Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone-Chapter 262 - 261: Whispers of the Breaking Sky

Aiden left the Archducal palace at mid-morning, alone.

He had given Catherine and Sabrina their instructions over breakfast in the sunlit solar that overlooked the dragon gardens. Both women wore the new colors of the house—deep crimson trimmed with gold—and both carried the quiet, satisfied glow of women who had been thoroughly claimed the night before.

"You will rule in my absence," he told them, voice low but absolute. "All matters of the Draconic House pass through you until I return. The cardinals I sent will answer to you directly. Use them. Break anyone who resists."

Catherine’s blue eyes gleamed with ambition. "We will hold the leash tight, my love."

Sabrina inclined her dark head, a small, dangerous smile playing on her lips. "And if Bane causes trouble?"

Aiden’s golden gaze hardened. "Remind him what happens to men who forget their place."

He kissed each of them—slow, possessive, promising more when he returned—then strode out without another word. Luna and Flora had protested being left behind, but he had silenced them with a look. Today was business. Today required focus.

The imperial capital sprawled beneath a pale winter sky, its spires and domes glittering like frost on black glass. Aiden rode in an unmarked carriage—no Leonidus crest today.

The Office of Rights and Jurisdictions sat in the administrative quarter: a severe gray building of columns and arches, where every title, charter, brand, and business license in the empire was recorded, contested, or denied.

He entered alone, coat swirling, white hair catching the cold light filtering through high windows. Clerks looked up, startled by the presence of someone who moved like he already owned the place. A lesser functionary tried to intercept him.

"Appointment?"

Aiden didn’t slow. "Take me to the Registrar of Guilds and Chartered Companies."

The man scurried ahead, leading him up marble stairs to a heavy door marked with the imperial seal. Inside, a portly noble in powdered wig and embroidered robes sat behind an imposing desk piled with scrolls. Lord Registrar Harlan Voss—his nameplate declared—looked up irritably.

"No audiences without prior scheduling," Voss snapped. "State your business and leave a petition."

Aiden stepped forward and placed a single parchment on the desk. "I require licenses for the establishment of a guild branch within the capital district."

Voss barked a laugh that turned heads in the outer offices. "Guilds? In the capital? Absolutely not. The Emperor’s Edict of 412 is unequivocal: no private guilds, associations, mercenary companies, or independent chartered enterprises may establish headquarters or primary branches within the imperial capital. Only imperial guilds and crown-sanctioned companies are permitted. Return to your province, whoever you are."

Aiden’s expression did not change. He reached inside his coat and produced a small velvet case. Opening it, he set the contents on the desk beside the application: a medal of polished obsidian and gold, bearing the personal sigil of Empress Elara herself—the coiled serpent devouring its own tail.

Voss’s face drained of color.

"That medal grants the bearer extraordinary dispensation," Aiden said quietly. "Including the right to petition directly for exceptions to standing edicts. You will process my application. Today."

Voss’s mouth opened, closed. His powdered wig seemed to wilt. "I... of course, my lord. At once."

Within the hour, the paperwork was complete. Seals were pressed, signatures witnessed, fees waived "by imperial grace." The Arcane Guild—headquartered in the provinces under Aiden’s control—was now the first and only private guild permitted to open a full branch within the capital walls in over four centuries.

Aiden collected the charter, rolled it carefully, and slid it inside his coat.

As he stepped back into the winter sunlight on the wide marble steps of the office, a voice called out—tentative, but unmistakable.

"Aiden."

He froze mid-step.

White hair. Same shade as his own, though longer and tied back. Lean build, traveler’s cloak dusted with road grime. Eyes the color of storm clouds. The face he had seen countless times on loading screens and character selection menus back when this world was nothing but code and pixels.

The original protagonist. The Hero of the Skies. The Main Character.

Kael.

Kael stood ten paces away, hands visible and open—no threat. Just exhaustion and something close to desperation.

Aiden considered walking past. He had plans, timelines, variables to control. This boy was a complication he had hoped to avoid until much later in the story arc.

