Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users - Chapter 388

Chapter 388: He’s Forgotten That Arrogance Only Works When No One Is Watching

The succubus leaned back in her seat, her body arching like a cat in a stretch, arms lifting high over her head until her chest pressed tight against her robe.

She yawned like she had all the time, a lazy smile curling over her lips. “Maybe,” she said in that sly, singsong voice, “or maybe they’ll burn out quick and bright, like a fire left untended.

Either way, I’ll enjoy the view.”

The elf didn’t rise to the bait. She moved one of her glowing pieces instead, slow and steady, placing it exactly where it needed to be.

The board pulsed faintly as the succubus’s boldest piece screamed, thrashed once, and then scattered into glittering motes that drifted back into the wood.

Her green eyes lifted, calm and certain, locking with her companion’s. “Not long now,” she murmured. “He’s already taken the bait.”

The succubus pouted at the loss, but her smirk slipped right back into place almost instantly, her tail swaying behind her in a lazy rhythm.

“All the better,” she purred, violet eyes gleaming. “Watching them stumble, watching them think they’re moving by choice, only to realize they’ve been pieces all along—that’s the sweetest part.”

After that, the game slowed. The pieces still shifted faintly on the glowing board, restless little things waiting for their masters’ hands, but neither woman reached for them.

Their attention had drifted elsewhere, caught more by the weight in the air than the pattern on the board.

The succubus twirled a strand of her long purple hair around her finger, her sly smile widening as she said, almost offhand, “You know, my daughters stopped asking long ago why I don’t interfere directly. If I wanted to, half the void would already be smoldering.

They think it’s a restraint. I call it patience… and amusement.”

The elf tilted her head just slightly, her straight green hair sliding like silk over her shoulder. “Patience?” she said, her voice light as water flowing over stone.

“That isn’t a word most would set beside your name.” Her lips curved faintly as she added, “But I understand. My people don’t question me openly either. They honor me, bow, chant my name, and yet forget.

They forget what I was before they were born, in a time when the void was not as peaceful as now. ”

She brushed her fingers lightly against the wood as if to prove her point. ” I still remember how it felt to live in that era, but this here still calls me young.”

The succubus chuckled low in her throat, her tail curling like a cat’s against the table. “Young, hm? If you’re young, then what are the rest of them? Embryos? Dust?”

The elf’s mouth twitched, her calm never breaking. “Fleeting,” she answered simply. “That’s what they are. Fleeting. But even fleeting things leave marks.”

Their words hung in the air, steady and heavy. Neither spoke with boast or arrogance, but every syllable carried the truth of what they were—anchors of their kind, old forces whose names weren’t whispered often because mortals didn’t live long enough to remember them properly.

Their being here wasn’t a chance, and it wasn’t a play.

The succubus leaned forward suddenly, her finger tapping against the board, a faint rhythm echoing her sly amusement. “The letter,” she said, her violet eyes catching faint sparks of light.

“It wasn’t written for him at all. It was written for us to see what he’d do when he touched it.”

The elf’s calm eyes narrowed faintly as she gave a soft hum, her gaze sliding briefly over the board before rising again.

“And he did exactly what we knew he would,” she said evenly. “Like a beast sniffing at its own reflection. The fact that he opened it tells us everything we needed.”

“And tells him nothing,” the succubus added quickly, her lips curling sharper. “I almost pity him. Almost. He still thinks his throne casts the same shadow it did before his sleep.

He doesn’t understand that the void has shifted while his eyes were closed.”

Her laugh came smooth and mocking, but it trailed into a softer sigh. “Do you think he even remembered the Old Compacts when that seal broke?

Or did he convince himself it was just some mortal child toying with scraps of divinity?”

The elf’s eyes sharpened, her patience steady but firm. “He remembered. You could feel it when the silence in him turned colder.

That letter carried a divine breath from one of the Old Names. Ancient debts. Ancient promises. Gods who rarely move, but when they do, whole civilizations bow.”

“Mm,” the succubus hummed, resting her chin on her palm, tail flicking idly. “So not ours. Not directly.

But still ours to watch. Which makes it better. We get to sit back and see him unravel, wondering which ghost finally reached for him.”

Her smile curled sharper, her voice dropping into something like a whisper meant only for the elf across the board. “And he is unraveling already. It hasn’t even begun.”

The elf slid one of her pieces across the board, not with intent but with distraction, her voice calm but firm.

“He believes he’s unseen. He believes his cults grow in silence. But the roots of this tree stretch farther than his arrogance can dream.

Every step he has taken since waking, every whisper he’s tried to plant, every mortal he’s bent—we’ve watched.”

The succubus laughed softly, raising her hands in mock surrender. “If I pulled stunts like that, you’d scold me for centuries.

But when he does it, the world trembles, the clerics wring their hands, the mortals whisper of storms.” She smirked, wicked amusement flashing.

“He’s forgotten that arrogance only works when no one is watching.”

The elf’s gaze wandered upward, toward the endless branches above, where faint lights glimmered like stars caught in a net of wood.

Her eyes softened slightly, though her words stayed firm. “He’s been asleep too long. The balance shifted while he dreamed. He still believes the world waits where he left it.”

“And it doesn’t,” the succubus replied quickly, her smirk sharp again. “Which is what makes all of this so delightful.”

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