The air was thick with tension in the Dragon Cadet Camp.
Rumors had spread like wildfire—there was to be an official campaign against the Magic Beasts of F'ederan. Every cadet, from the youngest novice to the seasoned seniors, was abuzz with talk of the upcoming war.
Weapons were sharpened, strategies discussed, and alliances solidified.
Neron sat in the corner of the mess hall, his gaze fixed on the briefing tent where the senior commanders had gathered. Despite days of integrating into the camp and earning his place as its leader, he still felt a gnawing unease.
"Why now?" he muttered, swirling a bowl of steaming stew without taking a bite.
"Leader, the briefing is about to begin."
A junior cadet's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He nodded and stood, his movements deliberate. His time among the Dragons had taught him much—not just about combat, but about their pride, their culture, and their unwavering sense of hierarchy.
But something didn't sit right with him. The Dragons were powerful, far more so than the Magic Beasts of F'ederan. A full-blown war seemed unnecessary. Lilith's cryptic instructions echoed in his mind—
'Figure it out yourself.'
***********
Inside the grand briefing tent, a large map of the continent sprawled across the central table.
The Dragon King himself stood at its head, his towering frame radiating authority. His crimson scales shimmered in the torchlight, and his golden eyes surveyed the gathering with a mix of pride and expectation.
Neron took his place among the other leaders, his sharp ears catching snippets of their conversation.
"... A decisive strike at their northern borders."
"They'll never expect us to take the highlands route..."
"Their defenses are weak; it's only a matter of time."
The Dragon King raised a hand, silencing the murmurs. His voice boomed, commanding immediate attention.
"Brave Dragons of my Nation, our time has come. The Magic Beasts of F'ederan have grown bold, encroaching upon our sacred lands. They dare to challenge the might of our people, refusing to be our loyal vassals. We will show them the folly of their arrogance."
A roar of approval erupted from the gathered leaders. Neron remained silent, his mind racing.
'How am I supposed to stop this?'
~WHOOOSH!~
He ran to the front of the formation, his voice cutting through the immense noise of the crowd..
"Wait!"
The Dragons nearest to him faltered, their eyes narrowing in confusion. The King turned, his expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity.
"Neron," the King said, his voice measured. "What is the meaning of this?"
Neron took a deep breath, forcing himself to stand tall despite the overwhelming presence of the Dragon King.
"I challenge you," he said, his voice steady despite the murmurs spreading through the ranks like wildfire.
The King's golden eyes locked onto Neron, studying him intently.
"You... challenge me?"
"Yes," Neron replied, his fists clenched. "If I win, you call off this war."
The Dragons erupted into laughter, their voices echoing across the valley.
"Does he think he can beat the King?"
"This is madness!"
"He'll be crushed in seconds."
The King raised a hand, silencing the crowd. His gaze never left Neron. "You are bold, I'll give you that. But do you understand what you're asking? A challenge against me is not something to take lightly."
"I understand perfectly," Neron said, his voice unwavering. "But I can't let this war happen without doing everything in my power to stop it."
The King's expression softened, if only for a moment. "Very well. I admire your courage, even if it borders on foolishness."
The murmurs grew louder, disbelief spreading through the ranks.
Neron stepped forward, his eyes blazing with determination. "So..."
"... Do you accept my challenge?!"