The Milf's Dragon

The next day began with silence.

Owen and Varkoth had fallen into a rhythm.

They’d cleared the eastern section of Zone 7. Killed two more prisoners who tried to ambush them during the night. Hunted a Tier 5, five-star predator that had been stalking them since yesterday.

Owen’s credits: 287,000.

Varkoth’s credits were likely higher, he didn’t share his count, and Owen didn’t ask.

[CURRENT RANK: #5 OF 191]

[SURVIVAL TIME: 3 DAYS, 4 HOURS]

[PRISONERS REMAINING: 191]

Nine dead in three days. The attrition rate was brutal.

They stood at the edge of Zone 7, where the green of the jungle met the red of volcanic rocks. To the north, Zone 3. Gorvax’s starting location.

"I’m heading there..." Owen said.

Varkoth looked at the volcanic region. Lava rivers visible even from this distance. Heat shimmering the air.

"To find the Sower, huh?"

"Yeah."

Varkoth was quiet for a moment. "Then Our three days are up."

Owen nodded. "They are."

"You planning to keep the alliance?"

"Depends. Are you?"

Varkoth’s four arms flexed. "You’re useful. Fast. Smart. Good instincts. Together we’ve climbed the ranks faster than apart."

"But?"

"But the Sower is Tier 4, five-stars. If you find him, you don’t need me. And I don’t need or want the complication."

Owen’s CE sense flared. Something in Varkoth’s posture had shifted. Subtle. But present.

"You planning to kill me now?" Owen asked directly.

Varkoth smiled. "Hmm... I’m considering it."

"Because I’m competition?"

"Because you’re worth 287,000 credits. Killing you would put me at the top." Varkoth stepped closer. "Nothing personal. Just strategy."

Owen’s gauntlets hummed. His CE gathered. "I’m not one to die quietly"

"Then it gets messy."

The drones circled closer. Excited. Viewer engagement spiking.

Owen didn’t move. "We had a deal."

"Deals end. That’s how Prison World works." Varkoth’s lower arms extended. Upper arms clenched into fists.

Varkoth laughed. "I’m Tier 4, three-stars. You’re Tier 5, five-stars. The gap is wider than you think."

’He’s right. Raw CE, he’s got 25,000 baseline. I’ve got 5,600. But I have tricks he hasn’t seen yet.’

Owen activated Dragon’s Eye. Studied Varkoth’s stance. His weight distribution. The way his four arms positioned for maximum striking power.

’He’s confident. Overconfident. That’s exploitable.’

Owen spoke calmly. "Come on, man. I don’t want to fight you."

"Hmm, then leave your credits with me"

"I don’t think so buddy."

Varkoth sighed. "Stubborn."

He moved.

Faster than Owen expected. All four arms struck simultaneously from different angles.

Owen used Momentum Shift. 7 CE. Appeared three meters left.

Varkoth’s fists hit empty air. He pivoted immediately. Stone feet cracked the ground.

Owen didn’t counter yet. Just dodged. Testing.

Varkoth attacked again. A barrage. High, low, middle. Relentless.

Owen’s Dragon’s Eye tracked each strike. He dodged. Blocked with scaled forearms. Redirected momentum.

But Varkoth’s reach was too long. Four arms meant four attack vectors. Owen couldn’t avoid everything.

A fist grazed his shoulder. Another caught his ribs.

WHAM! WHAM!

Pain exploded. Owen’s CE dropped by 120. Ultra-Regeneration kicked in. 90 CE to heal.

Owen created distance. Momentum Shift. 7 CE.

Varkoth grinned. "Running already?"

Owen gathered CE into his throat. Dragon’s Breath. 200 CE.

Black flames erupted. Not aimed at Varkoth directly—aimed at the ground between them.

Fire spread. Created a barrier.

Varkoth walked through it. His stone skin resistant. But it slowed him.

Owen used the opening. He channeled 150 CE into his fist. Cosmic Impact Fist.

He struck the moment Varkoth emerged from the flames.

BOOM!

The impact hit Varkoth’s chest. Cracked his stone skin. Sent him sliding backward ten meters.

Varkoth looked down at the crack. Then at Owen.

His grin widened. "Better."

He charged.

Owen didn’t have time to dodge.

Varkoth’s four arms grabbed him. Lifted him. Slammed him into the ground.

CRASH!

Owen’s vision blurred. CE dropped by 200. Ultra-Regeneration burned 150 CE.

Varkoth raised all four fists. Ready to finish it.

Owen activated Dragon’s Tongue.

"{Release}"

Cost: 80 CE.

The word resonated. Varkoth’s grip loosened. Just a fraction. Just a heartbeat.

Owen converted mana to CE. 100,000 mana for 100 CE.

Then he drove both fists into Varkoth’s cracked chest. 300 CE combined.

BOOM!

The crack widened. Spread. Varkoth stumbled backward.

Owen rolled free. Stood. Breathing hard.

His CE: 4,246.

Varkoth’s chest was damaged. Stone skin bleeding—not blood, but mineral dust. But he was still standing. Still dangerous.

"Not bad," Varkoth said. "But not enough."

He raised his arms again.

Then stopped.

His head turned. North.

Owen felt it too.

A presence. Approaching fast.

Massive CE signature. Tier 4, five-stars.

Gorvax.

---

The Sower emerged from the volcanic region.

His robed form was scorched. Blood stained his sleeves. But his scythe burned with energy.

He stopped at the zone boundary. Looked at Owen. Then at Varkoth.

"Interrupt something?" Gorvax’s voice was flat.

Varkoth’s posture shifted. Defensive. "Gorvax."

Gorvax’s featureless covering tilted toward Owen. "You alright?"

"Been better."

Gorvax’s scythe pulsed. "Walk away, Varkoth. Or don’t. Your choice."

Varkoth calculated. Two opponents. One Tier 4, five-stars. One Tier 5, five-stars. Both damaged but functional.

His odds weren’t good.

He lowered his arms. "Alright..." He stepped back. "But this isn’t over, False Fist. Next time we meet, no mercy."

"Looking forward to it."

Varkoth turned. Walked west. Disappeared into the jungle.

The drones followed him briefly, then returned to Owen and Gorvax.

Owen exhaled. His ribs ached.

Gorvax approached. "You’ve been busy."

"So have you." Owen gestured to Gorvax’s injuries. "Volcanic zone treating you well?"

"Tier 4 prisoners. Three of them. Tried to form a hunting pack." Gorvax’s scythe dissolved. "They’re dead now."

[PRISONERS REMAINING: 188]

Owen’s notification updated.

[CURRENT RANK: #4 OF 188]

Gorvax sat on a rock. "Your rank climbed fast."

"Killed when I had to. Hunted when I could." Owen sat beside him. "You?"

"Same. Credits don’t matter for me. No pardon eligibility. But I’m not dying here." Gorvax looked toward the north. Toward the medical bay light-years away. "Seri’s waiting."

Owen nodded. "Then we survive together. Watch each other’s backs."

"Partners."

"Partners."

Across the galaxy, betting pools exploded. The False fist and the Cosmic Criminal. Together.

Ratings skyrocketed.

Owen checked his CE. 4,246. He cycled RCT. Slowly recovering.

"What’s the plan?" Gorvax asked.

"Survive six months. Earn one billion credits. Get my pardon." Owen looked at him. "Help you stay alive and escape from here and get Seri’s freedom."

"Simple plan."

"Best plans usually are."

Gorvax almost smiled.

They sat in silence. Resting. Recovering.

The jungle behind them. The volcanic region ahead.