Vol 8. Chapter 24: The Lamb Kneels To Nurse, The Dragon Daughter Repays In Kind

Even though he didn’t know why, his precious daughter shelved that brand-new ultimate move the moment it was about to appear.

But even without witnessing it in full, just from the near world-tilting disturbance a moment ago, Leon knew that move would far exceed what he’d expected.

So even if Noa didn’t plan to use it in this bout, Leon couldn’t afford to be careless.

“These two years she’s advanced way too fast. Who knows what other tricks that little lass is hiding besides a finisher.”

Once they’d reset themselves, the second round began quickly.

Noa still took the initiative. Leon chose to defend or evade.

They stayed with body techniques and close combat, not jumping straight into an exchange of spells.

Which gave the two beastkin spectators on the side a chance to breathe.

“That was close... good thing Noa stopped. That pressure just now was terrifying,” Jane exhaled, like a survivor of disaster.

Claire hadn’t fared much better. Even with Noa no longer releasing power, she still clutched Rosvisser’s hand in a death grip, afraid to let go.

Rosvisser stroked the girl’s hair and soothed her softly.

“It’s alright now, Claire. Whatever happens, Auntie will protect you.”

Thirteen years married, Her Majesty’s maternal glow shone especially bright at that moment.

But while she calmed Jane and Claire with words, a faint heaviness rose in Rosvisser’s eyes as she watched Noa. As a mother, her feelings ran finer, her angles of thought broader.

Noa’s blazing growth in two short years was real; but behind that speed—how much sweat and effort far beyond the norm had she paid?

Rosvisser looked at her “daughter’s” back and quietly pinched her sleeve.

“Dad, take this!”

A razor bird-cry split the air, ringing through the forest.

Lightning burst over Noa’s right hand as she drove a flashing strike at Leon again and again.

Leon dodged as he praised her.

“Turning Thousand Birds into a sustained attack—nice.”

Thousand Birds was the father–daughter pair’s signature opener. The form of attack was nothing fancy, but it was direct and brutal. Back then the Saint Dragon King with the strongest defense, had crumpled like paper under Leon’s full-power Thousand Birds.

It did have drawbacks—couldn’t be maintained long; best used as a sudden burst. Even after all these years, Leon hadn’t advanced it much.

Yet thirteen-year-old Noa already handled it with such mastery.

In her hand that flickering thunder, that ceaseless bird of lightning, seemed completely tamed.

“This was the first spell you ever taught me, Dad. Of course I practiced it for real.”

As she spoke, Noa lifted her right hand, sprang up, and brought Thousand Birds down from above.

Leon rocked back and slipped it. When the lightning struck earth, the hard dirt ringed around Noa’s feet shattered and blew out, kicking up a dense cloud of dust.

As the bird-cry faded, Noa swept her arms to knock the smoke away, then puckered her lips and grinned.

“But from the way you said it, sounds like you don’t know my sustained-type Thousand Birds yet, do you, Dad?”

Old father, instant red face.

“What good daughter exposes her old man like that?”

He narrowed his eyes, {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} brows bunching at his temples.

“It’s just continuously feeding lightning element mana, right? What’s hard about that? Your old man can copy it in a minute!”

Noa shook her head and sighed.

“Just like the book said.”

“What book said what?”

“Married middle-aged men have very strong pride.”

“Don’t try to bamboozle your dad with weird books!”

Noa snorted a laugh, dropped into a lunge.

“Come on then, Dad!”

She flickered—and was in Leon’s face again.

As fists and elbows traded, Leon asked:

“So besides Thousand Birds, got any other surprises for your old man?”

“Of course, but...”

“But?”

Noa snapped a knee toward his abdomen; Leon sank an elbow and pressed it down. She used the opening to pin his dropped wrist and slip for the point cards at his belt.

“Shame is...” Her fingertip only skimmed the card’s surface—she didn’t quite get it. A golden chance gone.

They separated again and Noa finished her thought.

“I won’t show something like that. I’ve already mastered it, but if you haven’t yet, that’d be embarrassing.”

“Hmph. Then today your old man will teach you a saying—and let you feel the weight behind it.”

Noa arched a brow. “What saying?”

“Old ginger’s the spiciest. Go on, throw your best—your Dad’s still got plenty at the bottom of the chest!”

“Then I won’t be polite.”

She spread both hands—lightning gathered in the left, fire in the right. Clearly, she wasn’t as practiced with fire yet; the purity wasn’t there. Fire wasn’t her mainline offense.

“Watch closely, Dad!”

The words barely fell before the two mana clusters collided midair in a violent blast. Just like a certain someone “adding oil to the stove.”

Who’d taught whom—who knew.

