Leon's brief explanation of the situation's background and details hung in the air, yet Nacho and the others struggled to digest its implications.
"Captain," Rebecca began, her voice laced with disbelief, "are you saying that your status among the dragons and your status among humans is... essentially equivalent now?"
Leon scratched his head awkwardly. "Not exactly the same, but close enough in authority for these purposes."
"And they still sent you as their chief negotiator?" Martin chimed in, incredulous.
"That's primarily because they don't know I'm human," Leon stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"It's a miracle you've managed to keep that hidden for so long," Rebecca muttered, shaking her head.
"Not a miracle," Leon corrected with a flash of his characteristic bravado, "just the result of my remarkable intelligence and unmatched skill in disguise."
"Alright, enough nonsense," Nacho interjected firmly, cutting off the playful exchange. He stood with his arms crossed, his gaze sweeping past Leon to the grand assembly of dragons behind him. From their distinct formations and the vibrant colors of their scales and tails, it was clear at least a dozen different tribes were represented.
Nacho returned his scrutinizing gaze to Leon, the man who now stood as the sole diplomatic bridge between humans and dragons. "So, all those dragons... they answer to you now?"
Leon shook his head immediately. "Not at all. I was chosen by the Council of Dragon Kings to act as their representative for these negotiations. My role is to communicate the collective stance of the dragon tribes on the war and the peace to humanity."
"Oh, I get it," Rebecca muttered, a thoughtful look dawning on her face.
"Good, as long as you understand," Leon said, relieved.
"You're one of a kind!" she exclaimed, earning an exasperated look from Martin.
"Martin," Leon said with a sigh, "keep this woman quiet, will you?"
"Understood, Captain." Martin cast a resigned glance at Rebecca, who, with a playful pout, reluctantly stepped aside.
This entire scene did not go unnoticed by the keen-eyed dragons behind Leon. The Golden Sand Dragon King, Morgan, squinted thoughtfully. "It seems the Silver Dragon Prince is demonstrating his dominance over the humans."
"What do you mean?" another Dragon King asked, leaning in.
"Didn't you see?" Morgan explained, gesturing. "He summoned that human girl and then dismissed her with a single command, forcing them into a one-on-one negotiation on his terms."
"Ah!" the other Dragon King nodded in sudden realization. "This must be the Silver Dragon Prince's sophisticated method of pressuring the humans to offer equal terms!"
"Bravo!" Morgan clapped his hands softly in admiration. "No wonder Odin recommended him as our negotiator—truly a brilliant and insightful choice!"
"I am now confident the Dragon Clan will gain substantial benefits from these negotiations!"
"Indeed. And to think he insisted on negotiating alone without any aides—such courage and self-assurance at such a young age! His future is truly boundless."
As the Dragon Kings continued to shower Leon with praises, Rossweise, standing among them, couldn't help but silently sigh. To her, it wasn't some masterful power play or an attempt to intimidate. The reason the twin-tailed young woman had been escorted away was likely far simpler: her constant, playful complaints were about to make Leon lose his composure entirely!
"Careful!" Isha's voice called out from beside her.
"What is it, sister?" Rossweise looked over, puzzled.
"You need to perform," Isha replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Before Rossweise could ask what she meant, Isha raised her arm, clenched her fist high, and pointed dramatically into the distance, shouting at the top of her lungs, "Leon Cosmodeous, the Light of the Dragon's Future!"
Rossweise's face fell into a deadpan expression. 🥹
"The Light of the Future... Yes, Leon is the Light of the Future!" other dragons nearby took up the cry, their voices rising.
"Leon!"
"Cosmodeous is the Dragon's Future Light!"
[Leon's internal scream: I'm a fuing human!!!!]
The dragons, a species naturally susceptible to passionate displays and emotional influence, began to chant Leon's name in a growing roar, with some of the more fiery-tempered ones unleashing celebratory bursts of dragon fire into the sky.
Amidst the swirling flames and thunderous cheers, Rossweise stood helplessly surrounded. If they only knew that this so-called 'Future Light' was once the very man clad in black armor who had haunted their battlefields, they probably wouldn't be chanting his name with such fervor.
As the dragon fire illuminated the darkening sky, Nacho on the human side grew instantly alert, his hand drifting toward his weapon.
"What's happening?" he asked sharply, his eyes fixed on the fiery display. "Are they about to turn on us?"
