Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users-Chapter 236: Lilith’s On The Move

Lilith stood in front of the console as the final signal shifted from blinking to solid green. The light dimmed slowly, the interface responding to completion, not failure.

She didn’t move at first. Not because she was hesitating. Not because there was more to calculate. That part of the operation was already done.

The signals were in place. The threats removed. The lines shut down. There was nothing left to consider.

She was simply quiet.

The kind of silence that came right before the snow settled for good. That small, exact moment before the last breath of wind dropped away and the frost on the branches decided to stay.

Still. Permanent. Final.

Then, without a word, she turned.

The hallway lights sensed her movement and adjusted just slightly—softening, warming, aligning—as if the house itself understood who was walking through it.

The maids that used to be invisible normally suddenly appeared as they were all stationed near the grand corridor didn’t speak.

They didn’t shift. They bowed low and held their posture until she passed.

Her coat was waiting by the entrance, draped neatly over the arm of a maid who hadn’t moved from her spot all morning.

The maid didn’t offer it. She simply held it, eyes down. Lilith took the coat as she walked past without slowing.

The fabric was white, stitched with a fine layer of black feathers lining the collar and sleeves. It clung lightly at the wrists, regal but quiet, designed to move with her rather than hold her down.

Outside, the garden paths were layered with a small amount of water, and the sky above had darkened into that soft orange that only came just before twilight.

It was the color of old memories, the kind that only surfaced when everything else went quiet.

She stepped onto the stone walkway. The roses along the garden edge didn’t wilt. The small amounts of water that splashed over because of some koi fishes still visble.

Even the wind paused as she walked, like the entire world knew it was not the time to move.

Her steps didn’t echo, but they were felt. The path curved gently toward the rear of the estate, where a private platform sat under a delicate awning of pale crystal vines.

The transport frame was already there, no sound, no signal. Just a soft pulse indicating that it was ready to depart the moment she stepped on.

Lilith didn’t pause.

She boarded the platform and let it rise smoothly into the air. No flare. No distortion. Just a whisper of motion, taking her away from the city and into the quiet parts of the world that had long been forgotten.

She wasn’t heading to another city. Not another country either. This wasn’t a mission that could be handled with networks or tools.

She was heading north—past the last mapped towers, beyond the snow-covered rails, and into a land where even signal lines chose not to reach.

The northern hills were not meant for visitors. The snow there didn’t melt, not even in the brightest days of summer.

The earth beneath it wasn’t just old—it was untouched. The kind of untouched that came not from reverence, but from fear.

And the buildings that still stood on that ground were never marked on maps. Not because they were protected, but because they were ignored.

Some places were like that.

Too old. Too heavy with memory. And some memories weren’t worth keeping.

But the cult had come here anyway. They hadn’t respected the silence. They had rebuilt something inside it.

An old cathedral. No name. No surviving origin. Once used in a ritual that nearly shattered three nations before it was sealed away and erased from record. Now unsealed again.

The transport arrived at twilight.

No energy flare. No magic presence.

Lilith simply stepped down onto the frozen ridge, one quiet footfall against frost-hardened stone.

The wind didn’t cry. The clouds didn’t part. The temperature didn’t shift. But everything paused.

Even the fading sunlight seemed to hold its position in the sky, as if the day itself was waiting to see what she would do.

She walked slowly, not cautious, but steady, like someone returning to a graveyard that held more than bones.

Like someone who didn’t need to announce themselves, because the land already remembered who they were. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

The cathedral stood in the middle of the ruins. Its front spires were broken, and its roofline half buried beneath snow. But the main hall stood firm, intact and silent.

There were guards.

At least ten near the front. More on the towers. A few inside.

Every one of them looked up when she stepped past the outer gate.

None raised a weapon.

Some blinked, confused.

One dropped his torch and didn’t pick it back up.

Then, without warning, without a single order being spoken, they began to kneel.

Not in fear.

In recognition.

They didn’t do it one by one.

They dropped together.

Some pressed their heads to the ground. Some couldn’t move fast enough. One young man, barely past twenty, started crying the moment his hands touched the snow.

She said nothing.

She didn’t slow.

The cathedral’s front doors, thick and ancient, began to swing inward just before she reached them. No one touched them. No mechanisms activated.

They opened because they remembered who she was.

Inside was warmer. But not because of fire or insulation. It was energy. Old. Starved. Desperate to be acknowledged again after so many decades of silence.

The cultists inside reacted the same way as the guards.

Most fell to their knees. Some reached for offerings—crystals, carved bones, scrolls soaked in blood. A few held out sacred charms. None of them mattered.

Lilith didn’t look at a single one.

She walked through them like they weren’t there.

At the far end of the hall stood the ritual dais.

On it, the high priest waited.

He didn’t kneel.

He didn’t bow.

He stood with his hands folded, thin and pale, his frame held together more by belief than strength.

"I knew you would come," he said softly, his voice dry, as if each word had to crawl through dust and regret just to be heard.

Lilith stopped halfway between the entrance and the dais. Her expression didn’t change.

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