Leon chatted casually with Isha while little Muse, nestled in her aunt's arms, occasionally interjected with a resolute "No~ Thing~!" as if to firmly remind everyone of her vibrant presence.
Halfway through the lavish banquet, the two most anticipated figures, the Tower Master and Odin, finally made their appearance from a private chamber.
After mingling briefly and exchanging polite words with several other Dragon Kings, they eventually steered their course toward Leon's table.
"Looks like they're here for you, brother-in-law," Isha remarked, not even needing to look.
"I wonder what kind of scheme these two old geezers have cooked up this time," Leon muttered under his breath, his tone laced with familiar sarcasm.
Isha chuckled, gently pinching Muse's chubby cheeks. "It's all pomp and ceremony. They're probably just here to blow some smoke up their own tails, make everything official. It's all part of the tedious routine when you've been a Dragon King for decades."
As they spoke, the Tower Master and Odin came to a stop directly in front of Leon.
"Red Dragon Queen, we're delighted you could attend the banquet. I trust the food and ambiance have been to your liking?" the Tower Master asked, his face arranged into a polite, diplomatic smile.
"The spread you've prepared is truly splendid, Tower Master. Thank you for the considerable effort," Isabella replied with equal formality, playing her part flawlessly.
The Tower Master gave a satisfied nod, and then Isha turned to her niece. "Oh, dear. Muse looks a bit sleepy. I'll take her up to the third floor to rest for a while. You gentlemen can chat with my esteemed brother-in-law."
"I'll have a servant arrange a guest room for her immediately," the Tower Master offered.
"No need for the trouble. You all talk business; I'll take care of it myself."
Isha, ever quick-witted, seized the opportunity and made her graceful exit, using a drowsy Muse as the perfect, convenient excuse.
Leon grumbled inwardly, So she gets to duck out of this political theater using my daughter as an excuse. Smooth. What am I supposed to say to get away now? 'Sorry, I need to go examine a steak'?
The Melkvey sisters had never been fond of prolonged, insincere socializing, and Leon, despite his public role, shared their core disdain for such pretentious gatherings.
His master, Tiger, had once told him, You don't need to please everyone in the room. If you're surrounded by a handful of truly good people, that's more than enough.
With that comforting thought, Leon exhaled slowly, setting his personal musings aside. He fixed a neutral smile on his face and addressed the two elders. "Tower Master, Elder Odin, to what do I owe the pleasure? What can I do for you?"
"How's your recovery progressing?" the Tower Master asked, his concern seeming genuine this time.
Leon patted his chest lightly. "Pretty well, all things considered. Everyday activities are no problem at all." It was a modest understatement.
The truth was, after the profound sacrifice of receiving Rossweise's Heartshield Dragon Scale, General Leon's capacity for prolonged, high-stakes combat had been significantly reduced. The sheer scale of magic required for techniques like the full Dragon Extinction form meant that, even with his immense reserves, such battles drained him to a point where he required weeks, if not months, to fully replenish his mana.
Of course, that didn't mean Leon was defenseless during his "magic cooldown" periods. Even without accessing his most powerful, world-shaking techniques, his baseline strength, speed, and skill were nothing for any sane individual to scoff at.
And his recently developed Hyper Sensory Perception was a force multiplier in itself, enough to handle the vast majority of threats on its own.
"How have you been recovering, Elder Odin?" Leon asked, deftly shifting the focus onto the older dragon.
"Some internal injuries, some bruising of the spirit, but I've managed," Odin replied with a faint, respectful smile. "It is... impressive, to say the least, that you, so young, have already unlocked the legendary Hyper Sensory Perception. Do you have any idea how many centuries it took some of us old dragons to even catch a glimpse of that milestone?"
Leon responded with a deliberately humble smile. "You flatter me, Elder. It was nothing more than a fortunate coincidence, a spark ignited under the right pressure."
Odin fell silent, his ancient eyes lost in thought for a long moment, before speaking again, his voice lower. "After this battle, the Silver Dragons' status within the broader dragon community will be solidified like never before. Future collaborations, trade, and resource exchanges with the ancient clans will certainly become more accessible to you."
Leon understood the underlying meaning perfectly. He was being given a glimpse into the behind-the-scenes negotiations.
During the recent multi-nation tournament they had co-hosted, the Silver Dragons had already gained immense prestige and respect among the younger Dragon Kings. Leon, in particular, had become a celebrated figure, earning the admiration of young dragons everywhere for his remarkable and unconventional achievements.
However, despite these accolades and his personal power, Leon was still viewed as a newcomer by the most ancient, entrenched dragon clans. He had yet to truly break into their deeply hierarchical and resource-hoarding inner circle.
In traditional dragon society, the older the clan, the greater its wealth of magical knowledge, ancient artifacts, and primal resources—treasures far beyond what the younger generations could hope to achieve on their own.
Still, through this very public and decisive battle, Leon had not only unlocked a mythical power for himself but had also, inadvertently, secured a brighter, more prosperous future for the entire Silver Dragon clan.
Truth be told, this latter outcome was an unintended bonus. Neither Leon nor Rossweise had planned to leverage the duel specifically for their clan's political benefit. Their motives had been purely personal—growth and understanding.
Sometimes, opportunities arise where you least expect them, Leon mused to himself, acknowledging the strange twists of fate.
"Thank you for the insight, Elder Odin," Leon said, his gratitude sincere.
A dragon of Odin's stature and integrity wouldn't make empty promises. If he said the Silver Dragons were now poised to join the ranks of the respected ancient clans, it would undoubtedly come to pass.
After a bit more polite, surface-level conversation, the Tower Master and Odin took their leave, moving on to other guests.
