Hannah darted forward, her arms already outstretched, and was the first to pull him into a tight embrace.

Kasine was there right after her, not caring whether the other two were his real grandmothers or not.

Yet, there was no hint of jealousy in Brunhild and Margiory's faces, only pure joy and relief as they joined the group hug.

Kamus smiled broadly, and his relief was also evident in his expression.

Sokram even thought about joking and offering him a hug. But the consequences could range from a hellish training session to a beating disguised as a spar, and he wasn't in any condition for that yet.

The hug broke apart.

Before Sokram could even draw a breath, Hannah's hand shot out and clamped onto his ear, twisting it sharply. “If you ever do something like that again! I’ll kill you myself!”

After releasing his ear, she sat on a chair in the corner of the lab, pouting with her arms crossed.

The sting in his ear was a physical reminder of his recklessness, yet even as his ears ached, there was no regret in his eyes.

A stubborn resolve settled in his chest even though he knew he'd risked too much.

Still, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t do it again.

The only thing he could offer them was to lower his head in apology, “I’m sorry for worrying you all. But that was a last-minute, desperate act. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Lesson number 100: In the worst-case scenario, run for your life, better the fame of a coward than dying a dumb hero.”

Kamus's voice echoed through the lab, nonchalantly, as he leaned over the doorframe.

“Would you have fled, Grandmaster?” Sokram asked honestly.

“I fled many times when I was a kid, Sokram. I may look great now, but I was quite the momma’s whelp, haha.” Kamus laughed heartily.

“A bit of a crybaby, too,” Kasine added, smirking.

“But more importantly, was that I lived on for the elders who gave their lives so my generation could carry the name of the Whitefur clan into the future.”

Kamus’s expression turned nostalgic as he spoke.

“I understand, Grandmaster. Yet I can’t agree. I would never flee knowing I had the power to save those I love. Even at the cost of my life.”

Hearing his words, Hannah and the others frowned but couldn’t disagree.

Kamus only chuckled, “Hah, spoke like a true Dracnakrid; Sodram would be proud. He was as stubborn as you, but well, it’s what it is. We are who we are. As long as you can be proud of who you are, then that is a good way to live.”

Then, Kamus grinned evilly at him, “I heard you developed your own techniques for the Killing Blade Art. I knew you were holding back, but why?”

“I’m not ready to be a Master yet; I still need that training you promised me.” Sokram grinned.

“Alright, but recover first. You need to regain some of those muscles. By the way… You look quite taller. Is it a side effect?”

When Kamus asked that, all his grandmothers looked at him and realized it was true, especially Margiory, who only now realized she was looking up at him.

“I guess some sleep is good for growth." Sokram chuckled, "That or the medicine and spells you used were that good. The spell I used wouldn’t have this effect, even as a side effect.”

Kamus nodded and prepared to go back to the palace.

But before he left, Sokram still checked his and Kasine’s Cores and was surprised to see they had made so much progress without him.

“It was her,” Kasine pointed at Hannah, still pouting in the corner.

“She said she learned from you, and since it would be risky to wait for you to recover, she decided to help us.”

“Oh, right.” Sokram nodded, unsurprised.

He often shared his knowledge with Hannah the most.

Before following her husband, Kasine asked Sokram, “Has someone else seen you in the streets yet?”

“No, why?” Sokram got quite confused hearing that.

“Haha, you’re in for quite the surprise, haha,” Kasine winked at the other and began to sing.

Her voice, surprisingly finetuned and melodic, filled the lab…

“Oh, Swift Wind! Oh, Mighty Killing Blade!

Strike them down with lightning and shade!

Oh, Swift Wind! Oh, Dark Lightning Killer!

From the storm he came, Eversnow’s mighty pillar!”

It wasn't a complex tune, but a simple, catchy cadence that would stick in your head.

It started with a low hum and built into a powerful, rhythmic chant.

His grandmothers laughed at Sokram’s shocked expression, but then, somewhat exasperated, he asked, “What was that?!”

Kamus smirked at his reaction, “Swing by the Red Moon tonight, if that bard is there, you might hear it from the source, haha. See you later, kid.”

With that, Kasine and Kamus went back to the palace, leaving Sokram and his grandmothers in his lab.

Brunhild looked at Sokram, who was still dazed and couldn’t help but giggle.

