As the sun dipped toward the horizon, its fading rays filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled, golden patterns on the forest floor. The gentle, constant sound of flowing water accompanied the soft crackle of a small campfire that Leon and Mevis had set up by the riverbank for a brief, necessary rest.
"We're pressed for time, Mevis. Do we really need to stop, light a fire, and have something to eat?" Leon asked, his tone laced with skepticism as he watched her prepare their makeshift meal.
Mevis, hands on her hips for a moment before settling down, calmly took a seat on a smooth log. She skewered some small, cleaned fish she had gathered earlier and placed them carefully over the flames. The flickering firelight reflected in her dark, unreadable eyes as she replied evenly, without looking up at him,
"Taking time to refuel will not delay us meaningfully, Prince. Besides, judging from the map and the water's condition, we are already very near the source of the pollution. Don't worry—this short respite will not negatively affect your daughter's test score."
Leon gave a reluctant nod, though his gaze remained fixed on the fish sizzling over the fire. He blinked and asked, a note of practical concern in his voice,
"But if we're so close to the pollution source, how can you be sure those fish are safe to eat? They came from this river, didn't they?"
"I specifically caught these from a clean tributary far downstream. They are perfectly safe and natural," Mevis assured him, her voice calm.
"But what if those fish had previously swum upstream from the polluted area?" Leon countered, playing devil's advocate.
"Prince," Mevis said, her tone finally gaining a faint edge of impatience. "Are you eating, or are you not?"
Leon huffed, crossing his arms in a show of defiance. "I, a Silver Dragon Prince, would rather starve, jump into this river, or die of hunger than eat—"
Minutes later, Leon was munching enthusiastically on a perfectly roasted fish, his earlier protest forgotten. "Wow, this is genuinely delicious! Teacher Mevis, your fish-roasting skills are truly amazing!"
The title of "Prince" suddenly seemed to carry a new, humorous ambiguity. Was it the "Prince" in "Silver Dragon Prince," or had it morphed into the "Prince" in "Prince of Contradictions"?
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Mevis's lips as she took small, delicate bites of her own fish. Despite the complete lack of seasoning, it was surprisingly tasty, likely because the long day of trekking through difficult terrain had worked up a formidable appetite.
Leon observed Mevis as she ate. Her table manners, even in this wild setting, were notably refined and precise—a stark contrast to the lively, often chaotic informality he was used to at home with his wife and daughters. It was clear she'd received extensive formal etiquette training at some point in her life.
A thought crossed Leon's mind: for a supposed survivor of a disbanded and presumably struggling dragon clan, maintaining such polished habits despite adversity suggested that she, or her immediate family, had once held significant status. However, it wasn't something he could casually inquire about without revealing his suspicions. Observation was one thing; direct prying would be unforgivably rude.
His attention drifted to a ring on Mevis's right index finger. The band was made of a black material that gleamed with a subdued luster in the firelight. It wasn't crystal or diamond; it looked like some sort of rare, polished metal.
Noticing Leon's curious gaze, Mevis raised her hand and examined the ring herself. "Interested in my little accessory, Prince?"
Leon snapped out of his thoughts, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile. "Ah, no, not really. I just thought the material looked somewhat rare, that's all."
Mevis blinked slowly and replied after a moment's thought, "It is rare." Then she said no more, calmly resuming her meal.
Sensing she did not wish to discuss it further, Leon smoothly shifted topics. "Speaking of rings, Teacher, I just realized neither I nor the Silver Dragon Queen wear wedding rings. It's a bit funny, isn't it?"
Wedding rings? Leon thought ruefully to himself. Rings? We don't even have official wedding photos. Being a couple whose relationship had started with an unexpected pregnancy and a blood enchantment meant some of the traditional formalities had been... rushed, to say the least.
He laughed it off aloud, giving a quick, simplified explanation. "My wife and I never saw the need for flashy displays. We both prefer simplicity, so we decided against wearing rings from the beginning."
Mevis nodded, her expression neutral. "I see." She didn't press the subject, and the conversation naturally lapsed back into a comfortable silence, filled only by the sounds of the forest.
After they had finished eating, Mevis stood and gracefully sprinkled dirt over the dying embers, thoroughly extinguishing the fire. "Let's keep moving, Prince. The light is fading."
