On Saturday, the St. Heath Academy's Family Sports Day proceeded as scheduled.
As a brand-new initiative, the school authorities had poured resources into the event. The stadium was vast and opulent, with facilities so grand they could have hosted several full-scale human-dragon wars. Banners fluttered in the breeze, and the air buzzed with excited chatter from hundreds of dragon families.
Guided by a staff member, the Leon family of four entered the bustling venue.
Leon held Muen in his arms. As they stepped onto the main concourse, his eyes were instantly drawn to the dazzling display of awards and trophies gleaming under the sun. They were first-class, extravagant—if he sold just one, he could buy his master's donkey a whole year's supply of the finest apples and a new cart to boot.
Today, the great Dragon Slayer would claim victory over all these dragons!
—On the athletic field, of course.
"Your assigned seating is right over here," a helpful staff member directed, pointing to a section with an excellent view of the track.
The family followed the direction and found their spots.
In the specially designated spectator stands for young dragons, each family was assigned a professional dragon caretaker. These caretakers would watch over the little ones while their parents and siblings participated in the games, a thoughtful arrangement that allowed everyone to focus.
Once the family was seated, Muen pointed her chubby finger at the track below, her eyes wide with wonder. "It's so biiiig!"
About twenty minutes later, the stands were packed to capacity with a vibrant, roaring crowd of dragons of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The energy was electric.
A hush fell as Vice Principal Wilson approached the central lectern. He adjusted the microphone, cleared his throat with a rumble, and announced, "Let the inaugural Family Parent-Child Sports Day of St. Heath Academy… begin!"
As his voice echoed through the stadium, thunderous applause erupted from the stands.
It must be said that school sports days across the world follow a familiar script. The opening speeches were followed by a grand parade, where each class marched past the lectern in formation, showcasing their unique dragon breeds and class spirit.
After the parade, Vice Principal Wilson gave a brief, traditional address, emphasizing the classic motto: "Friendship first, competition second. I hope all students will strive to do their best and display good sportsmanship."
With those formalities concluded, the real action officially began.
The first event was a bold choice: the family relay race. It was a no-holds-barred start, perfectly fitting for a warrior nation of dragons.
Each family team consisted of three members, including at least one student. For single-parent families, the rules allowed them to invite a direct relative from their clan to complete the trio. This inclusive rule made for more participants and more excitement, and it fully accommodated the few Viviparous Dragon families, ensuring they could compete fairly.
"We've practiced relay passes all week," Leon stated, cracking his knuckles.
"Yeah, but don't get overconfident. I just spotted a few Electric Dragons among the competitors," Rossweise cautioned, her eyes scanning the other teams.
Electric Dragons, like her own Silver Dragon clan, prioritized and maximized their speed attribute. They were notoriously swift and not to be taken lightly.
Leon nodded in understanding. He placed Muen carefully on her seat. "Alright, team. Let's do this."
Their assigned dragon caretaker, a gentle-looking Mossback Dragon named Myra, immediately came over and sat beside Muen, offering her a reassuring smile.
Muen, ever sociable, wasn't afraid of strangers. She sat obediently on her chair and waved her little fists enthusiastically at her family. "Good luck! Do your best!"
"We will!" the trio chorused before heading down to the track.
They found their designated warm-up area, stretching and preparing for the race. After receiving their race numbers and pinning them on, they huddled to decide the running order.
"The relay race covers a total of 3000 meters," Noah explained, all business. "Each person runs 1000 meters. The family with the shortest total time wins."
"Wait, that includes the young dragons running a full 1000 meters?" Leon asked for clarification.
Noah gave a firm nod.
In a human sports event, making a child under ten run a kilometer would be considered borderline abuse. But in a dragon sports event, it was perfectly reasonable. This was, after all, a warrior nation where children's bedtime stories included tales like "How to Slay S-Class Dangerous Species." Their standards were simply different.
"So, how about this order?" Noah proposed. "Mom runs the first leg, I'll take the second, and… D…—you take the anchor leg, okay?" She had been about to say "Dad" instinctively, but the word caught in her throat. Was it shyness? Habit? Regardless, she couldn't quite get it out. But it was progress.
