Incubus Lord: I Summoned My Lustful Wives

Nuriel kicked Caladbolg across the dirt as her angelic face and atmosphere collapsed, and she spat on the sword with a strange face like a stern sneer while Lancelot was checking the bodies of the fallen necromancers to find anything useful.

—You damn angel! Fight me fair and square! I'll cut your bird wings up!

"Heh... Shall I bury in some disgusting bog? How dare you let our master touch you with that nasty aura!" Nuriel had never shown this side of her before because she wanted him always to see her best face.

—Damn it! He felt so good holding me—why would he want some ancient frigid virgin angel that probably doesn't even know what a fun time is?

"!!!"

Clang!

Once again, the smooth, fair foot of Nuriel kicked the sword, pulsating with black and red miasma, into the filthy bog, her blade slowly sinking as she smiled, hearing the sword's teary words of apologies, begging Nuriel to save her.

—Save me! It stinks.... please...!

"Hooo... such a cute little sword, stinky and crying... Call me Big Sister, and I might help you."

In reality, thanks to the teasing Morgana, it was revealed the two didn't clash purely because of their angel and demon races but because both were an older sister type and Nuriel had always been the eldest in the past.

Apart from the archangels with Lucifer always bullying her in the past... sometimes even plucking her wings to pass the time out of boredom.

—Big Sister save me~~~

Nuriel smiled as she had just eaten the most delicious honey and cream tart, lifting the sword while using her powerful holy magic to dispel the disgusting stench of the bog and clean the blade, almost causing Kara more pain due to the divine magic being the only element she couldn't fully absorb.

—Heh, stupid angel! Just wait until I chop your wings and feed them to the wolves!

"Did you say anything?"

—Nothing at all, Big Sister!

Nuriel asked while holding the sword over her shoulder, feeling the intense weight that was something a normal existence could carry... "How powerful has my king become since I last saw him?"

***

Lancelot was currently a distance away, his entire body bare as he was finished taking the items and money that remained from the battle, his body now bathing in hot water from his magic.

For the first time in his life, he could cast true magic.

With the snap of his right finger and thumb, a huge pool of chilled water was created above his head, the size of a large water bath. Then Lancelot's left finger snapped, creating a small purple flame inside the ice that caused the water to flow down, being heated like a waterfall.

The water was neither hot nor cold but the perfect temperature as he controlled both spells with his thoughts, cleaning the blood, putrid stench and vile black ooze that replaced the blood of the higher-level undead and necromancers.

'So disgusting...'

"I could never believe the day when I could cast magic without using a sword would come thought... Is it thanks to my bloodlines? No, that wouldn't explain being able to use holy magic."

Lancelot could no longer summon the powerful Dominus, but instead, it had become part of him like his eyelids.

If someone attacked his body or arms, the black demon armour and his dark red dragon scales would instantly protect him, while his horns and long pointed ears were also permanent now, even outside of Avalon.

'it might cause trouble...'

He didn't understand the world's complexities as in the past—he was merely a swordsman, nothing more and nothing less.

In this new life, he was discovering the things he thought were black and white at the moment of his death were now unclear, as there seemed to be more than just Arthur and his backing plotting the end of the empire and his world.

'Somehow... I feel that for every one thing I learn, ten more secrets appear. Like with my mother and her strange power that, when described, reminds me of Nuriel...'

"I should probably visit that alluring and beautiful elf woman and ask; Sebastian seemed reluctant to open my wounds, and his wife might not be happy to speak about it."

Lancelot's magic began to fade as his body became the pristine shape and colour as before; however, now his skin seemed to have a slight ashen grey, with a light red hue, making him further away from his human style of the past.

Closing his eyes, he took a moment to take in the breeze before getting dressed. The clothes were brand new.

Black tunic with silver fixtures and a chainmail vest that protected his vitals but had short sleeves, then his pants were a linen black colour with fine silk patterns with padded wyvern leather boots and, to top it off, a long, flowing royal red cloak with a soft hood.

This was an outfit he found inside a small item ring when he got his suit for his date with Evaine.

"It's not like wearing heavy or special armour will help anymore..."

