Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone-Chapter 211: The House He Calls His

Aiden drew his hands away from the saintess with a slow, deliberate motion—almost gentle, but not quite. The moment his palms left her skin, the air in the room shifted. It felt thinner, stretched, as if her unconscious breathing had been holding the atmosphere together.

The faint scent of his blood still clung to her lips, faintly metallic and warm, mixing with the soft perfume she naturally carried. A strange contrast—purity and corruption intertwining in a sleeping girl’s breath.

He rose to his feet, boots whispering against the carpet, the weight of the night gathering behind his shoulders like a cloak.

Sabrina and Catherine stood behind him, their silhouettes framed by the lamplight. Their shadows stretched long, almost touching his.

"You two," he exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "really gave me a handful of work."

He didn’t sound angry—he almost never did—but there was a dry ache underneath his tone, the kind born from chaos layered on chaos.

Aiden wasn’t tired physically. Incubi rarely were. But mentally... the threads he was weaving were starting to tangle, and every new revelation about the church added another knot he had to untie before it tightened around someone’s neck.

Preferably not his.

Preferably not hers.

The saintess slept quietly on the bed now, her chest rising and falling beneath the blankets. If anyone looked at her now, they would never imagine she’d just learned half her life was a manufactured lie. Or that assassins had come for her before she could even decide how to breathe with that truth.

Aiden took one last look at her peaceful face—a face the church had paraded, exalted, worshipped, and ultimately marked for disposal. A tragic story...A tragic story he created.

She will not even know her own self slowly... because I.... Remade it. Remade her.

A short, sharp breath escaped him.

And like her, he would soon remake the church as well. That was what he was going to unmake.

Sabrina stepped closer, arms crossed. "So... it was your incubus ability?"

Aiden nodded once. "Yes."

Her eyes widened, curiosity sparking.

He tilted his head, a teasing glint flickering. "Why? Want me to appear in one of your dreams? I can make it memorable."

Sabrina’s ears flushed immediately, and she made a small choking noise. "N-No. I was only asking—!"

Catherine scoffed from behind them, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Honestly, Aiden. Must you tease every woman who breathes near you?"

He smirked. "Not every woman. Only the useful ones....like you."

Sabrina beamed despite herself. Catherine grimaced despite herself.

Before either could retort, a crimson smear cut across the doorway.

Flora stepped in, her hands and blades dripping blood onto the floorboards—thick, dark, and warm enough that Aiden could still smell iron in the air. She moved like a large cat: quiet, coiled, dangerous. Her breathing was calm. Too calm.

"All assassins have been dealt with," she reported, wiping her cheek with the back of her wrist. A streak of red smeared across her face like war paint. "Is there... another group? Something stronger?"

Her eyes glittered at the possibility.

Catherine placed a proud hand on her daughter’s shoulder. "You’ve done well, Flora. Effortless, really. A true daughter of the Golden Lion and the Dragon."

Flora’s grin turned razor-sharp.

Aiden answered her question with a small nod. "More will come. And they’ll probably be stronger."

Flora brightened like a child told she’d get a second dessert.

But Aiden wasn’t smiling for the same reason.

He knew why more were coming.

It wasn’t because of the saintess oh no no no—even if they told themselves that.

It was because of him.

Or rather, because of Lucifer.

His disguise. His carefully crafted deception. His prophet persona that had now taken on a life of its own, beyond his control, spreading whispers through the empire like wildfire.

He could almost hear the church sharpening its fangs.

Before he could sink too deep into that thought, Sabrina stepped forward again, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"You know... my family. The mage families. We have contacts." She glanced at Catherine, then at Flora, then back at Aiden. "High-rank mages. Efficient, discreet. They owe us favors. If we call for them, they can help track assassins before they get close."

Her voice held something unusual—an edge of determination, almost competitive. Almost as if she wanted to prove she wasn’t just someone he teased.

Aiden turned toward her fully, placing a hand gently but deliberately on her cheek. His fingers threaded through her hair for a moment, then rested against her temple, almost like a silent pat of approval.

"Finally," he murmured with a tired smile, "you’re being useful."

