Book 4: Chapter 29 |
Unlike the other Dragon Kings present, Leon showed not even the slightest hint of fear as he faced Odin head-on.
He stood there quietly, neither servile nor overbearing, meeting the Thunder Dragon King’s gaze.
Two overwhelming auras clashed invisibly, pushing and pressing against each other until the atmosphere in the entire hall turned faintly sharp—like drawn blades facing off.
Odin’s figure was reflected in Leon’s dark pupils.
He wore no expression and had no intention of speaking first.
After all, Odin was the one who had come to him—so naturally, Odin should be the one to say something.
They stared at each other for a moment.
Sure enough, Odin spoke first.
“Would you be willing to step aside for a word, Prince Consort of the Silver Dragons?”
“Of course.”
“Please.”
Odin made a “please” gesture, and Leon returned a polite nod.
The two of them left through the hall entrance one after the other.
And with their departure, the suffocating pressure of those two immense auras gradually dissipated.
The Dragon Kings slowly eased out of their tense state, then began speculating about what Odin wanted to say to that Silver Dragon Prince Consort.
“Are those two close?”
“You haven’t heard? Back when Constantine went on a rampage beneath the ruins in the Far North, it was the Silver Dragon Prince Consort who saved Odin’s daughter.”
“That’s at most a debt of gratitude. Doesn’t mean they’re close.”
“Who knows? Maybe they have some private connection.”
……
Isha glanced at her brother-in-law’s retreating back, then turned to Rosvitha.
“That old man isn’t going to give him trouble, is he?”
Rosvitha shook her head.
“He won’t. He’s probably just trying to probe Leon’s views on this matter before the meeting starts.”
Rosvitha was certain Odin wouldn’t trouble Leon for two reasons.
First: the two had no grudge, no conflict, no bad blood—where would “trouble” even come from?
Second: after the previous summit about Constantine, the Twilight Tower Master had privately met with her and Leon and said that Odin was very interested in Leon—and that if Leon didn’t attend, Odin wouldn’t come at all.
So Rosvitha wasn’t worried that Leon stepping out to talk with Odin would put him at any disadvantage.
As for why Odin would be interested in that “dog of a man”…
Rosvitha guessed it was probably the mutual pull between the strong.
Meanwhile, out in the corridor beyond the hall, Leon and Odin stopped by the railing and looked out at Sky City beyond the window.
“Prince Consort of the Silver Dragons, you should know what this Dragon King summit is meant to discuss, correct?”
Leon nodded.
“Yes. I know.”
“Then I’d like to hear your opinion.”
Leon’s thoughts stirred, but he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he asked back,
“Because the human–dragon war involves many matters, I’ll have to ask the Thunder Dragon King to be more specific. Which aspect, exactly, are you asking my opinion on?”
Leon understood the principle of *the more you say, the more you expose.
He couldn’t open his mouth and lay out all his thoughts on this war in one sweep.
That would be begging for old foxes like Odin to spot something off.
So he made Odin ask more specifically—so Leon could answer precisely.
“Then tell me…” Odin said, “…how we should deal with the Dragon Kings who colluded with the human Empire and manipulated the course of the war.”
“I want to know: if you held final authority over the decision, how would you handle them?”
Good—Odin’s question didn’t touch the Empire’s side directly. It focused on the dragons’ “family business.”
If this were the old Leon, his answer would’ve been simple:
Strip all those Dragon Kings of office and punish them harshly.
Hang them up like King Kant, and let the people judge them.
But after learning so much political maneuvering from Rosvitha, Leon understood:
Dragon Kings weren’t the same as Kant.
First, the internal structure of dragon society was not like the Empire.
Dragons ruled themselves in their own territories.
Even though those winged lizards revered “might makes right,” Dragon Kings still didn’t have a formal superior–subordinate hierarchy among themselves.
Meaning: there was no such thing as “removing a Dragon King from office.”
As for imposing severe punishments—or handing them over to the masses for judgment—that was even more impossible.