Before Leon could offer a calming explanation, a unified chorus of shouts—"Leon, our hero!"—echoed across the cliffside.
Leon gritted his teeth, forcing a neutral expression. In the end, he just sighed in resignation. So, they've finally reached this conclusion...
Nacho took a sharp, incredulous breath. "Just what are you over there? Are you the Prince of the Silver Dragons, or the Prince of all dragons?"
"Get lost! Don't joke about that," Leon retorted, a flicker of genuine annoyance crossing his face. "I have only one wife, Rossweise Melkvey."
"Who asked you about that?" Nacho shot back, rolling his eyes.
Eventually, the clamor died down, and Leon and Nacho turned back to the serious business at hand.
"So, what is the Dragon Clan's formal stance on this war?" Nacho asked, all traces of humor gone.
"If we can secure an immediate ceasefire, what are your conditions?"
Leon's reply was crisp and professional. "They demand the return of the ancestral lands that were lost due to the Empire's conspiracy with the traitorous Dragon Kings to their displaced tribes. In exchange, the dragons will return an equivalent value of resources they've acquired from contested territories."
"I will ensure the Council of Dragon Kings prepares the necessary materials to support these terms. The land-for-resources exchange is fair—neither side will be at a disadvantage."
Nacho nodded slowly. "That seems acceptable. No problem on our end."
"Good, you're quite agreeable." Leon paused, a slight smirk touching his lips. "Don't you need to consult your superiors?"
"...Well then, may I ask, Lord Leon," Nacho said, playing along with the formal tone, "are you, representing the Dragon Clan, satisfied with the terms you have just proposed?"
"Satisfied," Leon confirmed.
"Very well."
Nacho exhaled slightly in relief. "Then, are these negotiations concluded?"
"Wait," Leon said, holding up a hand. "It's not over yet."
"What?" Nacho's relief vanished, replaced by wariness.
Leon's face was calm as he gazed steadily at Nacho.
Nacho sensed there was something more and instinctively tightened his grip on the hilt of his weapon. "Is there another matter you need me to handle on the Empire's side?"
"Oh, no. Nothing like that," Leon said, his expression utterly serious. "I just think we should hold this solemn, negotiated stance for another five minutes or so."
"...Why?"
"Because," Leon explained with deadpan delivery, "it makes us look incredibly cool and imposing during the final moments of negotiations."
Nacho rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they stayed in his head. Is everyone in the Empire's former elite dragon-slaying squad like this? he mused internally. A mad, twin-tailed girl, a clueless mage, and a captain with a terminal flair for drama. Thank goodness I didn't end up on the front lines of the Dragon Corps, or I might have turned out just like them.
"Speaking of which," Leon's tone shifted, becoming grim, "how did you ultimately handle Canter?"
"Just as you suggested," Nacho replied, his own voice lowering. "After our interrogation yielded little, we handed him over to the people for judgment. The verdict was a public parade of shame, followed by execution."
"Good." Leon's voice held no warmth. "Fools like that have no place in this world." He held no sympathy for a ruler who had betrayed his own people for power.
"Did you manage to get any valuable information out of him before the end?"
Nacho frowned and shook his head. "No. It was strange. Even high-level memory magic couldn't penetrate his mind. It seems there was some sort of powerful psychic barrier in place that blocked all our attempts."
"A barrier? Perhaps an insurance policy planted by the Royal Guard or his benefactor?"
"We're not certain. Additionally..." Nacho hesitated, "...we still haven't found any trace of Queen Elizabeth."
"When we captured King Canter on the battlefield, she was nowhere to be found. We thought she might have simply hidden in the chaos, but after exhaustive searches of the capital and known loyalist holdings, we've found nothing."
He paused, the failure clearly weighing on him. "However, we did find a single sealed letter in her private study. I was going to send it to you via a secure courier, but since you're here now, I'll give it to you directly."
Nacho reached into an inner pocket of his tunic and handed Leon a pristine, heavy parchment envelope.
Leon took it, breaking the elaborate wax seal. Inside was a single sheet of paper filled with flowery, almost poetic words that meandered without an apparent focus or clear meaning. It read like the ramblings of a courtier. However, his eyes, sharpened by years of decoding battlefield reports, snapped to the final line, the only piece of concrete information in the entire letter:
"To the Shadow Lord."