But Kael called again. "Please. Just hear me out."

Aiden turned slowly, golden eyes unreadable. "You have one minute."

Kael closed the distance, voice low so passersby wouldn’t overhear. "Why are you after me?"

Aiden arched a brow. "After you?"

"I’ve felt it for months. Eyes on me. Agents watching the roads I travel. Whispers in taverns that vanish when I turn around. Someone powerful is hunting me, and every trail leads back to white hair and golden eyes." Kael’s gaze searched Aiden’s face. "It’s you, isn’t it?"

Aiden allowed a faint, cold smile. "If I wanted you dead, boy, you would be. Speak your piece."

Kael exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders. "The sky dungeons... they’re wrong."

Aiden’s expression did not change, but inside, something sharpened.

"They’re restless," Kael continued, voice dropping further. "The mana currents are surging. Monsters are massing in patterns I’ve never seen. I’ve had dreams—visions—of the sky cracking open. Breaks happening all at once. Cities burning.

The capital itself under siege from above." He met Aiden’s gaze steadily. "I told the Slayer Guild masters. Told the imperial scouts. Told every noble who would listen. They called me mad. A fearmonger. Said the containment fields are holding, that the cycle is still years away."

He stepped closer. "But you’ll believe me. I don’t know why—I just know you will. I came here looking for help. For someone who sees what’s coming."

Aiden was silent for a long moment.

He knew exactly what Kael was describing.

The Great Sky Break.

In the original game, it was the mid-to-late game cataclysm—the moment when decades of accumulated mana pressure in the floating dungeons reached critical mass, shattering containment barriers and raining monster hordes across the continent. It forced every faction to unite (or die), launched the hero’s final ascension arc, and opened the endgame zones.

According to the timeline Aiden remembered, the first warning signs weren’t supposed to appear for another three to five in-game years. Which translated to roughly eighteen to thirty months in this world’s accelerated calendar.

But Kael was describing precursor symptoms now.

Far too early.

Aiden’s mind raced through possibilities.

His own interference? The rapid consolidation of sky dungeon titles under his control? The massive mana harvesting the Arcane Guild had begun? Or something else—some butterfly effect from his reincarnation itself?

Or... had the world itself begun to adapt to the presence of a player who already knew the script?

He pushed the thought aside for later analysis.

"You’re not wrong," Aiden said finally. "The Break is coming. Sooner than anyone expects."

Kael’s eyes widened. "You believe me."

"I do." Aiden glanced around—no listeners close enough to overhear. "But understanding the problem and solving it are different things. The empire won’t act until the first dungeon actually fractures. By then it may be too late."

"What do we do?"

We.

Aiden almost smiled at the presumption.

"For now," he said, "you stay alive. Keep your ears open. When the time comes, I’ll call on you."

Kael hesitated. "You’re not going to tell me to leave the capital? To stop investigating?"

"No. I’m telling you to be careful. There are worse things than monsters stirring."

Kael studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. "I’ll be at the Broken Wing Inn, under the name ’Rook.’ If you need me."

He turned and melted into the crowd before Aiden could reply.

Aiden watched him go, golden eyes narrowed.

Interesting.

The original protagonist seeking him out. Offering alliance instead of rivalry.

The timeline accelerating.

He would need to adjust plans.

First priority: Arina.

With the capital branch approved, she would arrive within days. There was a skill in the imperial palace archives—a legendary-tier ability held by one of the Empress’s personal guardians. Perfect for what he had in mind. Arina’s [Skill Mimicry] was still rank S, perfect; copies upgraded after a few weeks and could be permanently retained without a catalyst.

But his skill copy was still B gtadet, But Aiden’s own [Essence Absorption] had no such limits.

Let her copy it. Study it. Master the structure.

Then he would take her—slowly, thoroughly—until she screamed his name and begged for his seed. When he came inside her, the skill would flow into him permanently.

A perfect chain.