After obtaining crucial intelligence from Maureen, Roswitha did not rush to take Leon out of the dungeon.

To be precise, she did not leave the entire dungeon.

They traversed the corridors of the prison, arriving at another section.

Although the area was still filled with iron windows, iron doors, and iron bars, Leon keenly noticed that all the cells in this section were empty.

In contrast, the section Maureen had just been in held dozens of imprisoned members of the Dragon Clan.

Seemingly perceiving Leon's puzzlement, Roswitha began to explain,

"This is the section designated for imprisoning outsiders."

Leon paused in his steps, murmuring under his breath, "Outsiders..."

The Silver Dragon Clan was not particularly warlike; it never initiated conflicts with other Dragon Clans or outsiders. It made sense that the section prepared specifically for outsider prisoners was so empty.

But why did she bring him here?

Leon, although uncertain of the female dragon’s intentions, instinctively knew her plan likely wouldn’t be anything good.

As they walked deeper into the section, Roswitha continued, “Do you know the largest outsider campaign the Silver Dragon Clan has faced in recent years?”

“Which one-?” Leon asked instinctively.

“The invasion campaign of the Human Empire Dragon Slayer Army.”

Of course. He shouldn't have asked.

Leon rolled his eyes in mild exasperation, “And so?”

“In that battle, we captured a warrior renowned as the strongest Dragon Slayer. Can you guess who it was?”

As they conversed, the couple came to the door of the deepest cell in the area.

Leon felt no emotional stirrings in response to Roswitha dredging up old grievances.

In fact, he almost wanted to laugh.

“A prisoner is just a prisoner. And now, I'm still the father of your three children, aren’t I?”

General Leon had always been fond of reasoning with dragons, but when it came to his post-capture life as an unexpected father, he seemed to have adopted a ‘a hardened rogue beyond shame’ mentality.

No matter how his dragon queen teased or mocked him, one simple line—“I’m your husband”—was enough to turn the tables.

“Alright, alright, you’re the father of my children, you’re my husband. I’ll concede.”

Roswitha chuckled softly before slowly turning to face the cold, icy cell before them.

Leon followed her line of sight. “So why are we here?”

“Hm? Being here doesn’t spark any precious memories of the past for you?”

“What precious mem—”

Halfway through his retort, a buried memory exploded in his mind like a dormant landmine meeting a flame.

The remnants of the past danced in his pupils—this was the cell where he had spent his time as Roswitha's captive.

Oh...

Leon finally understood. No wonder the dragon queen had mentioned revisiting the “place where dreams began.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong; this place was indeed the starting point for him and Roswitha.

But Leon still couldn’t figure out why she had brought him here.

"Oh? Judging by your expression, it seems like you’ve remembered now?” Roswitha asked with a smile.

Leon shoved his hands into his pockets, his lips curling in slight annoyance. “Yeah, I remember. So? You still haven’t said why we’re here.”

“To revisit the place where dreams began, of course... and relive those dreams again.”

She opened the cell door and, with an impeccable gesture of “please,” added, “The prisoner goes first.”

Gulp—

Leon swallowed nervously.

If his understanding of language wasn’t failing him, Roswitha had just implied that she wanted to...

Relive the 'bloody farce' of their early days together here in this very cell?

Judging by the grin on her face, Leon figured he was probably right.

And so, he immediately protested, “No.”

“Why not?”

Leon’s eyes flitted over the interior of the cell before he quickly came up with an excuse, “It’s dirty here—the bacteria and all that wouldn’t be good for our health.”

“It’s fine. Nobody’s been imprisoned here for years—except you. If there’s any bacteria, it’s yours from back then. I don’t mind.”

“... Still, no.”

The queen leaned casually against the cell door, arms crossed over her chest as her expression turned displeased. “Why not?”

“I’m afraid it might bring back bad memories for you.”

“You’ve given me plenty of bad memories over the years; what’s one more? Don’t make me say it a third time—get in there, prisoner.”

In Roswitha’s bedroom, the pair had role-played “queen and captive” many times before.

But this time, the “game” was entirely genuine.

Leon was still contemplating how to avoid this impending “turning in homework,” but the Dragon Mark on his chest had already lit up.

Clearly, Roswitha wasn’t planning to give him much time to stall this time around.

After all, this was taking place in a cell. Despite her playful words about not minding, it was still better to keep things brief.

She took Leon's wrist and pulled him into the cell.

Her delicate, sinuous figure lay on the dry straw scattered across the ground. Beside her, her “captive” shed his shirt, revealing a muscular body and the faintly glowing purple Dragon Mark on his chest.

This time, Roswitha chose to be passive.

She closed her eyes and felt the familiar, gentle caresses and kisses. A weary flush spread across her cheeks, and a satisfied smile graced her lips.

Truthfully, Roswitha’s sudden urge to bring Leon here to relive their past was merely a whim.

Memory-extraction magic came with significant side effects, subjecting the user to tremendous mental pressure.

And it turned out, the queen had an oddly simple, yet brutal method of relieving that pressure.

Moreover, the typically conservative Roswitha actually sought more thrilling and rebellious experiences during moments alone with Leon.

She had pondered over why she harbored such thoughts and had finally come to understand—breaking boundaries brought a certain addictive thrill.

She was enthralled by the 'obsession' Leon had unknowingly introduced to her life, utterly unwilling to save herself, only hoping to fall deeper and deeper into depravity with him.

What was so bad about that?

Being a Silver Dragon Queen was exhausting enough—why not surrender to her inner rebellion and long-buried desires in the presence of her false husband?

The reaction of the Dragon Mark slowly swept Leon up in passion.

He leaned down, pressing against Roswitha. His hand grazed her cheek as he softly asked, “Here—doesn’t this make you uncomfortable?”

Roswitha knew exactly what he was referencing—he had just mentioned it earlier: the so-called “bad memories.”

Her silver eyes locked onto his gaze as she curled her lips and gently tugged at his scorching earlobe.

“Relax. This place doesn’t bring me bad memories—only makes me... crave to dominate you more.”

Without a doubt, Roswitha was provoking him.

It was one of her favorite techniques.

Leon, unfortunately, was always susceptible to her provocations; they worked every time.

Sure enough, upon hearing her words, he immediately grabbed her by the neck and pressed her back into the straw pile.

He didn’t exert much force—not enough to make her feel suffocated—but just enough to deliver a clear message.

Roswitha enjoyed this treatment; she’d even told Leon explicitly that he could employ some roughness with her during their more intimate moments.

Satisfied, she smiled as her fingertips trailed over his wrist, her gaze sparking with endless allure.

“My dear, I don’t like being treated so roughly.”

When it came to women’s words, Leon had learned to decipher them well.

“No” usually meant “yes,”

“Saying ‘I’m not angry’ meant ‘I’m furious.’

And “not liking roughness” clearly translated to— Oh, she loved it. Bring it on!