บททั้งหมดของ Incubus Reborn: Sleepless promise: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

Morning broke over the city like a song that had no words but carried through every stone and every market stall. The bells rang longer than usual, not with the solemn rhythm of mourning or warning, but with a hesitant joy that rippled through the air.In the narrow lanes where vendors arranged baskets of figs and spices, voices rose in clusters, spilling faster than hands could count coins. Saraphina’s name clung to every mouth.“I saw it with my own eyes,” one man said, his sleeves rolled up, his hands dusted with flour. He slapped his palm against his counter to emphasize the truth. “She crushed it, the talisman, like it was no more than bread crust. Astra herself fell to her knees before her. You think that’s just rumor? No. I was there.”A woman across the stall snorted, though her eyes shone with wonder. “You were pressed so far back you could barely see the banners, let alone the fight. But still… the walls shook. I felt it in my bones. No ordinary soul could have done that.”A

The bells rang before the sun had fully broken the horizon. Their iron mouths tolled across the city, summoning not worship but judgment. The sound carried down every crooked alley, into every cramped tenement, over every market square where the poor had gathered long before dawn.Saraphina walked between two armored guards, her wrists bound by chains that glowed faintly with warding runes. The air was cold, her breath misting as she descended the grand steps into the council plaza.She did not look at the chains. She looked at the people.They lined the edges of the plaza in a sea of faces, thousands pressed together, their voices hushed but restless. Some clutched charms carved with her likeness, others held scraps of cloth marked with the phoenix crest that had sprung up since her duel with Astra. Children perched on their parents’ shoulders, eyes wide.The council had meant for the trial to break her. Instead, it had gathered more witnesses than any coronation in living memory.At

The crowd surged around her, pressing tighter with every heartbeat, their chants shaking the very stones beneath her feet. Saraphina had thought she would feel freedom as a relief, like the cool rush of water after years in chains. Instead, it was heavier than the shackles she had worn, heavier because now every gaze, every voice, every desperate cry was aimed at her.“Tell us what to do, Saraphina!” a woman shouted, clutching a child to her chest.“Lead us!” came another cry from deeper in the mob.Lucian’s hand tightened on her arm. “They’re looking to you,” he said quietly, his voice barely cutting through the roar. “You have to speak before the soldiers regroup.”Her throat felt dry. She had spoken before, but always in moments of defiance, in bursts of fire and anger. Now their eyes asked for something else. Guidance. Direction. Salvation.She drew a breath and raised her voice. “You have stood up to them, and they cannot silence us now. But if we fall into chaos, they will twist

The tavern where Saraphina and Lucian had taken shelter was thick with murmurs, the low buzz of a city caught between awe and fear. News of her victory had spread like wildfire, and now strangers glanced toward her with a mixture of reverence and desperation. She kept her hood low, though she knew it did little to disguise her. Her name was already too loud in the streets to be hidden.Lucian leaned closer, his eyes flicking toward the doorway where yet another cluster of townsfolk entered. “Word travels faster than the wind. Soon the council will hear how you’ve turned the city into your pulpit.”“They already have,” Saraphina said softly. She pushed aside her untouched mug, her fingers restless against the wood. “I can feel it in the way the air itself tightens. They won’t wait long to strike back.”A boy barely grown darted to their table, cheeks flushed. He bowed clumsily, voice trembling with excitement. “Lady Saraphina, my mother says she will follow you wherever you lead. The m

The brazier’s embers glowed low, breathing smoke into the rafters of the warehouse. Most of the freed had settled on the floor, wrapped in torn cloaks or curled against crates, their exhaustion pulling them under despite the weight of what tomorrow promised. The night smelled of rust and soot, of oil-soaked rags that had burned too long.Saraphina remained awake, her back against the wall, knees drawn close. The firelight touched her eyes but could not soften them. She watched each flicker, every movement in the shadows. Sleep, though it tempted her body, did not dare claim her.Lucian stood near the door, silent, a sentinel carved from shadow. His gaze swept every window, every creak of the roof above. At last he crossed to her, crouched low, and spoke just above a whisper.“You should close your eyes, even for a moment. Tomorrow will test more than your resolve.”She shook her head. “Sleep is a luxury I cannot afford. Not now. Not with danger already tightening.”He studied her face