The issue of being betrayed and framed by an insider was a subject Leon rarely brought up.

Roswitha could probably guess why he was reluctant to discuss it.

First, having fought on the battlefield for so many years and achieved countless victories, only to ultimately be sabotaged by a petty schemer—the outcome brought profound disgrace to someone hailed as a hero by the Empire and its people.

Second, the one who framed him could very likely have been a comrade who had fought tooth and nail with him. Had it been someone else, Leon might not have been so deeply hurt; but for someone to get close enough to him during combat and silently launch an attack, it could only have been one of his squadmates.

Still, three years had passed since then. It was time to revisit and analyze this event.

As expected, when asked about it by Roswitha, Leon fell silent.

He lowered his head, scratched his forehead, seeming both willing to talk about it yet unsure of where to begin.

Roswitha noticed his hesitation and took the initiative, saying, “Let’s talk about the specifics of that day first. Before you were framed, what were you and your teammates doing?”

Leon stared at the tips of his shoes as his pupils gradually lost focus, his thoughts drifting back to the day three years ago when they launched an assault on Silver Dragon Castle.

Recalling the events, he began to narrate bit by bit:

"On that day, our army had already broken through the guards on the outskirts of the temple. As long as we burst through the main gate, we could... um..."

He pursed his lips, glanced at Roswitha beside him, and continued, "we could see you."

With her chin resting on one hand, Roswitha gazed at Leon with her dazzling eyes, attentively listening.

The damned man was being rather euphemistic. "We could see you."

See me, is that it? And then what? Sit down together, sip tea, and chat?

She shook her head, dismissing her wandering thoughts, and nodded instead. “Hmm... and then?”

“Well... you know, humanity generally relies on a swarm tactic to defeat the Dragon Clan. So, after breaking through the outer defenses, I directed a large portion of our forces to assault the front gate.”

“Of course, that was just a feint. The true strike came from over a hundred elite dragon-slaying squads attacking from the flanks. Once your Silver Dragon defenses concentrated on the main gate, it was the perfect opportunity to open breakthroughs on the sides.”

“The battle unfolded exactly as I had planned—feints were effective, flank attacks went smoothly.”

“Following the timeline of the operation, this was the moment when top-tier opponents like the Dragon King were supposed to take the stage. I had steeled myself for a decisive duel with you.”

Roswitha blinked. She more or less understood—Leon’s strategy at the time was a classic “protect the one.”

The aim was to deliver the Dragon King slayer bomb, a.k.a. Leon himself, inside the sanctuary. As long as his squad succeeded in that task, their mission was complete.

And then? Sit back and watch General Leon put on a show slaying dragons.

“But... just as my squad and I were about to step into the sanctuary's courtyard, a sudden darkness engulfed my vision.”

“Darkness?” Roswitha furrowed her brow slightly. “Was it illusion magic?”

“From how it felt, it did seem like a very powerful kind of illusion magic. And for such a potent spell to work, it had to be cast from very close range and on someone who wasn’t guarded against the caster. But by that point, there were no Silver Dragons anywhere near me.”

Roswitha's eyes flickered with understanding as she grasped Leon’s implication.

Someone capable of entrapping a warrior as formidable as him in such magic could only have been one of his closest teammates.

Leon continued, “I didn’t have much time to think about it—I did everything I could to break free from the illusion. But just then...”

Leon raised a hand to his chest, his palm pressed over his heart, the tone of his voice sinking.

“The person who betrayed me struck. They didn’t use a sword or dagger but some sort of... fine, sharp object imbued with piercing enchantments—otherwise, it wouldn’t have penetrated the chest armor of the Black Gold Chariot.”

“They struck my heart. Strangely, I felt pain on the surface of my chest, in the skin and muscle, but my heart itself didn’t hurt as much.”

With a bitter smile, Leon shook his head twice. “But that’s just biology. I knew what had happened, and I knew that the moment my heart was punctured, it was over.”

“From falling into the illusion to the ambush, the entire process took less than two seconds. And at the time, there weren’t any Silver Dragons within a hundred meters of me.”

“When I regained consciousness, all our attacking squads’ positions had been exposed. You readjusted your tactics immediately, picking us off one by one.”

“Since I was already unable to command properly, my second-in-command took over by regulation, ordering a full retreat.”

“My teammates carried my critically wounded self, inching toward the sanctuary’s exit. But our movements were too slow—once our locations were all revealed, your counterattack was both effective and swift. If they wanted to survive, they had to leave me behind.”

“By then, my own consciousness was too fuzzy to understand what they were saying. There was some brief arguing, but ultimately... I still wound up as your captive.”

“That’s about it.”

Leon sighed heavily, covering his face with both hands.

Roswitha listened intently but didn’t respond immediately.

From Leon’s retelling, it was clear he had indeed been sabotaged by one of his own teammates.

Everything—the illusion magic, the enchanted weapon, the exposed positions, and even the fleeting display of “camaraderie”—pointed to this being a well-planned betrayal.

The person who had framed Leon had thoroughly prepared for that moment.

When the backstab was executed, there wasn’t a single trace left. Not only did humanity fail to identify the traitor post-battle, even the Silver Dragon Clan didn’t figure out which top-tier assassin had eliminated their rivals’ ADC lifeline, flipping what was supposed to be a surefire tactical victory.

However, there was a small silver lining in this bitter tragedy: since the mole had struck directly at Leon’s heart, they clearly intended to kill him—not let him live.

