Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone-Chapter 212: We fight.

The first sign something was wrong

was the silence.

An unnatural silence—

thick, pulsing, like the air itself was waiting to snap.

Aiden sat beside the saintess, reviewing his plans when—

Her fingers twitched.

Then her lips parted.

"...Aiden..."

His head rose.

Too early.

She shouldn’t have woken for hours.

Her eyelashes fluttered, then she looked at him—

And he instantly knew.

Something had changed.

Not a physical change.

Not magical.

Something deeper, coiled inside her soul like a serpent stretching in new skin.

She smiled.

Slow.

Unholy.

"Good morning... my incubus."

Aiden froze.

Sabrina dropped the teacup she was holding.

Catherine went rigid.

The saintess sat up, hair spilling over her shoulders, movements too graceful, too sensual. Her eyes—once pure gold—now shimmered with a faint crimson ring.

She reached out, palm grazing down Aiden’s jaw.

"before ..you smelled holy...but now ..You smell like sin..." she whispered.

Her breath trembled.

"And I love it."

Aiden didn’t move.

He didn’t dare.

The incubus influence had rooted itself... far more intensely than he intended.

[The saintess has been charmed]

"Lie back," she murmured softly. "I want to—"

Her sentence died.

Her head snapped toward the window.

Toward the city.

Her pupils constricted.

"Aiden..." she whispered. "i don’t know if I should say this now but ....A holy omen just appeared."

"...What omen?" Catherine demanded.

The saintess swallowed.

"H-His name..."

She raised her trembling hand, and holy energy glowed at her fingertips, forming words in the air—

words she did not write.

Words she couldn’t erase.

....THE FALSE PROPHET WILL DIE BY DAWN....

The room dropped nearly ten degrees.

Sabrina gasped.

Catherine stiffened.

Flora’s hand went to her blade.

Aiden only blinked.

"...That’s dramatic," he said calmly.

But the saintess looked terrified.

"Aiden... this prophecy isn’t from the church. It came from the my vision."

Before anyone could respond, a sudden pressure slammed into the manor—

a suffocating holy aura.

Footsteps echoed down the hall.

Armored. Heavy. Cold.

And then—

The door cracked open.

A man stepped in wearing immaculate white armor and carrying a spear glowing like a newborn star. His presence was suffocating—like holy fire incarnate.

His voice was a quiet death sentence.

"lucifer.. False prophet."

His gaze burned.

"You die tonight."

Before anyone could react, before Catherine could draw her sword or Sabrina utter a spell.

The saintess moved.

Faster than any priestess should.

She threw herself between Aiden and the paladin, eyes blazing with crimson-gold.

"Touch him," she hissed, "and I will tear your grace to ribbons."

Everyone froze.

Even the paladin faltered.

Aiden raised a brow.

Catherine shielded her eyes.

Flora snarled.

Sabrina whispered a spell under another breath, and the paladin just vanished.

And the saintess...

She stared blankly at the sky, something primal flickering behind her gaze.

"Aiden," she whispered. "They’re calling the purge."

Aiden’s expression didn’t change—but something behind his eyes tightened.

"The Church wants a spectacle," he murmured. "Fine. Let’s give them one."

Another paladin lowered his spear.

"You cannot stop it. Leonidus will burn until the false prophet’s blood cools the flames."

Aiden’s lips curved.

"Funny," he said. "I was about to say the same."

The paladin lunged.

He moved like lightning, spear thrusting forward—

But the saintess intercepted him.

She raised her hand, and a burst of crimson-gold force erupted from her palm. Holy energy—

twisted, warped, tainted by Aiden’s incubus influence—

slammed into the paladin and threw him across the room, shattering a marble pillar.

The saintess swayed, panting, confused by her own power.

Sabrina whispered, "That... was not holy magic."

"No," Aiden replied softly. "It wasn’t."

The paladin stood, armor cracked, eyes burning with hatred.

"You defiled her."

Aiden tilted his head.

"Did I?" he asked calmly. "Or did the church simply never understand what she truly was?"

The paladin let out a roar and charged again.

