Fighting his father over a woman... honestly, that wasn't all that strange. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Ambrose had seen plenty of cases like this, both before and after his transmigration. There were countless stories of those who had turned against their parents over their lovers, as if brief months of affection outweighed decades of parental care.

The two dragons clashed fiercely in the sky. But it was obvious the silver dragon was holding back. Its claws and fangs never struck with full force. The green dragon showed no such restraint, biting the silver dragon until its body was covered in wounds.

Before long, the silver dragon crashed to the ground in front of the castle. Its mangled body was drenched in blood. Dragon blood gushed out like water, and the dragon's split belly exposed writhing intestines and a still-beating heart.

A druid's transformation was a complete metamorphosis. Brandir Sanda, in this form, was all but indistinguishable from a real dragon.

But before the silver dragon could truly experience the agony of being disemboweled, its gigantic body suddenly burst apart like exploding mud, splattering in every direction.

Brandir Sanda stepped out of the spreading mire, completely unharmed.

That was what was so terrifying about druids. When they transformed, it was as if they were gaining a second life. No matter how grievous their injuries, once the transformation ended, they returned to normal as if nothing had happened.

Powerful druids could repeatedly transform in order to block otherwise fatal damage.

High above, the green dragon beat its wings and roared down at him, "Brandir, have you come to your senses?!"

Brandir sighed. "Father, I know you're angry. But I've already made my decision, and I won't regret it."

"Idiot! How did I end up raising a son like you?!"

With a furious roar, the green dragon swung its tail toward Brandir.

But this time, Brandir no longer endured the blows without resisting. A brilliant green radiance flared from his body. Thick vines erupted from the air itself, coiling around the enormous green dragon and binding it tightly.

The dragon roared and struggled, but could not break free.

The green dragon swiftly reverted to human form. An elderly druid appeared within the tangle of vines. Having returned to human form, he also regained his spellcasting ability. The vines twisted under the old man's control, rapidly reshaping themselves into woven warriors. They lunged toward Brandir.

Brandir sighed again and pulled out a long oak staff.

Golden light gathered around the staff. With a single swing, he shattered each vine warrior in turn.

This was a trick every druid could learn: Shillelagh, a spell that temporarily enchanted a wooden club to increase its power. It was a cantrip, with a normally rather modest effect.

But in Brandir's hands, the staff was like a divine weapon.

Vine warriors, towering treants over two meters tall, jungle sprites, elemental creatures—none of them could withstand a single strike from Brandir's staff. It was even more devastating than Sacred Slash.

Yet Brandir still showed restraint. He destroyed only the creatures his father summoned and never once struck the old man himself.

Ambrose couldn't help feeling a bit impressed. The lovestruck fool might be an idiot, but he was undeniably powerful.

His father could transform into a dragon, which meant he was almost certainly a legendary druid as well. Yet even in a rage, he was being easily suppressed by Brandir. That alone showed how terrifyingly talented the young druid was.

After smashing all the summoned creatures apart, Brandir said to his father, "Father, the truth is, I've been able to defeat you easily for the past decade. I was simply holding back."

Ambrose was speechless. Daring to say something like that—was this idiot trying to get himself killed?

Sure enough, the old druid's eyes turned red with fury. He transformed once again, this time into a massive bear, and swung a paw the size of a wok toward his unfilial son.

Brandir didn't dare injure his father. He could only keep summoning vines to block the bear's enormous swipes.

Eventually, one of two things would happen: either Brandir's mana would run out, or his father would exhaust himself first.

Ambrose had originally been enjoying the spectacle. Druid battles were rare enough, and those between two legendary druids fighting were even rarer.

But Catherine couldn't stand watching any longer. "You need to think of a way to stop them!" she told Ambrose.

"A way to stop them? Why? Do you want me to add fuel to the fire?" Ambrose asked curiously.

"Of course not! I want you to make them stop. If word spreads that I caused two druids to start fighting, it will damage the elves' reputation—and it will affect the cooperation between the Court of the Silver Moon and the Emerald Dreamwood!"

Catherine was no longer the naïve girl she once was. She had begun to consider the political consequences of her actions.

"You were the one who asked me to come to the Emerald Dreamwood to help you," Catherine said. "You have to resolve this."

"Fine, you've got a point." Ambrose nodded. "But the key to this conflict is you. You're the one who drove that druid mad with love. No one but you can resolve it."

Catherine looked flustered. "I don't even know what to do! I already rejected him. You can't expect me to kill him."

"Why not just marry him?" Ambrose suggested casually. "He's not that bad."

"Absolutely not," Catherine said firmly. "I don't like childish men like him. And besides, he's not even an elf."

