Shut Up, Malevolent Dragon! I Don’t Want to Have Any More Children With You

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.”