Three days later.

“Is he dead?”

Noa stood on the bed and raised her foot, kicking Leon’s head.

Little Muen hopped twice by the side of the bed. “Sister, you can’t kick father like that. It’s rude.”

“Adults are talking. Kids shouldn’t butt in.”

“Hmph!”

Muen turned to look at Roswitha, who was standing off to the side. “Mother, Father was fine a few days ago. Why did he suddenly faint again?”

Roswitha stared at Leon, her face expressionless.

“Maybe it’s a sudden illness.”

Who the hell knew why this guy suddenly lost his mind three nights ago, pinning Roswitha down and taking her with reckless abandon.

Roswitha had clearly warned him: if you dare pull something like this, I swear I’ll kill you when it’s over.

Leon surely understood the consequences of what he was doing.

But he still did it.

And he had a damn good time doing it.

Did Roswitha let him get away with it? Absolutely not.

She punched him.

And to her surprise, that one punch knocked him out for three whole days.

“Father isn’t going to sleep for another two years like last time, is he?” Muen asked, both worried and despairing. “If he does, I’ll be a big grown-up dragon by then! He won’t be able to hold me anymore!”

“No matter how big you get, he’ll still be able to carry you.”

Noa stomped on Leon’s face with her tiny foot. “I think he’s faking it.”

“Alright, you two go play elsewhere,” Roswitha said.

“Yes, Mother.”

Noa turned and prepared to jump off the bed.

But after thinking about it, she decided to step directly over Leon’s stomach instead.

Muen gasped and covered her eyes.

If Father didn’t wake up after being stepped on so many times, maybe he really wasn’t faking it...

After they climbed off the bed, Noa pulled Muen out of the room.

Muen glanced back wistfully at her unconscious father. “Daddy, when you wake up, remember to wash your face...”

Click—

The two little dragon girls left the room.

Roswitha continued to stare icily at Leon.

“If you keep pretending, the next thing stomping your stomach won’t be Noa’s foot.”

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW—stop!”

Springing up as if resurrected, Leon clutched his stomach and rolled back and forth on the bed.

“That kid may be small, but she sure knows how to kick hard.”

“Dragon Clan bones are denser than human bones. You didn’t notice that when you carried Muen?”

“I noticed.”

“So why did you ask?”

“Because I wanted to. Did I force you to answer?”

“...Just go ahead and die, Leon.”

Roswitha raised her hand, conjuring a flash of magical energy.

Leon quickly grabbed a pillow to shield himself.

Even though he knew the pillow wouldn’t be any help against magic powerful enough to level a mountain, he figured it’d at least let him die a little more comfortably.

Roswitha gave a cold snort and waved away the energy in her hand.

Realizing there was no real threat, Leon slowly lowered the pillow.

Of course, he already knew Roswitha wouldn’t actually kill him.

If she wanted to, she’d have done it long ago. Why wait until he woke up?

Still, after that incident three days ago, Roswitha had knocked him out cold, and he’d been sleeping for three days straight.

Technically, he wasn’t so weak that he should have passed out like that.

But all the energy he had been building up recently had been thoroughly drained in his “revenge” against Roswitha that night.

And after his revenge, his stamina bar was completely empty.

Forget Roswitha’s punch—he wouldn’t have even been able to take Noa’s kick.

“Care to tell me what was going through your mind at the time?” Roswitha asked.

“What was I thinking? I thought about how a Dragon Slayer like me should use whatever means necessary to take down a Dragon King. Hard to understand?”

“You’re still thinking about fighting back?”

“Why not?”

Leon’s rebellious and defiant response was so striking that he fully expected Roswitha to give him another harsh lesson.

But to his surprise, her expression reflected more astonishment than anger.

After a moment of stunned silence, Roswitha gave a faint smile.

“Fine then. You’ve got guts, Dragon Slayer.”

The way she said “Dragon Slayer” carried a seriousness that was completely different from the mockery and disdain she’d shown during the banquet that night.

Leon figured she must have realized that it was precisely her scorn that had driven him to do something so reckless.

So, after this latest incident, it seemed that this dragon queen might start being a bit more wary of him.

“Not gonna lie, Leon, you truly deserve the title of ‘strongest.’”

Strength didn’t just mean physical prowess—it included the strength of one’s will, too.

Roswitha genuinely admired Leon for his unwavering determination to defend his dignity and principles.

Of course, such determination would make it all the more entertaining for Roswitha to continue tormenting him in her own special way in the future.

The more he resisted, the more fun she’d have.