“You became quite the legend, son. Even the children in the city, especially those from the slums, are dreaming of becoming like you.”

“I have a song?” Sokram frowned in disbelief.

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The words of the song echoed in his ears, a dissonant hum against the storm of thoughts in his mind.

A deep-seated disbelief that a song, a ballad of praise, could truly be about him.

His heart, a steady drumbeat of a dragon, thumped erratically in his chest, making Kamus and Kasine giggle even more.

He did not know what to think of that.

But at the same time, a strange warmth spread through his chest.

A mix of embarrassment, validation, and pride, he didn't know how to handle.

The weight of their praise felt heavy, but not in a bad way.

Fame was to him nothing but a tool, and it was never something he yearned for.

Even in his past timeline, he was rarely seen as a hero. He was feared, hated, cursed, called a villain, and a destroyer, but no one had ever sung praises to him.

That feeling was entirely new. Sokram didn’t know what to do with it.

So he did what any other dragon would do: He took a deep breath and pushed to the back of his mind.

“Well, let me get back to work.”

Sokram turned back to the casting table, where most of the ingredients he needed were already separated.

His grandmothers giggled at his reaction, seeing him shying away from something was new for them as well.

Sokram worked until the night, preparing various versions of the same solution with slight variations to give the illusion that he was looking for something.

Yet Sokram knew the exact formula he needed.

He planned to replicate the same trial he did in his first timeline.

Beginning the tests on the rats while performing guided cultivation on them, hoping they wouldn’t explode in his hand, which would be exceedingly nasty.

The versions of the solution that worked would then be tested on the goblins.

While Sokram worked, Hannah also updated him on what had truly happened that day. Everything from the Kasulla to the attack was part of the plan to free the Steelhearts.

Still, Sokram wasn’t surprised at all hearing that.

Sokram wanted to once again pull an all-nighter, but under his three grandmothers’ insistence, he left the lab to go home, eat, and rest.

The three grandmothers also had ulterior motives for dragging him out of the lab.

Instead of going home, they took him to the Red Moon.

The Red Moon wasn’t just a simple tavern.

It was the biggest and most famous one in the city, the only one profitable enough to employ the most beautiful hostess, the best cooks, spacious enough to house a small stage where the best bards in Norwinter came to perform at least once in their lives.

As the name suggests, the décor was mainly a variation of shades of red and dark wood.

With two floors, the first had corner booths aligned with every wall, with the middle space being divided by tables and a dance floor.

The second floor was partitioned into various private cabins with a view of the stage.

Those cabins were preferred by nobles, wealthy merchants, or shady individuals who aimed to provide a good distraction during business deals.

It wasn’t a place for prostitution.

The Purple Pavilion was already there for such deals, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find such company there, as even the girls of the Pavilion needed to unwind after all.

But the Red Moon Tavern was the most famous place of entertainment in the city, where most marriage proposals happened, where the people of the slums worked for months just to be able to afford celebrating significant dates there.

More than a happy-hour spot, it was also a neutral ground that no one dared to disrespect, because Red Moon was also the name of the mercenary group that owned the place.

A force with no ties to nobility, they sell their swords only on short-term contracts to merchants they believe fought for the sake of the people.

They would never join a country, noble family, or faction tied to royalty, and the only reason their headquarters were Eversnow was that this was the birthplace of most of their leading members.

The Red Moon was equipped with a small army where the weakest warrior was at the level of Uncommon Existences, and the strongest were the 12 Flawless Existences that formed their leadership.

But they, like the Pavilion, were not an organization loyal to Norwinter.

Because of this, their tavern became a hub where even the shadiest deals happened unbothered by the authorities in Eversnow.

A place where nobles, merchants, mercenaries, and even the people from the slums were treated equally as long as they had the coin to afford it.

On the way there, Sokram felt like he was the target of an exhibition.

The streets of Eversnow, bustling with life, became a gauntlet of a different kind.

The aroma of freshly baked bread from a nearby stall mixed with the crisp, freezing air of its never-ending winter gave them a homey feeling.

Yet, Sokram, with much less body mass, shivered even under his thick bear-hide coat.

The murmur of the crowd followed them, a small ripple of voice that would rise and fall as people pointed and whispered, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and gratitude.

The crunch of snow under their feet was completely muffled by the voices of the crowd.

