Twenty minutes later, all the little dragonlings and their parents had arrived.

The homeroom teacher stepped onto the dais with a smile, nodding slightly.

"Thank you, dear parents, for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend our class's essay competition award ceremony."

After the opening remarks, the homeroom teacher got straight to the point.

"This time, the essays submitted by the students were unique and diverse, each reflecting their own personal perspectives on the theme of 'Family.' It's really impressive."

"I have written detailed comments on each of your essays, so after the ceremony, you may take them home to review."

"Now, I have three essays here with the highest oveLahrl scores. Next, I'll announce the authors one by one, and whether their essays will be read aloud will depend on their personal choice."

After briefly explaining the flow of the ceremony, the families seated below the stage began whispering among themselves, eager to find out if their child had made it into the top three.

However, even for those who didn't make it into the top three, there was no cause for disappointment. They could still learn and improve by reviewing the teacher's comments on their essays, helping their little dragons hone their writing skills.

"Alright, now let's announce the third place winner of this essay competition in Class 1 of the Junior Dragon Division… Kelly! Congratulations~"

The homeroom teacher led the applause, followed by the eager clapping of the little dragons and their parents.

"Kelly, would you like to read your essay for everyone?" the teacher asked gently.

The young dragonling named Kelly stood up. She wore a simple ponytail and round glasses. Her mother sat beside her, holding her hand as if offering encouragement.

Kelly, on the other hand, nervously clutched the hem of her skirt with her other hand. After a moment of hesitation, she shyly shook her head and said softly, "No, thank you, teacher."

Kelly's mother smiled warmly without any trace of disappointment in her daughter's shyness.

The homeroom teacher also smiled and reassured everyone, "Alright, no problem. You know, Kelly might appear quiet and reserved on the surface, but her essay is filled with love for her mother. Here, Kelly, you can take your essay now."

With small, measured steps, Kelly walked up to the stage and accepted her essay with both hands. "Thank you, teacher."

The homeroom teacher patted her gently on her head.

Clutching her essay close to her chest, Kelly returned to her seat.

"Next, we'll announce the second-place winner of this essay competition. The winner is…"

Still two names left to be called. Leon and his family of three couldn't help but feel nervous and eager.

They stared intently at the teacher's mouth, trying to make out the name from the shape of her lips. But it was clear that the first syllable didn't resemble "Noa."

"Land! Congratulations, Land!"

Another round of applause erupted.

Land, a more outgoing dragonling, stepped onto the stage and gave an expressive reading of his essay.

While applauding below the stage, Leon muttered to himself with growing worry. "Only one spot left now…"

He turned to look at his daughter beside him, and little Noa appeared just as tense, her small fists clenched tightly.

Seeing this, Leon reached over, lightly resting his hand on hers.

Though he said nothing, Noa's clenched fists slowly began to relax.

"And now…" the teacher announced, "the first-place winner of this essay competition is…"

She deliberately prolonged the final syllable, and the room held its breath in anticipation.

Especially Lahr's father, who looked as though he was seconds away from forcibly prying the teacher's mouth open to make her say the name.

"Lahr! Congratulations to Lahr!"

Before the teacher could even ask whether Lahr wanted to read his essay, his father stood up abruptly, eager to boast.

"Thank you, teacher, thank you! Lahr winning first place is all thanks to your dedication. But, of course, given that the theme was about family and kinship, I must say I played quite a role in helping him craft the essay."

Hearing Lahr's father brag so vigorously, Leon's feelings became a jumble of emotions.

So the unconventional topic of "Parental Romance" failed to stand out this time, huh…

Well, it was a bit… unexpected.

But there was no point in dwelling on disappointment right now. That could wait to be dealt with privately later.

For now, Leon turned to comfort his daughter.

"It's alright, Noa. After the ceremony, we'll take a look at the teacher's comments on your essay, figure out what to improve, and make your strengths shine even more."

Roswitha also held her daughter's hand and added, "Maybe Mommy and Daddy didn't perform very well on that date we depicted in your essay. We'll work extra hard next time and aim for a better result."

Although Noa couldn’t completely hide her disappointment, she was a thoughtful child. Knowing her parents had put in great effort to help her with the essay, she nodded and said, "Mommy, Daddy, you both already did so well. Please don't say that."

Roswitha smiled and affectionately patted her daughter's head.