This time, Flora moved.

Her blade hummed, wrapped in a hungry red aura—

the trademark of her bloodline.

She met the paladin’s spear mid-strike, sparks exploding between them.

The force of impact blasted the furniture to dust.

Flora’s grin was feral. "Finally. Someone who won’t die in one hit."

Catherine followed an instant later, sword drawn, eyes blazing.

The paladin braced—

but Sabrina whispered a quick incantation and chains of amethyst light coiled around his ankles, slowing him.

Flora seized the opening.

Her blade sliced across his chest.

Holy blood splattered the floor.

The paladin staggered—but didn’t fall.

"You think this matters?" he spat. "Look outside."

Aiden turned toward the window.

Another holy flare soared upward—

then another.

And another.

And suddenly the truth became clear:

They weren’t signals.

They were detonations.

The streets below erupted in white fire.

Adventurers screamed.

Buildings cracked.

Symbols of prayer burned into the cobblestone.

The church had unleashed a Holy Purge within Leonidus.

The paladin laughed, voice hoarse.

"The purge won’t stop until the false prophet dies. Every life taken tonight is on your hands, Lucifer."

For the first time, Aiden’s expression changed.

It hardened.

Not with guilt.

With rage.

A low, almost inhuman sound vibrated in his chest.

"You want my blood?" he murmured. "Fine."

His eyes darkened to obsidian.

"Come and try to take it...."

The saintess grabbed his sleeve, breath quickening.

"Aiden... don’t go out there. There are hundreds of holy knights. If they surround you—"

He touched her cheek.

And for a moment, the entire room stilled.

"I remade your identity," he said quietly. "But I never asked you to worship me."

She froze.

His thumb brushed her jawline.

"Tonight, I give you a choice. Stay inside and live a safe lie—

or walk out there with me, into the truth."

Her heart stuttered.

She didn’t even have to think.

"I walk with you."

Aiden smiled. Softly. Almost tenderly.

Then he turned, cloak swirling as he strode toward the door.

"Flora," he said, "clear a path."

Flora’s smile widened to a bloodthirsty crescent.

"With pleasure."

She kicked open the door, blade igniting.

Catherine followed, expression fierce.

Sabrina prepared spell circles that shimmered around her hands.

The saintess walked behind Aiden, her aura unstable and hungry.

The paladin attempted one last desperate strike—

Aiden didn’t even look.

He raised one hand and whispered:

"Down."

An invisible force, thick with demonic dominance, slammed the paladin to the floor so hard the stone cracked under him.

The women glanced at each other in shock.

Aiden kept walking.

"If he survives," Aiden said, "let him deliver a message."

He paused at the threshold of the burning city.

"Your purge ends now."

Leonidus roared with holy fire.

But Aiden—smiling with quiet, lethal calm—stepped into the chaos as if entering a ballroom.

And the saintess followed, whispering with trembling devotion:

"Aiden...

I will burn heaven itself if you order it."

Holy fire rained from the heavens like molten judgment.

Aiden stepped into the burning streets with the calm of a man walking into warm bathwater, his cloak trailing over cracked stone glowing with divine heat. Every breath he drew tasted like ash and sanctified fury.

Behind him, the saintess clung to consciousness as her corrupted aura shimmered.

Sabrina’s spell circles spiraled around her palms like little galaxies.

Catherine marched like a lioness guarding her king.

Flora bounced on her heels, eager for carnage.

Leonidus—usually a city of gold—was now an arena.

And Aiden was the center of it.

A horn blared—deep, thunderous, shaking dust from rooftops.

Then came the voices.

Chanting. Unified. Terrifying.

PURGE THE FALSE PROPHET.

PURGE THE DEMON’S WHORE.

CLEANSE THE CITY WITH HIS BLOOD!!!

Dozens of holy knights marched around the corner, shields raised, spears brimming with radiant light.

Their leader—a High Purifier wrapped in armor engraved with scripture—pointed his halberd at Aiden.

"Your existence ends tonight."

Aiden exhaled softly.

"Dramatic."

