In the evening, Leon arrived at Roswitha's study.

She wasn't working overtime as usual. Instead, she was writing a letter to her elder sister Isa. The letter explained that their grandmother had returned and would be staying with her for a few days before heading to Isa's place, so Isa should prepare in advance.

Leon stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe of the study. He gazed at Roswitha as she bent over her desk, writing, and slowly spoke,

"The old Dragon King mentioned conducting an investigation in the far northern regions. What does that mean? What are they investigating?"

Without looking up, Roswitha continued writing her letter. "The Dragon Clan doesn’t follow a hereditary system like humans do, so my grandmother isn't some 'old Dragon King' as you call her."

After correcting the "dog-man's" choice of words regarding her elder, Roswitha picked up the finished letter and carefully placed it into an envelope before continuing,

"As for what my grandmother said about investigations in the far north, I'm not very clear myself. All I know is that she seems to have started working in that area many years ago."

The far northern regions of the continent were largely barren wastelands, perpetually covered in snow and ice and mostly uninhabited.

Even the Dragon Clan couldn’t survive there for extended periods, let alone other species.

It was said that the ice in the far north was so thick that even the Crimson Flame Dragon King Constantine, known for epitomizing "burning", couldn't completely melt it.

This claim was open to debate since no one truly knew whether Constantine could do it at full strength—

But then again, likely no one would ever know (laugh).

To Leon, there was nothing particularly worthwhile in the far north that would warrant the old lady and several other Dragon Kings spending decades investigating there as a team.

Roswitha had similar thoughts to Leon. She suspected her grandmother was merely using "investigation" as a pretext.

What she was actually doing in the far north, her grandmother never went into detail about.

Of course, since the old lady didn’t elaborate, the couple didn’t pry.

After securing the letter, Roswitha stood up and, wearing her dragon-wing slippers, walked to the balcony.

Leon followed behind her.

A courier dragon had been waiting on the balcony's railing for some time. Roswitha placed the envelope into the bamboo tube strapped to the dragon's back and gently patted its head.

The courier dragon let out a sound and flapped its wings, soaring into the night sky.

"And about what Grandma mentioned earlier—this 'Star-Wandering Dragon King' and the other two Dragon Kings—do you have any thoughts about them?" Leon asked from behind her.

Roswitha leaned on the railing, her gaze drifting among the stars and moon. "Those three are all ancient Dragon Kings. Ravi is even of a higher seniority than Constantine."

Leon nodded thoughtfully.

Indeed, they were a bunch of old monsters.

These three Dragon Kings were also ones he had never faced in his campaigns.

He wondered how powerful they were.

But if their strength was on par with Constantine’s… then there wasn’t much cause for concern.

The fact that Leon could take down Constantine with just one mana bar didn’t mean he would genuinely need his entire magical capacity to defeat the Crimson Flame Dragon King.

To clarify with a simple analogy:

Picture a top student (scholar) and a genius attending the same exam. Both scored 100 points.

The top student proudly announces to the genius, "See? We're at the same level!"

The genius calmly responds, "No. You scored 100 because that's your limit. I scored 100 because that's the test’s limit."

In other words, General Leon's single mana bar might suffice to obliterate one Constantine, but if you brought several Dragon Kings into play… well, he could certainly "try hard enough" to handle them all at once too.

However, beyond brute power, what piqued Leon's interest was something he had rarely encountered before—"space magic."

"The old lady said Ravi abruptly left their investigation, and shortly thereafter, the other two Dragon Kings also disappeared. Their commonality is that they're all users of space magic."

Leon asked quietly, "Can you tell me more about this space magic?"

Human studies in magic had only progressed for a few centuries.

But the Dragon Clan had been refining it for over a millennium.

No matter how knowledgeable Leon was, it was impossible for him to learn things that had never appeared in human history.

Space magic was one such example.

"Oh, that… even for the Dragon Clan, space magic is still relatively novel. The Star-Wandering Dragon King Ravi became a Dragon King three centuries ago precisely because of the unique space magic he developed himself."

Roswitha explained further, "Afterwards, some Dragon Kings began following his lead, studying the subject. Their efforts have shown modest results so far. As you can see, even though we don’t know the specifics of what my grandmother was doing in the far north, it absolutely required Ravi's space magic. With Ravi gone, their action plan stalled too."

"Oh, I see…" Leon stroked his chin, lost in thought.

Roswitha turned around, leaning against the balcony railing as she looked at Leon. "You seem to have some idea?"

