The next day, Roswitha returned from patrolling the borders of the Silver Dragon Clan's territory, accompanied by the Maid Squad.

There were still more than two hours until dinner, and she wanted to use this time to spend with Muen.

However, when she arrived at Muen's room, she found that the dragon girl was not there.

Roswitha then went to Leon's room—he wasn't there either.

So, both father and daughter had gone missing? Very well then.

Roswitha walked over to the balcony of her room and looked toward the training yard behind the Castle. She spotted Leon and Muen seemingly engaged in some kind of knightly game.

The two were wielding wooden sticks as if they were sacred swords, vigorously slashing at the air.

After observing for a brief moment, Roswitha noticed that Muen was wildly flailing her stick without any technique.

On the other hand, Leon appeared to be practicing each move with meticulous precision and intent, as if performing proper drills.

Seeing this, Roswitha let out a scoffing laugh. "Recovering well, aren't you, Dragon Slayer?"

With that, she turned around, left the room, and headed toward the training yard outside the Castle.

"Mom!"

The little dragoness, upon seeing her mother who had been out for the day, immediately tossed aside the wooden stick. Wagging her tail and the little tuft of hair on her head, she dashed toward Roswitha.

Roswitha bent her knees slightly and leaned down to pat Muen on her small head. "Did you listen to your daddy today while I was away?"

"Yes! Muen was very obedient! Daddy even taught me how to hold a sword properly!"

"Muen is such a good girl. How about we make your favorite pan-fried steak for dinner tonight?"

"Yay!"

"Alright then, go play."

Muen picked up her little wooden stick and happily ran off to play on her own.

Roswitha watched Muen’s figure for a while before withdrawing her gaze and turning to look at Leon.

That guy acted as if he hadn’t noticed her at all and continued practicing his slashing movements solo.

Roswitha walked toward him.

But just as she was within two meters of Leon, there was a sharp "whoosh" sound. A tree branch cleaved through the air, arcing toward her before stopping perfectly still just in front of her nose.

Roswitha neither flinched nor dodged. She didn’t even show a "startled" reaction. She simply ignored the branch right in front of her face and looked at Leon with composed indifference.

"Do you realize how disrespectful it is to point a weapon at me in Silver Dragon Castle?"

"You're calling a tree branch a weapon?"

"Oh, don't play coy. Weren’t you once the strongest Dragon Slayer? Doesn’t matter if it’s a branch or even a leaf—in your hands, they’re all lethal weapons, aren’t they?"

"Listen here, old dragon. If you're going to compliment me, just do it properly. What’s with the backhanded remarks?"

Leon tossed the tree branch aside and walked to a nearby bench to sit down.

Roswitha followed and sat beside him.

Leon glanced at her and then scooted to the side a bit.

As evening approached, the setting sun hung low in the distance, painting the sky in burning hues of red.

The waning light stretched their shadows long and distorted across the ground. Both of them sat silently, gazing at the sun as it prepared to plunge below the horizon, seemingly intent on savoring the final moments of the day.

"You came to the training yard to play with Muen because you miss Noa, don’t you?" Roswitha suddenly broke the silence.

Leon rubbed his nose and grunted softly, offering no reply.

He sat there quietly, staring at the track in the training yard—the same track where Noa used to run lap after lap for endurance training until she was utterly spent and collapsed with exhaustion.

Now, a few small birds Leon couldn't name were hopping and fluttering along that same track.

"Noa wrote me a letter yesterday.”

Hearing this, Leon finally reacted. He turned his head to look at Roswitha.

"She said she’s been doing fine these past few days and told us not to worry about her."

After a brief pause, Leon couldn’t help but ask, "That’s it?"

Roswitha nodded. "That’s it. You know what Noa is like. The fact that she went out of her way to write home and reassure us has already surprised me."

Leon fell into thought for a moment before commenting, "She’s a lot like you."

"Like me how?"

"She doesn’t like showing her emotions too openly. Always wears that stern little face, making it hard for people to guess what she’s actually thinking."

Roswitha smiled faintly. "Perhaps. But do you remember what I told you before—that Noa is actually a very good child?"

