At the moment Leon leaped forward, Stah had just completed his power charge.

This strike would mark the end of his millennia-long life.

And it would also mark the end of the arrogant human standing before him.

Stah was determined to make him understand: provoking the Dragon Clan only led to one outcome—death.

What did it matter if they perished together?

As long as he could make the enemy pay an equivalent price, Stah didn’t care about the cost.

Golden light erupted, and from a distance, it appeared as if a second sun was slowly rising from the horizon.

The overwhelming force rippled outwards, with Stah at its center, while he roared, defending the last shred of dignity as a Dragon King.

And the one who had driven him to this point was equally prepared to face him head-on.

A man in silver armor gripped the weight of a thousand thunders in his hand. The most uncontrollable, most chaotic element in nature had transformed into an army under his command, waiting at his back.

He resembled a general of salvation, commanding the most powerful force on Earth, unleashing a full-strength strike against the massive golden dragon.

Countless bolts of lightning coalesced into the form of a lion, which roared as it descended from the heavens.

**Ultimate S-Class Thunder Magic—Dragon Annihilation.**

A spell that existed in no written records, a dragon-slaying technique uniquely created by Leon Cosmod.

No lengthy or convoluted incantations.

No obscure gestures or dramatic rituals.

No underhanded secrets or ambush tricks.

It was pure energy with a singular purpose:

Slaying dragons.

Lightning collided with golden light;

A lion clashed with the Dragon King.

A battle between kings—a fight to the death with no room for retreat.

The two forces met in mid-air, and the explosive energy triggered by their clash rippled outward.

In an instant, the heavens quaked and the Earth shuddered, as though the apocalypse had come ahead of schedule.

Blinding light flashed in Lavie’s eyes as he watched the scene unfold. He murmured manically to himself,

"Do you see this, Nacho? This is the pinnacle of life-and-death duels in the world! How envious I am of you—barely thirty or forty years old, yet you get to witness this, while I’ve lived for fifteen hundred years and only today am I lucky enough to see such a showdown with my own eyes!”

The Dragon Clan were all lunatics—

That great one often said so.

Nacho had never believed it before. But now, he did.

Kneeling on the ground, he watched the man and the dragon risking everything to take each other down.

Nacho couldn’t understand it. If the Dragon King’s destruction in rage was uncontrollable, why was Leon Cosmod so desperate in return?

He clearly could have fled to safety with the other silver dragons. Even if Stah’s self-destruction wave could’ve reached him, it wouldn’t have been as dire as this—gambling his life on the line.

Nacho looked at that small, silvery figure. Controlling the might of lightning and fighting with unmatched resolve against the berserk Dragon King, Nacho, cunning as he was, couldn’t help but have a thought rise in his mind at that moment:

How incredible it would be... if such a person stood on our side.

The brave and fearless, those unafraid of sacrifice, never failed to earn the recognition of others.

But Nacho couldn’t understand, nor could he ever, that Leon had never lived for anyone’s recognition.

He had something to protect, and if he had to stake his life to do it, so be it.

Amid the chaotic lightning, cracks began to form on the man’s armor. Raising his voice, he questioned the golden dragon,

“How long have you lived, Stah?”

“A thousand years? Two thousand? Or three thousand?”

“Surely, in your long life, there must be something you call your ‘biggest regret,’ right?”

“Maybe it was a wrong decision.

Maybe it was the act of killing your own kin with your own hands.

Or maybe something else entirely.”

“But now, I’ll tell you—what you should most regret in this life is standing at my front door, screaming in front of my wife and kids, and threatening to blow up my house.”

“The last dragon that frightened my wife and kids is already hanging above my front door.”

“And your fate... will be the same!”

Thunder rumbled, as he used the lightning in his hands to shatter the golden light before him, forcibly pushing back the overwhelming destructive force that could’ve leveled everything.

The lightning-forged lion roared, baring its fangs, slashing with its claws, and charged straight toward Stah.

In an instant, the dragon was engulfed by the lightning, the golden glow extinguished, and the dragon’s roar resounded from the explosion—a roar filled with bitterness and rage over its defeat.

“D-Does this mean His Highness has won? His Highness has won!!”

The moment of the explosion shattered Stah’s overwhelming dragon presence.

The warriors of the Silver Dragon Clan raised their arms and cheered.

A relieved smile appeared on Sherry’s face as she turned to Anna. “Head Maid, we’ve won.”

