"I have already summoned Shirley's guards—they will be here any moment!" a gardener from the orchard reported urgently, wiping sweat from his brow. "Your Highness, the Jade Dew Dragonfruit is incredibly difficult to cultivate. In this entire orchard, only one tree has borne fruit, and there are just two of them!"
Leon squinted into the distance, watching the Six-Winged Dragonhawk flying farther away.
"By the time Shirley's team arrives, that creature will be long gone."
He dropped his backpack to the ground, shook off any extra weight, and smirked, cracking his knuckles.
"Noah, stay here. Dad will be right back."
Before Noah could even form a protest, Leon had already dashed off in a blur, chasing after the retreating dragonhawk.
Noah crossed her arms, shaking her head with a faint, knowing smile. "Dad sure is impulsive."
Her first instinct was to obey her father and stay put. But the thought quickly vanished. This was a rare chance to test her skills against a powerful foe, and the Silver Dragon guards were on their way if things turned truly dangerous. More than that, she was burning with curiosity. What would make a Super S-Class beast so bold as to invade their territory and steal the one thing her father needed?
She decided in a heartbeat and took off after him, her enhanced speed allowing her to catch up with ease.
"Dad," she called out, her gaze locked on the massive creature soaring ahead. "Have you ever fought one of these dragonhawks before?"
Leon shook his head without breaking his stride. "A beast of this caliber—evolved to such a degree—has likely been permanently influenced by dragon magic."
"Dragon magic? What do you mean?" Noah asked, genuinely intrigued.
Leon slowed his pace just enough to explain as they ran. "On the continent of Samuel, there are countless intelligent species. Many can use magic and have developed their own cultures. We label the hostile, uncommunicative ones as 'danger beasts,' but in truth, they are independent species with varying levels of intelligence. Some, like the Six-Winged Dragonhawk, can even practice advanced magic."
He continued, "Centuries ago, the Iron-Winged Dragonhawk, an A-Class danger beast, was hunted nearly to extinction for its valuable feathers and beak. The few survivors scattered and their descendants evolved, adapting to different environments. The creature we see now is a product of that evolution. Under the prolonged influence of a region saturated with dragon magic, it transformed from the Iron-Winged into the Six-Winged Dragonhawk."
Noah processed this, her mind making quick connections. "So, does that mean the messenger dragons we use for communication also came from another species originally? Were they transformed by dragon magic into subspecies?"
"That is one way to look at it," Leon replied, impressed by her deduction. "But messenger dragons have been selectively bred and meticulously trained by the Silver Dragons over generations. They are quite different from a wild, evolved beast like this one."
"I see," Noah said with a nod. She glanced up at the giant bird and added with a dry smirk, "In any case, no one would use that giant bird to deliver messages."
Leon couldn't help but chuckle at his daughter's wit. Her humor was a bright spot in the tense chase.
"Still," Noah mused, returning to the mystery, "why would this dragonhawk invade our territory and steal the dragonfruit? It does not make any sense."
Leon shared her confusion completely. "By all rights, even if this thing evolved from an A-Class into a Super S-Class, it should not have the courage to raid Silver Dragon territory. Even the weakest among us is far superior to the strongest danger beast. No amount of evolution would bridge that innate gap."
"Exactly," Noah agreed, a playful glint in her eye. "Even a farming dragon could turn that bird into a 'Hawk Burger Deluxe.'"
Leon nodded grimly. "Something must have driven it to act this recklessly. We will solve that mystery later. Right now, we need to get that dragonfruit back. The gardener said it is the only one, and we cannot let it get away."
"Understood, Dad," Noah replied, her tone turning serious.
Father and daughter picked up their pace, pushing their bodies to run faster. But no matter how swift they were on the ground, they could not match the speed of a creature flying freely through the sky.
Within minutes, the Six-Winged Dragonhawk had widened the gap significantly, its figure growing smaller and smaller in the distant sky.
"Dad," Noah asked, her tone calm but laced with curiosity, "is your wing injury still not healed?"
Leon adjusted his stride slightly, trying to appear unbothered. "Ah... well, you know, these things take time. It will heal eventually."
The truth was a carefully kept family secret. Leon, being human, had never been able to fly. The story of a "lingering wing injury" was the official explanation everyone, including his daughters, had always believed.
Noah, however, had her suspicions. She studied her father's expression closely, noticing the subtle unease behind his confident facade. A mischievous thought crossed her mind.
"I guess that is a shame," she said with a faint, knowing smile. "I was hoping you would take me flying once you were fully healed."
Leon winced inwardly. The weight of a father's inability to fulfill such a simple, longing request from his daughter stung far more than any physical wound ever could.
"Well," Noah added, her grin turning sly, "once I am fully grown, I can always take you flying, Dad."
Leon laughed despite the painful subject. "It is a deal. I will hold you to that."
Their banter lightened the mood, but the reality of the situation was grim. The dragonhawk was now a mere speck on the horizon.
Leon muttered under his breath, a note of genuine dread in his voice, "If that thing gets away, I am doomed."
Noah raised a curious eyebrow. "Why would it be so bad, Dad?"
Leon let out a heavy sigh. "The soup is important for your mom's rest, but the Jade Dew Dragonfruit... it is crucial for keeping her mood stable."
"Mood stable?" Noah asked, intrigued. "Is Mom really that difficult when she is pregnant?"
A full-body shudder ran through Leon at the memories of Rossweise's previous pregnancies. Even a fleeting recollection was enough to make him break into a cold sweat.
"I would prefer if she were just violent," he admitted honestly. "At least violence is straightforward. You can block a sword swing. You can reason with a punch." His voice took on a distant, traumatized quality as he recalled an old joke. "What is scarier: a terrorist, a wild beast, or a girlfriend having a tantrum? The answer is the girlfriend. Because at least with the other two, you can sometimes negotiate."
But Rossweise in full pregnancy mode was an entity beyond that. She did not negotiate; she issued decrees.
For the sake of his peace and sanity over the coming months, Leon knew he had to recover that dragonfruit. Failure was simply not an option. He pushed his legs to move even faster, the determination on his face absolute.