61 Tell Dad About the Pressure
A few days later, at the student auditorium of Saint His Academy, the Young Dragon Department drama competition officially kicked off.
Noya’s group was fortunate, getting to perform later in the lineup.
Why “fortunate,” you ask? Because the later you go on stage, the deeper impression you leave on the school leaders and judges, which greatly impacts the final score.
The first two groups performed exceptionally well.
With a solid script and coherent structure, every time the story reached a climax, the audience erupted in applause.
This put quite a bit of pressure on Noya.
Honestly, this drama competition was a territory she had never ventured into before.
In the past, with regular textbook knowledge and practical competitions, her talent and the “Buff of the Scroll King” allowed her to lead by a mile.
But a drama competition was different.
Not only was this an unfamiliar type of competition for Noya, but there was also something she felt uncertain about: it wasn’t enough for her to rely solely on her own efforts to achieve a good result.
And what she meant by “uncertain” didn’t come from fearing her little troupe’s performance would flop; she was more afraid that after all their hard work, they wouldn’t get the score they dreamed of in the end.
Noya had never feared failure; she always took the blame for her own mistakes and grew stronger through them.
But this time, as the director, the rehearsals for her entire little troupe were under her command, and the ultimate score was directly linked to her.
If they didn’t do well, wouldn’t that mean that Dad, Mom, her little sisters, and Aunt Helena and Aunt Claudia… had wasted so much time and energy for nothing?
In fact, all these days, Noya had been worried about this.
This was the first time she felt the pressure of being a “leader.”
Noya didn’t go to Helena to vent her troubles because she knew that would only spread the pressure throughout the team and wouldn’t help at all.
As the third group’s performance neared its end, it was almost time for Noya and her group to take the stage.
Little Dragon Girl stood backstage, watching the fantastic performances and wearing a serious expression on her small face.
“Everyone’s doing great…” Noya whispered.
“Noya.”
A familiar voice came from behind.
Noya quickly adjusted herself, turned around, and smiled, “Dad.”
At this moment, Leon had already changed into the costume for the first act:
A battered suit of armor, bl**d-stained wig, and a broken holy sword.
The battle scars on his face were truly lifelike.
Father, you really are the chosen one to play the prisoner—Aurora had said so.
Leon knelt beside Noya, matching her eye level.
“Are you watching the other performances?” Leon asked.
“Yeah, you taught me to observe the opponents before a fight; know yourself and your enemy, and you won’t be defeated,” Noya replied seriously.
Leon chuckled and gently patted Noya’s little head, “Drama performance isn’t a battlefield; don’t be so tense, Noya.”
“Yes, Dad.”
Her tone was still earnest and solemn.
Leon’s gaze fell, noticing she was secretly clutching her skirt, and her little tail dragged on the floor—she looked so gloomy.
So… she’s still nervous, Leon thought.
“Don’t worry, when it’s our turn, I, Mom, and your sisters will give it our all; we definitely won’t embarrass our director, you,” Leon tried to comfort her.
He figured Noya’s current tension came from worrying they wouldn’t perform at their usual level in practice and would miss the chance for a good score.
But Noya’s reaction seemed to deny Leon’s guess.
“Um… it’s okay, Dad, just do your best.”
Leon was taken aback.
Wait a minute, my good daughter, isn’t it my job to ease your nerves?
How come you’re the one saying “it’s okay, just do your best”?
Leon opened his mouth, about to continue comforting Noya, but suddenly realized his smart, high-standard daughter was different from ordinary children.
She had experienced countless competitions and battles—even ambushed a Dragon King-level opponent (twice!)—there’s no way a mere drama performance could leave her so out of sorts.
Plus, Leon had seen Noya when she was eager for victory—bursting with fighting spirit and confidence—completely different from this droopy state.
So… it’s not because she’s worried about him and the others’ performance…
Leon’s mind your thoughts drifted, attempting to grasp his daughter’s feelings.
Meanwhile, the group on stage garnered applause from the audience and judges.
Hearing this, Noya turned to look at the stage and gripped her skirt even tighter.
Behind the curtain on the other side of the stage was the other little director.
