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The Incubus System Chapter 1183. Tick Tack
🕑 Added 2025-04-25 19:45:21 +0000 UTCThe Incubus System Chapter 1183. Tick Tack
I drove Nightmare down with both hands, all my weight, fury, and focus behind it.
The blade went through.
Right at the top of his skull.
There was resistance—thick bone, scorched muscle, and warped demonic hide—but Nightmare was hungry, and I was done holding back.
The weapon sank deep with a sickening crack.
Straight into whatever passed for a brain in that monster.
[Critical Hit! Skull Integrity Compromised]
The sword sank deep—resistance, then a pop as it punctured whatever cursed mass passed for a brain in that monstrosity.
And then—“Smite Bolt!”
The holy energy shot down the blade, straight into his head, discharging a concentrated burst of light directly into his neural core. His body convulsed—every muscle locking, his limbs jerking violently.
Smoke hissed from his mouth.
But he didn’t fall.
He didn’t scream either.
He couldn’t.
His jaw just twitched. His tongue lolled out.
And his eyes dimmed.
But he didn’t fall.
He didn’t scream either.
He couldn’t.
His jaw just twitched. His tongue lolled out.
And his eyes dimmed.
Then—his body began to shake. Not from pain, not from effort. From instability.
The overload hit.
That unstable form of his—half-ascended, power-jammed, a demonic flesh machine too jacked-up to survive—finally hit its limit.
I could hear it… a low gurgle like a hell kettle boiling over. Then came the cracks. His body fissured, splits spiderwebbing down his torso, his limbs, his neck. Black light leaked from the wounds—like someone had stuffed the sun into a corpse and forgot to seal the lid.
And then—
-BOOM!
Zatan exploded.
A shockwave of dark energy and acidic black blood tore through the block. The street caved in beneath the blast radius, buildings trembled, and the twisted echoes of his corrupted soul rattled windows three blocks away.
Chunks of his ruined body rained down like meat confetti. His black blood sprayed across the battlefield—on walls, debris, and me.
And holy shit, it burned.
“Ghh—!” I hissed, stumbling back as the acidic ichor seared through my armor. Steam hissed off my skin.
[Alert: You are covered in Demonic Acid Blood – -5 HP per second for 10 seconds]
[Passive Resistance Reduced Damage by 45%]
[Effect: Burning]
[Duration: 10s]
I tore a strip of my coat off and wiped it from my face, coughing through the smoke. Around me, demons still alive from the blast staggered in confusion, backing off, realizing their warlord had just become demon jam smeared across half the city.
[Zatan Eliminated – +4,200,000 EXP Earned]
[Level Up! +1 Level]
[Level Up! +1 Level]
[Level Up! +1 Level]
[Level Up! +1 Level]
[You are now Level 203]
[+20 Stat Points Awarded]
[+12 Skill Points Earned]
[Bonus Unlock: ??? – New Ability Pending Analysis…]
The glow of power surged through me—but I wasn’t celebrating. I didn’t even care. Because the rift above us… was still open.
And it was huge.
Bigger than the one in Lightglen. Bigger than any I’d seen. A swirling vortex of otherworldly corruption tearing into the sky like reality had been sucker-punched. It pulsed, casting waves of pressure that pressed down on me like the world itself was screaming close it.
But I knew—closing this rift was going to take everything.
I stared up at it. My breathing was shallow. My Demonic Power gauge was already drained from the fight. Even with what I’d stolen from Zatan, I could feel the cost this spell was about to ask for.
And I knew what would happen.
“I’m going to pass out,” I muttered.
I raised my hand.
Black energy spiraled around my fingers, runes glowing along my forearm. I channeled everything I had into Dark Energy, focusing it into the rift.
But before I could release it—something cut through the sky.
Seven radiant swords of light whistled down like divine judgment and slammed into the ground around me, forming a prison of glowing steel.
I stopped the cast instantly.
My head snapped toward the source, eyes narrowing.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…”
Standing at the edge of the rooftop, arms crossed and that smug holier-than-thou expression painted on his damn face.
Nathan.
With new glowing armor. Hero complex. Absolute asshole.
“I don’t have time for this, Nathan,” I snapped. My voice was low, furious. “Get out of my way. I’m running out of time!”
But he just smirked, hands still glowing with light energy. “You might be out of time—but I’m not.”
The bastard launched another sword.
I caught it mid-air with Telekinesis, stopping it inches from my face. It hung there, vibrating with celestial force, as my magic fought to suppress his.
I glared at him, pushing the blade back. “I’m warning you. This isn’t the day.”
“Funny,” he said. “Because to me? This is the perfect day to kill a demon.”
He was already preparing the next strike—light condensed in his hand, forming another spectral spear. The bastard was serious. He didn’t care about the rift. Didn’t care that the world was literally ripping apart above him.
He just wanted me dead.
But then—chains.
The glowing chains shot out of nowhere, wrapping around Nathan’s arms and legs, pulling him back with force.
“What the—?!”
He stumbled, barely catching himself as the chains tightened.
And then I saw her.
Emma.
She stepped out from the alley, hand glowing. Her Mana Chain skill was active, swirling around her fingers like living rope.
“You—traitor!” Nathan’s voice cracked.
She didn’t flinch. Her voice was calm. Cold. “I’m not a traitor. I’m a realist.”
“You’re binding me for him?!” he roared, trying to wrestle the chains loose. “He’s a demon!”
“And he’s the only one who can close that rift!” she shouted. “So get your damn ego out of the way and stop playing hero!”
Nathan’s eyes widened as the chains held.
His expression twisted—confusion, disbelief, maybe even fear. Because Emma wasn’t supposed to be strong enough to restrain him. Not by level. Not by training.
But she was.
Her chains pulsed, tightening as he struggled.
I didn’t say anything.
I just turned back to the sky.
The rift was growing again—fragments of reality twisting as it fed on ambient magic. If I waited any longer, it would collapse into a permanent gateway.
“Shit,” I muttered, raising my hand again.