When people saw the young dragon that saved the city walking between his beautiful and powerful grandmothers, many stopped to salute Sokram and thank him for having saved a child, a lover, or a parent during the attack.

He truly wasn’t used to it, and his three grandmothers could see that he was struggling with the attention.

Sokram's grandmothers watched him, their smiles widening.

They found it either adorable and endearing or absolutely funny to see the flush on his cheeks, the way he awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, the way he scratched the back of his head, and the attempt at holding his confident grin that always morphed into a smirk as he tried to respond to every well-wisher.

Yet finding this new side of him when he was nearing his coming of age, Sokram's grandmothers watched him, sincerely amused.

Margiory covered her mouth with a hand to hide a giggle. Brunhild's eyes sparkled with mischief, and Hannah's lips curled into an affectionate, knowing smile.

Especially when the children pointed at him and shouted, “Oh, the hero’s back!”“Look! The Dark Lightning Killer!”“You’re so strong and so awesome!”

Sokram also couldn’t help but compare the treatment he was receiving to how he was treated in his previous timeline after Kazzah had slandered him and tainted his name.

Fame was nothing but an impossible dream back then, and those who knew him showed him nothing but scorn and disgust.

Yet, now he was a hero, which showed him how fickle people's hearts could be.

Walking through the streets of the city with people treating him like that made him also think if Leona or Kamus felt the same way, because they too received such treatment.

Approaching the tavern, bursts of chatter and laughter spilled into the street, so loud it could be heard from the corner.

The scent of roast meat and honeyed mead drifted out with it, tangled with the steady melody of a lute that seemed to reach out and pull at anyone passing by.

The hulking Lion-kin bouncer, a man in a dark suit with a short mohawk and a gaze that could curdle milk, held up a hand to stop them.

He didn't even look at them, his eyes fixed on some distant point, his posture a solid wall of indifference.

“I’m sorry, ladies, but no one who is not of age can enter after the twentieth hour.”

“Oh, truly? Would Mr. Kairo agree with that?” Hannah frowned.

Her tone was condescending and aloof, as one might expect from the Duchess.

The guard finally looked at them more tentatively, and his eyes widened, “Duchess?! Lady Androny?! The Widow?! So you must be… I’m so sorry, Sir Dark Lightning! I’ll have them arrange a table right away, sir.”

“Wait,” Margiory raised a hand to stop the bouncer before he could leave, “Can’t you allow us in through the back? My grandson just woke up from a coma and has been feeling overwhelmed with the treatment he has been receiving. Besides, if Imari is singing tonight, I want him to see the people’s true reaction to that song.”

“Oh, alright, just go in the alley to the right and I’ll have someone waiting for you there.” The bouncer’s tone had become a lot more friendly, and Sokram could tell that it wasn’t because of his three grandmothers.

Which he confirmed when the bouncer saluted him, saying, “Sir, you may not remember me, and I truly hope you don’t. I was also there fighting at the gates, but it wasn’t a good look. I was losing against one of the Orcs, had already lost my weapon, but thanks to you, I didn’t lose my life.”

The bouncer bowed to him sincerely, “Thank you, you saved many of our brothers that night!”

Sokram's gaze studied the man, as his mind replayed the chaotic battle, a flash of steel and a feral roar.

He remembered the man in front of him carrying a heavy halberd, his face contorted in a grimace of effort. Trying to rush to aid Leona.

He remembered the blur of a dual-wielding axe-user orc, and the sickening thud as the halberd was ripped from the man's hands as he was caught in a sneak attack.

Sokram's words weren't just a rhetorical question; they were a recollection, a memory re-emerging from the chaos of battle. “You use a halberd, right? You rushed to aid my master, but were ambushed by that orc with two axes.”

The bouncer posture straightened up, and his eyes widened as Sokram continued, “But I don’t know what looks bad about rushing to save a companion. Anyway, thank you too. Had it not been for you guys, I wouldn’t have had the time to prepare that spell.”

The bouncer tried to keep a stoic expression as he nodded and knocked his fist over his heart, watching Sokram’s departing back with even more respect.

Yet, Sokram remained oblivious to how much his words and the fact that he remembered the bouncer moved the lion-kin, who bowed to him as he walked toward the back entrance of the Red Moon.