Chapter 112: Chapter 112: Leashed Possession
"Fuccckkkk!"
The word tore from his throat like steel scraping stone, raw and jagged, splitting the quiet of the night. It echoed against the hollow trees, their branches swaying as though shivering from the weight of his curse.
The forest seemed to lean in to listen, shadows folding closer around the mud-slick ground where he knelt, face pressed against earth that stank of rot and rain.
Beside him, the rabbit leapt—innocent, ignorant—nuzzling his side, biting at his sleeve, its whiskers tickling his arm as though mocking his despair. Its warmth was absurdly alive against the cold bite of the night.
He shooed it with a grunt, one gauntleted hand flashing, sending the creature scampering. For a breath, its tiny heartbeat had seemed louder than his own.
He sighed. The weight in his chest pressed heavier than the plates of his armor. With effort, he rose, mud dripping from the angles of his face, thick rivulets running down his neck, seeping beneath his collar.
He wiped at it, smearing filth across pale skin. The air clung damp and heavy, saturated with the stench of wet leaves, the acrid ghost of blood long spilled, the metallic tang of iron that seemed to live in his mouth.
His eyes rose.
The dungeon loomed above him like a godless cathedral. Its black mouth was carved into the mountainside, jagged edges sharp enough to cut moonlight.
Shadows writhed across its stone as though it breathed, a living maw that dreamed of swallowing him whole.
Its aura pressed downward, crushing, suffocating—like the memory of a nightmare he could not wake from.
"...why do I always forget... woman, will always will be fucking woman." His voice cracked, half curse, half confession.
The memory of her lingered like smoke. Arina—always moving beyond his reach, always drawing others into her orbit. And now Amber.
He walked toward the middle where she had stood before him, boots grinding mud and stone, armor clanking with each step.
Once, the armor had gleamed—the Empire’s pride, silver polished to mirror the sun. Now, it bore stains of mud, torn leaves clinging to the grooves. It smelled faintly of sweat, rust, and battles fought too close together.
He stopped where she had been. He could almost feel the echo of her presence, the ghost of her breath, the defiant set of her jaw. The wind carried with it a trace of lavender—imagined or real, he could not tell.
’This dungeon,’ he thought, eyes narrowing. ’If Arina is taking Amber with her—a healer—then it must belong to the long-ear cunts.’
Elves.
The thought curdled in his stomach. Their kind always wrapped cruelty in elegance, tyranny in tradition. If Arina had gone there with Amber, then there was no mistaking it.
He waited. The dungeon’s gates remained still, lips pressed shut in mockery. He waited longer, breath misting in the cold air. Still, silence.
"Why the fuck?" His voice cracked against the stone.
’...I think I have enough mana. It should let me enter...’
A sound split the silence.
[Lilith is laughing...]
The voice was inside him—silken, mocking, drenched with the taste of honey and venom.
’...huh, why is she laughing now? Gonna give me another fucking mission?’ His jaw tightened. His temples throbbed.
[Lilith voices: The realm of the long ear don’t allow demons or half-demon to enter.]
"..."
The silence that followed was heavier than before. It sank into his bones, into the mud beneath him, into the sky itself.
What in the actual fuck?
His breath hitched. A part of him wanted to scream again, louder, enough to shatter the trees. He hadn’t known. No one had told him. Was it buried somewhere beyond one hundred and fifty Chapters, hidden in fine print by some cruel author?
He didn’t know. He didn’t care. All he knew was that everything just got complicated, and time was slipping through his fingers like sand.
Think, Aiden, think.
His mind spun. Dungeons were alive, weren’t they? He had felt it before—the way they judged, the way they demanded. If they barred one thing, they must crave another. If they despised demons, then they would hunger for the opposite.
He rubbed his forehead, tugging at strands of white hair until his scalp ached. Flashes of the novels he had read churned behind his eyes—words, passages, rules half-remembered.
Angels. Healing. Light. Was that why Arina had taken Amber? Not only for the Saintess’s spell in the elven dungeon, but because her presence itself unlocked the gate?
It fit. It stung.
"So I need a healer, then I can gain access? But the church school is far away..." His voice was low, strangled.
[Lilith thinks you are dumb.]
"...fucking whore. Who is she calling dumb?" His brows knotted, anger flaring sharp enough to make his vision pulse red.
[Lilith voices: Her gift is much more useful than he thinks.]
"Then fucking tell me! You fucking whore!" His roar shook his chest, raw and ragged.
[Lilith licked her lips as she wishes to be silent.]
Her silence pressed heavier than any dungeon door. He wanted to rip her voice from his mind, to carve her out with steel.
His hands trembled at his sides. He was one breath away from breaking, from collapsing into the mud again and letting the world rot without him.
Maybe he should have let the saintess cleanse him—let her strip this infernal system from his veins, free him from the leash of Lilith’s voice.
But memory caught him.
’Status.’
The familiar shimmer of the system unfolded before his eyes, runes dancing across his vision.
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System
Aiden
Bloodline: High Incubus (Unknown Tier)
Mana: Low
Grade: B+ Class
Personality: angry / Uncontrollably Horny
Skills:
- Possession Kiss (high Tier)
- Emotion Amplification (high tier)
- Aura of Allure (high tier)
- Dreamweaving (Locked)
- Temptation Echo (Locked)
Beauty: very dangerous (mythic High Tier)
Talent: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Ember: 60% Filled
Charmed Possession: Very High number detected...
Temporary Possession: High number detected....
Full Possession (seeded): Akidna, Flora, Catherine, Luna, Sabrina, Tanya.
Leashed Possession: Amber.
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Aiden always wondered what really happened when one became a leased possession. It had been a phrase whispered by the system before, thrown like scraps from Lilith’s tongue, but never explained.
He had ignored it in the past, chalked it up to another cruel joke of hers—until now.
Knowing Lilith didn’t waste his time for no reason, he clicked the option.
The air around him seemed to still. A whisper of static crawled across his vision, prickling against his skin. Then the runes unfurled, words burning bright as molten iron:
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[Leashed Possession: Amber]
You are linked soul to soul with Amber Nickson. High authority of her body and soul lies in your hands.
-Making her pregnant.
-Vision entanglement.
-Soul connection.
-High manipulation.
-Soul exchange.
-Body exchange.
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His pupils shrank.
"...body exchange?"