Strongest Incubus Sy Chapter 97: Civilization

Chapter 97: Civilization

After the fight, the road seed quieter, as if even the forest had decided to respect the trail of bodies they had left behind. The wind died down, carrying only the tallic sll of blood already beginning to freeze on the snow.

Damon shoved his hands into the pockets of his makeshift cloak and whistled, striding after Ester. "Well, that was a warm welco. I wonder if all travelers receive such a welco."

"They were just bandits," Ester replied, without turning her head. Her voice was effortless, as if the confrontation had ant nothing to her. "Winter makes them hungry. They attack anything that seems to breathe."

"Mmm." Damon smiled, looking at his hands. He still rembered the strange sensation of ice coating his fists. Strange and... addictive.

Ti passed slowly, but little by little the horizon began to change. The forest thinned, the trees beca more spaced, and the distant sound of voices, wagon wheels, and hamrs began to echo on the wind.

Damon looked up excitedly. "Look at that... civilization!"

Ahead, finally, the road opened up toward a town surrounded by low stone walls, covered in drifting snow. The main gate was open, guarded by two soldiers who seed more concerned with keeping warm than keeping watch. Inside, the movent was intense: vendors shouting, children running, horses huffing smoke in the cold.

Ester stopped at the top of a small rise, surveying the town with calculating eyes.

"Hm. We’re much closer to the Duchy than I imagined."

Damon, who until then had only thought of mulled wine and a real bed, blinked in surprise. "The Duchy?"

He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. "Wait a minute... I’d forgotten. Why are we going there again?"

Ester glanced at him sideways, as if reminding him of sothing obvious. "To fulfill the mission we were given."

"Mission..." Damon repeated, clicking his tongue as if searching his mory. "Oh, right... the Countess."

"Countess Elizabeth," Ester corrected firmly. "We’re going to make the Duke understand that he must stop bothering her with his marriage proposals."

Damon raised his eyebrows. "Marriage, huh? A Duke wanting to marry the Countess... That sounds strange to ." He sighed theatrically, spreading his arms. "I an, what would make such a powerful man insist so much?"

Ester didn’t hesitate. "Because Elizabeth isn’t just anyone."

There was weight in her words.

Damon, intrigued, stopped joking and focused on her. "What do you an?"

Ester looked away at the city below, but her voice remained firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Elizabeth isn’t just a Countess. She was the Princess Consort of the kingdom."

Silence fell between them like a thunderbolt.

Damon blinked several tis, trying to process what he’d heard. "Wait, wait..." He held up his hands. "Are you telling

that Countess Elizabeth... the sa one who asked

to help her with so boring business... was a Princess?"

"Yes," Esther confird simply. "Princess Consort, to be exact."

Damon’s eyes widened, laughing in disbelief. "Good heavens... and here I thought she was just a rich, bored noblewoman."

His heart raced a little. Since his reincarnation, he’d never heard anything like this about Elizabeth. He’d always seen her as just that woman with impeccable posture, a calculating gaze, and a voice laden with authority. But now... now she had gained another dinsion. A forr Princess.

"That changes a lot..." he murmured, almost to himself.

Ester continued walking toward the city entrance, without turning around. "It changes. And it also explains why the Duke is so insistent. A union like that would give him not only prestige, but also political legitimacy."

Damon ainda estava tentando juntar as pe??as. — Ent??o, basicante, o cara quer se casar com ela pra poder dizer ao mundo que tem sangue real na cama dele?

— Grosso modo, sim. — Ester assentiu, fria. — Mas Elizabeth recusou. E agora ele está pressionando, insistindo de maneiras... inconvenientes.

Damon esfregou o queixo, pensativo. — Hm. Faz sentido. Mas... — Ele estreitou os olhos, curioso. — Por que ela n??o

contou isso? Quer dizer, se ela é t??o importante assim, por que nunca falou nada?

Ester o encarou de relance, seus olhos frios como sempre. — Porque n??o era da sua conta.

— Ai, que gelada... — Damon colocou a m??o no peito, fingindo estar ferido.

Damon colocou a m??o no peito fingindo estar ferido, mas Ester já havia virado de costas, descendo a encosta rumo ao port??o da cidade.

— Vamos. — disse ela, seca, como se n??o houvesse espa??o para piadas.

O loiro suspirou teatralnte e correu alguns passos para alcan??á-la, as botas rangendo na neve endurecida. — Tá bom, mada frieza. Mas pelo nos lá dentro deve ter vinho quente, né? — sorriu de canto.

Quando se aproximaram do port??o, os dois guardas olharam para eles apenas o suficiente para confirmar que n??o eram ndigos ou bandidos, depois voltaram a esfregar as m??os com luvas grossas perto de uma tocha fugante. N??o havia formalidade ali — a cidade parecia mais preocupada em sobreviver ao inverno do que em manter protocolos rígidos.

Do lado de dentro, o contraste era marcante. As ruas estreitas estavam cobertas de neve pisoteada e lama, mas o movinto era intenso. Carro??as carregadas de lenha e fardos de feno, corciantes gritando sobre tecidos importados, ca??adores vendendo presas congeladas e crian??as correndo entre os adultos, rindo como se o frio fosse apenas parte da brincadeira.

O cheiro de p??o recém-assado e carne salgada escapava das tavernas, misturado ao fedor de estábulos. Para Damon, parecia quase aconchegante depois de dias na floresta.

— Ahhh... — ele abriu os bra??os, respirando fundo. — O doce aroma de civiliza????o. Um cheiro de suor, fuma??a e prossas baratas!

Ester ergueu uma sobrancelha para ele, mas n??o contou. Seus olhos estavam atentos, percorrendo cada detalhe, como quem já calculava possíveis rotas de fuga, pontos de observa????o e riscos ocultos.

Damon notou, mas preferiu n??o quebrar o clima. Ele andava alguns passos atrás dela, assoviando e olhando ao redor. — Sabe... é engra??ado. Depois de quase congelar e lutar contra bandidos famintos, uma cidade assim parece um paraíso.

— Você só pensa em conforto. — Ester respondeu, sem desviar os olhos. — Se n??o aprender a sobreviver na dificuldade, n??o passará de peso morto.

Ele deu uma risadinha. — Peso morto que você n??o quis largar naquela nevasca, né? — provocou, olhando-a de lado.

Ester parou por um segundo, encarando-o como se fosse atravessá-lo com o olhar. Depois, simplesnte seguiu em frente, sem responder.

Damon ergueu as m??os, rindo sozinho. — Tá, entendi. Assunto delicado.