Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone Chapter 397 - 392: Iron and Thrones

Aiden stood on the ridgeline overlooking the Ironspine foothills, the wind cutting through his coat. Weeks had passed since Eldrenholt fell into line and the river trade flowed under imperial banners.

Supply lines were stable. Food stores were full. Now it was time to stop relying on captured stockpiles and start building what the empire actually needed.

"Crystals and high-grade metals," he said. "Enough to double the sky-palace fleet and feed the Golden Womb properly. We’re not raiding anymore. We’re claiming the source."

Elizabeth adjusted the map on the portable stand. "The mountain clans won’t like it. They’ve lost entire hunting parties to the fracture zones. They call the deep veins cursed."

"Then we show them the curse can be broken," Aiden replied. "Nyra, send scouts. We build at the largest accessible vein cluster. Call it Blackvein Forge."

Construction started within days. Engineers, enhanced troops, and heavy wagons rolled west. The Golden Womb’s stabilization field was deployed in measured pulses rather than blanket coverage.

Teams planted thick anchoring rods at fracture points, each one humming with controlled energy that weakened the crystal beasts over time.

The monsters didn’t die immediately—they grew sluggish and predictable, funneling into kill zones where crossbows and repeating ballistae waited.

The work was slow and methodical. Aiden spent most days on site, not in the command tent.

He walked the new streets of Blackvein as barracks and smelters rose. When a vein face collapsed and trapped two hundred miners and soldiers, he didn’t send others first.

"Gear up," he ordered. Nyra’s shadows melted into the dust ahead of the rescue column. Elizabeth took surface command, directing three drilling rigs and supply teams.

The tunnels were narrow and treacherous. Lanterns flickered against jagged crystal walls that pulsed with faint inner light. Dust hung thick in the air. A low rumble echoed constantly.

"Roof’s shifting twenty meters ahead," Nyra reported from the dark. Her voice came through the link crystal clipped to Aiden’s collar.

"Keep moving," Aiden said. His command aura spread through the column, steadying breathing and sharpening focus.

No one panicked when the first crystal beast lunged from a side passage—a six-legged thing made of razor shards. Spears punched through its joints. Aiden’s sword took its head in one clean arc.

They reached the main collapse. Boulders and broken support beams pinned survivors in a cramped chamber.

Water seeped from cracks overhead. Another beast pack attacked while rescuers dug. The fighting was brutal and close.

Aiden fought at the front, aura flaring to keep his men coordinated even as rocks rained down. One soldier took a shard through the shoulder; Aiden dragged him clear and pressed a field dressing on while shouting orders.

Elizabeth’s drills broke through from above just as the chamber roof gave its final warning groan. They hauled the last survivors out minutes before the section fully caved.

Total losses: seventeen. Not light, but far fewer than they would have been without the anchors and the aura.

That night in Blackvein’s half-finished hall, Aiden met the mountain clan leaders. They were hard men and women, scarred and suspicious, dressed in furs and iron-studded leather.

"You dig too deep," their chief, a one-eyed woman named Kael, said. "The mountains punish greed."

"We’re not leaving," Aiden answered.

"But we’re not asking you to bow for nothing. Fight with us on the next big fracture. Side by side. If we clear it, you get healed wounds, better tools, and first share of the new forges. Refuse, and we do it without you. Your choice."

The clans grumbled but agreed to one joint operation. Three days later they assaulted a major fracture together. Imperial troops held the center with disciplined fire while clan warriors flanked through hidden goat paths.

When a swarm of crystal stalkers erupted, the two groups had no choice but to protect each other’s backs. By the end, the fracture was anchored and quiet.

Kael’s own son walked again after Golden Womb healers treated a wound that would have cost his leg. The clans didn’t kneel, but they started sending workers and warriors to Blackvein.

The real test came without warning.

Mining crews had pushed into the richest vein yet when the ground shook hard enough to knock men off their feet.

An ancient fracture lord woke—an enormous crystal titan, thirty meters tall, its body a shifting mass of jagged spikes and glowing cores.