Sabrina’s eyes lit up like lanterns. Warmth rushed up her neck, coloring her cheeks. She didn’t say it, but he felt it in the way she leaned almost imperceptibly into his touch:

I can help him. I can do something that matters.finally.

She lifted her chin. "I’ll contact them immediately. They can be in Leonidus by tomorrow morning. Quietly."

"And they’ll sweep the city," she continued, nodding with growing confidence, "find any hidden threats, flag suspicious magic setups. No assassin will get close. Not even a shadow."

Aiden’s smile deepened. "Good."

Then the temperature in the room shifted, as if someone had opened a window letting in cold wind.

Catherine stepped forward and yanked Aiden away from Sabrina by the collar of his shirt.

"Enough." Her voice was sharp. Jealous. "I believe you were supposed to tell us what you plan to do with the saintess."

Aiden brushed imaginary dust from his clothes. "I already told you."

But Catherine glared, so he continued.

"She’ll believe she’s a succubus... even if she isn’t. The truth about her bloodline doesn’t matter as much as the truth she accepts." He looked toward the sleeping girl. "i will manipulate her whole identity. simply giving her a new one—one that works for us...for me."

He paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"And slowly," he added, "she will work with you all as I take over the church from the inside."

Catherine raised a brow. "You’re ambitious....so ambitious that it all feels like a dream..."

Aiden tilted his head. "I’m realistic."

His gaze flickered back to the saintess. A soft curl of guilt nudged at him—unexpected and unwelcome. He pushed it away.

"She deserves better, she deserves me....not some flimsy corrupt church with some flimsy shitty god," he murmured before he realized he’d said it aloud.

Sabrina and Catherine exchanged glances.

Aiden cleared his throat, tone sharper. "Anyway. I know you’ve all worked hard preparing the guild for me."

Catherine’s eyes softened slightly at the shift in topic. Flora perked up.

Aiden continued, voice steady now, almost excited in the way a general is excited before a battle:

"I want Arina to launch the guild tomorrow."

Flora blinked. "Tomorrow? That soon?"

Aiden nodded once. "We can’t wait. The church is already reacting. So we must move first."

He walked to the window, pulling back the curtain. The night outside was deep and heavy, the sky bruised purple. Leonidus’ lamps flickered like scattered embers below.

"The saintess will vouch for the guild’s legitimacy," he said. "With her blessing, people will flock to it."

Catherine crossed her arms. "You’re creating competition for the Adventurer Guild? And the Slayer Guild? Both at once?"

"No."

Aiden’s smile sharpened.

"I’m creating something better....i don’t want to compete...i want to dominate."

He turned, eyes gleaming.

"A guild where healing is guaranteed, nuns joining the ranks of the guild. Where adventurers can explore sky dungeons without worrying if they’ll return. Where people aren’t used as disposable sword-fodder for nobles or churches to profit from."

Flora’s eyes widened, an unfamiliar spark of admiration appearing in them.

"And unlike the church," Aiden added quietly, "we will not demand devotion. We will earn it."

A heartbeat passed.

Then another.

Finally Sabrina spoke, her voice soft, almost reverent: "Aiden... this will reshape the entire empire...."

"That’s the point."

He stretched his arms behind his head casually, as if he hadn’t just declared war on the oldest religion known to the empire.

"And of course," he added, smirking, "with the funds of ...MY house—"

He emphasized my heavily, almost aggressively—pulling both catherine and Sabrina by the waist.

"This entire enterprise will be sustained."

Sabrina puffed her chest with pride. Catherine rolled her eyes but didn’t disagree. Flora grinned like she wanted to run outside and start recruiting members herself.

Aiden exhaled slowly, the tension of the night relaxing from his shoulders in controlled waves.

For a moment—just a moment—he allowed himself to feel something like control.

The assassins were dealt with.

The saintess was safe.

The guild was ready.

The mages were coming.

His plan was unfolding.

But as he stared out the window one last time, a faint breeze slipped through the crack, brushing past him like a whispered warning.

A reminder that peace, for him, would always be temporary.

And in the sleeping girl’s breathing, he heard the softest echo of the truth he couldn’t escape:

Oh Aiden..I will follow you..I will follow you to death....

And also will fate.