Strongest Incubus System-Chapter 245: Elizabeth is having a huge fight.

Steam still rose from the ground where Elizabeth had stepped.

The ice melted in irregular circles around her, as if the environment itself recoiled before the presence she carried. The scarlet mist didn’t disappear—it remained there, dense, alive, breathing along with her.

Damon and Esther didn’t answer.

Not because they had nothing to say.

But because, for the first time since the beginning of the fight... they knew they had crossed the line.

Elizabeth took another step.

The pressure increased.

"I asked you something."

The voice didn’t rise.

It wasn’t a scream.

But there was something there that crushed the air—as if each word carried enough weight to force anyone to bend.

Damon tried to stand again.

The mist around his arm tightened instantly.

It didn’t hurt him.

But it made it clear.

No.

He froze.

Ester remained on her knees, her breathing ragged, her fingers still slightly frozen by reflex. Tiny crystals formed and dissolved around her hand, betraying how much her body was still in a state of combat.

Elizabeth looked first at her.

Then at Damon.

And then... at what remained of the courtyard.

The cracked walls.

The partially collapsed ceiling.

The dead garden.

The layer of ice covering everything like a tomb.

Her jaw clenched.

"You...," she began, but stopped.

Not for lack of words.

But because there were too many words.

She ran a hand over her face, pushing her hair back, revealing her eyes—now even redder, gleaming with a rage that wasn’t just irritation.

It was fear transformed into fury.

"I leave you two alone for a few hours," she continued, finally, her voice still controlled but dangerously close to breaking, "and I find this?"

She made a sweeping gesture with her hand.

The mist followed the movement.

Fragments of ice were pushed aside like dust.

"This wasn’t a drill."

Silence.

"This wasn’t control."

Another step.

Closer.

"This was a complete loss of control."

Damon clenched his fists slightly.

But didn’t look up.

Esther swallowed hard.

Still silent.

Elizabeth stopped exactly between the two.

Looked at Damon first.

"You."

Simple.

Direct.

"You spent the whole night burying people."

Each word was a blade.

"You barely slept."

Another step.

"You didn’t eat."

She tilted her head slightly.

"But you thought the best decision was to come here and beat yourself up until there was nothing left?"

Damon closed his eyes for a moment.

Nothing more.

Elizabeth didn’t wait for an answer.

She turned to Esther.

"And you."

Her voice changed.

No longer cold.

But sharper.

"You just came out of a fight where you almost died."

Her gaze briefly dropped to her bandaged arm.

"Your body is still recovering."

She looked up again.

"And you decided it was a great idea to let it all out... without any limits?"

Esther’s eyes wavered.

For a second.

Just one.

Elizabeth took another step.

Now she was too close.

Close enough that they both felt the heat—the real heat—coming from her, contrasting violently with the cold that dominated the courtyard.

"You weren’t training."

Her voice dropped.

Low.

Dangerous.

"You were destroying yourselves."

Silence.

Neither of them protested.

Because there was no argument.

Elizabeth took a deep breath.

And that was worse than if she had screamed.

The mist around her expanded slightly, pulsing like a heart.

"Do you think this solves anything?"

She looked from one to the other.

"That this brings anyone back?"

Nothing.

Damon lowered his gaze even further.

Esther pressed her fingers against her own knee.

"Or that this...," Elizabeth continued, now with a hint of something more in her voice—something deeper, more personal—"prevents it from happening again?"

The silence grew heavy.

Loaded.

Because there... was the truth.

And yet—

"It doesn’t prevent it."

She took another step.

Now, truly close.

The mist lessened.

It didn’t disappear.

But it receded.

As if she were holding something much larger back by force.

"This only creates another problem."

She pointed slightly to the destroyed floor.

"Another weak point."

Her eyes returned to Damon.

"Another opening."

Then to Esther.

"Another opportunity."

Her voice hardened.

"For someone to come in and finish what they started."

That hit.

Hard.

Damon closed his eyes tighter this time.

Esther looked away.

Elizabeth watched them both.

And for the first time...

There was a brief pause.

A different kind of silence.

Less cutting.

But heavier.

"If you want to get stronger...," she said finally, her voice lower, more controlled, "then stop acting like you’re disposable."

Neither of them answered.

Because that—

That hit right in the face.