The thick smoke instantly hid Noa and blocked Leon’s sight. As he flared mana and blew the haze aside, a black silhouette flashed up before him.

Leon reacted in a snap, snatching for Noa’s wrist to throw her over his shoulder.

“Still a bit slow, Noa.”

But when his hand touched “Noa,” it passed straight through.

His pupils tightened—he understood at once.

Lightning Shadow Phantasm.

A projection double shaped from thunder magic: no substance, thus no attack; but with a quirk—so long as you didn’t make direct contact, the phantasm was indistinguishable from the real body.

Leon had used that trick to snare Saint Dragon King—and even to calculate that golden clan traitor, the high priest Dimo. Proof enough of how convincingly the phantasm reproduced the user.

It wasn’t ideal for fighting above your weight. Leon could spot a phantasm quickly, buying time to answer the real body.

“So... from behind?”

He turned.

Sure enough—Noa, using the phantasm to draw attention, coming in from the rear.

“Good plan, Noa. But Dad’s got you.”

He whipped around and grabbed for her shoulder one-handed.

Only...

His hand passed through again.

“A second Lightning Shadow Phantasm?”

Shock showed plain on Leon.

Because the technique could only create one perfectly convincing double. If you produced more than one, the clones’ fidelity nosedived—one glance would tell true from false.

But this second phantasm looked exactly like the first—no difference from the real body at all.

“Ha! Took the bait, Dad!”

Before he recovered from that heartbeat of surprise, Noa burst in from his flank.

Leon saw it go bad and snatched to guard the cards at his belt—

Too late.

In a lightning blur she ripped one fifteen-point card from his waist, then whipped a spinning kick that sent three five-pointers flying.

This time she didn’t lean on a small frame’s advantage or on the ancestor—she stole the “bell” off her dad’s body purely on her own strength.

Leon straightened as the two phantasms beside him unraveled.

He clapped dirt from his hands. Even with a card torn from him, his face wore a deep, satisfied smile.

“When did you learn that? Two perfect Lightning Shadow Phantasms... even I couldn’t spot a flaw in the third.”

Noa twirled the card, stowed it carefully, and said:

“As long as your micro-control over mana is fine enough, you can make a second phantasm just as perfect. What’s wrong, Dad—did I nail it? You can’t do this one either?”

“...”

“Pfft...”

Leon turned toward the suppressed snort.

Rosvisser had a hand over her mouth and had turned her head aside.

“Look at me, Ross, and tell me you weren’t laughing.”

“I wasn’t—pff haha—wasn’t, ahem, wasn’t laughing.”

“Mm.”

Heavens above! The tables have turned! The student bluer than the indigo!

Serious-face girl Claire lifted her head to the queen. “Auntie, your smile’s curving like a crescent.”

Rosvisser quickly covered the little one’s mouth. “Shh—between husband and wife, a few white lies are necessary.”

Leon rolled his eyes. He’d settle accounts with a certain mother dragon at home.

He turned back to Noa with fresh praise.

“Not bad. One card down, one to go—continue?”

Noa set her guard. “Of course.”

“Good. Come.”

But just as they were about to resume, Rosvisser said:

“That’s enough. Fifteen minutes are up. You set twenty minutes for the whole game. Since she didn’t snatch the card in the last five, that’s your win.”

“Looks like I’ll have to be faster next time.”

“Faster? Any faster and your dad’s old arms and legs won’t keep up.”

As she spoke, Rosvisser stepped to Noa, bent down, and carefully brushed the dust from her face and collar. Her lips parted, as if to voice some concern—then she swallowed it back.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to show care. It was the moment and the mood: her daughter had just had a glorious match with the person who astonished her most and had taken half the cards—of course she was happy. Saying too much now might dampen it.

No matter what, the child came first. Care later, in peace and quiet, Rosvisser decided.

“Then per our agreement, you can take the forty from before, plus this fifteen,” Leon said as he walked over.

“Mm. I’ll do even better next time, Dad.”

Leon smiled, ruffled her hair.

“I believe it, Noa. You will.”

“Mmhm. I’m off. I still have to finish the quota the Academy assigned me—I need to hurry.”

Noa turned to go—then Leon called out suddenly.

“Wait, Noa.”

“What is it, Dad?”

Leon pinched his nose, leaned in close, cupped a hand to his mouth, and lowered his voice.

“When we get home... will you teach Dad those two moves from just now?”

Noa paused, then smiled back at him.

“Weren’t you going to teach me a saying? ‘Old ginger’s the spiciest’? And now you want me to teach you instead?”

Old father flushed.

“Then let Dad teach you another proverb.”

“What is it?”

“The lamb kneels to suckle; the dragon girl repays in kind—good daughter, teach your papa!”