“Thanks for the compliment.”

See that, everyone?

Family status has to be earned, not given!

This round was a victory for Leon—a victory for humanity!

Someone, please carve the words “Leon Triumphed” into the outer walls of Silver Dragon Castle. Thank you.

“Alright, stop grinning like an idiot. Get dressed. We’re going out.”

“Hm? Going out? For what?”

“I promised you that if you taught Muen to write her name, I’d let you go out and walk with me.”

Leon raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you really keep your word?”

Roswitha chuckled. “Think of it like walking a dog. Plus, we’ll make an appearance in front of the clan to reinforce our image as a couple, so they don’t start getting suspicious.”

With that, she turned toward the wardrobe and tossed a few outfits onto the bed.

As Leon got dressed, he casually asked, “You’re a Dragon King. Do you really care about what your subordinates say?”

“If you’re going to act, commit to the role completely.”

“Alright, alright. Whatever you say.”

Leon suddenly paused mid-action, then asked, “So... you’re letting that whole thing from three days ago slide?”

Roswitha, still facing away from him, curled her lips into a sly smile upon hearing his question.

“Of course.”

Of course not.

As if a proud Silver Dragon Queen would just let that slide.

Leon gave a satisfied nod. “Good to know.”

“Hurry up. Get dressed. We’re heading down soon.”

“Got it.”

About ten minutes later, Leon and Roswitha walked out of Silver Dragon Castle side by side.

The silver-scaled members of the Dragon Clan outside stared at the sight in astonishment.

If they remembered correctly, wasn’t this the first time their queen and her husband had made a public appearance together?

Even their marriage had been a secret, with no formal announcements made—because that’s how the queen wanted it.

She had explained that this male Dragon King was an ideal husband: no smoking, no drinking, no fooling around.

Then soon after their wedding, he fell into a sudden coma for two whole years.

And the queen had said, “It’s fine. I love him, he loves me, and we’ll live our lives in peace and harmony.”

The queen had said...

Well, whatever. Who cared what she had said?

What mattered was that she was finally out with her mysterious husband, taking a sunny stroll, and the clansmen could hardly contain their curiosity.

The onlookers weren’t just the dragons gathered below, but also the two little ones peeking from above.

“Look! Sister, look! Father and Mother are walking together!” Muen leaned over the balcony railing, excitedly pointing to the two figures in the courtyard.

Noa glanced briefly at them. Though she also wanted to keep watching, she quickly turned away and said, “What’s so great about that?”

“But they’re such a perfect match, Sister.”

“Oh.”

Seeing her sister’s lack of enthusiasm, Muen decided to entertain herself by making up a little tongue twister.

“Daddy loves Mommy, loves Muen, and loves Sister too~”

Noa froze for a moment, raising an eyebrow and snorting lightly. “Loves me?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Loves me... but he didn’t even know my name. And he loves me?”

Muen blinked, then jumped down from the railing and turned to face Noa. “Sister’s name...”

“Yes. You were the one who told him, remember? If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t even know what my name is. Hmph. Even after learning it, it’s like he doesn’t care at all.”

Muen’s pupils trembled slightly as if recalling something. She immediately rummaged through her pockets.

“Ah, found it! Look, Sister!”

She pulled out a piece of scrap paper, on which a name was written:

Noa·K·Melkevi.

The handwriting was neat and elegant, displaying a level of care and precision.

“Not bad, little Muen,” Noa praised.

“Daddy wrote it.”

“Awful handwriting.”

Muen: ...

“One heavy stroke after another; the paper’s practically torn. The pen strokes are stiff, not fluid at all. And look at this K; its proportions are completely off. It’s just plain ugly.” Noa rattled off her criticisms like a little firecracker.

Muen lowered her head, fiddling with her fingers. “If you don’t like it, Sister, can I have it back...?”

“No, I’m keeping it. This kind of ugly writing could ruin your taste in penmanship.” Noa said it with a straight face, sounding entirely serious.

“Oh... Okay. I’m going out to play now.”

Muen toddled off with her tiny footsteps, leaving the room.

After confirming her sister was gone, Noa sneaked over to her bed, bent down, and pulled out a dusty wooden box.

She blew the dust off, retrieved a key, and unlocked the small padlock on the box.

Inside was a fragment of black metal.

Noa carefully placed the paper bearing her name into the box.

Then she locked it, slid it back under the bed, and scampered back to the balcony to peer down at the pair below.

Her gaze rested on Leon's back.

After a long pause, she whispered to herself,

"Do you really love us?"