If Dragon Kings couldn’t formally sentence each other, then dragon citizens certainly didn’t have that authority.
And that was exactly why the Twilight Tower Master had convened this summit.
Not necessarily to force a final “verdict,” but to provide… an account. A statement. A resolution people could accept.
Leon thought for a moment, then replied,
“I’ve considered a lot, but in the end, it comes down to one sentence.”
Odin lifted his white brows, interested.
“Oh? And what is it?”
“Compared to ‘unity,’ ‘stability’ matters more.”
“Stability?”
“Yes,” Leon said, and explained in an unhurried voice.
“Now that the dark underside of the human–dragon war has been exposed—and so many Dragon Kings were involved—this can’t be kept secret.”
“It will spread through dragon society very soon.”
“When it does, the already-fragile internal relationships among the dragon clans will become even more turbulent.”
“Suspicion, denial, hostility—toward each other.”
“It’s safe to say that even tiny past grudges will be magnified without limit after this, and finally lead to fiercer clashes and civil war.”
“Frankly, I’ve never expected the major dragon clans to unite.”
“But even if there’s no cohesion, we absolutely cannot become a heap of loose sand.”
“When a species starts viewing its own kind as enemies, then no matter how strong it is, it will eventually walk toward extinction.”
As he spoke, Leon raised his left hand.
“The Dragon Kings who colluded with the Empire—they have selfish motives, and they want to profit from the war.”
Then he raised his right hand.
“And the ‘judges’ who want to punish them—also want to profit from that punishment.”
“Odin, you know what I’m referring to, don’t you?”
Hearing Leon reach this point, Odin narrowed his eyes slightly and nodded with approval.
“Arlais.”
“Yes. Arlais—the man who once tried to use the Dragon King summit to seize Constantine’s primal power for himself.”
At the last summit about Constantine, Arlais had been the first to propose carving up Old Constantine’s primal power.
Leon had rejected the suggestion, and with Odin’s support, Old Constantine managed to keep his foundation intact.
Leon’s reasoning back then was simple:
Constantine was more trustworthy than the crafty, slick Arlais.
And the outcome proved it—Old Constantine might have been insane, but when Leon needed him to act, he never hesitated.
So with that past experience, Leon fully believed that in this summit, Arlais would again try to stir trouble.
“If Arlais once again tries to use the punishment of traitorous Dragon Kings to profit for himself, that will undoubtedly provoke a rebellious backlash among those Dragon Kings.”
“They can take punishment.”
“But the one punishing them must never be Arlais.”
“Because everyone knows exactly what Arlais is.”
“If we truly let Arlais run wild, then like I said earlier, the dragon clans—already not united, already not sturdy—will become even more hateful toward one another.”
“And that ‘stability’ will be broken.”
“At that point, the dragon clans will be facing a far more thorny problem than ‘how to deal with Dragon Kings who colluded with the enemy.’”
Leon exhaled slowly and gave his arms a light shake.
“That’s what I wanted to say.”
After hearing him out, Odin looked contemplative.
A moment later, he answered in a low voice,
“Your thinking is excellent, Leon. You considered the psychology of the colluding Dragon Kings, and you accurately dissected Arlais’s selfish desires.”
“And there’s one sentence of yours I especially agree with.”
“‘They can take punishment—but the one punishing them must never be Arlais.’”
“To say that proves you are neither a detached spectator standing outside the matter, nor a softhearted peacemaker who tries to smooth everything over.”
After a pause, Odin summed up his judgment of Leon.
“You will have a very remarkable life, Leon.”
“Thank you for the compliment, sir,” Leon said.
Then Leon asked, “And you, sir—what is your view?”
“Honestly…” Odin said slowly, “…I don’t care about whether they colluded or not, or about the conspiracy behind the war.”
“My Thunder Dragon clan never initiates external wars. The Empire and those colluding Dragon Kings also wouldn’t dare scheme against me.”
“So punishing those Dragon Kings gives me neither benefit nor loss.”
“You could even say: if I hadn’t known the Tower Master invited you as well, I wouldn’t have attended this meeting at all.”