"A nice flexible outfit that makes me look good and this sweet royal red cape that can hide the blade of Caladbolg should be perfect."

He turned around and began to head towards the two bickering women—he could hear them perfectly and was quite amused at the foul language that a seraphim like Nuriel would use when he was away.

'To be honest, it's like that strange term in the academy... gap moe1? Seeing her different sides is amusing, and she's so cute.'

While heading towards them, he took a look at his attribute page, something that he neglected for so long due to his stagnation and feeling that he wasn't important anymore, but he came to learn that if the king isn't supreme, then the battle is already half lost.

"Those demons from the east... the humans and devouring one in the north... Something tells me that in the south where Sumika's city was. I will face another threat, maybe Arthur himself... and who knows if the West will break into war..."

"Rena, I should contact her soon."

⁜ Status ⁜

Name: Lancelot du Lac (20)

Race: Dragon/Devil/?????

Title: King of Camelot - All Troops of Camelot +Morale +Damage +++Defence

Lord Type: Overlord (Mythical)

Level: 65

Experience: 1000/6500000

⁜ Attributes ⁜

Strength: 125

Agility: 75

Stamina: 110

Endurance: 150

Intelligence: 70

Wisdom: 80

Charisma: 200

Average Attributes: Demon Lord: 40-75, Demon King: 80-140, Demon Emperor: 170-300

⁜ Skills ⁜

Du Lac Swordsmanship (Rank 9) - A mixture of Lancelot's lifetime of training and skill with the sword. Includes: Irregular Defence (Max), Whirlwind Slash (Max), Dual Swordsmanship (Max)

⁜ Du Lac Sword Arts ⁜

∟ Graveyard of Swords

In a fifty-meter radius around Lancelot, swords sprout from the ground like wildflowers, transforming the battlefield into a spectacle of steel and death.

The swords, after serving their purpose, shatter into a spectacular explosion of non-elemental magic.

∟ Blade Waltz

A superior version of the former skill Blade Dance, dancing with ethereal blades on an endless battlefield.

It lasts until the user is exhausted or his ether is empty.

∟ Tempest Blitz

Using the superior speed and wings of the user allows the movement of over thirty metres, instantly slashing any enemies in the user's path.

∟ Elemental Slash

Empower the next attack with any weapon with an element of your choice; damage, cost, and effect depend on the user's rank.

⁜ Magic ⁜

Dragon Magic (Rank 2) - Able to cast all elements of magic apart from holy and dark without chanting, and the power of imagination improves their damage and efficiency.

Demon Magic (Rank 3) - Able to cast all elements of magic apart from holy. The power and effects depend on the user's imagination and skill rank.

Divine Magic (Rank 1) - Able to cast any holy or divine magic of Rank 1 only usable by those blessed by the divine, devout believers or angels.

⁜ Status End ⁜

***

In the distance, he could see the prim and proper angel now hitting a hard stone with the blade, sparks fluttering around as Caladbolg destroyed the rocks...

There were many broken boulders in the background, as it seemed that the two were bickering more than Lancelot thought.

"Nuriel... I think she will behave now—let's head back, okay?" His voice was cheery, and with the lack of his feelings to bring him down, the deep and mellow tone echoed through the forest like a calming advertisement that hooked your attention and didn't let go.

She didn't seem to have the time to adjust as she turned around, her wings fluttering when he appeared in her vision. She was stunned for a moment before, unable to hold back.

"My King... Why are you suddenly twice as dashing?"

What none of the trio realised was that Lancelot's Charm was over the level of a demon Emperor, which was rare—even the most powerful beings didn't normally get a charm this high.

It was only special existences like Lucifer, Nuriel or Morgana if the pair reached that level of improvement.

—Damn, my wielder is a show-off... he goes for a piss in the woods and comes back like some hunk from the abyss... Quick old woman... let me enjoy his smooth hands gripping my guard!

"Both of you stop messing around." Lancelot was happy at their words and compliments, but he couldn't afford to get carried away right now... There was too much to finish.

"We need to return to Maria's town. The enemy was just a vanguard, and the loss of two zombie dragons and a high necromancer will mean they are much more defended, and our plan to attack first is a bust."