Chp-7-Training the basics.

Time passed.

Malicas was now three years old, and it was finally time for his combat training with his elder sister.

Malicas, Mayvelin, and Milim were walking through a grand corridor, with the little boy holding onto both of their hands. He didn't know whether he was simply too short or if his sister and mother were just tall, but he only reached their thighs in height. Even if he hugged them from behind, he couldn't reach their hips.

Currently, both Milim and Mayvelin were slightly bent over to allow Malicas to hold their hands comfortably. The three made their way toward the training arena of Clan Nova's estate.

A few moments later, they arrived.

To Malicas, the arena was massive. It stretched about three kilometers in length and two kilometers in width. In one corner, there were dummies for practicing various weapons: swords, spears, archery, axes, gauntlets, and more. The range and variety were impressive. There was even a track encircling the arena, likely used for running. The main combat platform, raised above ground level and surrounded by a bluish transparent barrier, occupied nearly 75% of the entire arena.

"How is it, Little Mal? Do you like the arrangements your big sis made for you?" Milim asked, squatting to his level with a bright smile.

"Yes, big sis, this place is really good and big," Malicas replied, smiling as he kissed her on the lips.

After the "movie incident," affectionate kisses had become quite common in their family. At first, Milim had been surprised by the sudden kisses, but now she reciprocated them with a smile.

"Little Mal, this isn't that big. It's actually a smaller arena, customized to your current size," Milim explained kindly. "The witches helped build this place, so the facilities are top-notch. Don't worry about anything."

The Witches of Elvenorah were known for their neutrality and their incredible magical craftsmanship. For a price, they provided nearly anything one could need. Among them, the supreme Witch Mother, Florencia Rain, oversaw nine Witch Queens. Selene, one of these Queens, was directly associated with Mayvelin.

Such exclusive, dedicated service wasn't common. Only Mayvelin, the Dragon Empress, and Queen Agalea Grace of the Elves had Witch Queens assigned to them personally. Perhaps the witches preferred to work with powerful women?

"Train well, dear. Mama will be sitting nearby, cheering for you!" Mayvelin said cheerfully, kissing Malicas goodbye.

Milim took his hand and led him to the weapons training section. Malicas turned back, waving to his mother with a bright smile.

They stopped in front of a table displaying a wide array of miniature training weapons.

"Which one would you like to start with, dear?" Milim asked gently.

Malicas glanced at the weapons and then up at his sister. "Which ones does big sis know?"

She puffed her chest with pride and grinned. "Your big sis has mastered all the weapons here."

He looked at her with amusement. "I want to learn them all too. But first, sword."

Milim ruffled his hair affectionately, picked two wooden swords, and took him to a nearby dummy. She began teaching him the basics of swordplay while their mother watched from the sidelines, her expression glowing with joy.

After a few hours of practice, Milim smiled and said, "Great work today, Little Mal. Let's go wash up."

The three of them lay in a large, warm bathtub. There was nothing particularly eventful in the bath, aside from the usual closeness shared by the family. Malicas suckled quietly from Mayvelin while Milim cuddled up beside them, resting her head on her mother's shoulder and wrapping an arm around both of them. Mayvelin held them both lovingly and allowed the two to relax.

Mayvelin, seeing her children so calm and content, smiled proudly. She kissed both their foreheads and waited until they had fallen asleep. Then, with practiced ease, she carried them to her bedroom and laid them on the bed.

Milim was the first to wake up.

She found herself held tightly by her mother, with her little brother nestled in between them. As an adult—by dragon standards, having reached over 500 years of age—Milim found herself mildly embarrassed by the situation. She was the acting Queen in her mother's stead and had taken on great responsibility, yet here she was, being coddled like a child again.

She resolved to quietly extract herself, but Mayvelin, already awake and aware, chuckled and tightened her grip.

"Fufufu~ You're not going anywhere, dear. Stay until your brother wakes up, then I'll let you go."

Mayvelin was a deeply affectionate and protective mother. She cherished every opportunity to pamper her children, perhaps excessively so.

Anyone who heard this description of Mayvelin would scoff in disbelief. The world still remembered the terror of Mayvelin Nova from 10,000 years ago. For the last 1,000 years, she had withdrawn from public affairs, focusing solely on her family after Milim's birth. Why was she so feared? What had she done to earn her infamy? Those were questions for another time...

For now, her only concern was the two precious dragons in her arms.