Vol 8. Chapter 32: Invitation from the Blazing Sun Clan

Leon also felt that Rosvisser wasn’t wrong. When this Doomsday Continent once again faced a world-ending crisis, those sisters would surely appear again. But in truth, Leon usually avoided bringing them up.

Even if their bond had been strong—he had once fought at her side, shared life-and-death with her—Leon didn’t want to mention that girl. He didn’t even want to hear her name.

Because he had so rarely felt such deep guilt toward anyone. In the past, in every dangerous situation, it was always Leon Casmod at the very front, cutting off all threats with his own body, keeping the people and things he had to protect safe. But she had been different.

She had shown Leon just how strong, how great a single person could be. Her final request was for Leon to promise her: When you have the strength, you must do the things that lie within your power.

Not for prestige or profit, not for indulging some individualist heroic obsession—but so that in the days to come, when he looked back on his past, he wouldn’t be tormented by regret, thinking of something he could have done but failed to, watching the outcome turn worse than it might ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) have been.

Leon thought, maybe because she had once spoken those same words, that was part of why she ultimately made the choice she did.

But regardless, neither Leon, nor Rosvisser, nor Samael’s countless living beings—none of them would ever forget the contribution and sacrifice of that young Goddess of Time.

Leon looked out at the boundless snow beyond the window, thoughts heavy and tangled.

“I have a feeling, Ross.”

“What is it?”

“We’ll be seeing them again soon.”

...

A few days later, in the sitting room of the sisters’ house, the family gathered around the warm fireplace, opening letters together while basking in the heat.

This had long been a Melkvey family tradition: whenever holidays came, every few days they would sit down and open the letters sent by friends or family. Some would be read aloud to share, others kept as personal secrets.

Leon sat beside the hearth with Muse perched on his lap. The old father held up one letter addressed to Muse, studying it with his youngest daughter in the firelight.

“Oh, it’s from Hefei.”

Leon recognized the sender’s name. The firewood crackled softly as Leon carefully opened the letter.

“Dear Muse, I miss you. Before the break you said we could pick a time to visit Sky City together—I’m really looking forward to it. For the next half month I’ll be busy, but if you suddenly feel like it, write me back to set a date.”

The contents were short. Hefei, like her father, was not good with words.

Leon tucked the letter back into its envelope and handed it to Muse in his arms, saying:

“Keep it safe. When you want to go to Sky City, just tell your dad, and I’ll take you.”

Muse held the envelope with both hands, blinking blankly. Then she raised her little head to look at her father.

“But Dad, you can’t fly. How are you going to take me?”

“Hmph, listen to you. Your dad can’t fly, but my friends can.”

At that very moment, the hawk Bro stationed on the Silver Dragon border sneezed.

“Oh, okay.”

Muse tucked the envelope away, then she and her father looked toward the others.

“I have a letter from Helena,” Noa said.

Just as her words fell, a white feather appeared beside her. Noa blinked in surprise.

“You were just sitting over there with Aurora—how did you blink over here so fast?”

Before Moon could explain, little Aurora wobbled in her chair and lazily muttered:

“You don’t know? Big Sis Helena is Second Sis’s sensitive word right now.”

Noa lowered her eyes, glancing sidelong at Aurora.

“Talking like you’re so grown up, Aurora.”

Aurora gave a sheepish laugh and immediately shut her mouth.

But the little girl hadn’t been wrong. At twelve or thirteen, girls were at the age of heightened sensitivity about relationships. And Moon was an extreme sister-obsessive, determined since childhood that no heaven-sent best friend would ever steal her big sister away.

Now that she was in adolescence, she naturally paid even more attention to such things.

The ahoge tuft on Moon’s head poked toward Noa’s face as she pressed her forehead to her sister’s. Their blue eyes stared into each other’s at point-blank distance.

“What did Helena say in her letter, Sister?”

“She asked me out on a date.”

“Liar! You didn’t even open it yet—how do you know what’s inside?”

