Incubus Lord: I Summoned My Lustful Wives

As if to signal a change in the tides, thunder began to rumble as the skies began to fill with dark clouds... Lancelot stood on the wall watching the forest, a beautiful, ethereal blue picture that soothed his heart.

'I feel a sense of foreboding...'

Pitter-patter... Droplets of rain began to drip from the skies, tapping and rattling against his leather and chainmail armour before transforming into a downpour like a god was tossing dirty water upon them.

A bad omen as the water became half-frozen before hitting the ground, creating a lovely ting-tang sound. The rain continued to pound at him as if trying to push him off the wall with the ferocity of a storm, but he wouldn't let it—like holding onto a precious gem, he was clinging for dear life, refusing to move from his spot.

"Something is disturbing... something not meant to be in this world approaching." Nuriel's gentle voice, her divine body devoid of the rain and dirt as her wings fluttered, stopping her troops from being soaked, with golden eyes staring into the darkness on the horizon as if she saw something in the depths of the abyss.

"Master..." Marimo's lovely black fur was now soaked and cascading over her chest, like the rest of the frost hares who lacked defence against the rain, their feet tapping the muddy and wet ground as if displeased.

Lancelot's body felt like invisible hands were grabbing, pulling and yanking at his body... the rumble and crackling thunder finally striking with a divine bolt of lightning just inches from his face, as if a warning that it was HE who did not belong in this world.

"Darling?!" Tyr shouted the black dragon standing on the western wall, but her golden eyes fixated on Lancelot, who stumbled back

"You dare stand in the path of a god!"

A booming voice thundered and echoed from the storm, shaking the very foundation of the castle walls and sending a chill through Lancelot's body. The world became dark... life faded and all the people around him began to rot, transforming into disgusting corpses and putrid mutants.... his eyes widened as even his golden divine eyes failed to see anything but this scene...

"I judge thee to be a disgrace of the human race, allowing himself to fall into a mere monster!"

'The voice was a woman's? I do not understand why the world has become like this?!' Lancelot's mind raced an irritation setting in.

"I sentence thee to be punished!"

The voice roared once more as a blinding light flashed, and the entire world around him seemed swallowed into the void, Lancelot's body becoming weightless, falling into a deep and endless pit.

A feeling of frustration, anger and defiance raged inside his heart...

"These gods, how dare they? I fought and fought and fought as a HUMAN, my body broken, the ones I loved and cherished torn to pieces before my very eyes! A disgrace? Hah!"

"I SPIT ON YOUR DISCRIMINATION!"

Greeted by silence his inner voice roared from his lips, as if his thoughts became words and words became thoughts.

"Where were you all when the white city fell into oblivion!? The empress and emperor sacrificing themselves only to be stabbed in their backs and forced to watch their empire torn apart by the humans you so adorn with great praise!"

"Answer me, Wretch!"

"You. Dare to profane against thy creators?" a deep booming voice replied to his challenge.

"Creators? Creators? What a joke... the one who created us and brought us into this world was our fathers and mothers, and you, a so-called GOD, did nothing but watch us with a bemused enjoyment, entertained by our suffering and plight!"

"And now you judge me for what? Loving a dragon? A demon? Accepting the fae into my arms? HAH! I have done nothing wrong!"

"My actions are mine and mine alone! If you seek to punish me, then so be it! I will spit on your judgement! But pray I don't survive!"

"Very well." the booming voice replied.

"Then, I sentence thee to eternal damnation, Lancelot du Lac. You are to be removed from the human gene pool, treated as a monster from Avalon!"

"I sentence you, 'GOD' to death! Await me, never forget my face, don't loosen your guard, for if I live, breathe. I am coming, and I will slay you. All of you who abandoned us in our moment of need."

The moment Lancelot's words were shouted into the darkness, his body still falling, his lips curved into a monstrous smile, twisted and feral like a beast that lost its chains, ready to bite back at his abusive master.

He felt something striking his cheek, a familiar warmth... often the whispers of nostalgic voices calling his name.

"Lancelot!"

"Darling!"

"Master!!" A loud slap sounded as Marimo's soft hand slapped the face of Lancelot after he began to stand in a daze looking at the brilliant lightning for several seconds... dull eyes and his heart no longer beating.

"M-Marimo? You... are okay?"

As if a dream... he looked at her and the rest of the people, and they were not rotting—not a single corpse was in sight, no putrid smell of a battlefield.

"O-Of course! Master, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes...." he stumbled a little as if the wind was knocked out of him, taking a moment to regain his composure, his lips trembling slightly.

'What happened to me?'

'I have memories of speaking to a so-called god, but did such a conversation happen?'

***

Meanwhile, in the Empire of Britannia...

A beautiful girl was praying to an altar, the image of worship of a beautiful woman with twelve wings... the goddess of battle Xil'nea. Her arms bulged with modest but tight muscles while her pretty ginger hair was tied in a bun with two long bangs covering her cheeks and forehead.

It was the cute barmaid Miri from the same world as Lancelot... someone he had forgotten as a price for being reborn, while her price was never to forget him for a single moment.

Behind her, a woman with a cold face suddenly looked to the skies, her back with eight wings and golden eyes, spreading her arms as a divine, golden light bathed Lucifer's body.

"Lucifer... you promised he wouldn't be in danger in this life. That we wouldn't become enemies." Miri spoke with a low growl, eyes narrow ocean-blue eyes now like a story typhoon, her face dark and angry.

The divine being with her unfurled wings peered at her Lord with the most empty and emotionless gaze, a being created to serve her creator. That is what the archangels were. "I have received my orders."

The ground and church began to tremble, the intense ether emanating from Miri swirling like a true storm... enough to blow the entire building sky high, a power that seemed more fitting for a wizard of double her age. "I order you to speak the contents of your mission."

Lucifer lowered her head... her creator was furious, something she would never want to bring upon herself. "My mission is to remove Lancelot du Lac from existence, Lady Miri. I am to slay his human form and condemn him to a life as a monster, never to return to his human form until the end of time."

Miri didn't answer instantly... her chest began to beat faster and faster... like a ball gaining momentum falling down endless stairs.

"Come to me, Durandal."

"My Lady!? You cannot defeat me even if you exert that holy sword!" Lucifer looked conflicted... still not grasping her spear or taking any action to attack or chastise her master.

Miri began to cackle like a maniac before looking up, her orange hair covering her dark blue eyes filled with madness and spite. "I do not seek to kill you, but to stain this holy sword in your divine blood, to taint it in every way possible and gift it to him so that he might slay every last divine being he may meet!"

"So he might carve a path to the heavens to fight you wretched beings! You can tell Xil'nea I refuse her mission!" Miri declared, her soul beginning to transform, her body changing as Lucifer watched... maybe the person didn't realise, but there was a smile on her lips as she allowed the sword of Miri to pierce her abdomen.

A whisper came from the archangel's lips, "Fufu... to think I would betray my creator in this life too... Oh, Miri... why is your crazed love for that man so intoxicating... let me see how far we can take this act of betrayal that marks us both... as the same sinners as he is."

The words reaching the crazed Miri caused her to feel shock, as each of the wings of Lucifer began to stain jet black... beautiful like a raven wings as she touched the blade of Durandal... the once blessed saint sword of pure white... began to turn black.... the corrupted blood of a fallen archangel corrupting the sword.

"I don't get it, Miri... A sword of 10,000 years history and you defile and corrupt it just for that one boy... Is this part of being human, as you said? Fufu, yet why do I feel so alive in this moment?"