Leon's heart swelled at the almost-word. It was far better than the silent, formed-but-unspoken "D" from before.
The couple had no objections to their daughter's strategic arrangement. "All teams confirming your relay order, please have your members report to their respective starting zones! The relay race will begin shortly!" a referee bellowed from the sidelines.
Since Rossweise was running the first leg, she remained at the starting line. "Alright, you two, go get into position," she said.
"Okay, Mom. Don't be nervous," Noah said, a rare show of encouragement.
Rossweise smiled, shaking the relay baton in her hand. "Don't worry. Mom will definitely get the baton to you first."
Noah's usually stern little face softened into a small, determined smile. "Okay."
After reassuring their eldest, Rossweise glanced up at Leon. The couple's eyes met. No words were needed; they shared an almost imperceptible nod of understanding.
Leon withdrew his gaze and accompanied Noah to the second exchange zone. They walked in silence, father and daughter both focused.
Noah was taking this event with the utmost seriousness. Leon knew that cracking jokes to lighten the mood wouldn't work with her—it might even break her concentration. She was in the zone.
It wasn't until they were standing at the second exchange zone that Leon turned to her. "I'll be waiting for you at the final leg, Noah."
"Okay," she replied, her gaze fixed down the track.
After a pause, Leon looked down at his right hand, then clenched it slightly and extended the fist towards Noah. "Could you give your old man a bit of luck?"
Understanding the gesture, Noah raised her own small fist and gently bumped it against his. Just like on the day of her entrance exam, both big and small fists could feel the strength and resolve passing between them.
After the fist bump, Leon turned and jogged towards the starting point for the final leg.
Once all family members were in position at their respective zones, a brilliant burst of dragon flame—courtesy of a Pyre Dragon official—exploded in the air above the starting line. The race was on!
At the crack of the fiery signal, the first-leg runners shot forward. Among them, a silver figure moved like lightning. Rossweise's form was a blur, her long silver tail streaming behind her like a banner. Her astonishing initial speed drew gasps from the audience and the commentator alike.
"AND THEY'RE OFF!" a vibrant, energetic voice echoed through the stadium. "LOOK AT THAT SILVER BLUR! THAT'S LADY ROSSWEISE OF THE SILVER DRAGON CLAN, FOLKS, SETTING A PACE THAT IS ABSOLUTELY BLISTERING!"
Leon, waiting at the final exchange zone, allowed himself a small smile. But it was quickly wiped away as he saw another dragon keep pace with Rossweise and then begin to gain.
"Someone can actually match Rossweise's speed…" Leon muttered, impressed despite himself.
"Hmph, of course. It's not like your Silver Dragon clan has a monopoly on velocity," a smug voice came from beside him.
Leon glanced over. The speaker was a tall, slender dragon with a streamlined build, standing about 1.8 meters tall. His scales had a faint, shimmering quality.
Leon's eyes dropped to the dragon's tail, where a familiar, jagged lightning-bolt mark was visible. "Electric Dragon clan…" he said flatly. His memories of the war surfaced—the Electric Dragon clan hadn't been powerful fighters, but their hit-and-run tactics and impossible-to-catch speed had been a constant frustration for his troops. Annoying, like persistent gnats.
"LOOK AT THAT! IT'S ZEPHYRA OF THE ELECTRIC DRAGON CLAN PULLING ALONGSIDE ROSSWEISE! OH, AND SHE'S TAKING THE LEAD! BY A BODY LENGTH! INCREDIBLE SPEED ON DISPLAY!" The commentator, a young dragoness with vibrant pink hair styled in adorable twin drills, was named Pineapple, and her commentary was as lively as her appearance.
The slender Electric Dragon beside Leon, who introduced himself as Voltaris, chuckled triumphantly. "See that? Although this is supposed to be a fun event, the results do say something about the natural hierarchy of the clans, don't you think?"
Leon kept his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. "Well, your wife is very fast."
