"Leon Casmode..."

The reflection of that man was etched in the eyes of the crimson dragon.

Leon was once the nightmare of Constantine, a tormentor who had pushed the proud Crimson Flame Dragon King to the brink.

But ironically, it was this nightmare, Leon, who became Constantine’s sole reason to survive during the darkest days when the Empire was grinding him down.

The relationship between Leon and Constantine now was a bit complicated.

After all, it was indeed Leon that killed Constantine, decapitated him, and hung his head on the borders of the Silver Dragon territory.

In turn, Constantine, upon his first resurrection, had attacked Isa's Red Dragon Sanctuary, causing significant damage for Roswitha's elder sister.

For them, there was no denying the existence of an acrimonious past.

But when you traced everything back to its source, the initiator of this animosity wasn't Leon. Nor was it Constantine. It was humanity’s Empire.

Had the Empire not sent spies to assassinate Leon, none of the subsequent events would have transpired. Constantine wouldn’t have launched an assault on the Silver Dragon Castle, nor would he have ended up being obliterated by General Leon.

That said, expecting the two of them to set aside their differences and reconcile? That was laughably impossible for now.

Although after five years living alongside Roswitha and witnessing a myriad of Dragon Clans off the battlefield, Leon had slightly shifted his perception of the Dragon Clan, when it came to Constantine? Leon's stereotypes about the Dragon Clan stood firm as ever.

Constantine was the epitome of a true Dragon Clan member—savage, merciless, wild, and utterly ruthless in his pursuit of power.

Besides—

"Roswitha, is Noa hurt?" Leon didn’t turn around as he spoke.

Roswitha briefly examined the situation before replying, "Her right hand has been scorched by magical energy, and it’s trembling slightly. She likely endured a severe impact."

Listening as Roswitha listed their daughter's injuries, Leon was furious. His gaze toward Constantine grew colder and more lethal.

He clenched his fists silently, lightning crackling around them.

"This time, I’ve got every reason to tear you limb from limb, you old bastard," Leon growled.

Constantine easily discerned that Leon’s fury was for his injured daughter.

Tch, back when Maureen and the Empire handed over their reports, their intel was really lacking. None of them mentioned that Leon Casmode had such a ridiculous weakness for his daughter!

Though Constantine ordinarily didn’t care a whit whether or not Leon got angry at him, for the sake of his reputation and authority, he decided to offer a minimal explanation.

"Your daughter’s injuries weren’t caused by me."

"That’s bullshit!"

"..."

Deep down, Constantine heaved a sigh. Well, this was tiring.

Should he bother explaining further?

Would doing so make him, a Dragon King, seem a little too naggy?

For once, Constantine found himself caught in an internal debate.

"Uncle… Noa’s injuries really weren’t caused by the Crimson Flame Dragon King," a voice chimed in.

Standing nearby, with her arms held in a tight grip by Crimson Flame Dragon guards, Yuna—the senior sister—spoke up, "She got hurt protecting Anton and me when she used close-combat techniques against a stone golem."

Before Leon could voice his doubts, Constantine turned his gaze toward Yuna.

"Distinguishing right from wrong, huh? Which tribe do you hail from, kid?"

"The Thunder Dragon Clan. My father is Thunder Dragon King Odin." Yuna declared her identity, hoping Constantine wouldn’t lose his temper and harm her by mistake.

"Oh? Odin’s brat, eh? Not bad. Far more reasonable than certain others," Constantine commended with a hint of sarcasm, his eyes shooting a sidelong glance at Leon. The implication was so obvious that it didn’t need to be spoken.

General Leon’s face flushed. Embarrassed but indignant, he immediately took up a combat stance, clearly done with verbal sparring.

Constantine, realizing Leon now meant serious business, began to channel his Primordial Power.

"I see you’ve obtained the power of the Primordial Dragon King," Leon said warily.

He’d witnessed the immense might of this power firsthand through none other than Roswitha—and that had only been her manifestation of it.

But if Constantine had truly absorbed the strength of the Primordial Dragon King Noa, his power likely exceeded even Roswitha’s.