“I came here to see what sort of decision a promising younger generation like you would make.”
There was something about Odin that Leon didn’t know:
Like Rosvitha’s grandmother Veronica, Odin valued the younger generation.
Veronica had once told Headmaster Olette of Saint Heath Academy that she liked the human way of progressing—leaving one’s achievements to be inherited by the next generation, growing slowly and clumsily, step by step.
And this was the second time Odin had shown the attitude of:
If Leon doesn’t come, then I won’t either.
It was clear Odin truly thought highly of Leon—far beyond the matter of Leon saving his daughter.
Leon couldn’t help thinking: If this old Thunder Dragon King ever finds out I’m human, what kind of face will he make?
“Sir, I…” Leon said, “…I don’t quite understand why you pay such attention to me. If it’s because I once saved your daughter, that was simply a small effort. Anyone else would’ve done the same.”
“Ah—of course it isn’t only because of Yuna,” Odin said. “There’s another reason.”
“Your innate magic element is the same as mine—lightning.”
“In dragon society, only a tiny number are born with the lightning element, and someone as strong as you is even rarer still.”
Uh… sir, have you considered the possibility that I’m not actually a dragon?
“If there’s a chance,” Odin continued, “I’d like to spar with a young person of limitless potential like you.”
Hah.
Dragons really loved “sparring.”
Rosvitha had sparred with him.
Noah had said she’d been waiting for her chance during that bell-snatching match.
Old Constantine had promised a showdown too.
And now this terrifying old man wanted to fight him as well.
Dragons. Fighting. Pure bliss.
“All right. The meeting is about to begin,” Odin said. “When the time comes, I will support your decision.”
“And I believe most of the Dragon Kings will support you as well.”
“Yes. Thank you, sir.”
Keeping dragon society stable wasn’t Leon suddenly becoming a saint.
From beginning to end, he had only one goal:
He could not let a dragon civil war affect his family.
So Odin’s support mattered.
……
The two returned to the summit hall. Arlais and his group had also taken their seats.
The meeting was about to begin.
“This is such a major matter, and yet the Tower Master still doesn’t intend to show himself?” Arlais asked flatly.
Kaide, the attendant, bowed slightly.
“My apologies. My master is occupied with affairs and cannot spare himself. Therefore, as before, this meeting will be conducted by the Dragon Kings present. I will report the results truthfully to my master.”
“Hmph. That Democius fellow never stops being ‘busy,’” Arlais muttered.
Odin merely waved it off, then looked toward the Dragon Kings seated on one side.
They were the main focus of this summit.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Arlais said. “During the human–dragon war, you expanded quite a bit of territory and resources through under-the-table cooperation with the Empire, didn’t you?”
……
In the meeting, Arlais indeed behaved exactly as Leon had predicted:
between the lines, he constantly tried to squeeze benefits out of those colluding Dragon Kings—
under the banner of “you should compensate all dragonkind.”
But in truth, anyone who listened carefully could tell:
Arlais was trying to profit for himself.
And just as Leon had said, the colluding Dragon Kings were provoked by Arlais’s aggressive rhetoric and barely concealed greed, and they reacted with deep resistance and resentment.
To Leon, neither side was anything good.
That only reinforced his point:
Expecting “unity” from the dragon clans was nonsense.
If they could merely maintain stability, they should be thanking the heavens.⁵
The meeting dragged on.
After arguing for several hours, Arlais threw down a final demand:
“You must cede all the land and resources you gained during this war!”
“Bullshit! A lot of that territory was won through legitimate battles—it has nothing to do with the Empire!”
“And so much time has passed—how can you even determine which lands were taken through cooperation with the Empire, and which were originally ours?”
“Isn’t ‘right and wrong’ just whatever you say it is?”
“Silence! Don’t forget your identity—you are criminals of the dragon clans!”
“Seeking benefits for our clan and our people, and you call us criminals? Isn’t that going too far?”
“……”
Both sides clung to their own arguments, refusing to yield.