"I remember."

"After all this time, what do you think?"

"You were right. Noa is great—smart, too. As long as you approach her the right way, getting along with her is actually quite easy."

"Mm… Well, let me tell you a little secret. Noa once told me that being around you gives her a bit of pressure."

Leon raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "Why would she feel pressured?"

"I told her that her dad was an academic overachiever in school. And judging by how you teach her, it’s clear you used to be top of your class, winning scholarships and trophies left and right."

Roswitha continued, "Noa has a very typical Dragon Clan mentality—admiring and aspiring to be like the strong. In her eyes, you are... well, just that—a strong person."

Leon scratched his cheek. "Huh. I thought she’d see me as some lame bookworm dad."

Roswitha covered her mouth and chuckled softly. "Not at all. She actually admires you quite a lot."

Pa-thump—

Roswitha kicked off her high heels, curled up her long legs, wrapped her arms around her knees, and rested her bare feet lightly on the edge of the bench.

"Remember how, right after you woke up, Noa kept avoiding you and refused to see you?"

Leon nodded.

"At the time, I didn’t quite understand what was going through her mind either. But what I do know is that during your coma, she often snuck off to the nursery to check on you. If I caught her, she’d make up some excuse like she was there to look for Muen."

Leon clicked his tongue, offering an honest observation. "She’s got that same stubborn denial as you."

"Excuse me? That stubbornness is more like you, thank you very much."

"Me, stubborn? Don’t make me laugh. I always speak my mind. When have I ever been stubborn?"

"Hmph, well, I’ve never been stubborn either."

"Agreed. Neither have I."

Roswitha lowered her gaze and continued softly.

"But anyway, speaking of blood ties... they’re kind of strange, aren’t they?"

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"Back when you were still in a coma, for those two years… I was raising the two girls on my own. Sometimes I was overwhelmed. Even Anna and the others couldn’t help much; they cried and cried no matter what we did."

Roswitha smiled faintly. "But guess what? No matter how much they fussed, the moment we put them next to you, they would quiet down instantly."

Leon’s heart swelled with a subtle joy. He couldn’t contain his curiosity. "Really?"

"Really. At the time, they didn’t understand anything, but it felt as though just being near you gave them this deep sense of security."

Roswitha fiddled with her fingers, exhaling softly. She asked, "Daughters are adorable, aren’t they?"

For once, Leon wholeheartedly agreed. He nodded vigorously.

Blood ties, indeed. Even before they were consciously aware of them, those bonds already bound them tightly together.

Of course, amid his quiet contemplation, Leon also felt a strange, unfamiliar sense of comfort rise within him.

Leon, after all, had been adopted by his master at the age of five.

Before that, he’d had no concept of "home," let alone "family."

Those formative years were crucial for any child. If one couldn’t feel the intense love of their parents during that time, even a prosperous life later would always feel like something was missing.

Perhaps this was why Leon now poured so much of his love into his daughters—because he understood so well what it felt like not to have it.

These girls were the price he had paid through life-and-death struggles, a price he bore willingly.

Roswitha smiled. "Alright then, when Noa comes home on her next vacation, let’s prepare her a big feast."

"Sounds good."

The last sliver of sunlight vanished beyond the horizon, and darkness descended.

Roswitha stretched contentedly, letting out a little hum. "Alright, time to head back."

"Mm."

"Wait a minute."

"What now?"

Roswitha pointed to the high heels she’d earlier discarded on the ground. "Put my shoes on for me."

"..."

"What’s the matter? You’re reluctant? Don’t make me bring up that kiss you stole at the entrance ceremony—haven’t settled that score with you yet. And now you’re saying no to helping me with my shoes?"

"Fine, fine. I’ll do it."

Leon squatted down, one hand gently holding Roswitha’s delicate foot while the other grabbed her high heel, trying to carefully slip it on for her.

"Pretty skilled, aren’t you?" Roswitha remarked.

"Of course. This is way easier than shoeing a mule."

Roswitha promptly kicked him in the face.

Leon: Dodging!