The first time Brandir confessed his feelings, Catherine had rejected him without hesitation.

The druid had status, strength, and influence—but his behavior was childish, almost like that of a boy. Catherine felt very little affection for him. His reckless declarations of love had only put her in an awkward position and made her increasingly irritated.

Besides, most high elves preferred to marry only within their own race. Otherwise, given how beautiful the elves were, the number of half-elves on the continent would surely have been greater by an order of magnitude.

Ambrose sighed. "You're really that determined? Fine. We'll try a different approach and make him give up."

"How?" Catherine asked curiously. "I rejected him very clearly before, and he didn't listen at all."

"That's because your method was wrong. I'll handle it." As Ambrose spoke, his voice became identical to Catherine's.

The Lady of Mists' illusion magic was truly divine. It didn't just create visual illusions. Details in all other aspects were flawless as well.

Ambrose explained, "Stand on the balcony and do nothing. Let me do the talking."

Unfortunately, Catherine's charm was a special ability. Ambrose could replicate her appearance with an illusion, but not her absurd level of charisma. So she still had to stand in front of him and act out her role.

"Alright... I'm counting on you."

Hearing Ambrose's words, Catherine felt unexpectedly reassured. The lich might be cunning, but he kept his promises.

Catherine stepped outside the castle and appeared on the balcony.

Ambrose concealed his body and stood right behind her. To ensure the sound came from the correct position, he practically had to press himself against her back.

Her rather voluptuous figure made doing so quite uncomfortable.

Of course, Catherine had no idea what Ambrose was thinking. Nervously, she looked toward the two druids locked in battle. Her lips parted slightly as Ambrose spoke for her.

"Gentlemen, please stop. I've seen enough of this welcome from the Emerald Dreamwood."

Her words dripped with sarcasm. Catherine's expression changed immediately. "Isn't that a little too provocative?" she thought anxiously. "Isn't this lich afraid of causing a diplomatic incident between the Court of the Silver Moon and the Emerald Dreamwood?"

But the deception had already begun. She could only continue playing along.

The two combatants abruptly stopped fighting.

Brandir halted immediately, only to be struck twice by his father's bear paws, leaving his face swollen. The elder druid then reverted to human form as well and said respectfully to Catherine, "Queen Catherine, my son has been terribly disrespectful. I will be sure to discipline him properly."

Both Catherine and Ambrose were guests here, but the druids treated Catherine with far more respect than they did Ambrose.

That was the difference in national power. Catherine wasn't merely a guest. She was the queen of the elves.

Though Brandir's face was swollen and throbbing, he paid no attention to his father's words. He dropped to one knee before Catherine and declared loudly, "Catherine, nothing will stand in the way of my love for you. Whether my father approves or not, I will devote everything I have to you!"

Catherine frowned. Here he went again. That stubborn persistence was exactly what made her helpless against him.

But this time, she had Ambrose along for the ride.

"Brandir, I initially had no intention of wasting my time on this matter. I have already rejected you once. It seems that courtesy and politeness have little effect on you; I have no choice but to be direct. You should understand that my marriage concerns the future of the Court of the Silver Moon. As a member of the Emerald Council, are you attempting to interfere in the internal affairs of the elven Court?"

Brandir opened his mouth—but no words came out. How had things suddenly become so serious?

His father grew even more anxious. He hadn't expected the elven queen to become so sharp-tongued all of a sudden. She had previously seemed rather easygoing. Why would she suddenly turn this into a political issue?

Ambrose continued speaking in Catherine's voice. "You don't think I'm joking, do you? I am visiting the Emerald Dreamwood as queen. My every word and action represents the entire elven race. You should understand that as well. Brandir, for high elves to marry outside their race is considered an insult to all elves. Your so-called confession is, in other words, a provocation."

In terms of appearance, temperament, intellect, lifespan, and many other factors, the average high elf undoubtedly surpassed the average member of other races. Even the people of the Lyon Empire admitted that, aside from difficulties with reproduction, elves were superior to humans in almost every way.

Catherine had never used racial discrimination as a reason to reject him before because she was too kindhearted to wound someone's pride that way.

But now that Ambrose had invoked the argument, Brandir had no choice but to acknowledge it.

Even as the youngest legendary druid, marrying Catherine would be reaching far above his station.

"I originally didn't want such a trivial matter to affect the relations between our two nations," Ambrose continued. "But it seems my earlier words were not clear enough. Brandir, let me tell you plainly: I will not accept your confession. If you continue to harass me, I will regard it as a provocation against the Court of the Silver Moon. And the next time I visit the Emerald Dreamwood, I will bring the entirety of the Twilight Wardens with me, so that you will understand that the dignity of the elves is not to be challenged."