“Helena told me.”

Moon.

“You say it like it’s the truth—you can’t even bother to fake conviction in your lies?!”

Noa dropped her cold little mask, slipped an arm around Moon’s waist, pulling her to lean against her, then opened Helena’s letter right in front of her.

“Oh, she says we should visit the Sea Dragons when we have time. And then...”

As she spoke, Noa shook the envelope, and a photograph slid out.

“And here’s a recent picture of Aju—for Dad.”

She handed the photo over.

Leon reached out and took it.

In the photo, Aju stood on grass protected by a magic barrier, chewing contentedly. His coat gleamed, and he looked in excellent shape.

“Oh, after all these years, he doesn’t look aged at all. Normally, at this age, a donkey shouldn’t even be able to walk. But Aju still looks so spirited?” Leon murmured.

Rosvisser had just finished the day’s paperwork outside. Stretching with a lazy yawn, she leaned back in her soft single-seat sofa, long legs crossed, and replied,

“Living long-term on dragon territory will more or less change a creature’s nature. Besides, the Sea Dragons’ grass certainly isn’t ordinary grass. It’s like eating ginseng as your daily meal. Of course he’s long-lived.”

“But too much ginseng gives you nosebleeds...”

“Pfft~ Don’t talk back! You know what I mean.”

Leon grinned, then carefully stored Aju’s photo away.

“Mama, did you get any letters?” Muse asked.

Rosvisser nodded, picking up two envelopes from the table.

“One’s from your aunt, the other from the Academy.”

Hearing that, Aurora’s eyes lit up and she eagerly asked:

“What did Auntie write?”

Their aunt seldom sent letters, but whenever she did, there was always something juicy inside. No wonder Aurora was excited.

Rosvisser only gave a helpless little smile.

“She says she finally escaped the whirlpool of blind dates, thanks to the Wind Dragon King’s help. But word has spread through their region—that the Red Dragon King somehow has a green-haired daughter now...”

The queen pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed.

“Ah, I really don’t know if my sister hasn’t just shot herself in the foot.”

“I’d call it a win-win,” Leon said.

Rosvisser raised a brow. “Win-win? How so?”

“Isha, who loves children, got a daughter; and Valendna, who loves calling someone mama, got herself a mom.”

“Pfft.”

Leon chuckled, lifted Muse in his arms, and squeezed into the single sofa with Rosvisser.

Rosvisser had to tuck her tail away, pretending to complain:

“Why are you crowding me? The sofa’s small enough already.”

“I don’t care.”

Leon set Muse down between them.

Muse, being sensible, immediately hugged her mother and burrowed her face into the soft, fragrant warmth.

That way, Mama couldn’t push her and Dad away.

Rosvisser saw through their little scheme, but only snorted and let them stay where they were.

Seeing that both sisters and Mama had received letters, Moon suddenly felt a bit left out.

She turned to Aurora with a serious face.

“Aurora, look—they all got letters. Only we didn’t.”

Aurora blinked. “Uh... so?”

“So let’s write letters to each other!”

“Second Sis, my bed’s less than ten meters from yours. Do we really need letters—”

“Tomorrow I’ll go buy stationery, then share with you everything I did that day.”

“But we’re together all day, there’s no need—”

“What color stationery should we use?”

“Are you even listening to me, Second Sis?!”

The two little dragon girls laughed and tussled on their rocking chair.

Leon smiled, then looked back to Rosvisser.

“So what does the Academy’s letter say?”

Rosvisser opened the Academy envelope, skimmed it, then handed the paper to Leon.

“An invitation.”

“Invitation?...”

Leon frowned at the letter.

After a moment, he scratched his temple.

“Looks like ever since that joint exam with the Blazing Sun Clan, the Academy’s been interacting more with them.”

Rosvisser nodded.

“Yes. So this time, they’re inviting the Academy and the Dragon Kings to head to the Blazing Sun City in two months to witness a once-in-decades event... a solar eclipse.”