The doctors voluntarily left Roswitha’s bedroom.

The two little ones also obediently waited aside, leaving this rare tranquility for their parents.

Beside the grand bed, one man and one dragon stared at each other.

After holding each other's gaze for a while, Leon's eyes fell on the newborn baby.

He opened his mouth, wanting to ask something.

But there were too many questions; for a moment, he didn’t know where to begin.

Ten minutes ago, he had been a resolute and decisive war god, dominating the battlefield. But now, faced with his wife who had just given birth and their baby, he seemed hesitant and clumsy.

Leon had never welcomed the birth of a new life before.

To be honest, this was his first time experiencing the thrill of “I’m officially a dad!”

After all, when Noa and Muen were born, he was still in a coma.

The feeling of waking up for the first time and seeing Muen could be described as “surprise fatherhood,” which was entirely different from the emotions he felt now, welcoming the birth of his second child.

Of course, Leon would never favor one daughter over the other due to this difference. His love for his daughters was equal and unbiased.

But right now, he needed to adjust his mindset and think of something appropriate to say.

Seeing Leon’s awkward silence, Roswitha offered a tired smile, deciding to break the quiet.

“She’s a girl.”

Leon’s eyes lit up. “Oh… That’s really… quite wonderful.”

Daughters are precious and bring warmth to their fathers, like a cozy jacket. Even if there are already two such sources of warmth at home, no father would ever refuse the joy of having one more.

Leon appeared calm, but inside, he was so delighted he felt like digging Constantine out of his grave and killing him all over again.

“Do you want to hold her?” Roswitha asked.

Leon panicked, hurriedly brushing the dust and blood off his clothes.

Roswitha gave a faint smile. “It’s okay; our youngest daughter won’t mind her daddy, right? Come on, hold her. I—”

She tried to lift the baby to hand her to Leon, but having just given birth, her weak body made sitting up tremendously difficult. In the end, Roswitha gave up.

“Ah… I can’t sit up. You’ll have to hold her yourself. You know how to hold a baby, right?”

“I… haven’t, um, learned.”

Roswitha rolled her eyes at him playfully, “Dummy. Let me teach you.”

Nearby, Muen felt like raising her hand and pointing out that Daddy often carried her. But considering that her new little sister’s size might be quite different from hers — and seeing how eager Daddy was to have Mommy teach him — she decided to remain silent.

After all, she was a big sister now.

What’s the word for this?

Oh, right — she must learn to read the room, speak only at the right moment, and happily spectate when it’s not her turn to speak!

“You need to support the baby’s neck first, then use your other hand to cradle her bottom. Finally, let the baby rest in the curve of your arm,” Roswitha instructed.

Leon carefully followed her directions, saying as he did, “You seem very proficient…”

“Well, do you think a woman who’s raised twins wouldn’t know how to hold a baby?”

“I was trying to compliment you!”

Leon picked up their precious daughter, positioning her in his arms as Roswitha had described.

For any father of a second child, this action would be rather straightforward.

But for Leon, this was as complicated as his first dragon-slaying attempt.

Watching Leon's meticulous, tense behavior, anyone informed would know he was holding his newborn daughter.

Anyone uninformed might suspect he was cradling a stick of TNT.

Roswitha refrained from teasing him. At a time like this, it was best to have a bit of patience with the silly Dragon Slayer.

She quietly waited for Leon to get accustomed to holding the baby’s posture, then asked,

“So, is it pretty easy?”

Leon nodded.

The baby was light, but in Leon’s arms, she felt as weighty as a thousand pounds.

Her round, pudgy face was incredibly adorable. She had her eyes barely closed, savoring her father's embrace, gradually ceasing her crying.

Leon’s heart swelled with joy.

It turned out that what Roswitha had said earlier was true: when Noa and Muen cried uncontrollably as babies, she would place them next to Leon—even though he was in a coma at the time. Miraculously, the girls would calm down quickly.

The same was happening now with the little one.

Leon seemed to possess a natural ability to bring an innate sense of security to those around him.

Looking at the little girl in his arms, after a long moment, Leon finally spoke:

“She looks like me.”

Roswitha: ?

“No, she clearly looks more like me.”

“She doesn’t. You just gave birth—you’re exhausted and confused. My daughter looks like me.” Leon asserted with confidence.

“You!”

Fine, fine, Casmod—you’re lucky you defended our home admirably this time. I’ll let it slide for now.

But when the third child comes, I’ll make absolutely sure—

Wait.

What third child?

There’s no third child!

None!

Roswitha ducked back under the blankets, hiding most of her face except for her beautiful eyes and dainty nose tip.

“By the way…” Roswitha’s voice was muffled under the covers.

“Hm?” Leon’s full attention was fixed on the baby; although he responded, he never took his eyes off her.

“How about Constantine, that lunatic dragon?”

“Baby~ Baby, say daddy~ Come on, da~~~ddy~~~”

Baby: Do I look remotely capable of speaking yet? Isn’t this a bit premature, Father?

Roswitha rolled her eyes helplessly. “Leon, I’m asking you a question—how did the battle go? Are… are you injured?”

She had intended to steer the conversation back to the “Leon, are you hurt?” topic.

But this foolish husband of hers became entirely preoccupied with their daughter the moment he laid eyes on her.

Serves you right for being such a girl dad!

“I’m not injured. As for Constantine… Just a mere fatal blow.”

“A mere fatal blow…”

Roswitha echoed the phrase, quietly marveling at Leon’s peak condition.

After slaying a Dragon King of Constantine’s caliber without sustaining any significant injuries, returning home to cradle his daughter, chat with his wife, and coo at the baby was all as effortless as turning a hand.

This kind of ridiculously powerful man… probably couldn’t be defeated directly except by insider betrayal.

“Tsk, look at this nose, these ears, this mouth—” Leon remarked as he analyzed her features.

Roswitha blinked. “What about them?”

“Whatever angle I look at her from, she’s the spitting image of me.” Leon grinned with the confidence of a proud father.

Roswitha’s mouth—hidden beneath the blankets—was practically curling to the heavens. “Fine, the nose and ears I can tolerate, but the mouth had better not resemble yours.”

“Why not?”

“The way your mouth’s so stubborn—what’s the benefit of that?”

“Do I have a stubborn mouth? When has my mouth ever been stubborn?”

Leon turned to his two daughters munching on popcorn, “Noa, Muen, is Daddy stubborn?”

Noa & Muen: (๑‾ ꇴ ‾๑) Yep!

“…Ungrateful. My youngest daughter is still my only true ally; she wouldn’t gang up on me like you two.”

With that, Leon lowered his gaze, smiling tenderly and contentedly at the baby girl. “You’ll always take Daddy’s side, won’t you?”

At these words, the baby, who had just stopped crying, suddenly started wailing again: “Waaaahhhhhh~~”

Leon: ?

Fine, fine, is there no place left in this family for Casmodor?!

What about a third child? Let’s have a third one.

What’s the big deal about pulling the lottery? We humans are best at this!