already had a crush on him?

'No way. There's no way it's that simple,' Creed thought, his face twitching with the effort not to laugh at his own stupidity.

'I might be ridiculously flawless and handsome, but I just saved her from a wolf once. This isn't some cheap romance drama.'

Still, she didn't let go. And every time he tried to casually pull his hand away, she only squeezed tighter.

'Okay, maybe she does have a tiny crush... Or she's just weird. Yeah, let's go with weird.'

Meanwhile, the young man who'd greeted Layla—the walking poster boy for rich, handsome heirs—kept stealing glances at Creed like he was trying to figure out if Creed had crawled out of the sewers or was just horribly underdressed for the occasion.

His eyes narrowed with that classic who-is-this-guy-and-why-is-he-touching-Layla look.

Before things could get awkward enough for Creed to fart under pressure, the middle-aged woman reached out and patted the guy on the back, her voice gentle but firm.

"I'll handle it, Damien. You don't need to worry."

Damien blinked, clearly caught off guard. "But, Mother—"

She waved him off like it was nothing. "It's fine. Just drive."

That was apparently all the command he needed because the shuttle suddenly lurched forward with such force that Creed nearly headbutted the back of the seat in front of him.

'Holy crap! How fast is this thing going?!'

The speed was unreal. Buildings, streets, and lights blurred past so quickly that Creed couldn't even make out shapes—just streaks of color blending together like some futuristic fever dream.

It was both thrilling and incredibly disappointing because, despite how cool it must have looked outside, his eyes couldn't process a single thing!

'What's the point of having windows if you're just gonna break the sound barrier every five seconds?!'

Layla, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by the ridiculous speed.

She leaned back, perfectly relaxed, her fingers still laced tightly with his like they'd been childhood friends forever.

Creed dared another glance at their joined hands. 'Is this normal for her? Should I say something?'

It wasn't that he was afraid if her touch, quite the opposite actually. He was a man of culture and loved contact with girls.

It was that he didn't want to give the wrong impression to her definitely-very-powerful family!

He considered making a joke, maybe something dumb like, "Hey, if you hold on any tighter, I'll start charging rent."

But then he thought about how badly that could backfire and decided that silence was the better option.

Barely ten minutes later, the shuttle began to slow down, the high-pitched hum of the engine dropping to a gentle purr as they finally came to a smooth halt.

Creed's ears popped slightly from the pressure change, but at least he didn't throw up from motion sickness—small victories.

The doors slid open with a soft hiss, and before Creed could even think about standing, Layla was already tugging him out like an excited kid showing off her favorite toy.

And then Creed saw it.

The estate standing before him wasn't just majestic—it was the kind of place that made him wonder if he'd accidentally died and gone to some rich-person version of heaven.

The entire mansion was finished in an immaculate white marble that gleamed under the intense lights of the bastion.

Wide pathways lined with perfectly trimmed hedges led up to a massive entrance that looked like it belonged on a royal palace rather than someone's personal home.

But what truly took his breath away were the water features scattered across the property.

There were smooth, flowing streams that curved around the edges of the estate, shimmering under soft light like liquid silver.

Little bridges arched over the streams, leading to tranquil garden patches and pavilions that looked like they were meant for deep philosophical conversations... or at least really expensive tea parties.

The sheer space of the property was staggering.

In a world where even people in Tier 3 Bastions paid absurd amounts for a tiny apartment, Layla's family had enough land to host a small army!

The air here smelled different, too—fresh, clean, and laced with the faintest scent of blooming flowers.

Creed stood there, mouth half-open, completely forgetting that Layla still had his hand.

'This... This is insane. This is easily the most beautiful place I've ever seen... even from my last life!'

Every fiber of his being was screaming that he didn't belong here. This wasn't just a different tier of society, it was an entirely different universe.

People like him weren't supposed to be within spitting distance of places like this, let alone being dragged through the front door like some honored guest.

Layla, of course, didn't seem to notice his internal crisis. She turned to him with that bright, effortless smile and spread her arms wide like she was showing off a masterpiece she'd made herself.

"Welcome to my home, big brother!"

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May guesses whether Layla has a gorgeous older sister? ;)

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Power stone Goal!

20 PS - 1 Bonus Chapter

50 PS - 2 Bonus Chapter

100 PS (Quite an achievement as of now) - 3 Bonus Chapters.

Castle - 10 Bonus Chapters!