It was unfortunate for them that Leon was still alive and well. In fact, he had become the Silver Dragon Queen’s pseudo-husband.

Not to mention, he now had three adorable daughters.

If the perpetrator learned this, they’d likely get so livid they’d keel over.

After a moment of silence, Roswitha asked, “Do you have any leads? Any guesses on who the mole might be?”

Leon kept his gaze ahead, shaking his head. “Analyzing rationally, anyone could be the culprit. But emotionally... I can’t imagine any of the three doing something like this.”

Balancing reason with emotion, Leon hadn’t let anger cloud his judgment or hastily accused someone based on his frustration over their betrayal. Similarly, he hadn’t let nostalgia or sentimental bonds blind him to the possibility that one of them had turned against him.

Leon had control over his thoughts and feelings to an admirable degree; most others probably wouldn’t have been able to achieve what he had.

As Roswitha considered this, she cast her gaze to the side and asked, “You mentioned earlier—three teammates?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then, tell me about them. Just a simple rundown.”

Leon scratched his head, thinking that since he had already said so much, going into further detail wouldn’t hurt.

“Hmm... there was a deputy captain, a support mage, and a gunner. Let’s start with the deputy captain.”

Leon began, “That guy’s what you’d call a perennial runner-up.”

Roswitha froze. “Perennial runner-up? Is that... an insult?”

Leon shrugged. “I win championships all the time. Guess who takes second place?”

“Oh, I see. Go on.”

“Like me, he came from a commoner background before joining the Dragon Slayer Army. No special connections or backing—he rose to the rank of deputy captain solely through his own skill. Oh, and he was the one who took over my command after I fell. A pretty impressive guy.”

After a pause, Leon added, “But not as impressive as me.”

Roswitha grinned and gently shoved Leon’s shoulder. “You sure do know how to find moments to brag about yourself.”

After a heavy topic, some lighthearted banter was sorely needed to ease the mood.

Leon chuckled briefly before continuing, “The second one was our support mage. Now, that guy’s got some pedigree—he’s the youngest son of one of the Empire’s ministers. I heard that after graduating, he specifically requested to join my squad because he ‘admired me’ and wanted to become a Dragon Slayer like me.”

Roswitha chuckled softly. “Ah, a little fanboy. So, what about the gunner?”

“Oh, her? She’s a total chatterbox—”

The queen’s radar went off. “Wait a second, a woman?”

Leon was taken aback. “Uh, yeah... why?”

“Cassmord, in your monotonous life spent with donkeys, you finally encountered a second woman around your age—aside from the silver-haired one.”

Leon blinked. Her words sounded like a jab at his twenty-odd years of being single.

But the more he thought about it, the more he detected... a faint whiff of jealousy?

“And what did this woman look like?” Roswitha asked.

Leon’s thoughts stirred, and mischievous ideas began to bubble up. “Beautiful. Really beautiful.”

To Leon, the girl seemed average-looking, though he’d heard she had no shortage of admirers.

Leon’s take on the matter was, if you’re looking for something shiny to chase, go for my donkey—it can even bray for you.

And yet, upon hearing his exaggerated praise of the gunner, Roswitha’s bright eyes widened, her teeth clenched discreetly.

She outwardly feigned indifference. “Oh? That’s nice. Having a pretty girl on the team means you’d be pretty happy, huh? Ogling her while fighting battles.”

Leon didn’t answer the question but instead shot back, “Tsk tsk, my queen dragon, has your beer expired?”

“Expired? No.”

“Well, then why do I smell something sour?”

*CRACK...*

the beer can in Roswitha’s hand crumpled instantly under her grip, metal crumpling with sharp sounds.

Leon lowered his eyes, taking note of the flattened can—clearly, she was heating up.

Nope, that’s enough teasing. This queen dragon had just drunk beer, and last night she’d discovered a new “Dragon Mark” technique for tormenting him. Who knows what she’d do if provoked any further?

Quickly, Leon said, “Just kidding, just kidding. She’s actually pretty average. At least to me, she seemed pretty average.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Yup... Anyway, from her hair color to her height to her personality, she’s not my type at all.”

"What type do you like?"

Wait, isn’t my XP level something you already know? Why are you asking this just to mess with me?

Leon pondered how to dodge the topic, but Roswitha leaned in closer. She was still clearly drunk, her face rosy red.

"Come on, tell me, what type do you like?"

"Uh, I like… I like si—"

"Stop stammering… can't you… finish it in one go… huh?"

As she spoke, the alcohol suddenly got the better of Roswitha. Her vision swirled, her body lost all balance, and she tipped forward uncontrollably, finally collapsing sideways onto Leon's lap.

Leon froze, then cautiously reached out to poke her cheek. "Hey, Roswitha, hey?"

"Mm…"

All he got in reply was a faint, unintelligible murmur.

"Wow, that was fast, Mother Dragon."

Having just given birth not long ago, her strength hadn’t fully recovered. On top of that, drinking so much tonight made it unsurprising that she suddenly passed out.

She lay slumped sideways, her body resting on Leon’s lap, and soon fell into a deep sleep.

A faint, ethereal fragrance emanated from her, carrying a lingering trace of alcohol, along with the palpable warmth of her body.

The softness of her chest gently pressed against Leon's thigh, sending his thoughts spiraling out of control.

With a flushed face, Leon hurriedly took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

After calming himself down somewhat, he scooped up the sleeping Roswitha in his arms, stepped up the stairs, and walked into the sanctuary.