Leon felt that he was only one step away from winning the championship, yet ironically, he fell in the quarterfinals due to carelessness and underestimating his opponents.

The moment he shut the door, he laughed.

But that laugh, just a minute later, passed onto Roswitha's face.

The worst part? He had willingly stripped off his clothes and climbed into Roswitha's bed—

He even spared her the trouble of undressing him!

This was practically offering himself up on a silver platter.

Back when he first enrolled in the Dragon Slayer Academy, the very first lesson taught by the instructors was to never let your guard down around the Dragon Clan.

That lesson had saved Leon countless times on the battlefield. Yet who would’ve thought he’d screw it up at such a critical juncture?

In truth, after the antics he'd pulled in the past few days, no masterstroke from Roswitha after the fact would surprise Leon.

But—

Was tying him to a chair a little too extreme?

Especially when he was shirtless.

The Dragon Mark on his chest was left blatantly exposed to the air.

Roswitha sat on the desk, her elegant legs crossed, dangling a pair of dragon-wing-patterned slippers from her toes leisurely.

She held a small whip in her hand—who knows where she got that from—and was eying Leon with a playful smirk.

Leon’s gaze slowly shifted from the whip to her face. Unable to help himself, he finally asked:

"You're not planning to... interrogate me, are you?"

"Listen, Dragoness, let me make this clear: I’ve undergone rigorous counter-interrogation training. I won’t reveal a single thing about the Empire.”

"If you plan to use force—my answer to you will be just four words: go to he—"

Roswitha hopped down from the desk and walked over, poking his face with the tip of the whip. "Shh~ Quiet now."

As she spoke, Roswitha glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall.

8 p.m.

After taking note of the time, she began pacing back and forth in front of Leon, as if anticipating something—or waiting for a certain moment.

Leon decided not to converse further with her.

He had no intention of trying to talk his way out of this predicament to gain Roswitha’s mercy.

He knew this Dragoness’s nature all too well—this night, he was doomed. Tomorrow would be no different.

Roswitha's revenge was like an arrow once loosed from the bow; there was no stopping it.

Around 9 p.m., someone knocked on the door.

Leon prayed fervently that it was Muen.

If so, maybe—just maybe—he could escape tonight's ordeal!

Roswitha went to the entryway to answer the door.

"Your Majesty."

Well.

Those two words shattered Leon's fleeting hope.

The one knocking wasn’t an angel of salvation—it was death incarnate.

"This is the medicine you asked me to prepare," Anna handed a small brown pill to Roswitha.

Roswitha nodded, "Good, thank you for your trouble."

“Not at all, Your Majesty.”

After Anna bowed and departed, Roswitha returned to the bedroom. Standing beside Leon, she pinched the pill—bearing a striking resemblance to a piece of chocolate candy—between her thumb and index finger, slowly holding it in front of Leon’s eyes.

"Do you remember what this is, Leon?"

She leaned in close, so close that their noses nearly touched. The small “chocolate” pill dangled precariously between their gazes.

Leon was all too familiar with this object.

"The Black Dragon Bolus..."

Roswitha’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling up. "That’s right, Black Dragon Bolus. But this one is a little different from the ones you’ve crafted before."

As she spoke, she gently pressed a finger against his lips, applying a slight force in an attempt to pry his mouth open.

"This Black Dragon Bolus is purer, its effects stronger. Even the Dragon King would struggle to fully digest its potency."

"I’ve been so touched by everything you’ve done these past few days—bathing me, feeding me, staying by my side as I slept day and night."

"You must be exhausted from all that hard work, right? So, I spared no expense to get this refined Black Dragon Bolus for you, to help you recover."

"Come, my dear husband, open wide. Let me feed it to you."

Leon tilted his head back as far as it could go, nearly stretching his neck all the way to the Castle’s forecourt. His entire body leaned back, causing the chair to tip onto its back two legs.

But Roswitha lifted her leg, pressing her knee against the center of the chair to push him back into an upright position.

"What’s wrong? Don't like it?" Roswitha tilted her head, feigning innocence.

"I’ve quit. It’s bad for my health."

"That’s a hurtful thing to say! As your wife, would I give you something that’s bad for you? Be good, just take it. It won’t harm you, I promise."

As she finished speaking, Roswitha leaned close to Leon’s ear and lowered her voice.

"You have two options: comply, or I’ll just use other means to force your mouth open."

Dragoness, you’re too cruel!

Seeing Leon’s look of resignation, Roswitha smiled in satisfaction, "Good boy. Open your mouth."

Reluctantly, Leon parted his lips ever so slightly. Roswitha pressed on his lower lip, slipping the Black Dragon Bolus into his mouth bit by bit.

