The Milf's Dragon-Chapter 139. The Infiltrator

Nexus Prime hadn’t changed after months of being away.

Owen stood on a rooftop overlooking the city’s central district, watching the lights flicker on as evening fell. The same towers. The same traffic. The same distant hum of millions of people who had no idea that demon generals were dying across the world, that the seal holding the Desecrator was weakening, that the Will might wake at any moment and decide they needed to be reset again.

"It’s strange, isn’t it?" Solhart stood beside him, his Blonde hair catching the wind, his eyes fixed on the same view. "How the world continues, How people go to work, raise families, worry about taxes and traffic, while everything that makes their existence possible is falling apart around them."

"Well, you’ve been watching for a thousand years," Owen said. "Does it get easier?"

"No." Solhart’s voice was quiet. "It gets harder. Because you start to see the patterns. The cycles. The way every generation makes the same mistakes, forgets the same lessons, convinces itself that this time will be different." He turned to Owen. "And sometimes... sometimes you start to wonder if it’s even worth saving."

"Then why are you still here?"

Solhart smiled. It was a tired smile, the smile of someone who’d been asking himself that question for centuries. "Because I remember what it was like before the Will woke. Before the celestials were erased. Before the dragons died. I remember a world that was worth saving. And I keep hoping it can be that way again."

He turned away from the view. "The infiltrator is in the Ministry of hunter affairs. Probably Has been for years. Works in procurement, of all things. Access to every weapon, every artifact, every piece of magical technology the government acquires. If Vorthraxx wanted to cripple human defenses before he returns, she’s in the perfect position to do it."

"She..." Owen said.

"Demon General Vex. Third of the seven. She doesn’t fight like Azmireth. Doesn’t corrupt like Malachar. Doesn’t raise armies like Gornak. She hides. She waits. She prepares. By the time we knew she was here, she’d already been embedded for six years."

"Then How did you find her?"

Solhart reached into his coat and pulled out a small crystal. It glowed with faint blue light—the same light Owen had seen in Chronara’s eyes when she looked at the future. "A gift. From someone who knew I’d need it. She left it for me, a thousand years ago, with instructions on when to use it."

"Chronara."

"She called it futuresight insurance. A message from the past to the present, telling me exactly when and where the next threat would appear." Solhart’s grip tightened on the crystal. "She gave me four names. Azmireth. Malachar. Gornak. Vex. The others were still hidden Within her sight. But these four—these she could see."

The crystal pulsed once, then went dark.

"Vex is in the ministry now," Solhart continued. "Every night, she stays late to note which weapons are going where, which defenses are being strengthened, which are being neglected. By the time we expose her, she’ll have years of intelligence to use against us."

"Then we are not going to give her time to use it."

Solhart nodded. "once we’re in, we will have to move fast. Vex will know she’s been discovered the moment we breach her office. She’ll run. We can’t let her reach the dungeon network."

"Dungeon network?"

"She’s been seeding escape routes for years. Small, unstable gates that lead to pocket dimensions. Places where she can hide, regroup, wait us out." Solhart moved toward the roof’s edge. "If she reaches one, she’s gone. We’ll never find her again."

Owen followed. "Alright then, let’s get this started"

---

The Ministry of Hunter Affairs occupied a building that had been beautiful once. Now it was just another government office—fluorescent lights, security checkpoints, the smell of stale coffee and old paper. But beneath the surface, magic hummed. Wards on every wall. Detection spells on every door. The kind of security that came from decades of dealing with threats that normal people never saw.

Solhart’s contact was a clerk named Mira. She met them in the loading dock, her hands shaking, her eyes darting toward every shadow.

"She’s in her office," Mira whispered. "Third floor, east wing. She’s been there since this morning. She doesn’t usually stay this late."

"Does she know we’re coming?" Owen asked.

"I don’t think so. But she’s paranoid. She’ll feel something. She always does."

Solhart touched her shoulder. "Go home. Lock your doors. Don’t tell anyone you saw us."

Mira nodded and disappeared into the dark.

Solhart moved toward the service elevator. Owen caught his arm.

"If she’s been here for years, why now? Why tonight?"

"Because tonight is the night her intelligence becomes actionable. The weapons she’s been tracking? They’re being deployed tomorrow. The defenses she’s been mapping? They’re being reinforced next week. If she wants to strike, she strikes now."

Owen released him. "Then let’s not keep her waiting."

---

The third floor was empty.

Offices stood open, their lights off, their desks cleared for the night. But at the end of the corridor, one door was closed. Light bled from beneath it. Voices came from within—one low, one sharp, one that sounded like tearing paper.