Anna loosened the fists she had been clenching so tightly that her nails had pierced her palms, blood dripping from her fingertips. “Yes… we’ve won.”

On the battlefield, Roswitha dashed straight into the still-raging explosion, grabbing Leon in her mouth and flying close to the ground—

With aftershocks continuing to radiate outward, the situation was dire. She could only use this rather undignified method to get Leon to safety.

That bastard! Winning a fight and not running to dodge the explosion? Instead, standing there to show off.

After this, she absolutely needed to consult that gunner Rebecca and ask how she’d endured this arrogant bastard for so long.

Lost in thought, a sudden shockwave burst from behind her. Roswitha couldn’t dodge in time and crashed to the ground with Leon in tow.

Fortunately, they had already reached the edge of the aftershock. Falling here wouldn’t have much consequence.

Roswitha’s massive dragon body quickly stabilized.

Once steady, she immediately ran over to Leon, spreading her wings to shield him, using her own body to block the lingering shockwaves of the explosion.

Luckily, the energy explosion came to an end shortly thereafter.

After listening for a while and confirming there was no more movement, Roswitha folded her wings and transformed into her human form.

The couple lay down amidst the devastated battlefield, staring at the night sky, which was growing steadily brighter.

The clouds dispersed, and the first ray of sunlight reflected against the chestplate of the Black Gold Chariot armor.

Leon was utterly exhausted, and his right hand trembled uncontrollably.

That strike just now had been perilous indeed. It was a gamble through and through—but thankfully, he had won the bet.

“Roswitha.”

“What?”

“Your teeth were digging into my kidneys just now...”

“You should be glad I didn’t eat you.”

“Still, being carried in a dragon’s mouth is a first for me. It’s... quite an experience.”

Roswitha turned her head, looking at him with undisguised disdain. “Bunny costumes are the furthest I'll go; as for your other kinks, you’ll need to find someone else to help.”

The couple lay there, staring at each other.

Though from Roswitha’s perspective, all she could see was the silver lump of steel, she believed there must be a silly, innocent grin beneath his helmet.

Suddenly, the queen had a wild impulse and acted on a bold idea.

She reached out, gently cradling the Black Gold Chariot helmet, then leaned in and pressed her soft lips against the cold, unyielding metal.

It was a light kiss.

She immediately pulled back, her face flushing crimson, and lay flat on the ground again.

General Leon froze for a moment, then abruptly sat bolt upright. “That doesn’t count! Th-That kiss through the helmet doesn’t count!”

“Count it, don’t count it—I’ve done my part.”

“That’s not fair! Hold on, let me take off my helmet so we can do it properly.”

As he spoke, Leon fumbled clumsily with the Black Gold Chariot helmet, trying to remove it.

This damned armor was great for everything—except being a hassle to take off.

He’d sell it off someday, no doubt.

(*Black Gold Chariot: Am I not supposed to ignite your dreams anymore, Cosmod?*)

In the end, Leon couldn’t get the helmet off.

He gave up, resigning himself to wait and try again when they got home.

Leon stood up, extending a hand toward Roswitha. “Let’s go. Time to head back.”

Roswitha nodded, taking his hand. With a slight effort, she rose to her feet.

The couple turned to look at the battlefield behind them.

Golden scales were scattered everywhere, and the massive dragon corpse sprawled across the land—tidying up a battlefield like this would take quite some time.

“That head’s too big—it won’t fit above the door,” Leon mused aloud.

“In that case,” Roswitha replied, “I’ll arrange for some craftsmen to build you a special display platform, exclusively for showcasing the heads of these ancient Dragon Kings. How does that sound?”

“That’s too much. Instead of that, I’m more interested in the grander throne you mentioned rebuilding last time.”

The couple supported each other, chatting aimlessly as they slowly made their way toward the Silver Dragon territory.

Anna, Sherry, and the others approached to greet them.

There was no doubt—it had been a clean and glorious victory. After this, the Empire probably wouldn’t send any more Dragon Kings to trouble Leon—

“You two—where do you think you’re going?”

The voice came from above.

The pair looked up to see a dark figure descending from the sky, landing squarely between them and the approaching Silver Dragon soldiers.

As soon as this person landed, two more black silhouettes followed suit, flanking Leon and Roswitha on either side.

The three formed a triangle, surrounding the couple in the center.

Roswitha immediately recognized the leading figure.

“Stellar Dragon King—Lavie...”