After spending so much time together, she could easily tell when the "dog man" was hatching plans.

Leon smiled faintly. "It’s not exactly an idea… just a hunch."

Roswitha tilted her head. "A hunch?"

"Yeah. Constantine was a Dragon King I had never heard of, nor crossed paths with. Even within your Dragon Clan, he remained inactive for many years—only to surface and immediately get exposed for colluding with the Empire."

Leon continued, "As for Ravi and those three Dragon Kings you mentioned, I’d also never heard of them before. Do they maintain a low profile within your Dragon Clan?"

Leon’s words made a light bulb go off in Roswitha’s mind. "They do keep a low profile internally. Everyone just assumed they were deeply engrossed in researching space magic. But with how you’ve pointed it out… it is rather easy to draw a connection between them and Constantine."

Leon spread his hands. "The reasoning isn't flawed, but evidence will be necessary to back it up."

Roswitha knew what he meant. "Constantine’s close confidant, the one we’ve been focusing on."

"Right. We’ve been waiting for four months now. The internal turmoil within the Crimson Flame Dragon Clan should have mostly settled by now, don’t you think?"

He was starting to grow impatient.

Roswitha understood how he felt.

After all, it was tied to his sense of loyalty. He desperately wanted to uncover why the Empire he once served was so hell-bent on hunting him down—and why they had to ally with the Dragon Clan in the first place.

"Once Grandma leaves, we’ll head to the Crimson Flame Dragon Clan and track down that person," Roswitha promised.

Leon raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smile. "Oh? Finally, a chance to stretch my legs?"

Roswitha chuckled. It was true—the dog man had been itching for a fight after going so long without one.

After chatting briefly, the couple tacitly decided to move on from the topic.

One couldn’t keep their nerves and thoughts tightly wound at all times; rest was just as necessary.

Roswitha had already prepared a bottle of red wine on the small wooden table on the balcony.

And two glasses.

Her grandmother’s sudden visit, and the latest information it brought, had undeniably been invaluable.

But it had also placed additional, non-work-related pressure on her.

As the Silver Dragon Queen, she had two primary methods of stress relief—her captive or alcohol.

Her captive had recently been "patched" and powered up; provoking him now might lead to her getting countered.

So Roswitha resorted to wine as her solace instead.

She sat down at the table, crossed her long legs, and let the silky fabric of her dress glide down her smooth skin to her thighs.

The black lace trim peeked out tantalizingly.

Who was this little flirt trying to seduce? Leon wasn’t about to fall for it.

He didn’t sit down. Instead, he stood across from Roswitha, keeping the table between them to ensure his line of sight wouldn’t "accidentally" wander somewhere inappropriate.

*Glug, glug, glug——*

Roswitha poured wine into her glass, lifted it leisurely, and took a small sip.

The liquid swirled down into her stomach, leaving a lingering, delightful flavor in her mouth.

As the cool evening breeze brushed by, Roswitha muttered with a hint of suggestion,

"I prepared two glasses, Leon."

Implying, "Join me for a drink."

"What’s this? One glass isn’t enough for you now?" Leon feigned ignorance.

Roswitha rolled her eyes.

She knew all too well: if you wanted to communicate with the "dog man," you had to speak plainly. Otherwise, he’d play dumb for sure.

"Drink with me." The Queen’s command was curt yet had a subtle trace of dignity that left no room for refusal.

Oh, no room for refusal?

Well, General Leon decided to refuse anyway.

For the sake of rebellion, if nothing else.

"I won’t." Leon said, "You know I can’t handle alcohol."

Roswitha leaned forward, her arm resting on the table. She propped her chin on the back of her hand as the strap of her nightgown slipped off her shoulder. She peered at Leon through the glass of her wine cup.

In her view, Leon now looked like a bobble-headed doll.

She giggled dumbly twice, then pouted and spoke in a tone laced with a touch of whining, "Just have a drink with me~ I’m so stressed."

Leon closed his eyes, unmoved. Obviously fake. It was all an act.

"Leon~"

Can’t hear you. Totally deaf right now.

"Leyo~nn~"

You’re making me cringe, dragon lady, Tone it down, will you?

"My darling Casmod~?"

Give it up—no matter what you call me, I won't drink with you.

"Husband."

"Coming."

Wait, don’t get any wrong ideas—it’s not because she called me husband, okay? I just couldn’t endure the cringe anymore and gave in.