The concept of "revenge" held by the Dragon Clan has long troubled human scholars specializing in dragon studies.

Leon had heard of it before.

Their revenge is a fusion of "obsession," "extremity," and "manifestations that go beyond human comprehension"—a distinctly non-human behavior.

So regardless of how the Dragon Clan might exact their revenge—no matter how unexpected—Leon wouldn't be surprised.

But this?

Two years ago, I impregnated you in one shot just to disgust you.

Two years later, you want to do the same to me?

Your Majesty, isn't this approach a bit... too wild?

But given the circumstances, there was no time for Leon to analyze Roswitha's revenge tactics.

Her silver tail was already arched high behind her, a telltale sign of the Dragon Clan's excitement.

And excitement does not merely encompass the kind of happiness and cheer seen in little Muen earlier.

Other behaviors can also trigger the silver-haired Dragon Clan's "excitement."

For example... a certain kind of Two-Person Exercise.

"Roswitha, either kill me outright, or give me a blade so we can have a proper duel."

If Roswitha were to genuinely engage in a fair one-on-one with him—a true fight between human and dragon—he would gladly accept.

Even though he knew full well that, in his current state, he was no match for Roswitha, he was willing to fight to the last breath to protect the honor and dignity of a Dragon Slayer.

And the reality?

Technically, this was a one-on-one duel between a human and a dragon, except the battle's method and setting were entirely...

Roswitha completely ignored Leon's plea. Her tail pressed him down, rendering him immobile.

Realizing this, Leon continued to make a desperate attempt to awaken the rare flicker of knightly spirit buried within Roswitha.

"Your Majesty... you can kill a Dragon Slayer, but you mustn't humiliate one. Forcing me to... to do this sort of thing with you is the greatest insult you could inflict upon me!"

Roswitha's eyes remained half-shut, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks as her body rhythmically swayed in tune with her breathing.

"If doing this sort of thing with a Dragon Clan member is 'humiliation' for you Dragon Slayers, then back when you used Blood Enchantment on me two years ago, you should’ve foreseen that today would come."

"I—I thought I was going to die then; that's the only reason I—"

"I don't care for your excuses, Leon. Since you yourself claim it’s humiliating for you, I’m even more determined to follow through with my revenge this time."

"Roswitha, you—"

"Shhh~~~"

Roswitha pressed a finger gently against Leon's lips.

Her eyelids slowly lifted, and her upturned dragon pupils gleamed with an unsettling mixture of tenderness and something more ambiguous.

Leon stared at her, dumbfounded.

Though Roswitha's gaze seemed brimming with affection, Leon knew the truth: it was merely a reaction induced by the present circumstances.

What she called "affection" was nothing more than the biological instinct triggering such behaviors.

Roswitha herself had already admitted—this wasn’t love. This was humiliation. This was revenge.

"Now then—"

Her tone dropped, each word laced with the victorious delight of a predator claiming its prize. "Let’s... begin~."

Leon squeezed his eyes shut, mustering every ounce of willpower to restrain his body's natural reactions.

But it was futile.

For a normal man, resisting under such conditions was an impossible task.

Even worse, his heightened biological instincts, stimulated by this intense situation, were viciously clashing with his reason as Dragon Slayer inside his mind.

On one side was the innate reproductive drive buried deep within a male's psyche.

On the other side stood the honor and pride of a dragon slayer.

They were like light and darkness, doomed to collide, with annihilation as the only possible outcome—there could be no coexistence.

Meanwhile, Roswitha was striding ever further down her path of revenge.

Calling it "revenge" almost seemed like an understatement. It was more an ecstatic spree of degrading humiliation.

For centuries, an unbridgeable chasm of enmity had existed between the noble Dragon Clan and the "lowly" humans. Their dynamic had long since crystallized as a matter of kill-or-be-killed.

This was even truer for them, representing high-ranking members of their respective factions.

One was the Silver Dragon Queen.

The other, a renowned human hero.

Now, their battleground had shifted from rugged highlands to a spacious and soft bed.

The roars of combat had been replaced by languid, suggestive murmurs.

The weapons they wielded? No longer swords and blades, but a far more intimate arsenal—their very bodies.

This was nothing less than pure humiliation for the once-mighty Dragon Slayer known as Leon.

Yet, was it not equally degrading for Roswitha herself?

But ah, the ways of the Dragon Clan—when it comes to vengeance, they remain forever beyond the comprehension of humans.

The battle raged on in a different sense, with Roswitha pushing relentlessly forward on her vindictive endeavor.

Desperate to preserve even a shred of his dignity, Leon forcibly turned his head away.

But Roswitha grabbed his chin, tilting his face, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"Don't be shy now, brave Dragon Slayer."

"You've fought countless battles over so many years and might never have had the chance to experience such... intimacy with a she-dragon. Yet here you are, living it."

"Open your eyes, Leon. Look at me. Look at us. Look at the state we're in."

"Pathetic, depraved, utterly corrupt. A human and a dragon, bound together... Isn't it absurd?"

