Leon stood on the balcony, staring solemnly at the distant dark clouds.

“It’s going to rain, huh.”

Today, Noa hadn’t come to him for tutoring. According to Roswitha, Noa had physical training today, so their session was postponed to tomorrow.

That was fine; it gave Leon a day of personal time.

In the morning, he had tried to refine the Black Dragon Bolus following the instructions from a medicinal guidebook.

But without exception, every attempt had ended in failure.

Of course, Leon had anticipated the failures and had already analyzed the reasons behind them.

As the book stated, whether it was through high-temperature separation or physical separation, the process was immensely difficult. Even the slightest mistake could lead to total failure.

If the temperature was too high, the nutrients in the herbal residue became entirely deactivated.

If the temperature was too low, it was impossible to extract sufficient herbal residue.

As for physical separation, it required professional equipment. Leon had tried shaking the mixture by hand for half an hour—his hand nearly shaking off—only to see no sign of separation.

The dark clouds approached from the distance, bringing with them an oppressive atmosphere.

Leon shut the window and returned to his bedroom. Sitting at his desk, he furrowed his brow in thought.

“How can I effectively extract the final herbal residue?”

Leon sat cross-legged on his chair, absentmindedly picking up a pen from the desk and biting its tip.

This was his habit when deep in thought. Just as some people liked to pinch their fingers or tap rhythmically, Leon’s focus habit was chewing on pen caps.

Although it wasn’t the most hygienic practice, it was surprisingly effective at enhancing his concentration.

As he chewed, Leon blinked. “Now that I think about it, Noa also likes to chew on her pen cap when solving problems, doesn’t she?”

The thought made him chuckle softly. “As expected of my daughter.”

Having playfully humored himself, Leon dove back into contemplation.

Out of nowhere, a memory of his old master’s words surfaced in his mind.

It was many years ago, when Leon had been practicing a certain magic from a textbook. Despite repeatedly following the method precisely as instructed, he could never seem to master it.

Upon seeing this, his master had said,

“If you’re doing exactly what the book says and it still doesn’t work, then why not try using your own method? A book is dead, as is its author’s mindset—but you’re alive. One path doesn’t work? Look for another one, kid.”

Leon murmured under his breath, repeating his master’s teachings: “One path doesn’t work... Look for another one...”

As he mulled it over, a dazzling flash of light suddenly illuminated the window.

Three or four seconds later, a deafening crash followed.

BOOOOM—

The thunderclap seemed ready to punch a hole through the sky itself.

Leon turned his head slightly, his gaze landing on the streak of lightning tearing through the storm clouds overhead.

“Lightning... thunder... electricity...”

Leon muttered, eyes widening slightly. “Could I... perhaps try using lightning elements, something the book never mentioned?”

If neither high temperatures nor rotation could separate the residue effectively, why not take a different approach and test the potential of lightning elements?

As it happened, Leon’s preferred form of magic was lightning magic.

Wasting no time, Leon picked up a test tube in one hand and placed his other hand around its base. A faint blue light began to shimmer in his palm.

Though his body was frail, casting a small-scale lightning spell like this was well within his abilities.

In fact, what had earned Leon the respect of countless teachers and professors in the past was his meticulous control over lightning elements.

While Lightning Elemental Magic was typically used offensively, it could also accomplish intricate tasks when handled with precise control.

Versatility was, after all, a key trait of any exceptional Dragon Slayer.

Crackle—Crackle—

As the magical energy surged, tiny sparks of electricity flickered around the test tube’s surface.

Inside, the powdered herbs gradually showed signs of reaction.

Leon’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“It’s actually working.”

He prepared to intensify the magical output—only to find his frail body was already at its limit.

A spell designed to torment enemies, when cast at this low intensity, would probably feel more like light tickling than anything else.

Leon sighed inwardly, resigned to the slow and steady approach.

Around forty minutes later, the powder in the test tube had visibly separated into two distinct layers.

Leon poured the mixture into water and waited patiently.

The debris floated to the surface—useless residue.

What sank to the bottom was the precious, long-anticipated raw material for the Black Dragon Bolus!

Leon carefully skimmed off the debris and extracted the sediment from the bottom.

He then set about drying and shaping the substance.

This step required patience, and Leon had plenty to spare.

Half an hour later, a refined pellet of Black Dragon Bolus sat before him, its gleaming surface resembling that of a chocolate truffle.

Leon compared it meticulously against the illustrations in the medicinal guidebook.

No doubt about it—this was the Black Dragon Bolus he needed.

“It’s done,” he murmured.

With the barest of resources and makeshift techniques that could only be called amateurish, he had successfully crafted this small yet vital pill.

Leon held the pill delicately between his thumb and forefinger, examining it closely.

“Dragon Clan medicine isn’t so hard to make after all,” he mused.

As he quietly admired his handiwork, a knock echoed from the door.

