The Milf's Dragon-Chapter 87. The Ironmane Border

Morning in the compound began with a system notification Owen hadn’t been expecting.

[Dragon King System]

[Story Dungeon Formation Detected: 340km East-Northeast]

[Estimated Manifestation: 14-21 days]

The encounter with Dominus had changed things. His connection with the fragments had grown strong enough that the system could now pick up a story dungeon’s mana fluctuation before it fully formed.

He stood at the window and read the notification twice. Fourteen to twenty-one days. That was shorter than he’d expected. The shamans had described the formation as six months in progress, which had made him think weeks at minimum, probably longer.

Something... or someone was speeding it up.

He brought it to the morning meeting. The group gathered in the compound’s main room, Sael and two of her senior delegation members among them, Leah seated between the Pride delegation and Owen’s group.

"Fourteen days minimum," Yuki said, looking at the notification he’d shared through the bond and then read aloud for the others. "That’s the window."

"The acceleration is a concern," Alfred said, studying the map of the beastfolk continent spread across the table. "If the Story Dungeon is in the eastern territories and the Ironmane have closed their borders—"

"Then we either get their cooperation or we force our way through," Odessa finished.

"Or we go around them entirely," Leah said. She leaned over the map and pointed. "The Ashplain runs between the Ironmane’s northern border and the mountains. It’s neutral ground — a traditional route maintained by all three clans under an old agreement. Marak can’t officially close it without a unanimous council vote, and he hasn’t tried."

"Yet," Sael said.

"Yes, yet," Leah agreed. "But if we move before he does—"

"How long through the Ashplain?" Owen asked.

"Five days to the eastern approaches. Another day to where the system is placing the formation." Leah traced the route with her finger. "Six days total, assuming no complications."

"The Ashplain has never been uncomplicated in my lifetime," Sael said. "It’s a boundary zone. Things that don’t belong in settled territory end up there — monsters from the deeper plains, outcasts from all three clans, and occasionally deliberate obstacles left by people who want to discourage certain travellers from getting through."

"You’re saying someone might try to block us," Owen said.

"I’m saying you should treat the Ashplain as a threat, not a road." Sael looked at him steadily. "Can your group handle that?"

Owen looked around the table.

Yuki, whose Battle Intuition had been firing more frequently since they had arrived in Vashari. Odessa, who had been sending increasingly pointed messages to her Azure Sky Dragon’s handler about combat readiness. Alfred, who had produced a whetstone from somewhere and was dragging it along the steel rim of his shield with quiet focus. And Leah, whose claws had extended and retracted twice since Marak’s name had come up.

"Yes," he said.

"Then there is also the matter of what is accelerating the dungeon," Sael continued. She glanced at Ren: a broad-shouldered lion-folk man, her senior delegation "Tell them."

Ren placed both hands flat on the table. "My scouts reported two things this week that I hadn’t yet passed on to the Pride-Mother, because I was waiting for confirmation." He looked at Owen. "I have it now. First: there is someone moving through the eastern territories at night, avoiding Ironmane patrols, heading toward the formation site. My scouts describe her as small, humanoid, purple-skinned."

Owen went still.

"Azmireth," Yuki said.

"If that is her name." Ren continued.

"Second: the Ironmane settlement at the eastern border, the one our scouts say doesn’t feel right, has been expanding quickly. They’re building something. The work is being done at night, and the workers are not Ironmane."

"Not Ironmane," Owen said. "Then what are they?"

"My scouts couldn’t get close enough to identify them clearly. But the mana signatures—" Ren paused. "I don’t have the technical vocabulary an Association-trained hunter would have. The way they described it was: an unpleasant smell. we beast folk sense mana better through smell. And the mana is present but there is an absence about it"

Owen thought about when he was standing in Eckstein dungeon field, reaching out with his Mana Sense, and finding no trace of Azmireth until she had spoken directly into his ear.

"Demons," he said.

No one spoke for a moment.

"The sealed continent," Sael said quietly.

"At this point, It’s safe to say it’s Partially breached," Owen said. "We ran into three of them on the human continent, operating under Eckstein’s cover. If Azmireth is here and there are more of them working the eastern border—"

"Then the breach is larger than just three demons," Alfred said.

"Significantly larger," Owen agreed.

Outside, Vashari’s market had come to life: merchants calling out, carts moving, a city doing what cities do in the morning.

Fourteen days. A story dungeon forming in territory run by a clan whose leadership had been compromised, with demons working its eastern border under cover of night.

"We leave in two days," Owen said. "That gives us time to prepare, and gives Sael’s contacts time to get a clearer picture of the Ashplain." He looked at the Pride-Mother.

"Will the Auric Pride—"

"I’ll send a warrior escort to the Ashplain’s entrance," Sael said, before he finished.

"Beyond that, the neutrality agreement means Pride warriors can’t enter without triggering the same council vote I’m not ready to force. But the escort will be my senior warriors." She held his gaze. "They’ll wait at the entrance for your return."

"And if we don’t return—"

"Then I call the vote myself, and we enter the eastern territories in force." A short pause.

"Try to come back before it gets to that. A full inter-clan conflict would be complicated for everyone."

"Noted," Owen said.

"One more thing." Sael’s tone shifted.

"The beastfolk shamans have kept the Dragon prayers for a thousand years. What you’re doing: trying to rebuild Drak’thar, trying to bring dragons back beyond the Devourer’s reach. That isn’t only your goal. It’s an old prayer that’s finally being answered." She paused.

"Whatever happens out there, you’re not doing this alone. The beastfolk continent has been waiting for this, even when we didn’t know we were waiting. We’re not going to pretend otherwise."

Owen held her gaze for a moment.

"I’ll be sure to live up to your expectations" he said.

Sael nodded once in acknowledgement.

"Two days," she said. "I’ll have information on the Ashplain by tomorrow evening. Eat something. Sleep if you can." She stood, and paused. "And Owen."

He looked at her.

"Try not to start a war." The corner of her mouth moved. "Though I suspect the war has already made up its mind to begin."

She left. The room felt different without her in it.

Leah watched her mother go, then looked at Owen with an expression he hadn’t seen from her before, something between amusement and resignation, and something else he couldn’t quite place.

"I told you," she said. " That you’d understand when you met her."

"You were right," Owen said.

Uru shifted on Yuki’s shoulder. Outside, Vashari carried on with its morning, unaware that something significant had just been decided over a map and a cup of tea.

Two days. The Ashplain. And beyond it, a story dungeon pulling itself into existence.

With Azmireth already walking toward it in the dark, for reasons Owen intended to get in the way of.