"Got it," Leon replied, rising to his feet and falling into step behind her as they continued their journey upstream.
One Hour Later
They reached the source of the pollution.
A beautiful, small waterfall cascaded into a pool that should have been clear but was now darkened to an ominous, murky purple. A faint, sickly mist rose from its surface, and the vegetation immediately surrounding the pool had withered and blackened, leaving the area eerily silent and lifeless.
Standing on a sturdy branch high in a tree overlooking the grim scene, Mevis pointed a slender finger. "Prince, look above the waterfall, nestled in the cliff face. That seems to be a nest."
Leon followed her direction and spotted it: a large, intricately woven insect nest, from which the faint purple mist seemed to be seeping. "Judging by the size and its strategic location, it's likely the nest of a flying, highly dangerous species," he surmised, his fighter's instincts kicking in.
Mevis nodded in agreement. "Since it has established a nest here, it's likely highly territorial. Our most efficient strategy is to wait here for it to return. We can observe its patterns and identify its weaknesses."
"Good plan. Patience it is," Leon agreed.
The two settled into their positions, hidden by the foliage, their senses sharpened as they began their vigil.
During the long wait, Leon's eyes occasionally flickered toward Mevis, and he noticed that Mevis would occasionally return the look. Each time their eyes accidentally met, they both quickly averted their gazes, pretending to be intensely interested in a leaf or a cloud, the air thick with unspoken questions and a strange, familiar awkwardness.
It reminded Leon painfully of the very early days with Rossweise, when they'd both been trapped in a similar dance of hesitation and unspoken curiosity. But Leon, a proud graduate of his own personal "Model Husband Academy," entertained no romantic thoughts toward Mevis. His interest was purely, intensely protective and investigative.
Still, there was something about her gaze when she thought he wasn't looking—not just curious or analytical, but deeply contemplative and layered with a profound, complex emotion that went far beyond mere professional scrutiny.
"Prince, the target has appeared," Mevis said suddenly, her voice a low, sharp whisper that broke his train of thought.
Leon shook off his musings and focused his entire attention toward the waterfall.
A massive butterfly, its wings a mesmerizing, iridescent tapestry of colors, descended gracefully from the darkening sky and settled upon the large nest.
"It's a Poison Winged Butterfly Queen," Leon identified, his voice grim. "No wonder the river's been polluted. During its extended mating season, it releases potent pheromones into the air and water to attract mates from miles away. These pheromones are highly toxic to the surrounding environment."
Mevis nodded, making a mental note. "This discovery clears up both the cause of the pollution and the creature's anomalous behavior. The academy's environmental council will be pleased with such detailed results."
"Why's that?" Leon asked.
"The involvement and deductive contributions of family members are a key part of the evaluation. It reflects whether the guardian took the test seriously and provided meaningful support," Mevis explained.
"So, logically," Leon said, his excitement visibly returning, "if I go up there right now and single-handedly take out that butterfly queen, Noah's final score is guaranteed to be perfect, right?"
Mevis let out a soft sigh, barely suppressing a chuckle at his eager, brute-force solution. "Prince, while I have no doubt you are entirely capable of such a feat, this test was designed to emphasize strategy and teamwork. I believe we should at least symbolically work together to defeat it. For the score."
Leon scratched his head in frustration but relented. "Alright, fine. You just stand over there and shout 'Go, Prince!' for moral support, and I'll handle the rest. That counts as teamwork, doesn't it?"
Mevis actually laughed softly at that, a rare, genuine sound. "That would certainly be one interpretation. But I think we can do slightly better. We'll engage it together—symbolically, of course."
Leon, eager for action now that a plan was set, nodded vigorously. "Let's do this!"
The two moved into their final positions, standing side by side on the high treetop, overlooking their target.
Under the pale light of the rising moon, a silver glow outlined their forms, lending them an almost otherworldly, heroic appearance against the darkening sky.
As a gentle night breeze rustled the leaves around them, a single, large leaf spiraled down and landed at their feet.
The moment it touched the ground, they vanished from the branch.
Two figures soared through the air with powerful, graceful leaps, crossing the distance toward the nest. Crackling energy, silver and dark, gathered in their respective hands as they pierced through the twilight, their combined assault illuminating the night sky like a sudden storm.