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

BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
Lightning strikes rained down relentlessly, forcing Leon to move constantly. He couldn’t pause for more than half a second before another strike would land. A single hit would be enough to decide the outcome of the duel.
Even as he dodged, Leon’s mind raced, searching for a solution.

Should I use the Shadow of Sumeru?
No… no, that won’t work. The basic version forms quickly, but it’s too fragile—it won’t hold up against these lightning strikes.
If I upgrade it to the intermediate form, it’ll take at least three seconds to prepare… but two seconds is more than enough for this lightning to turn me to ash.

“Damn it,” Leon muttered under his breath. “I’ve never thought lightning magic could be this troublesome before!”
Trapped and with no way out, Leon was beginning to understand the helplessness those dragon lords he had once slain must have felt in their final moments.
From a distance, Odin watched calmly, his hands crossed over his chest, his expression stern.

Victory was within reach, yet Odin felt no joy.
“Is this all you’ve got, Leon?” he muttered.
If that were the case, the fight was turning into a disappointment.

Still, Odin wasn’t one to draw things out unnecessarily. Slowly, he raised his hand, spreading his fingers wide.
As his power surged, a glowing sphere of white lightning began to form above the dual magic circles.
“This move will put an end to it,” Odin said softly.

The sphere grew larger and larger, its energy so intense that even those outside the independent space could feel it.
“This is insane! Isn’t their duel supposed to be happening in a space specially created by the Tower Master? How can the energy waves still seep out?”
“That’s World-Crushing Thunderstorm. The last time I heard about this spell, it was in a textbook my great-grandfather used in school!”

Ultra-S Grade Lightning Magic: World-Crushing Thunderstorm.
In the Twilight Tower, the Tower Master sighed deeply, closing her eyes.
“If Leon can’t escape this, and Odin is actually using that move, then the outcome of this battle… is already clear.”
The dragon kings in the observation room were silent. They weren’t uninterested in the duel—they simply knew how it would end. Instead, they focused on appreciating the sheer artistry of one of the highest forms of lightning magic.

“World-Crushing Thunderstorm,” one of the older dragon kings murmured. “I never thought I’d see a dragon use that spell in ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ this day and age.”
Inside Noa’s consciousness, the Ancestor’s voice echoed.
“That spell… it’s ancient. A relic from the era of Tiamat, the Dragon God. It’s powerful, pure, and devastating. Even at my peak, I couldn’t have taken it head-on.”

Her words were calm but firm, a grim reminder of the spell’s lethality.
Noa clenched her fists, biting her lip. She stared at the recording stone, praying silently for her father.
“Your father is strong, Noa,” the Ancestor continued. “But this time, his situation is dire. Trapped in the Lightning Prison, there’s no way to avoid it. If this were a fight to the death, your father would—”

“But it’s not over yet,” Noa interrupted, her voice steady but strained.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“My dad always says, ‘Until the very last moment, no one knows how it’ll end.’”

Her words weren’t grand or elaborate, just a simple statement of belief.
The Ancestor, sensing the determination in Noa’s tone, didn’t argue. She remained quiet, staying by Noa’s side to watch the battle unfold.
Within the independent space, the massive purple lightning sphere began to descend, heading straight for Leon’s Lightning Prison.

There was no escape.
The light it radiated was apocalyptic, illuminating Leon’s surroundings with an inescapable glow. It was the kind of power that could tear through dimensions—a force that could only be met head-on.
As the purple light neared, Leon’s vision blurred. For a brief moment, he felt a powerful energy sweep over his consciousness.

Outside the battlefield, murmurs rippled through the crowd of dragon kings and spectators.
“Has Leon lost?”
The atmosphere was heavy with defeat, and even Odin’s posture suggested that the fight was nearing its end.

Yet, in the Twilight Tower, Konstantin stood frozen, his expression grim as he stared at the recording stone.
“Leon…” he muttered.
Beside him, his daughter Hefei tugged at his sleeve, her voice timid.

“Father… Uncle Leon, is he really… defeated?”
Konstantin didn’t answer. For the first time, the usually stoic Red Flame Dragon King looked uncertain, unwilling to face the possibility of Leon’s loss.
The recording stone flared with a blinding white light, forcing everyone to shield their eyes.

When the light finally faded, the deep crater left by Odin’s spell came into view.
At its center, a figure stood tall.
Leon’s clothes had been burned to ash, revealing his muscular frame. His body radiated a soft, white glow, like an ethereal armor forged from pure light.

His black hair flowed in an unseen wind, and his deep, calm eyes reflected a tranquility as still as water.
“White energy… is that primordial power?” Noa whispered, her voice trembling.
“No,” the Ancestor replied, her tone reverent.

“That’s not primordial energy. If Odin’s World-Crushing Thunderstorm was a testament to the power of ancient magic, then this… this is a miracle.”
The Ancestor’s voice grew quieter, filled with awe.
“I spent millennia seeking this kind of power, but I never even scratched the surface. It’s something beyond this world, beyond all magic.”

She paused. “Noa, you were right. Until the very end… no one can predict the outcome.”
In the observation room, the dragon kings stared at the recording stone in stunned silence.
The sight of Leon, glowing with forbidden brilliance, left them speechless. Even Rosvisser, who had been trembling moments ago, held her breath as she gazed at the screen, her emotions unreadable.

Leon stood like a god, unmoving yet commanding awe.
One of the elder dragon kings, Morgan, finally broke the silence.
“Heh… that technique… it couldn’t be—”

His voice faltered, unable to finish the thought.
Just then, a soft, melodic voice echoed through the room.
“It is exactly what you think.”

The dragon kings turned to see a blue-haired woman standing at the entrance, her serene smile radiating confidence.
“Super Perception,” she said, enunciating each word with deliberate clarity.