Leon refrained from lingering on their words, his thoughts already drifting upstairs. He knew Rossweise was still deep in conversation with Charlotte. The last thing he wanted was to draw a crowd of opportunistic sycophants to their location by heading up there himself.
Scanning the bustling banquet hall, his eyes quickly spotted a familiar head of silver hair. Noah and his master were huddled in a relatively quiet corner, both leaning over a plate and seemingly engrossed in a serious investigation. He quickly made his way over.
"Noah, Master, what are you two so intently focused on?"
"Oh, Dad!" Noah looked up, her eyes bright. "Grandpa and I are trying to figure out how this steak was cooked! The seasoning is so unique. It tastes completely different from Mom's cooking, and we want to see if we can replicate it for Muen. You know how she loves trying new flavors."
"Alright, let's see this culinary mystery," Leon said, joining their huddle.
Across the vast hall, sunlight filtered through the high, arched windows, casting a soft, dappled glow on a secluded staircase.
There, a woman wearing simple glasses stood quietly in the shadows. She neither mingled with the other guests nor partook of the lavish food, her poised stillness making her look entirely out of place amidst the revelry.
Leon recognized her. She was Ms. Mavis, Noah's primary teacher from the magic academy and her official mentor in the Young Dragon Division.
"Noah, your teacher is here too?" Leon asked, nodding subtly toward the staircase.
"Yes, I already went and greeted Ms. Mavis earlier when we arrived," Noah replied without looking up from the steak. "She said she was just observing."
Leon nodded, paying the solitary teacher little more mind as he turned his full attention back to the important business of dissecting the steak with his daughter and master.
Meanwhile, the Tower Master and Odin ascended to the quieter, more secluded fourth-floor balcony of the banquet hall. From this vantage point, they could observe the entire gathering below without being easily disturbed.
Odin's gaze, sharp and assessing, fell upon Leon once more, who was now laughing freely with his daughter over their culinary experiment. The sight prompted a low, wry sigh from the ancient Thunder Dragon.
"In all my long memory, warriors who reached such a level of power were always... stern, detached, humorless. Focused only on the next battle, the next conquest."
The Tower Master laughed heartily. "Like a certain Thunder Dragon King I know? Come now, Odin. Don't be so rigid. He is a man of this new era, one of the most formidably talented of his generation, with truly limitless potential. We cannot judge him through the dusty lens of our own past."
After a thoughtful pause, the Tower Master added, "You are a father yourself, are you not? Is it so unusual for a powerful man to enjoy the company of his child?"
"Yuna rarely seeks me out for such... frivolities," Odin admitted, a rare hint of something akin to regret in his voice.
"Do you think that might be the result of something on your end? Your... demeanor, perhaps?" the Tower Master ventured carefully.
"What problem could there possibly be with my demeanor?" Odin retorted, his pride slightly ruffled.
The Tower Master shook his head in mild exasperation. His prolonged time governing neutral Sky City, a crossroads influenced by countless cultures and species, had given him a much broader perspective on relationships, including parenting. Dragons like Odin, who clung to purely traditional, authoritarian approaches, now seemed almost alien to him.
"Let us discuss something more pressing... the matter of the Child of Thunder," the Tower Master said, changing the subject to the real reason for their private audience.
Odin's eyes lingered on Leon below, who was now mimicking a chef's flourish for a giggling Noah. "You said this battle was meant to serve two purposes. First, to demonstrate to the lurking followers of the Ultimate Fear that we are vigilant and prepared to face them. And second, it was a final test to see if Leon truly qualifies as the prophesied 'Child of Thunder.'"
"Exactly. So, having fought him, having felt his power and his spirit... what is your verdict?"
Odin raised his gaze from the hall, contemplating the horizon for a long moment before responding with a question of his own.
"My old friend, do you know why we ultimately failed with the first 'Child of Thunder' plan centuries ago?"
The Tower Master froze, genuinely surprised. "I... I thought you had sworn never to speak of that project again."
"We dragons do not shy away from confronting our failures," Odin replied, his voice heavy with the weight of memory. "We must, if we are to avoid repeating them."
"Back then, the conclave of elders believed, with utter certainty, that I could be molded into the 'Child of Thunder' destined to defeat the Ultimate Fear. But no matter how many resources we poured into the endeavor, no matter how advanced and brutal the training regiments, we could not force the fulfillment of the ancient gods' prophecy. The spark was not there."
"The appearance of the true 'Child of Thunder' is not a matter of cultivation; it is a matter of fate. It is not something we can create or control through will alone."
"So, while you may look at that young man and see the prophesied warrior, you must be exceptionally careful. Avoid meddling too directly in his path. Let fate take its course. Guide, but do not command. Offer, but do not impose. Otherwise..."
Odin turned, and his eyes held a profound and sobering warning.
"You'll end up repeating our gravest mistakes, and in doing so, you might break the very champion you seek to create."
The Tower Master remained silent for a long, heavy moment before nodding slowly, the lesson sinking in. "I understand, Odin. Your wisdom, born of pain, is heard."
His gaze returned to Leon, who was now attempting to balance a piece of broccoli on Noah's nose, both of them laughing. For a brief moment, the image of his own daughter, from a time long past, flashed in his mind, filling him with a strange, potent mix of nostalgia and unease.
"Fate's choice, huh..." the Tower Master murmured to the empty air, the words hanging between them like a promise and a threat. "What an interesting, and terrifying, notion." The game was in motion, and the stakes were higher than anyone downstairs could possibly imagine. This was no longer just about a duel; it was about a prophecy, and the beginning of another story entirely.