Solhart raised his hand. Three fingers. Two. One.

Owen hit the door first.

It exploded inward, wood and wards splintering. Solhart was through before the fragments hit ground, his sword already drawn, his presence filling the room with the weight of a thousand years of violence.

Vex was ready.

She had been waiting. She stood at the far wall, her hand pressed to a shimmering tear in reality—a gate, already open, already waiting.

She was small for a demon general. Human-sized. Unremarkable. But her eyes, her eyes were still the pitch black of a demon.

"You’re late,My sweeties" she said. "I expected you hours ago."

Solhart’s sword came up. "The gate closes when you step through. Not before."

"The gate closes when I want it to close. And I don’t want it to close yet." She smiled. "I’ve been waiting six years for this conversation. I’m not going to rush it."

Owen moved to flank her. "What conversation?"

"The one where I tell you what’s coming. What you’ve been fighting for. What you’re really up against." She looked at Solhart. "You think killing us will stop him? You think sealing him again will work? He’s been waiting a thousand years. He’s learned. He’s grown. When he comes back he won’t make the same mistakes."

Solhart’s expression didn’t change. "Then we’ll make sure he doesn’t come back."

"How? You couldn’t kill him before. The dragon king couldn’t kill him. The gods themselves couldn’t kill him. What makes you think this time will be different?"

She looked at Owen then her eyes fixed on his.

"Because of you?" She laughed. "Because you carry the royal bloodline? Because you’ve walked through his memories, seen his failures, learned his lessons?" She shook her head. "You’re a child playing at being a king."

Owen met her gaze. "Better than hiding in a government office, waiting for orders."

Vex’s smile faded as she looked at him for a long moment. Then she stepped back, into the gate. "Then come. Prove it."

She disappeared.

Solhart moved first and Owen followed.

---

The gate led to a dungeon—or what had been a dungeon. The walls were cracking, the ceiling sagging, the whole space collapsing as the gate that sustained it destabilized. Vex stood at the center of a chamber that had once been grand, her hands raised, her power already gathering.

"You’ve trapped yourself," Solhart said. "This place is falling apart."

"I’ve trapped you." Vex’s voice echoed. "The gate closes in minutes. If you want to stop me, you’ll have to kill me before it does. And I’ve been preparing for this fight longer than you’ve been alive."

She attacked.

The dungeon responded to her will—walls that had been cracking reformed, reshaping into barriers, into weapons, into traps. Stone spears erupted from the floor. Chains of corrupted metal whipped through the air. Shadows that had weight, that had teeth, that had hunger, lunged from every corner.

Solhart met them with a thousand years of experience.

His sword moved like light, cutting through shadow, through stone, through the magic that bound the dungeon together. He didn’t dodge—he didn’t need to. His blade was always where the attack would be before the attack arrived. His feet found footing that shouldn’t exist. His presence filled the collapsing space with something that wasn’t power, exactly, but certainty.

Owen hadn’t seen Solhart fight before, he moved like Dominus had moved. Like someone who had nothing left to prove and everything to protect.

Vex pushed harder. The dungeon answered. The walls closed in, the ceiling fell, the floor cracked open into pits that had no bottom.

And through it all, Owen just watched and waited.

Solhart drove her back. His blade found her shoulder, her side, her leg. Each wound was shallow as she was too fast for killing blows but each wound bled. Each wound weakened her. Each wound brought the dungeon closer to collapse.

"You’re wasting time," Vex hissed. "The gate is closing. In minutes, you’ll be trapped here. Buried and Forgotten."

Solhart’s blade thrusted towards her throat. "Then I’ll die knowing you die first."

He pushed.

She fell back, through the collapsing walls, into the heart of the dungeon. Solhart followed.

Then Owen finally moved.

He’d been waiting for this moment, the moment when Vex was off-balance, when her focus was on Solhart, when the gate was almost closed.

He activated his Sovereignty of Space-Time.

The world slowed. Vex’s movements became frozen, her expression caught between triumph and terror. Solhart’s blade hung in the air, inches from her chest. The gate’s light was a smear of purple across his vision.

Owen crossed the distance. He drove his claws through Vex’s chest.

Time snapped back.

Vex’s eyes went wide. She looked down at the claws that had pierced her, at the blood that was already pooling, at the gate that was already closing. "You—!" she breathed. "You...fucking—!"

"The child playing king," Owen said as he pulled his claws free.

She fell as The dungeon collapsed while Solhart pulled Owen through the gate as it closed behind them.

They landed in the ministry’s loading dock, gasping as the gate flickered once, twice, then died off.

Solhart sat against a crate with his sword across his knees and his eyes closed. "Three generals down."