Then, she lifted his chin, forcing him to swallow.

The intense medicinal taste hit like a punch to the nostrils, and Leon began to cough violently.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, did I make you choke?"

Feigning concern, Roswitha grabbed a glass of water from the side and held it to Leon's lips.

But as the liquid slid down his throat, Leon frowned. "This isn’t water... What is it?"

"Leon, how clever of you to notice. It’s an auxiliary drink that helps your body absorb the medicine faster."

Leon was utterly broken.

He had always been clear about his place in life.

And right now, his identity could be summed up in two words:

A plaything.

Something even more humiliating than a prisoner.

Roswitha set the cup aside and then climbed onto his lap with deliberate slowness.

A light fragrance enveloped him. Her breasts pressed gently against his collarbone.

This intoxicating sensation likely worked better as a stimulant than any so-called auxiliary drink.

She reached out her arm, draping it casually over Leon’s shoulder. Lowering her head, she gazed into his eyes with lids half-closed.

"Can you feel it, Leon? The Black Dragon Bolus dissolving in your stomach, its effects beginning to take hold?"

"In a minute, you’ll feel a feverish heat washing over you, desperate to find some way to relieve it."

"In two minutes, that heat will peak, along with an overwhelming desire."

"By the third minute, the medicine will be fully absorbed. You’ll start babbling nonsense, completely surrendering to me."

She gently tilted his chin upward, her nails brushing his trembling lips. Smiling, she asked, "But I can help you, Leon. I can relieve your pain. Only a Dragon King’s body can endure such a storm of cravings. All you have to do is... beg me."

Leon clenched his lower lip tightly. Speaking each word with grim determination, he retorted, "In your dreams!"

"Why so hostile? I’m offering to help you. All it takes is one sentence, and you won’t have to suffer through the torment—wouldn’t that be better?"

"I will never beg you, Dragoness. That’s the pride of a Dragon Slayer—"

"In that case, enjoy our old friend, ‘Black Dragon Bolus.’"

With that final remark, Roswitha stepped back and deliberately placed a clock in front of Leon, ensuring he could see the time.

"It’s almost one minute. Let the fire build, my dear husband~"

Leon balled his hands into fists, his breathing unsteady with both tension and dread. Cold sweat dripped from his brow and the tip of his nose.

His eyes remained fixated on the clock in front of him.

Tick-tock—tick-tock—tick-tock—

Every second that passed felt like another inch closer to being clawed apart by desire.

One minute passed...

Leon’s heartbeat quickened to its peak, and a burning heat flared in his stomach.

Two minutes passed...

His nerves were pulled taut as he struggled to suppress every discomforting physical reaction.

Three minutes—

Leon yelled with defiance, eyes shut tight, "Roswitha, I’m not afraid of you! I AM THE MASTER OF RESTRAINT!!!"

"Pfft—HAHAHAHAHA!"

Roswitha, clutching the clock, crouched on the ground and burst into laughter.

She buried her face in the crook of her arm as her shoulders shook uncontrollably.

Leon was dumbfounded by her sudden outburst.

Wait.

Wasn’t he supposed to become... a slave to unbearable desire?

Why was it that... aside from sweating a bit, there were no other symptoms?

"You Dragoness... YOU PLAYED ME!"

Roswitha laughed even harder, nearly rolling on the floor.

Manipulating everything to her whim—how very like her.

Roswitha forced herself to rein in her laughter, managing a semblance of composure.

She perched on her heels, resting her chin on her hand like an innocent little girl. "Leon, you really won’t beg me?"

"Tch, I’ve said it before: even if I, Leon Casmod, die out here, I will never beg you!"

Roswitha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure?"

"Of course I’m sure! How could a Dragon Slayer ever bow to a Dragon King? Never—absolutely never!"

"Well then, if you can’t control yourself and end up begging me, pleading with me, what should we do?"

"Hah! If I ever do that, you can make me your slave, drag me through the mud—I’ll submit without a single complaint. But let me tell you, that is absolutely, absolutely, absolutely impossible!"

Roswitha nodded, her lips curling slightly. "Good. That’s exactly what I was waiting for. Now, let me show you something."

With that, Roswitha stood and walked slowly to Leon, bending down slightly so her chin rested on his shoulder.

Then, extending her hand in front of him, palm upturned, she began to gather magical energy.

The energy coalesced into a sphere, and when the radiance faded, a crystal ball appeared in her hand.

"What is this..."

"A Recording Stone, a small magical gadget."

Leon swallowed nervously, feeling the warm breath on the back of his neck. "What...what does it do?"