Watching her troupe receive rounds of applause, that little director was overjoyed.
Noya’s gaze fell on her, and she couldn’t seem to look away.
Leon caught this little gesture of Noya’s.
He blinked, immediately understanding what Noya’s real concern was.
“Being a director, it’s quite a bit of pressure, isn’t it?” Leon asked.
Noya’s small back trembled slightly, but she didn’t turn around. “Ah… it’s fine, really.”
“If I remember correctly, this should be your first time guiding so many people to complete something together, right?”
Noya bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, then nodded, “Yes.”
Leon pondered for a second, then carefully phrased his next words and spoke,
“Want to hear about Dad’s stories from back when he led troops into battle?”
Noya raised an eyebrow, her heavy thoughts pulled back to the story Leon was about to tell, “Sure!”
“Back then, my tribe hadn’t disbanded yet, and I was one of the top frontline commanders,” Leon said, borrowing from Roswiser’s character setup, mixing in some of his actual experiences.
“Do you remember when I led a team on a mission? Everyone was experienced, but it was my first time serving as captain.”
“Every decision about the team was up to me. Honestly, it was a heavy burden. I was super worried that one wrong decision of mine could injure my teammates or even… lead to their deaths.”
“So during various negotiations, I was extra careful, hiding my hand and lacking confidence in the command skills I’d learned.”
“I thought being so conservative would see us through to the end of the mission, but unfortunately…”
At this point, Leon paused, noticing Noya’s interest piqued—she loved hearing him tell stories from his past.
“Unfortunately?” Noya tilted her head slightly.
Leon gave a bitter smile, rubbed his nose, and continued,
“Unfortunately, just as we were wrapping up the mission, we were cornered by the opposing side.”
“The reason this happened was because I had been overly cautious in my decisions, allowing them to exploit that habit and fall into their trap.”
Noya’s pupils fluttered, and she said, “But Dad, you still made it out, right?”
“Mm.”
“How did you do it?”
“At that time, we had a girl in our team skilled in long-range magic—ah, I meant to say, she was great with ranged attacks. When I was wallowing in self-pity due to my poor decisions that had led the team into a trap, she slapped me right in the face.”
Leon chuckled, recalling the old story that rarely came up.
He wouldn’t have said so much if it weren’t to help his darling daughter overcome her mental hurdle.
“She told me, ‘You became the captain not because of orders from above, but because everyone trusts and respects you, believing in your abilities enough to entrust their lives to you.’”
“‘But you’ve been acting like a conservative country bumpkin all day, afraid to do this, afraid to do that. If you went to the park to play chess with an old man, he’d call you a wimp.’”
“I asked her if she regretted making me captain.”
“She said no, but if I didn’t stand up and keep directing us, she’d give me a second slap.”
“And at that moment, I understood that when you become a leader of a team, you and your teammates are one unit. They are your right-hand and left-hand, and you should issue commands to them as easily as you move your own body.”
“Since everyone has acknowledged you, that means they’ll also share the consequences of the decisions you make.”
As he spoke, Leon gently placed his hand on Noya’s head,
“Just like your mom, she didn’t earn everyone’s acceptance just by becoming the Silver Dragon Queen; she gained that acceptance first before finally ascending to the throne.”
“Your mom and I have walked this path step by step, Noya, so I understand how you feel right now.”
“I don’t expect you to conquer your internal struggles immediately, but please remember one thing—”
He stood up slowly, stepping aside to reveal a few others behind him.
Noya looked over, “Mom… everyone…”
“We believe in your abilities; no matter the outcome, you won’t have to face it alone.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the host’s voice came through from the stage,
“Now, the next performance is ‘As Love Drowns’ directed by Noya K. Melkway. Please welcome!”
Although Noya herself might not know this, the name “Noya” in the Young Dragon Department often stood for “invincible,” and her popularity was at household-name level.
So, when the audience heard this name, they cheered even louder.
Roswiser guided Moon onto the stage.
Leon followed closely behind.
As he brushed past his eldest daughter, he patted Noya on the shoulder and said,
“Did you hear that applause, Noya? That’s all for you.”
