As they approached the extreme northern lands, the temperature plummeted, and snowflakes began to drift down from the sky.

Fortunately, the travel group had prepared thickened clothing for all its members, and Saint Hiss Academy made ample arrangements to keep the participating students warm for the practical assessment.

In the evening, Leon stood outside, watching the group of teenagers engaged in a lively snowball fight.

It reminded him of his school days at the Empire Dragon-Slaying Academy. Every winter, the students would instinctively gather on the playground to have a snowball fight.

Snowball fights had their own set of rules. Unlike “team battles,” they leaned more towards “individual combat.”

Leon had mastered the art of snowball fighting back in the day.

He knew rule number one: never become the target of three or more people throwing snowballs at once. Otherwise, in the next moment, over thirty snowballs might come flying your way.

Ordinary students would build snowmen by simply stacking two large snowballs, sticking on a carrot nose and two twig arms, and calling it done.

But at the Dragon-Slaying Academy, the “athletic students” would take it to the next level. Their idea of building a snowman was burying an entire person under snow for realism.

Thinking about it now, Leon realized that it had been years since he last participated in a snowball fight.

After graduating, he joined the Dragon Slayer Army. His life revolved around constant battles year-round, leaving no time for such playful diversions.

In recent years, even after settling at Silver Dragon Castle, snowball fights didn’t become a part of his life again. His daughters were still too young for such “violent” games.

But...

Once his daughters grew older, they could maybe relive his youthful joys together—

“Hey!”

The voice brought Leon back to the present.

He turned his head toward the sound, but before he could locate its source, a snowball smacked him squarely in the face.

Caught off guard, he shook his head and brushed the snow off his face, looking in the direction of the thrower.

It was Roswitha. She was already crouched down, forming a second snowball, her eagerness to throw it written all over her face.

She was wearing a cloak trimmed with fur, gloves, and pink dragon claw-shaped earmuffs, looking brimming with youthful energy—

Yet two days ago, she had accused Leon of being an immature, middle-school boy.

“Here comes the second shot—better catch it!”

The queen mimicked a pitching motion and hurled the snowball with gusto.

This time, Leon had plenty of time to avoid the snowball if he wanted to.

But seeing Roswitha so excited, he decided to only pretend to dodge by stepping slightly to the side.

Not nearly enough to clear the snowball’s path, though.

It hit him squarely in the chest and scattered into flakes and chunks of snow.

Roswitha, thoroughly pleased with herself, laughed, “Two hits, dead on. What do you say to that?”

The first hit? He wasn’t prepared.

The second hit? Well, he simply indulged his wife.

So, what was his response?

It was one sentence:

“Not bad. What can you do about it? Divorce me?”

Leon clapped his hands theatrically.

“Your Majesty’s precision and aim are unmatched, the mightiest dragon in history!” he said with mock reverence.

Amused and smug, Roswitha wagged her tail, clapped her hands, and brushed the snowflakes off her gloves.

Of course, she knew that the second hit wasn’t a testament to her skills but rather to Leon intentionally allowing it.

Still, she felt happy.

Not because of a tiny snowball—but because of someone who always considered her feelings, even in the smallest things, demonstrating care in his actions.

Leon might not be great with words—he often had a sharp tongue—but his actions never disappointed her.

A “fake” husband should live up to his “fake” responsibilities, after all.

Roswitha stepped forward, her boots crunching softly against the snow-covered back of the Leviathan.

The couple walked side by side, strolling slowly through the gently falling snow against the backdrop of teens enthusiastically enjoying their snowball fight.

“We’ll probably reach the extreme northlands by sunrise.”

Roswitha broke the silence. “About six or seven hours left, give or take.”

“Hmm... I wonder if we’ll actually run into Constantine,” Leon said, his tone calm and steady, revealing neither tension nor ease.

Roswitha looked at him and said, “Last time at the Red Dragon Sanctuary, the two of us plus Isa working together barely managed to defeat him. This time, it’s just the two of us…”

“Times have changed. Back then, my magic wasn’t fully recovered, and your control over the Primordial Power was still shaky. That’s why we took such a heavy loss early on.”

Leon replied, “But now, I’ve recovered enough magic to sustain two Dragon Marks, and not only is your mastery over Primordial Power much better, but your Soul Judgment skill has also greatly improved. From where I stand, our chances of success are a lot higher.”

“I’ve thought about all that too, but there’s still one unpredictable factor,” Roswitha countered.

“Last time, Constantine used the Heart-Guarding Dragon Scale to fuse the organs of other Dangerous Beasts. This time, however, he’s using Primordial Power. We can’t be sure how much stronger he’s become. We’ll have to tread carefully.”

Leon nodded in agreement, his expression suddenly serious.

“If it looks bad, we retreat. After all, this is just a scouting mission to confirm whether that mad dragon is actually targeting the Primordial Power.”

“Exactly. With retreat as an option, we hold the upper hand,” Roswitha mused, before sighing. “I just don’t know if our strategy will work. Constantine has got Fael on his side, and that guy probably knows where to find the remaining Primordial Power. We, on the other hand, will have to rely on sheer luck.”

