Noa's winter vacation had arrived.

Leon had promised her earlier that he would teach her some advanced lightning magic during the break.

To fulfill this promise, Leon had hastened his progress in solving his own mana depletion issue.

Although he hadn't found the true "cause" of his condition even now, over the past month, Leon's strategy of "diverting attention and deceiving" worked successfully, fooling his own body into storing quite a bit of mana within the Dragon Mark.

The mana he had stored was more than enough for both demonstrations and teaching sessions for Noa.

Of course, Leon's ability to accumulate so much mana within a month was in no small part thanks to that dragoness.

Ever since the night of the photograph, their relationship had seemingly eased—

At least it was no longer as fiercely confrontational as before, where disputes often resulted in intense "battles."

Leon suspected that this change was largely related to Roswitha's gradually swelling pregnancy belly and her temporary inability to come up with any "new ideas."

But whatever the reason, being able to store mana was always a good thing.

Because if Roswitha, on a whim, decided to rekindle memories of their past "turning in homework" escapades, Leon was determined to make sure the dragon had no chance of walking away unscathed.

With all this lightning-element mana, if he couldn't paralyze her tail, he'd consider it his loss.

As winter descended, the first snow of the season draped Silver Dragon Castle in a blanket of white.

In the training yard, Muen, wearing pink dragon-claw earmuffs and thick gloves, was pushing a giant snowball that completely mismatched her diminutive stature.

Daddy had told her that freshly fallen snow was the most adhesive and perfect for building snowmen. If she wanted to create a perfectly round snowman, now was the best opportunity.

The little dragon girl had already finished the bottom half of her snowman and was now enthusiastically working on the upper half.

After teaching his younger daughter how to build a snowman, Leon turned his attention to teaching his elder daughter advanced techniques in lightning magic.

"Noa, first tell me about your progress at the Academy," he said.

That would help Leon determine where to start his lessons.

If he taught something too basic, it would be a waste of time since Noa would have already learned it at the Academy.

On the other hand, going too deep might overwhelm Noa, no matter how smart she was, making the learning process less effective.

Noa nodded. "Sure, Daddy. At the Academy, I've already learned some B-tier lightning magic, and next semester they plan to teach A-tier spells. So, I'd like to get a head start here with you."

High emotional intelligence: Get a head start with my dad.

Low emotional intelligence: Get a head start to crush my classmates next semester.

Noa had always been very clear about what she wanted, especially when it came to her studies.

Students like her didn't need constant supervision, and teaching them was a breeze for instructors.

The terms "A-tier" and "B-tier" she referred to indicated the difficulty level of magical spells.

Both Humans and the Dragon Clan used the English alphabet to categorize magic difficulty, but given the vast physiological differences between the two races, the same spell might be classified as A-tier among Humans but drop to B-tier for the Dragon Clan.

Of course, this discrepancy was a minor issue; Leon had done ample preparation to ensure he wouldn't confuse the grading standards, which would be detrimental to Noa's learning.

In fact, for the sake of his beloved daughter, Leon had fully learned and memorized an entire new magic grading system—a process that relied solely on brute memorization.

"A-tier magic, huh... Alright," Leon replied.

The difficulty level of a magical spell often corresponded to its ultimate effectiveness.

For instance, a C-tier spell would almost always deal less damage than an A-tier spell.

But why "often" and "almost always"?

Because exceptions existed.

Magic itself was divided into combat, technique, and support types—a division Noa hadn't yet encountered. Thus, Leon refrained from explaining these redundant details, merely providing a brief overview of the concept.

Noa listened attentively, and once she gained a general understanding of higher-tier magical classification, Leon got straight to the point.

"Alright then, Daddy will teach you the most practical A-tier lightning spell first, which also happens to be my personal favorite."

"Okay!" Noa wagged her tail excitedly, overflowing with energy.

She had long ceased to restrain her emotions around Leon.

Come on now, this was her dad—not some immature adults outside. Why couldn't she act cute and playful with him?

