Incubus Lord: I Summoned My Lustful Wives

Lancelot was a little exhausted, not just physically but rather mentally. In this life, the daily management of his troops and commanders was too hectic, with them all being young and attractive women rather than gruff goblins and orcs.

'I need a drink...'

He didn't want to disturb Sebastian at this late time; who knows, the man might have a wife and cute daughter, and the world would soon become hell.

So he walked the cobbled roads quietly, with the occasional couple holding hands and walking along, greeting Lancelot with a smile.

It was peaceful as he watched the scenery of his hometown; a sense of relief and desire began to surface.

'I almost forgot how beautiful a place my home was, the wars, Avalon and Arthur...'

"When was the last time I took a moment to appreciate this place?"

He quickly took out his phone and began to message Guinevere and Sumika because they both still freeloaded at his place despite having their elite apartments.

In a few days, it was filled with their makeup and other crap...

'Yet when I told them to put it back in their apartments... they were like "Sorry... I have too many outfits... and there's no room. It's okay, right?"

So after he messaged them, he turned off his phone and the connection to his troops other than emergency contact.

Of course, looking up at the local bar, "The Celtica Tavern," he had already sent an invite to the nobleman who seemed to want to make friends.

Edward Barret.

Lancelot opened the door.

His current outfit was the Elite uniform washed, ironed and cleaned by Marimo in the other world.

She had used a berry that smelled like vanilla and flowers like lavender to add a scent soothing for him and the people around him.

It wasn't a placebo; those items had magical effects.

'Well, Marimo is amazing, or rather Frost Hares all knew this... we used just to clean things in the lake, hahaha!'

The scent and the clean and silky soft feel were also part of her hard work.

Inside the bar, it was rather quiet, but several customers were nursing their ale mugs, talking amongst themselves.

The Celtica people originated from the Far Empire and an island west of the Empire and lived there before the central people settled from another land.

Celtica could be traced back to before the current King and Empire, and some said they were the true heirs of the Empire.

Most of the nobles in the Empire would likely execute a commoner who said this out loud.

While the people in the Empire were more accepting of the commoners and even encouraged them to speak their minds, those who held power would not relinquish their privileges without a fight.

And that made Lancelot chuckle. 'Their damn pride as noblemen, I'll thoroughly crush them,' he thought.

In the far corner of the tavern, he saw a nice open seat before heading to the bar as the pretty ginger barmaid was pulling a pint for another gentleman who gave Lancelot a note, "Oh er' a student? How fancy, haha! Come fer a pint ere' Laddie, you one of us?"

The man's heavy accent was rather pleasant to the ears as Lancelot smiled with a nod. "Haha, well, although my family originated from the Celtica, we lost that fine accent," He smiled, flicking five silver coins to the barmaid. "I'll take care of the gentlemen next pink. Can I get two more of what he's drinking? Thanks."

The ale was dark, like night, with soft suds bubbling at the top, a creamy layer of heaven.

'This stuff became rare once the world became hectic... Ah... I cannot wait to drink this ice-cold Guannis!'

"Ooooh, good boy! Ere' have some o' me snacks." The man tossed him a packet of the best "Pork Scratching" as Lancelot caught them mid-air.

"Sir, your amount is more than enough for 10 pints..." The pretty barmaid whispered while Lancelot felt amused at the difference that inflation a year later would make. "No worries, take a few silver for yourself, work hard. You're looking to enter the Academy, right?"

Lancelot could see the practise sigil on her left hand; this was used by students or people training to enter the Academy to become a Lord. Now he had real ones with the succubus on his left, frost hare on his right, and a seraphim's wings on his back.

"Y-Yes! T-Thank you, sir!" She bowed happily.

The man smiled as he looked at Lancelot before he stood up and went to the toilet; Lancelot took this chance to take his pints and head to the corner seat. He liked that the ash-coloured wood around the bar was glossy, but the scent of ale and tobacco was soothing.

'Heh, the ladies will be very surprised when they find out that I've been spending time drinking ale, haha!'

As he sat down, the door opened as a well-dressed young man entered, his blonde hair swaying as he looked around before seeing Lancelot's arm waving to him.

"Yo, Edward, was it?"

"Lancelot! You're fine... not even a scar!?"