Leon knew better than to underestimate this foe. Constantine today was not the same dragon who had invaded the Silver Dragon Castle back then.

"Ah… What a formidable power it is," Constantine murmured, feeling the surge of energy flow through him, "Crossing millennia and landing squarely into my hands."

"Casmode," Constantine growled, "This time, I can finally exact my revenge."

"Then..." Leon's voice was calm yet sharp. "Try it."

The moment the words fell, both Leon and Constantine vanished simultaneously.

When they reappeared, their wrists collided, beginning a fierce contest of sheer strength.

Leon activated the Nine Hells Gate and infused his physique with lightning magic.

Meanwhile, Constantine’s fused body, enhanced by the new Primordial Power, pushed his strength to unprecedented heights.

From this initial clash of physical might alone, the shockwaves rippled outward, shaking the ancient ruins around them to their foundations.

"You’ve grown stronger too, Casmode," Constantine remarked.

"If I hadn’t, how could I ensure that I send you to hell for good this time?"

"Humph. Arrogant brat."

The first clash ended abruptly as the two darted backward to create some distance.

Roswitha approached Leon while cradling unconscious Noa, whispering, "How is it?"

"I can feel the Primordial Power coursing through him," Leon said grimly. His tone was sober, and his expression heavy. "He succeeded."

"I’ll fight with you," Roswitha offered.

"I can handle it for now. Take care of Noa and keep the kids safe somewhere secure," Leon instructed.

Roswitha hesitated, wanting to argue, but decided to place her faith in Leon’s confidence. "Alright. Be careful."

"Mm," Leon responded with a sharp nod.

At the same moment, Constantine’s comrade, the Iron Wing Dragon King Fael, stepped forward. "I’ll lend you a hand, senior."

Constantine, however, raised a hand to stop him. "This is between Casmode and me. No one else intervenes."

Fael thought for a moment, recalling Constantine’s unyielding personality—his word was law, or else he’d snap.

Fine. A one-on-one battle it would be, then.

"Senior," Fael called.

"What?"

"Will you win?"

"I will."

The two warriors stepped forward again, poised to engage in their second round.

But just before either could attack, the ruins began to quake violently.

Everyone lowered their stance to maintain balance.

Moments later, the stone golem Constantine had shattered earlier began reassembling itself, piece by piece.

Not only that, but the deep rumbling of heavy footsteps echoed from the ruins’ entrance.

Turning toward the sound, they saw dozens of stone golems packed tightly at the doorway. The white crystals embedded in their foreheads glistened ominously, their colossal forms exuding an aura of boundless destruction.

Before Leon and Constantine could react, the first golem charged toward them.

Leon, knowing his lightning magic would have little effect on solid stone, immediately chose to dodge.

Constantine, on the other hand, employed Primordial Magic to shatter the golem again.

This time, however, the golem began to repair itself visibly faster than before, resuming its attack on Constantine.

"Noa’s power must’ve been stolen, causing these stone sentinels to go rogue…" Constantine muttered.

Facing opponents that could perpetually regenerate, Constantine didn’t dare risk exhaustive combat. He backed off to reassess.

Meanwhile, more golems slowly got closer from all directions.

Fael spread his dragon wings and hurried over to Constantine, asking in a panic, "Senior, what do we do now?"

Constantine observed their surroundings for a moment. They had come directly through a melted gap in the icy surface above to reach the ruins below, but they had no knowledge of its internal structure—or the existence of these stone sentinels.

Now, with the golems in a frenzied state, Constantine could eliminate them if he brought out full force. However, he wasn’t entirely confident that Leon wouldn’t pounce on him at that moment to settle their score.

Considering Leon’s usual attitude, it wasn’t likely. But in a battle for life or death, trusting in an enemy’s character wasn’t exactly a wise gamble.

On the other side, Leon had also assessed the situation and arrived at the same conclusion as Constantine.

Separated by a mob of stone golems, their eyes met, and an unspoken understanding seemed to pass between them.

Leon looked away first, turning toward Roswitha.

By now, she had already dealt with the Crimson Flame Dragon guards and was shielding the children under her dragon wings.