Meanwhile, Lahr's father was still basking in his moment of glory.

The homeroom teacher was compelled to interject. "So, Lahr's father, should we have Lahr read his essay now?"

"Of course, read it! Lahr, come on, read it to everyone," Lahr's father said, brimming with confidence in his son's work. After all, it had clinched first place—what was there not to be confident about?

Lahr obediently nodded, stood up, approached the stage, and began to read his essay.

Lahr: "Title: 'A Father's Silent Love.'"

Lahr's father interjected from his seat, beaming with pride. "See? Just look at the title—so profound, isn't it?"

The parents around him could only nod politely and agree, "Very profound, indeed."

"My father is a duke of the Crimson Flame Dragon Clan. He's often too busy to play with me or help me with my studies," Lahr began reading.

"But I understand. He's busy with work because he loves me, even if he's not good at expressing it."

As Lahr read his essay on stage, his father sat below, thoroughly enjoying every word, chiming in with praise after nearly every sentence.

When the essay reached the crucial part about the theme, "A Father's Silent Love," Lahr continued:

"I remember one time when I got into trouble at school. I came home expecting my dad to scold me, but he didn’t. The next day, as usual, I asked Dad to teach me some basic magic spells. But his expression seemed a little strange."

Upon hearing this, Lahr’s father’s smile froze for a moment, as if realizing where this was headed.

"Dad didn’t refuse and began teaching me how to use a small Dragon Flame spell. But it wasn’t long before he was sweating profusely and could barely stand upright."

"It was only later that I found out my dad had injured his knee during a hunting trip. But at the time, to keep me from worrying and to encourage me to learn magic, he chose to stay silent, to endure."

"This is what I call a father's silent love!"

Hearing this, Leon, who had been feeling dejected earlier, suddenly felt a lot better.

Ah, so "silent love" referred to this kind of silence.

Kid, you need to understand—getting silenced by someone else and choosing to stay silent yourself are two entirely different things.

But, truth be told, Lahr's essay was indeed well-written. The narrative was smooth, the handwriting neat. It made sense that he won first place.

After all, it wouldn't be reasonable to expect a seven- or eight-year-old dragonling to produce master-level writing.

After finishing the essay, Lahr looked at his father with sparkling eyes.

Even though his little essay had humorously exposed his father's knee injury, Lahr’s father didn’t seem to mind.

First place!

His wonderful son had won first place!

Standing up, he began delivering his "acceptance speech." "Lahr, Dad's silent love for you is truly without words! And for you to reciprocate with such a heartfelt essay today—well, even if my other knee got injured, it’s worth it!"

This over-the-top remark was enough to make Leon glance back at him.

But that one glance led to a direct exchange of eye contact with Lahr's father.

Lahr’s father smirked disdainfully at him, making it clear that if this weren’t a classroom, he wouldn’t hesitate to rub his victory right in Leon’s face.

Well, if you’re already starting to play this game, then perhaps I really should—as you wish—injure your other knee to make it fair, Leon thought to himself.

Roswitha tugged at Leon’s sleeve and whispered, "Out of sight, out of mind."

Leon shrugged, pulling his gaze away.

Lahr's father was about to gloat even more when the homeroom teacher suddenly spoke up.

"Oh, by the way, there’s one student's essay that isn’t with me, so it wasn’t included in this ranking."

As soon as this was said, the room’s attention shifted back to the teacher, including Lahr’s father, who immediately paused his bragging.

For Leon, the key phrase "wasn’t included in this ranking" triggered a hunch.

Could it be that his darling daughter’s work had already transcended the realm of mere dragonlings?

Sure enough, the teacher lowered her eyes to look at the first row, nearest to the stage.

"Noa, it’s yours."

Noa's previously disheartened eyes immediately lit up. "M-My essay? Where is it now?"

Before the teacher could answer, the classroom door suddenly swung open.

"Noa K. Melkevi’s essay is right here!"

The elderly vice principal, with his white hair and labored breath, raised two sheets of paper high in his hand. For someone of his age to be this out of breath, it could only mean that the essay in question was exceptional enough to stir him into action.

Leon watched the vice principal, feeling a mix of amusement and resignation.

Ah, the executioner may arrive late, but he never fails to show up.

And in his hands, no less, was the very tool for social annihilation.