The mist around her began to dissipate slowly.

The ice continued to crack beneath her feet.

The air was still cold.

But the pressure...

The pressure changed.

Less explosive.

More dense.

More real.

Elizabeth exhaled slowly.

And then he said, without raising his voice, but leaving no room for discussion:

"Get up."

Damon opened his eyes.

Ester did too.

For a second, neither of them moved.

The air was still heavy.

The ground still creaked under the cracks in the ice.

Elizabeth’s presence still filled the entire space.

"I said... get up."

It wasn’t any louder.

But it was definitive.

Damon placed one hand on the frozen ground.

His fingers slid lightly on the uneven surface before finding firmness. His body responded late—muscles too tired, too overworked. Still, he forced himself to stand.

First one knee.

Then the other.

He stood.

Unsteady for half a second.

But he didn’t fall.

Ester took longer.

She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising with visible effort. Her hand pressed against the floor helped propel her body upward, even with her arm still compromised. Her legs trembled as she stood.

But, just like him—

She didn’t fall.

They both stood there.

Standing.

In silence.

Waiting.

Elizabeth watched them.

For a moment... nothing happened.

Then—

She moved.

Quickly.

Directly.

Her hand crossed the space before either of them could react.

Snap.

The slap struck Damon’s face with enough force to turn his head to the side.

It wasn’t uncontrolled.

It was precise.

Measured.

But charged.

He didn’t react.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t say anything.

He just stood there, his jaw clenched, absorbing it.

Elizabeth had already turned away.

The second blow came without pause.

A crack.

Her hand struck Ester’s face.

The impact made her body sway half a step to the side, her balance almost giving way.

She closed her eyes for a moment.

She breathed.

And remained standing.

Silence.

The dry sound of the blows seemed to echo louder than any scream could have.

Elizabeth stared at them.

One.

Then the other.

Her eyes were still hard.

But something there... had changed.

It was no longer an explosion.

It was a decision.

"I should hit harder."

The voice came out low.

Without tremor.

Without hesitation.

"You really should."

She tilted her head slightly, observing the two more closely.

Their state.

Their exhaustion.

The blood.

Their bruised hands. Irregular breathing.

Small, involuntary tremors.

She let out a small sigh through her nose.

Almost imperceptible.

"But I’ve seen enough."

One step forward.

The fog around her was no longer advancing.

It was contained.

"You two are going to faint any minute now."

Direct.

Without softening.

"If you don’t fall first."

Neither of them answered.

Because they knew.

Elizabeth turned her face slightly, looking around once more.

The destroyed courtyard.

The ice.

The wounded mansion.

She ran her hand through her hair again, in a quick gesture.

Impatient.

Controlling herself.

"So here’s what you’re going to do now."

She turned her gaze back to them.

Firm.

No room for discussion.

"You two go to your rooms."

A pause.

"Go take a bath."

Another.

"Go clean up that blood."

Her gaze quickly swept over Damon’s hands.

Then over Esther’s arm.

"Go to bed."

And then—

"Go to sleep."

The word came loaded with command.

Not suggestion.

"That’s not optional."

Silence.

The ice beneath her feet crackled.

Elizabeth turned partially, already looking at the rest of the courtyard.

"I’ll take care of this."

A brief gesture with her hand.

Indicating everything.

The destruction.

The cold.

The chaos.

"Before you two manage to make things even worse."

Damon opened his mouth.

As if to speak.

But closed it again. Esther didn’t try.

They knew.

There was no argument.

There was no justification.

There was nothing that could be said there that wouldn’t make everything worse.

Elizabeth still didn’t look at them.

But her presence...

Still held them in place.

"Get out of my sight."

The phrase came without anger.

But with a deep weariness.

"Now."

Damon was the first to move.

One step.

Heavy.

Then another.

Each movement betraying the effort.

Esther followed him.

Slower.

But firm.

They didn’t look at each other.

They said nothing.

They just obeyed.

And, for the first time since the beginning of everything—

They retreated.

Elizabeth remained alone.

In the center of the destroyed courtyard.

Silence returned.

But it wasn’t the same anymore.

She looked around.

She took a deep breath.

And then—

The scarlet mist began to expand again.

Slowly.

Controlled.

Taking over the space.

Ready to do what neither of them could do there.

Fix it.