"Hey, brat!" Constantine called out.

Leon turned to face him.

"We’re not done here."

With that, Fael immediately shifted into his massive dragon form. Unfurling his iron-colored wings, he launched himself—carrying Constantine—toward the opening in the ruins’ ceiling, the same one they had burned through earlier to descend.

Leon and Roswitha looked on as their figures disappeared into the sky. They could easily give chase, but their priority now lay with escaping the ruins and ensuring the children’s safety.

Leon kept his eyes on Constantine’s fading silhouette and murmured under his breath,

"You’re right, Constantine. We’re not done."

The stone giants closed in. Roswitha quickly transformed into her dragon form, carrying Leon and the children as they soared through the gap scorched open by Constantine's attack.

Bursting out of the ruins and reaching the surface, the biting cold of the extreme northern lands immediately enveloped everyone.

Roswitha opened a protective shield on her back, sheltering everyone from the fierce winds.

In Leon's arms, Noa was awake. Leon's eldest daughter slowly opened her eyes.

“Dad... did you defeat Constantine?” she asked softly.

Leon gave a wry smile and shook his head. "There was a bit of an incident... I called a truce with him."

Pausing for a moment, he added, "But it’s only temporary."

“Hmm... as long as you're not hurt, Dad.”

I mean, come on! I could cry right now. She’d been shaken so badly from the magical energy that she was dizzy and disoriented. Yet, the first thing she cared about upon waking was her father.

Leon fondly rubbed Noa's cheek. “I heard from your senior that this time, you protected everyone again.”

Noa gave a weary smile. "I thought, if it were you, Dad, you'd definitely risk everything to protect your companions too."

Everything she did was in pursuit of being someone like her father.

She didn’t care if other people thought of her as just a naive little kid or the weakest link holding the team back. She only wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps, doing whatever she could within her power.

That was all.

Helena dragged her tired body over and sat down beside Noa.

“Thank you, Noa,” she said.

“It’s nothing, Helena.”

Other senior students also came over to express their thanks.

Even Anton hesitated for a moment before stepping forward.

“Th-thank you, Noa. And also! ...I apologize for the things I said earlier. You weren’t dragging anyone down. You’re amazing.”

“I’m not mad at you, Senior Anton, so you don’t need to apologize,” Noa replied gently.

“Noa, just accept it,” Yuna said with a mischievous grin. “Hearing Anton apologize is rarer than the sun exploding. If you don’t accept it, he probably won’t even be able to sleep at night.”

Noa gave a helpless smile. “Alright, I accept your apology, Senior Anton.”

“Uh... okay...” Anton scratched his head and awkwardly retreated to the side.

“But we still let Constantine steal the power of the Primordial Dragon King.”

Helena sighed. “Who knows what he’ll do with that kind of power now.”

Hearing this, Leon blinked and asked, “Did Constantine absorb all of the Primordial Power?”

Based on what Leon understood about the Primordial Power, he believed it was something that could be “divided.”

The Empire had previously stolen a portion of the Primordial Power to create the Dagger Special Forces and develop Constantine’s fusion rituals.

So during the ruins’ incident, it was still possible that Constantine hadn’t seized all the Primordial Power.

Helena shook her head. “I’m not sure... but at that time, he did absorb a lot of it.”

“Alright, I see. Let’s make sure to share this with your mother when we return.”

“Understood, Uncle Leon.”

Leon decided not to dwell on such a heavy topic any longer. Instead, he started discussing the children’s practical combat test this time.

Once the conversation started, the group became lively. The kids found Leon to be quite likable. Beyond his image as a hero descending from the heavens to save the day, he was a natural conversationalist. He kept the atmosphere engaging and always talked about things the kids found interesting.

While listening to her dad chatting with her classmates, Noa felt a wave of drowsiness overcome her. Exhaustion swept over her like a tide.

Leaning against Leon's chest, she basked in the warmth of her father’s embrace and gradually drifted off to sleep.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, nor could she tell if what she experienced next was reality or a dream. Noa seemed to see a white... dragon.

It crouched before her, its inverted dragon pupils radiating an aura of ancient majesty.