Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users-Chapter 233: Liliana Makes the First Move

"You are not to interfere," she said.

The figure nodded.

"Just clean up the aftermath."

"Yes, my Queen."

And that was all.

She walked forward again, down the corridor, toward the vault on the western wing. Her robe still hung loosely, but her eyes no longer looked calm.

They looked focused.

Like fire behind glass.

A different kind of Lilith was beginning to wake.

Not the illusionist. Not the singer. Not the public icon.

But the original.

The one who once brought an entire continent to its knees.

And her daughters?

They were already moving.

No fanfare.

No declarations.

Just clean, cold steps toward retribution.

This was not revenge.

This was a correction.

A lesson, and by the time the cult realized they’d been found, it would already be too late.

There would be no warnings.

No mercy.

Only silence.

And then—

nothing.

Meanwhile, away from the Nocturne Mansion.

The military compound was located in the old northern range, buried beneath a layer of artificial cliffs and abandoned signal towers.

Once used as a remote outpost for heavy artillery testing, it had long since been decommissioned. Or so people believed.

But the cult had found it.

Repaired just enough of the systems to run their drills. Cleared out the lower levels. Reinforced the security fields.

Even added anti-detection nodes scavenged from black market ruins.

It didn’t matter.

Liliana walked straight through the front gate.

No stealth, no pretense.

Just her tall, commanding figure stepping out of a matte-black transport frame that dematerialized behind her without a sound.

She wore no armor.

Just her long crimson combat coat and high-heeled tactical boots. Her hair was tied into a sleek tail, still damp from the earlier training session.

Strapped to her back was a long, narrow black case, she didn’t touch it, she didn’t need to.

As she moved down the sloped entry tunnel, her heels struck the ground with sharp, exact pressure.

The walls had once been covered with electronic camouflage patterns, but now showed signs of wear and tear. A faint hum echoed through the corridor.

Fifty meters in, the first checkpoint came alive.

Two guards appeared behind partial cover—both masked, both holding mid-tier weapons, both keyed to energy-reactive triggers.

The first one shouted.

She didn’t hear him.

The second one lifted his rifle.

She didn’t stop.

The third—hidden behind a secondary blast shield—tried to trigger the alarm.

None of them got to finish.

Liliana’s aura dropped.

No sound came from her lips—no flashy light. No announcement. Just a pulse.

A pressure.

And then—

collapse, but it was not death, not yet.

The three guards fell to their knees. Weapons dropped. Limbs shaking. Mouths opened as they tried to scream, or breathe, or do anything at all.

But her presence didn’t allow for it.

Thirty meters. That was the range. Anything living caught inside was bound.

The corridor sensors glitched, the lights above flickered, then burst into flames, the backup generators kicked in, but the flicker in power only helped reveal the shimmering pulse radiating from her body.

It wasn’t visible exactly, but it felt like something thick and molten was pouring into the air, smothering thought, speech, resistance.

She didn’t slow.

She stepped over the first guard, her coat brushing the side of his helmet as he twitched on the ground, eyes wide in terror.

Inside the central facility, the cult was mid-preparation.

Chanting.

Sigil activation.

Ritual cleansing.

They were building toward a convergence point—some mid-tier summoning array focused on deep origin beasts. Sloppy. Crude. But effective in the right hands.

These weren’t the right hands.

She stepped into the room without knocking.

Two dozen cultists turned.

None spoke.

A few reached for weapons.

Liliana raised her head slightly. Just enough for them to see her eyes.

Crimson.

Lit from within.

The moment they locked eyes, all weapons jammed.

The trigger mechanisms failedart, cridges ejected, blades cracked, the array on the floor glitched, lines smearing as the energy weave twisted out of sync.

Not sabotage, it was just jer presence.

And with her aura had adjusted.

Every single piece of attack intent within her field had been denied permission to exist.

She walked forward.

No words.

One cultist tried to run.

He didn’t make it past the first row of tables. His body dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Another screamed.

The scream didn’t last.

One by one, they fell.

Not all died immediately.

Some staggered. Some convulsed.

But none of them could fight.

By the time she reached the center of the ritual floor, the room had already dimmed. The outer airlock had sealed itself, more out of protocol than anything else.

Red warning lights flickered overhead, but no alarm sounded.

Liliana stood in the middle of the room, her boots clicking once more as she came to a stop.

She looked around.

Checked each face.

Then tapped her earpiece once.

No words again, just a location confirmation sent to the main system.

She turned and walked to the control station at the side of the chamber. Her hands moved across the panel, rerouting the bunker’s power toward the geothermal core. She didn’t hesitate.

At 92% charge, she stepped back.

And waited.

The pressure in the room hadn’t lifted.

The cultists still writhed.

But she had already marked the final step.

One hand reached up, pulling a thin device from the collar of her coat. She flicked it once. The core beneath the chamber groaned.

And then the heat arrived.

Not from fireor any kind of beams.

Just pure, suffocating, reality-splitting heat from below.

The building didn’t collapse.

It melted.

The outer shell held, for a moment.

Just long enough for Liliana to step back through the tunnel and past the entry slope.

The figures at the gate were still unconscious.

She didn’t look at them.

The underground bunker behind her turned into liquid glass.

And all that remained was silence.

She reached the edge of the mountain.

The transport frame returned, its black hexagonal pattern reforming mid-air.

She stepped inside.

One final scan confirmed no surviving pulses.

The mission was complete with an uncomfortable ease that anyone else who saw this might think of this as a dream.

Back in the main mansion, her signal returned green.

Lilith who saw this didn’t smile, but she did nod.

One target down.

Two more sisters are still moving.

And the cult had just learned—

The Nocturne family didn’t forgive.

They erased.

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