"But everything you're seeing—that's my revenge, Leon. I'll crush your dignity and pride into dust beneath me!"

The deranged Queen’s appearance was strikingly beautiful—more so than usual.

...

The heated fray eventually reached its peak. After centuries of strife between these two great races, they had, at long last, tasted something close to paradise together.

Roswitha tilted her head toward the ceiling, basking in the lingering warmth. Her silvered hair spilled down like a river of starlight.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, growing into something unnervingly manic.

"Look at you, the great Dragon Slayer Leon, being drained dry by the very Dragon Clan you despise. Do you feel humiliated yet? Powerless? Oh... hahaha... HAHAHAHA—"

Leon, who had just recently awakened from two years of coma-induced weakness, already teetered at the brink of collapse after this ordeal.

Cold sweat trickled down the back of his head. The world seemed to spin and blur each time he closed his eyes.

Any attempt to reason with Roswitha seemed hopeless at this point, so he roared in frustration instead:

"Just kill me already, Roswitha! You’ve had your revenge—now do it! Finish the job!"

Two years ago, when Leon had thought he was standing on the edge of death, he'd seized the chance to humiliate Roswitha.

But Roswitha ended up saving him, only to put him through some insane SM madness.

For a proud human hero, this was a fate worse than death.

Roswitha dropped her sweet facade entirely. "Kill you? Hmph. Do you think one single moment of shared indulgence is enough to erase the damage you inflicted on me?"

"Roswitha, what more do you—"

"I want you alive, Leon. I want you alive and well."

The queen leaned forward, her face mere inches from Leon’s. Silken strands of her hair gently brushed against his ear.

"You need to live, Leon, so you can continue feeling this shame."

"I intend for you to spend the rest of your miserable life steeped in humiliation, great Dragon Slayer. Understand? For the rest of your life, you'll live under my unrelenting scorn and mockery!"

"Should you ever think of ending it all when I let my guard down—should suicide even cross your mind—"

Roswitha paused to let her statement sink in before delivering her next words like a death knell.

"—Know this: I’ll pull every string at my disposal to revive you, no matter what it takes. Even if you chop your head clean off, I’ll bring you back."

"You'll remain alive—forever under my heel, bound to this shameful existence."

"Leon Casmod, until I am fully satisfied, no one—not even you—will be allowed to take your life."

Her malicious laughter filled the room, devoid now of the warmth and tenderness she'd feigned earlier.

What replaced it was a sick, unhinged glee—a sort of deranged pride born from conquering her adversary.

"And furthermore!"

Her laughter cut off abruptly, her eyes growing wide and crazed as if insanity had consumed her entirely.

"I’ll make sure to leave my mark on you."

"For the Dragon Clan, such a mark is an unparalleled honor. Many a mighty male Dragon King would do anything to claim it."

"But only you, Leon—only you—will bear it."

"Because for you, this mark doesn’t signify honor in the slightest."

"It’ll be a symbol of shame—a constant reminder that you belong to me, my eternal prisoner, chained to my side for all eternity."

With that, she extended her right hand, a silver-colored magic circle glowing to life in her palm.

Simultaneously, she used her other hand to tear open the fabric covering Leon's chest.

"Roswitha... Stop it, I beg you... Don't do this..."

"I'll teach you exactly what happens when you dare to offend Roswitha!"

Her words marked the moment she pressed her palm into his chest—the magic circle leaving its searing imprint on his skin.

It didn’t hurt, not exactly—there was only a faint, lingering heat.

Leon clenched his jaw, biting his lip, his fists trembling uselessly at his sides.

In his current state, he couldn’t muster the strength to resist.

Powerless, he could only watch as this mad dragoness imprinted her deranged vengeance onto his body.

After what felt like an eternity, Roswitha withdrew her hand.

With a flick of her wrist, a mirror from the bedside table flew into her grasp. Holding it with both hands, she angled the reflection to show Leon his chest.

There it was.

A silver winged dragon adorned with heart-like embellishments—a "Dragon Mark."

Clearly symbolic of "love."

Without a shred of hesitation, Roswitha hurled the mirror to the floor, shattering it with resounding finality.

Immediately after, she tore open her collar, revealing half of her soft, exposed chest.

Leon saw the same emblem mirrored on her skin.

"A Dragon Mark," she began with deliberate slowness,"activates whenever the bonded partners feel longing for one another."

"And no, as you might suspect, I’m not referring to 'longing' in some innocent sense."

"Your human dragonologists are well aware of the meaning this emblem carries."

"And should you one day manage to escape back to the Empire,” she added, voice dripping with derision,“I genuinely won’t be concerned in the slightest."

"Because if your fellow humans saw the Dragon Mark on you, guess what... would you still be the great Dragon Slayer in their eyes?"

Roswitha let out a snort of laughter, got dressed, and climbed out of bed.

She tidied her slightly messy hair, slipped on her high heels, and walked toward the door.

Leon closed his eyes, thinking the day had come to an end.

Unfortunately, it hadn't.

"I’m going to prepare something for my daughter to eat. Tonight... we’ll continue."