In the end, a soft cough from Odin halted the escalating quarrel.
Everyone fell silent in unspoken agreement—Arlais included.
All eyes turned toward Odin seated at the center on the opposite side, waiting for him to speak.
Under the gaze of the whole room, Golden Sand Dragon King Morgan leaned toward the old man’s ear and muttered,
“This is exactly why I don’t want to sit with you—at any moment you have to be ready to be stared at by everyone!”
The old dragon shot him an irritated glare.
Morgan shrugged and sat upright obediently.
“All Dragon Kings have voiced their opinions,” Odin said, “but a few are still missing.”
As he spoke, Odin looked toward Leon—who had remained silent for most of the meeting—and the women beside him.
“Silver Dragon King, Silver Dragon Prince Consort, Red Dragon King, and the Sea Dragon Crown Princess—what are your thoughts?”
After speaking privately with Odin earlier, Leon had already told Rosvitha and the others his position.
They naturally agreed with his decision.
So when Odin asked, they each explained it from their own angles, in their own words, following Leon’s line.
Predictably, Leon’s approach directly conflicted with Arlais’s.
However, before Arlais could refute, Odin cut in:
“Punishment is necessary, Arlais. Don’t rush.”
“You—!”
“But as that Dragon King just said, too much time has passed. It is difficult to verify which territories and resources were originally theirs, and which were seized through cooperation with the Empire.”
“So the details of punishment require longer discussion, and…” Odin slowly turned his gaze to Arlais and said with pointed meaning, “…a more professional and fair team. Don’t you agree, Arlais?”
“……Hmph. Indecisive, Odin. You really are old.”
The old thunder dragon didn’t care about Arlais’s contempt.
Because that’s all Arlais dared do—contempt.
“Then, since everyone has shared their thoughts,” Odin said, “let’s proceed to the final vote.”
After a simple show of hands, the result was the same as last time:
with the colluding Dragon Kings excluded from voting, the majority still supported Leon’s position.
It seemed that even though the Dragon Kings couldn’t truly reconcile, they still longed for a more stable environment for their species.
Arlais was, of course, dissatisfied.
After the vote, he left in a fury.
“Thank you all for attending this Dragon King summit,” Kaide said. “And thank you to the Silver Dragon Prince Consort and the Thunder Dragon King for your decision. Then, this summit—”
“Wait, Kaide,” Odin said, lifting a hand. “There’s one more matter that must be confirmed.”
“Please speak.”
“With the Empire’s regime change, the human–dragon war is entering its end stage,” Odin said. “After a century, perhaps it is time we conduct a formal negotiation with that tenacious species.”
“Negotiation…”
“Yes. And as for who should negotiate with humans—I have a recommendation—”
With that, the old man raised his hand and planted a heavy slap onto Leon’s shoulder.
Pfft—
A suppressed laugh burst out in the solemn hall.
Odin followed the sound, eyes narrowing.
“Red Dragon King—are you dissatisfied with the person I recommended?”
Isha waved her hands rapidly, still trying not to laugh.
“No, no. I just… just thought of something happy.”
Even Rosvitha, who also badly wanted to laugh, held it in and lightly jabbed her sister’s arm, whispering,
“Laugh at home. Laugh at home later.”
At that moment, General Leon tried to imagine himself representing all dragonkind at a negotiating table with humans.
And the result—
He couldn’t imagine it at all, damn it.
…
Footnotes:
- yán duō bì shī“The more you speak, the more you reveal.” A warning that excessive talk increases the risk of mistakes or exposing secrets.
- yī pán sǎn shā“A heap of loose sand.” Metaphor for being completely fragmented and unable to act as a unified force.
- lǎo yóu tiáoLiterally “old fried dough stick”; slang for an old hand/slick veteran who’s very shrewd and hard to fool.
- fèng máo lín jiǎo“Phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.” Idiom meaning extremely rare.
- shāo gāo xiāng“Burn high incense (to give thanks).” Used humorously to mean “we should count ourselves lucky / be grateful it’s not worse.”