Leon extended his right hand, palm facing upward, fingers slightly bent, and then activated his mana.

Instantly, faint lightning flickered across his hand, enveloping it entirely, as countless arcs of electricity crackled sharply in the air.

The light reflected in Noa's pupils as she gazed at it, her mouth slightly open and her cheeks full of admiration.

As a perennial top student of the Junior Dragon Division's academic leaderboard, Noa could instantly discern the difficulty of this A-tier spell.

Concentrating high-purity lightning magic at a single point and steadily maintaining it on one's hand was entirely different from simply "accumulating energy."

Failure to execute it properly could cause self-harm.

Achieving the kind of seamless proficiency Leon demonstrated required not only extensive practice but also a significant degree of talent.

"This move has two methods of execution," Leon explained while guiding Noa to a training dummy nearby. He formed a hand blade with his electric-infused hand and struck the dummy swiftly. The lightning-covered hand blade effortlessly pierced through the target.

"The first method is like this—static release. Take advantage of the explosive nature of lightning magic to deliver a fatal strike to your enemy."

The deadliest moves often relied on the simplest, most unpretentious forms of attack. That was the essence of lightning magic.

"Wow, and what about the second method?" Noa queried.

"The second method requires the user to possess keen observation skills and advanced physical technique," Leon replied.

"When you distance yourself from the enemy, use that gap for a high-speed charge. Upon reaching attack range, unleash this move against the target. The momentum from the charge will greatly enhance the spell’s piercing power, making the technique far stronger than static release. However, it is also much more dangerous."

Noa tilted her head, contemplating. Then she nodded, "So, Daddy, you mean that sharp observational skills and physical prowess help prevent the risk of being interrupted or ambushed during the high-speed charge, right?"

Leon chuckled and patted Noa’s head. "Noa is very smart. That's exactly right."

"Daddy, does this move have a name?"

"It does, of course," Leon replied.

Once again, he summoned lightning magic, causing electrical arcs to crackle sharply in the air.

"Because the magic energy rubs against the air during its use, creating this sharp sound, like a thousand birds chirping in unison, this technique is called—"

Noa's big, beautiful eyes sparkled. "It's called~~~"

"Thunder Thrust."

The deadliest moves not only employed the simplest, most unpretentious attacking styles but also carried the most straightforward names.

However—

"But Daddy," Noa began, unable to hide a hint of playful criticism, "how does this name have anything to do with your 'thousand birds chirping' description...?"

Leon shrugged. "It doesn’t, really. Daddy was just showing off my metaphorical skills. Want me to teach you some too?"

Noa snorted, amused. "Haha, Daddy, you're so funny!"

Well, it did have a slight connection, after all.

Within the Dragon Clan, such body-enhanced, offensive lightning moves were starkly named "Thunder Thrust"—simple, crude, and utterly unimaginative, much like their archetypal starter spell, "Dragon Flame."

These savage brutes knew only how to fight and kill—completely lacking elegance!

Naming spells? That was a job for us humans, Leon thought.

Humans had named this spell differently after developing it. The magical chirping sound during its execution earned it a more evocative and symbolic name—

*Chidori.*

Of course, Leon could never reveal this name to Noa. Not even as a joke, like "Daddy has a cooler name for it."

Knowing Noa's intelligence, if she ever came across the spell's name in a book and learned it was human-derived, she'd inevitably begin associating Daddy with humanity.

After undergoing Saint Hiss Academy's educational doctrines, her "graduation project" might just turn out to be eliminating her human father.

Leon shook his head, dispelling his far-flung thoughts.

But now that he was onto this topic, he couldn’t avoid considering the delicate balance between his human identity and his relationship with his daughters.

At that moment, the sound of snow crunching underfoot echoed from the entrance to the training yard.

Both father and daughter turned their heads to look.

It was Roswitha.

She stood in the snow, wrapped in a thick silver cloak—slender, graceful, upright. Her exquisite face radiated purity, reminiscent of the first snowfall.