Leon quickly tucked the Black Dragon Bolus into a drawer before walking over to answer it.

It was Muen.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed joyfully, raising her arms in a gesture asking to be picked up.

Leon bent down and scooped her up with practiced ease. “Good morning, Muen. What brings you here?”

“Big Sister said she has physical training today, so you’re free. That’s why Muen came to see Daddy.”

Ah, so that’s why his younger daughter had been scarce recently, except at dinnertime.

Turns out, she’d been trying not to interrupt his teaching schedule with Noa.

Who says only the eldest daughter is conscientious?

Wasn’t this little girl every bit her daddy’s sweet angel?

Leon carried Muen into the room, and the two started chatting about some of the fun things she’d been up to lately.

As they talked, Muen sniffed the air. “Daddy, why does your room smell like medicine?”

Leon was speechless.

Seriously? Why are the noses of Dragon Clan members this sharp?

Yesterday, Roswitha had also noticed the lingering medicinal scent. Now Muen had picked up on it too.

“There’s no medicine smell, Muen. You must be imagining things,” Leon said.

But Muen shook her head stubbornly. “No, I’m not wrong. It’s definitely medicine.”

She jumped down from Leon’s lap and followed the trail to his desk. Before he could stop her, she opened a drawer and pulled out the freshly-crafted Black Dragon Bolus.

“What’s this, Daddy? Is it chocolate?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

Seeing her wide, expectant eyes, Leon gently held her tiny hand. “No, no, this isn’t chocolate.”

“Then what is it?”

Leon’s mind raced, scrambling for a reasonable-sounding excuse.

After a brief pause, he answered with all the gravity he could muster, “This is medicine I made for Mommy.”

Muen froze, concern washing over her face. “Medicine for Mommy? Is Mommy sick?”

“No, she’s not sick. She’s just been a bit tired lately from overworking herself. Daddy made this medicine to help her recover. I’ll give it to her tonight.”

Muen nodded solemnly, though she didn’t fully understand. “Then Daddy, you have to take good care of Mommy.”

“I will,” he promised.

The two chatted for a bit longer before Muen scampered off, saying that she knew Daddy was busy preparing for Big Sister’s entrance exams and didn’t want to bother him too much.

Her parting comment hit him right in the heart.

Damn it.

This little dragon girl was melting her father’s soul with every word she spoke.

Warmer than even the Black Gold Chariot!

(Black Gold Chariot: A fictional armor said to “ignite your dreams, Cosmotheus!”)

…

Later that evening, Roswitha, having finished her day’s work, headed to the shared bedroom of Muen and Noa.

Noa was still at the sanctum’s training facility. Even though it was late, Roswitha knew her elder daughter’s relentless temperament—she wouldn’t stop unless she physically couldn’t continue.

Inside the bedroom, Muen sat cross-legged on the carpet, fiddling with her fluffy tail. She looked a bit bored, her toys already discarded to the side.

When she saw her mother, Muen immediately perked up, running over with her tiny legs.

“Mommy!”

Her way of addressing Roswitha changed from "Mother" to "Mom."

Just as Leon said, she preferred this more affectionate term.

She wrapped her arms around Roswitha’s leg, nuzzling close.

“Mommy, are you feeling better now?”

Roswitha blinked in surprise. Crouching down, she asked, “Mommy feels perfectly fine. Why do you ask?”

Muen hesitated before replying, “Daddy said you’ve been overworking yourself and weren’t feeling well. Daddy even made medicine for you to help you get better.”

Roswitha raised an eyebrow. “Medicine for me? What kind of medicine?”

“It’s, um... blackish-brown, shiny, and looks like chocolate.”

“Blackish-brown... shiny... looks like chocolate…”

Roswitha repeated the description, piecing together the clues.

Then, almost incredulously, she muttered, “That man actually managed to concoct something even professional alchemists struggle with, in a setting like this?”

“Mommy?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Roswitha paused, piecing together the situation. After recalling that she had teasingly remarked how Leon’s health seemed in decline a few days prior, she began to suspect the motivation behind his efforts to create the Black Dragon Bolus.

And it gave her ideas. Plenty of them. Her keen mind began plotting her next move. She turned to Muen and said with a conspiratorial gleam:

"Mom is in good health; it's Dad who's not feeling well."

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Dad is a man. A man has to hold up this family, so he won't admit he's sick. That's why we shouldn't expose him. Instead, let's show him more care, okay?"

Muen suddenly understood and nodded her little head. "Muen gets it now! Muen will care for Dad more!"

Roswitha smiled and gently pinched her daughter's chubby cheeks. "Muen is such a good girl. Now Mom is going to check on Dad, so you wait here obediently for your sister to come back, okay?"

"Okay! Mom, make sure to take good care of Dad!"

Roswitha stood up, a faint smile on her face.

"Don't worry, Muen. I will definitely take good care of your dad."