It roared, and tunnels collapsed behind it. Miners scattered. The sky-palace moved into position overhead, its new weapon arrays charging.

Aiden climbed to the nearest ridge. "All units, focus fire on the core clusters. Nyra, blind its flanks. Elizabeth, keep the forges running—we need those fresh-forged blades now."

The battle spilled across three ridges. The titan moved faster than its size suggested, smashing boulders and sweeping soldiers aside. Sky-palace cannons pounded its shoulders, cracking outer plates.

Newly forged crystal-enhanced spears, still warm from the forges, punched deep when thrown by enhanced troops. Aiden led a strike team up the titan’s back while it was distracted, planting charges on major joints.

Nyra’s shadows darted through its legs, severing connective strands of energy. The titan staggered.

Aiden reached the central core, drove his sword into the brightest cluster, and poured command aura through the blade. The energy feedback nearly knocked him unconscious, but the core cracked.

The titan shattered in a cascade of glowing fragments. When the dust settled, the largest remaining piece was a stable crystal heart—perfect for the sky-palace’s lift systems and main weapons.

Blackvein Forge was now truly theirs. Production lines would soon churn out materials at scale.

Clan warriors integrated into frontier companies. Sky-fleet capacity doubled within the month. The empire had its industrial spine.

Aiden didn’t rest long.

"South," he told his inner circle two weeks later.

"Three kingdoms—Harran, Vessia, and Lorrak—still sitting neutral. They’ve watched us take the river and the mountains. Trade is squeezing them already. Time to make them choose."

He sent formal summons under the sky-palace’s shadow. The kings arrived at the fortified summit grounds near the new southern border, each with their honor guard and private suspicions.

King Taren of Harran wanted protection from Korran Vale raiders. Queen Lira of Vessia wanted better trade terms. King Draven of Lorrak played the slippery middle, secretly hoping to sell out the others for personal gain.

The summit hall was tense from the first hour. Aiden sat at the head table, Elizabeth to his right taking quiet notes, Nyra somewhere in the rafters.

Backroom work happened at night. Elizabeth moved like a ghost between delegations, revealing exactly what each ruler feared most:

Taren’s crippling border debts, Lira’s bastard son hidden in a vulnerable abbey, Draven’s weak western forts. She offered solutions only the empire could deliver.

During open sessions Aiden spoke little. When tempers rose, a light touch of command aura kept blades in their sheaths and voices from becoming shouts. The rivalries did the rest.

Korran Vale tried to break the summit on the third night. Elite raiders disguised as bandits slipped the perimeter and struck the compound. Their target was King Taren—kill him and blame imperial treachery.

The night battle turned personal fast. Aiden, Nyra, and two dozen elite troops hunted the attackers through gardens, banquet halls, and rooftops. Crossbow bolts whistled past marble columns. Nyra dropped from shadows to slit throats.

Aiden cornered the raider captain in the central courtyard and beat the man’s sword aside before slamming him against a fountain. They took six alive, plus documents proving Korran’s direct orders.

The final session the next morning was icy. Aiden laid the captured raiders and papers on the table.

"Korran wants you divided and weak," he said. "I offer something else. Vassal status with real autonomy. Shared protection under the sky-palace.

Trade routes that will make every one of your merchants rich. Refuse, and you stand alone while we grow stronger and Korran picks you off one by one."

Draven tried to flee with his guard. Taren and Lira turned on him immediately—better to gain than to lose everything.

Imperial troops and the new vassal forces neutralized Draven’s men in under an hour. Lorrak was partitioned by sunset. Harran and Vessia accepted terms on the spot.

New borders were drawn before the kings left. Imperial garrisons marched south to key passes and ports. The empire gained depth without a long war. Korran Vale lost more allies and breathing room.

Aiden watched the sky-palace drift overhead as the last delegations departed. Blackvein’s forges would feed the next campaigns.

The southern buffer was secure. The Pure Church heartlands to the north still waited, but the empire was heavier now, better armed, and harder to stop.

He turned back toward the command tent. There was still work to do.