Sabrina whispered, "Aiden... that armor is resistant to our magic—"

"Then we won’t use normal magic," Aiden replied.

He stepped forward.

"Flora."

Her blade flashed. "Yes, love?"

"Show me what happens..." He smiled lazily. "When a dragon’s daughter plays with holy fire."

Flora’s laughter was bright and mad.

Her aura ignited—scales of shimmering blood-red crawling up her arms. The ground cracked beneath her feet as she launched forward, melting through the air like a meteor.

The knights braced.

Too slowly.

Flora hit the line with a shockwave that blew shields from hands and shattered armor like porcelain.

She danced among them—

graceful, efficient—

each slash leaving arcs of red and sparks of gold.

Catherine strode in behind her, sword swinging with regal precision. Every movement was elegant savagery.

Sabrina summoned a dome of shimmering violet around the saintess.

"Aiden!" she warned. "Their spells are compressing—if they release that light cannon—"

"They won’t," he said.

He snapped his fingers.

A shadow bloomed from under the knights’ formation—his aura, bending light around their feet. They stumbled, disoriented, as reality shifted like water.

The High Purifier roared and swung his halberd.

Aiden simply stepped aside, letting the blade carve a crater in the street.

"You’re all predictable," Aiden murmured.

"And you," the Purifier growled, "are a blasphemy that breathes."

The Purifier’s aura exploded outward, a burst of molten gold—

pure holy energy meant to vaporize anything demonic.

The saintess screamed.

The blast was heading straight for them.

Aiden didn’t move.

He didn’t raise a hand.

He didn’t cast a spell.

He simply whispered:

"Saintess."

Her body reacted before her mind did.

She thrust out her hand, and the corrupted holy magic Aiden had planted in her soul surged out like a living beast.

Red-gold wings of energy burst from her back—

feathered, beautiful, monstrous—

catching the Purifier’s attack midair.

The blast shattered against her shield of twisted holiness.

Everyone froze.

Even Aiden.

The saintess trembled, staring at her own hands. "I... I didn’t mean to—"

Aiden stepped behind her, his voice brushing her ear like silk.

"You meant to protect me."

Her breath hitched.

"Yes."

The High Purifier’s helmet cracked. Blood trickled.

"Unholy... saintess..." he rasped.

"You... are the greater sin."

Aiden’s eyes sharpened.

"No one calls what’s mine a sin."

The Purifier raised his halberd high, scripture glowing so bright the air hummed painfully.

"I CALL UPON HALLOWED ABSOLUTION—

LET THE FALSE PROPHET AND HIS HARLOT BE ERASED."

Catherine swore. "He’s summoning a Saint-Class Ritual! Aiden—if that hits—"

Sabrina threw up spell circles. "I can’t intercept that!"

Flora staggered back, panting. "Aiden—get behind me—"

The sky split open.

A column of golden annihilation fell from the heavens.

It was the kind of magic that rewrote landscapes.

That ended armies.

That vaporized cities.

The saintess screamed Aiden’s name.

The blast hit.

Dust surged.

Light devoured everything.

The world went silent—

Then the glow faded.

And standing at the center of the crater...

his hand raised casually...

Was Aiden.

Untouched.

The Purifier choked on breath. "How—how did you survive—"

Aiden cracked his neck lazily.

"That wasn’t holy magic."

The air twisted.

"That was faith..I don’t fear when God is with me..."

He lifted his gaze, expression turning dark, predatory.

"And faith bends for me."

A ripple pulsed out from him—

a shockwave of raw incubus dominance—

warping the holy light itself, twisting it around his body like a cloak.

The Purifier stepped back in horror. "You—what are you?"

Aiden smiled.

"Your new prophet, apparently."

He vanished.

Reappeared behind the Purifier.

And whispered—

"Bow."

The command wasn’t magic.

It wasn’t influence.

It was simply power.

The Purifier slammed to his knees, armor gouging the ground.

Aiden placed a hand over the man’s helmet.

"Tell your bishops," he murmured, "that their purge has failed."

The ground around them fractured like glass.

"And next time..." His smile was cruel. "I will burn the whole central church in the name of God."