A few days ago, Roswitha had tried contacting Grandmother Veronica to ask about the specific area in the northern regions where she had found Primordial Power.

If they could pinpoint the location, ambushing Constantine would be much simpler—they could even lie in wait.

But Veronica was as elusive as ever, and neither Isa nor Principal Olette knew her whereabouts.

Left with no other options, the couple pinned their hopes on the possibility that the Primordial Power Roswitha had condensed within herself might resonate with the Primordial Power buried under the northern ice, helping them track Constantine’s location.

“Nothing ever goes completely smoothly; challenges are par for the course,” Leon said, trying to console her.

Roswitha gave a small chuckle and gently poked at his chest. “When did it become your job to cheer me up, human boy?”

“Are you calling me a boy?”

“Who else?”

Leon squinted slightly. “Your Majesty, could it be that you have pedophilia...”

“Eat snowball, you idiot!”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Leviathan, away from the chaotic snowball fight, Noa and Helena found themselves invited to an indoor barbecue gathering.

To call it a “banquet” was a bit of a stretch—there were only six people, including the two of them.

Joining them were Yuna, the kind and enthusiastic senior Noa had met before boarding the Leviathan, her companion Antone, and two other seniors.

“These ingredients were snagged from the neighboring tour group by Antone—absolutely delicious. Try some!” Yuna said warmly, handing skewers of meat to Noa and Helena.

The two accepted the food obediently and took small bites.

“Thank you, senior~” they both chirped in unison.

Yuna smiled so brightly that her eyes turned into crescents. “You’re welcome. Eat as much as you want if you like it.”

As everyone chatted and enjoyed the food, Noa’s gaze fell on the bracelet adorning Yuna’s wrist.

The bracelet was milky white, translucent, and gleamed with a soft, lustrous light.

Noa blinked and commented, “Senior Yuna, your bracelet is so pretty!”

Yuna paused, then glanced at her wrist before smiling. “Oh, this? My dad gave it to me recently. He said it’s made from a rare material.”

“Your… dad?” Noa asked curiously.

“Yeah. Thunder Dragon King Odin.”

Both Noa and Helena’s eyes widened in astonishment at the revelation.

“Your dad is a Dragon King?”

To be fair, most students at Saint Hiss Academy came from noble backgrounds, but a Dragon Queen’s child—like Noa—was still a rarity.

They hadn’t expected the approachable and ever-smiling senior to be someone of such significant status.

Yuna chuckled modestly and scratched her head in mild embarrassment.

“Ahaha, have I never mentioned that? I guess it just slipped my mind.”

“Well, your dad’s rarely home, so it makes sense you’d forget to bring it up,” Antone quipped casually.

Yuna shot him a glare. “Hmph, grown-ups have important matters to attend to.”

Antone simply shrugged and went back to grilling the skewers, staying out of it.

Meanwhile, Yuna and Noa resumed their conversation.

“My mom has a pendant necklace that seems to be made from a similar material to your bracelet, senior,” Noa remarked.

“Really? Well, I guess this stuff isn’t as rare as my dad made it out to be, then.”

“Oh~ you’ve been duped!” Antone teased from the sidelines.

Yuna retaliated by tossing a pillow at him, though Antone caught it with ease.

“No, no! My mom’s pendant was a wedding gift from my great-grandmother. The material really is precious,” Noa hurriedly explained.

Yuna nodded thoughtfully before shifting topics. “By the way, have you two formed a team for the assessment yet?”

Noa raised her brow. “A team? The assessment requires a team?”

“Of course. The environment in the far north is harsh, and the exam is difficult. It’ll be hard to score well if it’s just the two of you.”

Seizing the moment, Yuna extended an invitation. “How about…”

“Yuna,” Antone interrupted her softly. “Let me remind you, we’re here to participate in the assessment, not babysit interns.”

Ignoring him, Yuna turned her attention back to Noa and said, “How about you two join our team?”

“This…”

Yuna’s invitation was clearly well-meaning, but Noa hesitated to accept it outright.

Antone’s earlier comment about not being here to babysit made sense. They were here for a rigorous assessment, not for carrying newbies.

Noa wasn’t sure if she and Helena could hold their own or if they’d end up being a burden to the group.

"Come on, Noa, Helena, join us."

The speaker was another senior sister, her tone warm and gentle. "Since you've signed up for this practical assessment, you should take it seriously. If we follow our method, there won't be any mistakes."

Noa scratched at the corner of her mouth, still a bit hesitant.

"Then it's settled!"

Yuna patted Noa lightly on her head. "Once the assessment begins, we'll be a six-person team~"

Really... it's hard to refuse such hospitality from a senior.

The two little dragon girls exchanged a glance, and they could only go along with it.

The barbecue midnight gathering continued.

Everyone was buzzing in conversation, but Noa quietly walked over to the window, gazing out at the pitch-black night sky.

Snow fell thickly, reflected in her sapphire-blue eyes.

Staring at her reflection in the glass, she whispered to herself, encouragingly,

"I can definitely get through this assessment smoothly. Noa, you can do it!"