"Hmm...before I demonstrate its functions, I need to prepare a few things. Be good and wait for me, okay? Don't run off."

Leon glanced at the ropes tied around him.

Run?

Where could he possibly run to?

Roswitha, you're the kind who could call a giant dragon "my little darling"—what a way to make small talk.

He watched as Roswitha rummaged through the room.

She moved to the wardrobe, flipping through it piece by piece.

Finally, buried under a pile of rarely worn clothes, she found a pair of...

Black stockings.

"Huh? I thought I never wore these after I bought them? How are they opened?"

Roswitha muttered but didn't dwell on it.

After all, a wardrobe as large as a queen's was impossible to completely keep track of.

She tugged at the stockings, testing the elasticity and translucency—it was just right.

Perfect for—

"Blindfolding me? Why do you need to blindfold me? And...what's that in your hand?"

"My stockings. To be precise, black stockings," Roswitha replied. "Don't worry, I've never worn them. They're clean."

Leon: Are you kidding me? You think I don't know if you've worn them or not?

Wasn't that the pair you used last week when you dressed up as a Bunny Girl?!

"No, Roswitha... If you're going to blindfold me with those, you might as well just kill me on the spot."

Leon swallowed hard.

To Roswitha, these stockings were unworn.

But to him, these stockings had definitely been...on her!

I don't have any weird fetishes! Take those things away!

"Ugh, what's there to be shy about? They're just black stockings. Here we go~"

"Stop! No!"

Despite Leon shaking his head as hard as he could, Roswitha pinned him down with her tail, immobilizing him.

Then, she wrapped one stocking around his eyes, encircling them several times.

For a trained Dragon Slayer, losing his sense of sight only heightened the rest of his senses to an unsettling degree.

Sometimes Leon cursed himself: Why had he been so diligent in his training? Why?!

Roswitha's fingertips brushed against his cheek, her breath tickling behind his ears—soft and teasing, making his skin prickle with unease.

"Alright, we're ready. Now then...Recording Stone, activate!"

Leon couldn't see how this so-called Recording Stone was activated.

But in the next moment, a voice filled with pleading and earnestness echoed softly:

"Please...I really want to kiss you..."

Leon's heart clenched.

That single opening line hit him like a lightning bolt.

He was completely frozen, his body tingling and half-numb.

And what followed only made him feel like ants were crawling all over his skin.

"Roswitha, I want to kiss you...please, let me..."

"Oh, you might not have heard that clearly. Let's listen again."

As she spoke, Roswitha replayed the words:

"Please...let me..."

"Mm~ That's so delightful~ Once more~"

"Please...Roswitha..."

After several repetitions, Roswitha could distinctly feel someone trembling.

She just wasn’t sure if it was out of fear...or frustration.

Seeing that the effect was almost achieved, Roswitha removed the black stocking from his eyes.

"Well, how was that? Does that voice sound familiar?" Roswitha asked with a smile.

Leon pursed his lips. Even though both of them knew the truth, he still attempted to deny it. "It—it's just a voice that happens to sound like mine. That doesn't prove it was me who said those things."

"Oh? Alright then, let's continue."

With that, Roswitha activated the Recording Stone again. The surface of the stone began to glow, projecting a beam of light that formed a flat image.

At once, the visuals from that fateful night of Blood Enchantment began playing.

On screen, Leon was leaning back against the sofa, his expression one of deep satisfaction and heartfelt longing.

"Roswitha... Please, I want to kiss you... Let me..."

Roswitha sighed. "Ah, perhaps it's just a coincidence. Maybe this person just happens to sound and look exactly like you. This definitely can't be you, right?"

Leon was utterly fried.

He now felt that simple physical retaliation alone no longer satisfied Roswitha.

This dragoness had moved on to emotional warfare!

He couldn't keep up with Roswitha's ever-evolving methods!

But he wasn't entirely without a counterattack...

If he could just find the chance to retrieve that camera with the photos of her in the Bunny Girl outfit... Leon just might have a shot at turning the tables.

Seeing Leon remain silent, Roswitha put away the Recording Stone and pretended to ponder. "Oh, what was it you said earlier?"

She leaned in close to Leon's face, her tongue lightly flicking against his flushed earlobe.

"To serve me earnestly, without complaint, and then...to let...me...do...as...I...please."

Roswitha chuckled softly. "Well then, I'll take that as permission."

She stepped in front of Leon, raising one shapely leg to rest on the space between his thighs. With a small riding crop in her hand, she smiled and narrowed her eyes.

"First off, let's review today's lesson a few more times. If you can’t remember clearly, your teacher here is more than happy to explain it again~."