"Haha, didn't think you'd be here so quickly."

"Well, I am curious about this fine ale, and this place is the best in the town... but you seem close to the staff?" Edward chuckled as he looked at the barmaid, who looked at them nervously before returning to serving other customers.

"Hmm? I gave her a few tips to help her get into the Academy. She is a hard-working girl, that one. You know how it is; they need the coin, so I gave her more."

"Why does it look like she wants to 'Repay' you..." Edward smiled with an obscene look, but the white beard from his ale made him look stupid.

Lancelot shrugged his shoulder as he sipped his ale; the foam covered his lips with a long sigh, as he could feel the bitter yet refreshing drink wash down his throat.

"Good ale, I was a noble in the past by blood, then again, I will become a noble once more... Because we're Lord's, haha." A slight bitter tone came from his lips as Edward could only grimace, remembering the Celtica noble's purge that ruined most nobles with a history even longer than the kings.

Edward was one such man who didn't care much for his enemies, but his allies and friends were different. And he wanted Lancelot to become his best friend.

"Say, Lancelot, what would you do if you could change things? What if you could make our lives better?"

The young man asked Lancelot as they chatted, enjoying the ale. Lancelot sighed, "That's a rather heavy question..."

Edward shrugged his shoulders as he downed his drink. "You don't have to answer me, but... If you had the power, could you change the system? Would you want to?"

"It depends, I guess... I believe some things should stay as it is, and some should not," Lancelot replied, looking out to the dark skies."

"But for now... I am fine with things as they are..."

The young man seemed satisfied with his reply as he raised a mug in a toast. "Then I shall pray that you do not have regrets when that time comes."

After that, the pair enjoyed a good drink together and bragged about their lovely wives. (Guinnevere, Marimo and Morgana) For Lancelot and Laura for Edward.

'A good man...'

After they finished, Edward took out his phone and gave Lancelot his private number.

"Lancelot, thank you for tonight; if you need anything, call me."

"Hahaha, you're the same age as me. You don't have to sound so distant, but thanks, Ed."

"Ah, young people, full of life, and it's a shame, but I cannot join them, haha!" The old man at the bar laughed as he wiped the counter while watching Lancelot leave after adding more tips to the jar as he left.

"Dad... why do you pretend to be a punter every other night?" The ginger barmaid asked, her eyes watching the handsome Lancelot leaving after sighing to herself.

"Oh... sorry, Miri, but that boy was so handsome, I worried he might try to take you away to his bed, hahaha." The old man's left hand showed a large blade and shield, showing he was a Lord. "But even when tipping or speaking to you, he never looked away from your face or stepped over the line... a good lad, even ate the pork scratchings I made!"

Miri couldn't help but blush as she took the pint mugs away. "D-Dad, that's only because he doesn't know how you make those."

"Hmm, and you don't tell him?"

"S-Shut up; I'm going upstairs, you idiot."

Her father only smiled as he watched his daughter leave the bar and head upstairs. He heard a quiet sigh in his head. "You can't stop them growing up... oh boy, Angela, can you watch over her to ensure that handsome lad doesn't make her cry? Those eyes seemed serious."

The next moment, his head was slapped.

He turned around, about to shout, but the ginger woman, looking around 38, wearing a long black dress with leather gloves, looked at him with a frown. "Who will watch over our daughter as if she's dead?"

"Big man' you wantin' me dead, aye?"

"Ahh... wife, forgive me' it was a joke! Aye, a joke!"

"Tsk, who were ya talkin' about anyway?" She asked, placing her bag on the counter, a black spider sigil on her left hand.

Another Lord.

"Some handsome lad named Lancelot, tipping your daughter and making her swoon... She might have a swollen stomach if we don't pay attention-- Ouch!?"

Once again, his wife slapped him, "What swollen stomach! Our daughter isn't an idiot like you."

"Wife, please..."

"Hmmm, go upstairs and get tea on. I'm starving."

Angela looked at the door, her hair darker than Miri's with a more sinister atmosphere... "The boy who gave that prick Pendragon a scar made our Miri swoon..."

"Fufu~ interesting fate. Our old ally, the Du Lac's boy, met his ex-fiancée... haha. Interesting... Grandmother... your belief in fate seems more interesting to me now..."

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