Vol. 6 Ch. 46

Years ago, Leon and Rosvisser had visited the Far North once before.

That time, their mission had been to find the ruins of the Primordial Dragon King Noah and protect the remnants of its power before Constantine—who had just won his third revival match—could snatch them away.

Leon still vividly remembered that journey; back then, it had taken Leviathan a full seven days of flight to reach their destination.

But this time, they were only heading to the snowy plains at the border of the Far North, not deep into the heart of the region. So, with Rosvisser and Aju accompanying him, it took just over two days to reach their destination.

As the massive silver dragon folded its wings and descended, the thick snow rippled like waves, scattering in all directions.

Aju, caught in the inertia, was flung forward, transforming from a rolling donkey into a tumbling snowball in mere seconds before crashing headfirst into the snow, leaving only his two hind legs kicking outside the white blanket.

Leon rushed over and grabbed Aju’s back legs, pulling him out of the snow pit.

Aju shook his ears and then his head, dislodging the snowflakes clinging to his fur.

"Stay in line," Leon said as he patted off the ice crystals clumped in Aju’s thick fur. "When we meet the dwarves, don’t go mistaking their wine cellars for food storage."

Aju twitched an ear in defiance, exhaling a puff of frosty breath mixed with tiny ice shards.

Rosvisser retracted her dragon wings and shifted back into her human form.

She was wrapped in a thick cloak that Claudia had prepared for her, layered over three luxurious silver dresses. With her naturally delicate and petite frame, the outfit kept her warm without making her look bulky.

Additionally, Claudia had given her a pair of dragon-paw earmuffs, claiming they would protect her ears from frostbite.

Rosvisser, however, remained skeptical. She suspected that this was actually Bone Cougar’s doing—secretly conspiring with Claudia to prepare them.

After all, something so fluffy, whimsical, and childishly cute was utterly incompatible with her dignified and proud aura as a Dragon Queen. It was the kind of thing only hatchlings would want.

"According to the map Claudia gave us, we just need to head that way for a while, and we’ll reach the dwarven territory," Rosvisser said.

"Alright, let’s go," Leon replied, grabbing Aju’s lead and nodding.

Then, pausing for a moment, he glanced at Rosvisser’s dragon-paw earmuffs and grinned.

"Wife, you look really cute in those."

At his words, Rosvisser rolled her eyes internally.

She had known it! That bastard had orchestrated this!

"I’ve told you for nearly ten years now—‘cute’ is an

insult

to dragons."

"But you

are

cute. I can’t think of a better word for it."

"Idiot."

"Wife, so cute~"

"Hmph. Stop pretending like you don’t know. You were definitely the one who told Claudia to prepare this for me, weren’t you?"

"Uh… Y-you figured it out?"

"Childish fool."

The Dragon Queen huffed, crossed her arms, and strode forward.

"Wife, wait for me!"

Leon quickly pulled Aju along and caught up with her.

"Do you not like them?" he asked.

"…No."

"Then why aren’t you taking them off?"

"I…"

Rosvisser faltered mid-step, shot him an irritated glare, and then quickened her pace.

"I-I just think my ears are getting a little cold, that’s all."

"Sigh, wife, your mouth is colder than this ice field."

"Mind your own business!"

Despite being at the border of the Far North, the region wasn’t as harsh as the deeper reaches. The landscape was an endless sea of white, but there were no raging snowstorms or icy mists.

The couple, with Aju in tow, trudged through the thick snow toward dwarven territory.

Roughly thirty minutes later, they reached the outskirts of the dwarven settlement.

The area was marked by crumbling ice huts and the remains of hunted beasts, evidence that a tribe lived here.

Leon and Rosvisser exchanged glances, nodded slightly, and continued forward.

However, after just a few steps, Leon suddenly halted.

He lowered his gaze, his expression turning serious.

"What’s wrong?" Rosvisser asked.

Leon furrowed his brow and whispered, "Something’s moving."

"Huh? What’s—"

Before she could finish, a blade flew straight toward them.

Leon, already on high alert, immediately reached for Rosvisser to pull her back.

But the Silver Dragon Clan was renowned for their reaction speed—Rosvisser had already begun dodging the moment she sensed the weapon slicing through the snow-laden air.

The blade gleamed with a chilling light, severing a few strands of Rosvisser’s hair as it zipped past, then lost momentum and plunged into the snow.

Rosvisser straightened her stance and spoke coldly.

"Drawing blades before even speaking… So much for the letter of invitation we received."

They had sent a formal message ahead of time, as proper etiquette dictated, and the dwarves had responded, inviting them to visit.

But if this was how they "welcomed" guests, then their hospitality was… certainly unique.

Rosvisser opened her palm, summoning dragon fire that flickered ominously in her grasp.

With a sharp breath, she lunged forward, slamming the fire into the ground.

Flames erupted outward in all directions, rapidly melting the snow and exposing the soil beneath. The heat also revealed numerous hidden traps and concealed projectiles buried beneath the surface.

Leon, whose wife had nearly been injured, was naturally furious.

Taking a step forward, he conjured crackling lightning in his right hand, prepared to give the dwarves a

proper

introduction to the wrath of a Dragon King—

But just as he was about to unleash his power, several massive shadows emerged from the distance, running toward them.

"Are you the Silver Dragon King and the Queen?" the leading figure called out.

Leon exchanged a glance with Rosvisser. They nodded subtly at each other before Leon withdrew his lightning magic and waited.

As the figures approached, Leon’s initial tension turned into mild confusion.

These "dwarves"… looked more like small giants.

Even the shortest among them was over two meters tall.

Though they had vaguely human-like features, their limbs were notably thicker, and their facial contours more rugged and primal.

"We sincerely apologize," the leader of the group spoke politely. "Our tribe has been harassed by two unknown outsiders lately, so we’ve kept our perimeter defenses active. We nearly injured you by mistake, and we ask for your forgiveness."

Leon raised an eyebrow. "So… you guys are the dwarves?"

"That’s correct."

Leon blinked.

"You’re telling me that humanoids over two meters tall are

dwarves

?"

"Yes."

"This is the most

meow

-ing ridiculous definition of ‘dwarf’ I’ve ever seen."

"If you hadn’t spoken, I would’ve mistaken you for a dangerous species and attacked you on sight."

The dwarven leader chuckled. "Size means nothing. Just like how ‘wife cakes’ don’t actually contain wives."

"…That’s a terrible analogy," Leon muttered.

Despite their unexpected appearance, the dwarves were surprisingly easy to talk to.

Since they had already explained the misunderstanding regarding the traps, Leon and Rosvisser decided not to press the issue.

Besides, picking a fight with the very people they needed help from would be counterproductive.

"Please, come with us," the dwarf leader said. "We can discuss matters inside the settlement."

"Alright," Leon replied. "Lead the way."

As they followed, Leon leaned toward Rosvisser and murmured, "You know… they seem pretty easygoing. Not as weird as Claudia made them out to be."

Rosvisser’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Let’s observe them for a while. They’re an ancient race, after all—stories about them might not be entirely accurate."

Leon nodded. "Got it."