Voltaris preened. "Indeed she is!"
Leon continued, his tone casual. "But mine is better."
Voltaris's smirk faltered. The compliment felt backhanded.
On the track, there were now only a hundred meters left until the first exchange. Zephyra the Electric Dragon maintained her lead. It seemed her family was poised for an easy victory.
However—
Just as she started to feel confident, a flash of silver reappeared in her peripheral vision.
The Silver Dragon had closed the gap!
Rossweise's lips curled into a slight smirk. "It must be tough, running in front like that," she called over the wind. "All that wind resistance."
"W-what?!" Zephyra sputtered.
So the Silver Dragon had been drafting behind her, using her body to block the wind and conserve energy!
The final stretch of a sprint was where Silver Dragons and Electric Dragons were most evenly matched, often decided by a last burst of power. But Zephyra, having borne the brunt of the wind for the entire lap, was now feeling the drain on her stamina.
Rossweise summoned another explosive burst of speed, surging past the stunned Electric Dragon and thrusting the baton into Noah's waiting hand just as she reached the exchange zone.
The baton was passed!
Noah, now on the second leg, found herself running stride-for-stride with Zephyra's son, a young Electric Dragon named Spark.
But while Spark could match her pace, surpassing her was another matter entirely. The two young dragons raced neck-and-neck, neither giving an inch, their determined faces a mirror of each other.
It looked like they would arrive at the next exchange zone simultaneously. However, Noah's youth and smaller size ultimately put her at a disadvantage. Spark, with a slight age and leg-length advantage, managed to pull ahead in the final meters, passing the baton to his father, Voltaris, just before Noah could get hers to Leon.
"I'm sorry, I—" Noah began, her face falling as she handed the baton to Leon.
"Look at Daddy," Leon interrupted, his voice firm but kind. He would not let his daughter shoulder any blame. He took the baton and immediately launched into a full-speed pursuit of the slender Electric Dragon. Noah, guided to the finish area by a staff member, pinched her sleeve, biting her lower lip as she watched Leon's figure recede. "Come on… Dad."
Rossweise was already waiting at the finish line. She put a comforting arm around Noah's shoulders. "You did wonderfully, Noah. All your opponents are older than you. Now, let's cheer for your father together."
"Okay," Noah nodded, her eyes fixed on the track.
"Go, Dad! Dad is the best!" Muen's voice, full of pure belief, rang out from the stands above. The little dragon girl was a natural cheerleader.
On the track, Leon was steadily closing the gap on Voltaris.
"Hmph, why bother struggling?" Voltaris taunted without looking back. "I'm barely trying and I'm this far ahead. You look like you're giving it your all already."
Leon ignored him, silently focusing on his breathing and stride rhythm.
"In five seconds, I'll be a full five seconds ahead of you. Mark my words," Voltaris boasted.
With that, the Electric Dragon kicked into a higher gear, pulling ahead by three full positions. Leon gritted his teeth, digging deep, forcing every ounce of strength from his muscles.
If he wanted to secure the overall championship for his family, he needed to excel in every event. That was the safest path. And besides… Don't you dare underestimate my determination for a seven-day vacation, you bastard!
With a guttural roar, Leon found another reserve of power. His legs churned, and he slowly, painstakingly, began to reel Voltaris back in. Soon, they were running side-by-side, thundering down the home stretch toward the finish line.
"Tsk, you actually caught up," Voltaris sneered, visibly irritated. "Fine. Let's see you keep up with this!" He prepared to accelerate again.
The two rivals battled relentlessly, neither yielding. The audience was on its feet, electrified by the intense duel. No one had expected such a thrilling showdown right at the start of the sports day. And the most astonishing thing was, not a single dragon in the stadium could have imagined that the one rivaling the legendary speed of the Electric Dragon clan was a… human!
However, Leon was pushing his body to its absolute limit. If Voltaris found another gear, it might truly be over—
"Go, Dad!"
This time, the voice wasn't Muen's. Leon's keen hearing picked it out. He glanced toward the finish line and saw Noah jumping up and down, waving her arms, shouting at the top of her lungs, "Dad! Come on!"
