Although this letter was merely a simple invitation and did not mention Noa's grades, the couple had confidence in their daughter's abilities and the creativity involved in the selection process.

Yet, they couldn't seem to feel fully at ease.

The word "ceremony" always managed to dredge up some embarrassing memories of Saint Hiss Academy for them.

Whether it was the previous admission ceremony or the sports day ceremony, under the orchestration of Vice Principal Wilson, that old dragon, their 'model family' always ended up in extremely socially awkward situations in front of everyone.

Perhaps Wilson genuinely admired that one of his academy's students came from such an outstanding family, and to other Dragon Clan households, the Melkevi family was indeed a role model to emulate—

But!

Who knew better than the family themselves what they were really like?

It wasn't that the couple felt undeserving of the title "model family." Rather, they felt that sharing this honor with their sworn nemesis made it all the more intolerable. They would much rather hand the title to someone else.

"So tomorrow we're likely to be put under the spotlight by those dragons again,” Leon said. “And Wilson will be the mastermind behind it.”

After pondering for a moment, he glanced at Roswitha and suggested, “How about we sneak over to the academy tonight and take care of that old dragon…”

As he spoke, Leon made a slicing gesture across his neck with his hand.

Decapitating someone to cure your headaches is, of course, an inadvisable remedy; but if you cut off the person causing your headaches… well, the therapeutic effect might just be unexpectedly effective.

Roswitha knew he was joking, so she shook her head. “Let’s just attend properly this time. The letter says this ceremony is only taking place in Noa’s class, so even if the vice principal shows up, there won’t be too big of a spectacle.”

Her words implicitly conveyed that they had already survived through two significantly more disastrous occasions. Compared to those, this was just child’s play.

Leon scratched his head and exhaled. “Okay then, we’ll set off tomorrow morning?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Leon waved dismissively and left Roswitha’s room.

Sitting alone on the sofa, even someone as composed as Roswitha couldn’t help but feel a twinge of PTSD at the thought of any ceremony held by Saint Hiss Academy.

She could only hope that Vice Principal Wilson would keep a lower profile this time, sparing both her and Leon from becoming the focus of another episode of social humiliation.

As the night deepened and sleepiness took over, Roswitha took a shower, tidied up briefly, and went to bed.

The next morning, the couple made their way to Saint Hiss Academy.

Upon arrival, they headed straight for the teaching building of the Young Dragon Division. The hallways on each floor were bustling with young dragon parents—some frantically searching for their child’s classroom, while others took this chance to chat and network with other clans.

Leon and Roswitha headed straight for Noa’s class.

The homeroom teacher was standing at the doorway, greeting each family.

Given that Saint Hiss was a prestigious academy, its students came from distinguished Dragon Clan families. Thus, while the teachers were committed to imparting knowledge and dutifully fulfilling their roles, they also understood the importance of maintaining humility and graciousness when interacting with parents.

Having just greeted one family and barely catching a breath, the teacher immediately spotted Leon and Roswitha approaching.

Hurriedly, the teacher stepped forward to greet them, extending her hand to shake theirs.

The vice principal had instructed her to treat the "model family" with nine, no—ten times the enthusiasm!

“Welcome! Thank you for coming to the essay ceremony. It must have been a tiring journey.”

“Not at all. You must be much more tired teaching so many children,” Roswitha replied politely.

Embarrassed by the compliment, the teacher chuckled softly behind a hand. “Oh, it’s not exhausting at all—it’s my job, after all. Please go ahead inside. Noa is seated in the middle of the front row.”

Since Noa was much younger than the other dragonlings and naturally shorter, placing her in the front row was a sensible choice to ensure she could see the blackboard clearly.

“Alright.”

Just as the couple was about to step into the classroom, they paused, as if remembering something.

Roswitha pursed her lips and, after a moment’s hesitation, couldn’t resist asking, “Teacher, may I ask, will Vice Principal Wilson be attending today?”

The teacher shook her head. “The vice principal is attending a meeting with the principal at the main academy today, so he will not personally be present at this essay awards ceremony.”

At that, the couple was as relieved as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

With the 'social executioner' old dragon not present, any mention of the "model family" at today's ceremony would likely be glossed over quickly.

Leon and Roswitha no longer had to worry about the intense embarrassment that had overwhelmed them the previous two times.

They entered the classroom together and immediately spotted Noa in the front row.

“Mommy, Daddy, over here!” Noa called out, waving toward them from her seat.

The two approached and took the seats placed on either side of her.

The classroom was spacious enough to accommodate each family comfortably, with the academy having provided a dedicated parent’s chair next to every young dragon’s seat. This thoughtful arrangement ensured that everyone could enjoy the ceremony happily and comfortably as a family.

After settling into his seat, Leon asked, “The letter didn’t mention this competition's results. Are they not being announced yet?”

Noa nodded. “The teacher will announce the top three essays later, and students can decide whether they want to read their work aloud.”

She paused, blinking her bright, lovely eyes as she turned to Leon with a serious expression.

“Daddy.”

Leon raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled by his daughter’s sudden serious tone. “Yes? What is it?”

“If I’m in the top three, I’d like… to read my essay. Is that okay?”

Leon froze for a moment, seemingly caught off guard. Given that students could choose whether to read their essays aloud, he hadn’t expected Noa to opt for a public reading.

Although Noa was highly competitive, she wasn’t someone who particularly enjoyed being in the spotlight or showing off.

But since Noa had always had her own reasoning and considerations behind her decisions, and Leon had consistently respected her choices, he nodded. “No problem. If you get the chance to read it, both Mommy and I will listen attentively.”

“Mm-hmm!”

Afterward, Noa turned to Roswitha for her opinion.

Since her daughter wished to read, Roswitha naturally had no objections. However, both parents noticed a subtle difference in how Noa approached them this time.

In the past, she typically sought her mom’s opinion first before her dad’s.

Was it… just an unintentional switch in the order? Or was there something else behind it?

Well, it was such a trivial detail that it hardly mattered. Although Leon and Roswitha occasionally bickered in front of their daughter, they certainly had no reason to debate over "who gets asked first."

With less than twenty minutes until the ceremony began, parents continued arriving one after another.

As the family of three chatted softly, a familiar name entered their ears from the classroom doorway.

“Lahr, do you feel confident about your essay this time?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“That’s the spirit. I haven’t read your essay yet, but I trust you’ll achieve an excellent result. When the time comes, make sure you read it out loud for all your classmates to hear, got it?”

“Yes, Dad. My teacher even told me my essay about fatherly love was really heartfelt.”

“Hahaha! That’s my son! Well done. I’ll reward you with a grand feast when we get home.”

As they spoke, Lahr and his father strode into the classroom.

Sitting in the very front row, Leon’s family was the first sight to greet the newcomers.

Upon seeing Leon, Lahr’s father froze mid-step.

The instant he locked eyes with that perpetually unruffled individual, a phantom ache flared up in his knees for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.

With pressed lips, Lahr’s father let out a slight huff before tugging his son toward seats near the back of the room.

Watching them pass by, Leon muttered, “That unlucky brat wrote a good essay?”

Noa nodded. “Even though he’s terrible at fighting, he does pretty well in his other subjects.”

“No matter. My daughter will definitely outperform him,” Leon said, ruffling Noa’s hair affectionately.

Noa smiled and waited quietly for the ceremony to begin.