She called me Dad!
She called me Dad!
That word he had longed for for so long…
In that moment, every calculated thought about speed, talent, and physical limits shattered in Leon's mind, replaced by the image of his daughter's hopeful face.
He couldn't lose. He absolutely would not lose. A primal roar tore from Leon's throat, the same kind of battle cry that had pulled him from piles of corpses in the war, driven by the belief that he would see home again. Now, that belief had a name: Noah.
With a speed that defied logic, he surged past the Electric Dragon. Voltaris, sensing the shift, panicked. His expression twisted with malice, and he began to edge closer to Leon, encroaching on his lane.
Zap— A faint, dangerous crackle of electricity flickered around Voltaris's shoulder, inching dangerously close to Leon.
Leon, a seasoned practitioner of lightning magic, felt the familiar energy immediately. He knew exactly what the Electric Dragon was planning.
At the finish line, Rossweise's keen eyes caught the subtle movement. She tensed, her whole body coiling like a spring. "He wouldn't dare…" she whispered, her voice low and dangerous.
Leon cast a sidelong glance of pure contempt at Voltaris. "Let's settle all our accounts now," he grunted. "Old scores and new."
Old scores: Your clan's incessant, cowardly harassment of my troops.
New grudges: Trying to cheat and injure me in a children's sports event.
This time, you won't get away!
Seeing Leon hold his line without flinching, Voltaris grew bolder, leaning in further for the shock.
But he had underestimated Leon's tactical mind. Leon precisely timed the moment Voltaris decelerated to lean in. In that split second, Leon unleashed his final, full reserve of power, taking massive strides and completely overtaking the Electric Dragon. The attempted ambush failed, throwing Voltaris off balance.
But Leon wasn't finished.
As he pulled definitively ahead, Leon gave a powerful, deliberate shake of his right foot, kicking up a cloud of dust and track grit from the surface. Because Voltaris had gotten so recklessly close, he ran face-first into the cloud.
"AH! MY EYES!" Voltaris yelped as particles of dirt assaulted his vision. Blinded and unbalanced, he stumbled wildly, his legs tangling, and crashed face-down onto the track in a graceless heap.
"OH, THE DRAMA ON THE TRACK!" Pineapple's commentary soared. "VOLTARIS OF THE ELECTRIC DRAGON CLAN HAS TAKEN A TUMBLE! A SHOCKING DEVELOPMENT! AND THAT LEAVES LEON, THE MYSTERIOUS COMPETITOR WHO'S KEPT HIS TAIL HIDDEN, STORMING AHEAD TO TAKE THE LEAD! IT SEEMS THE RACE IS ALL BUT OVER!"
Amidst the roaring cheers and his daughters' elated shouts, Leon crossed the finish line first. Noah immediately jogged over, her hand raised for a celebratory high-five. Instead, Leon swept her up into a triumphant hug.
Noah let out a small squeak of surprise but didn't struggle. "What did you just call me back there? Hm?" Leon asked, a wide, teasing grin on his face.
Noah's cheeks flushed bright red, and she averted her eyes. "Dad…" she mumbled into his shoulder.
"Ahh, music to my ears! Say it again?" he prodded joyfully.
"Hmph," she retorted, though a small smile played on her lips. "Wait until you win first place in the overall sports festival."
Leon affectionately rubbed his cheek against hers. "You sound just like your mother."
Rossweise walked over to join them, her expression a mix of pride and concern. "Are you okay?" she asked softly. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
Leon raised an eyebrow. "You saw that?"
"Of course I saw it. But from the referee's angle, it might have been obscured. We should report it. We can't let them get away with that." Her tone was icy, her eyes flashing with genuine anger. She was livid.
But in a stunning display of audacity, it was the thief who cried foul first.
"I'm reporting! I'm reporting him! He cheated! That was blatant cheating!"
The shrill voice came from Zephyra, the Electric Dragon from the first leg, who was now supporting her dusty, scowling husband, Voltaris.
Hearing the commotion, a team of referees hurried over to listen to the Electric Dragon's complaint. A long, tense discussion ensued for over ten minutes. Finally, the head referee announced their unanimous decision—
No foul was committed by Leon.
"Why?!" Zephyra shrieked. "My husband is injured because of him! How is that not a foul?!"
"Please calm down, madam," the head referee said sternly. "After review, Leon's actions do not constitute a foul. The footage shows he maintained his line. It was your husband who deviated from his lane and came dangerously close, which is against safety regulations. The fall was a result of his own loss of balance."
"You—! How can you—!"
"Thank you for your hard work, referees," Leon said, walking over with Noah still in his arms. Rossweise fell into step beside him, a picture of cool elegance. "Since we're all here discussing the incident," Leon continued, "perhaps we should also take a look at the shoulder of Mr. Voltaris's jersey. I couldn't help but notice a… peculiar smell of ozone and what looked like a small burn mark earlier."
"A burn? What are you implying, Mr. Leon?" the head referee asked, his interest piqued.
"This gentleman attempted to give me a little 'shock' during the final sprint," Leon explained calmly. "I was so startled, I ran for my life and must have kicked up some dust in my panic. But as you've already ruled, that's not a foul on my part, correct?" His explanation was delivered with such convincing nonchalance that Rossweise had to stifle a laugh beside him.
The head referee's expression turned grim. "I see. Inspect his shoulder, please."
Two assistant referees approached Voltaris. Despite his protests, they examined the shoulder of his racing jersey. There, clear as day, was a small, scorched patch of fabric.
The referees then produced a memory crystal and replayed the final sprint from multiple angles. The enhanced footage clearly showed Voltaris summoning a weak but visible electric current from his shoulder and deliberately moving to brush it against Leon.
"The evidence of foul play is irrefutable," the head referee declared, his voice heavy with disappointment. "According to regulation 7, section B, the Zephyra family is hereby disqualified from all further events in this sports day, and their current results are invalidated." He sighed, looking at the dejected young Spark. "Setting such an example for your child is shameful. I hope you reflect deeply on this."
The young Electric Dragon, Spark, looked utterly crushed, his head hanging low. The adults, however, remained defiant. Zephyra opened her mouth to argue further, but her gaze suddenly shifted past Leon's shoulder, and her defiance instantly withered into fear.
Leon turned to see what had cowed them so completely.
An elderly dragon was approaching. His form was slender and elegant, his scales a pale, shimmering silver-white, and his long white hair was tied back neatly. A prominent, ancient lightning-bolt mark was etched onto his tail.
The elderly dragon walked directly up to Rossweise, offering a slight, respectful bow of his head. "Lady Melkvey. My deepest apologies for the disgraceful behavior of my kin. They have brought shame upon our clan name."
Rossweise acknowledged him with a cool, regal nod. "Chieftain Sol. I trust you will ensure they are… properly disciplined. It is only by fortune that my husband is quick-witted and was not injured. Had he been harmed, a simple apology would not have sufficed."
"Your point is taken, Lady Melkvey. The Zephyra family will answer to me upon our return."
"See that they do."
With a single, stern glance from Chieftain Sol, the defeated and humbled Zephyra family scurried after him, slinking out of the stadium without another word.
Leon leaned closer to Rossweise. "Who was that dignified old gentleman?"
"Chieftain Sol. The recognized leader of all Electric Dragon clans."
"Wow. Getting an apology from the top boss himself? That's top-tier treatment!"
Rossweise chuckled and gave him a playful glare. "Is that all you think about? Your 'achievements'?"
Leon grinned back mischievously, then nudged her playfully. "Anyway, dear wife, you've got quite the intimidating presence."
"Hmph," she sniffed, though a hint of a smile touched her lips. "Any respectable dragon clan leader would offer the same apology. Well, except for those arrogant, thick-skulled louts from the Crimson Flame Clan." As soon as the words left her mouth, she seemed to realize their affectionate tone and promptly elbowed him in the ribs. "And who's your 'dear wife'? Don't get carried away with your terms of endearment."