A day later, we still hadn't figured out what method Roswitha had mentioned to help Leon store more magic.

She had only said that with injuries on their bodies, it wasn’t suitable to engage in any " vigorous activities."

So, they had to wait until both their injuries healed to discuss it further.

Leon pondered her words carefully.

"Intense and vigorous activities... No matter how I think about it, it just doesn’t sound like anything good..."

In the front courtyard of Silver Dragon Castle, Leon sat beneath the pavilion, gazing at the azure sky, which was free of clouds as far as his eyes could see.

He took in a deep breath, slowly exhaled, then closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind.

His body was still in an extremely fatigued state. Even the simplest act of gathering magic power would cause the magical circuits within his body to feel a searing and burning pain.

And that was just one of the symptoms of overexerting his magic.

The side effects of the Nine Hells Gate also tormented him, with his bones and muscles aching unbearably.

These side effects couldn’t be eased with medication; they could only fade gradually with time.

Leon estimated that it would take at least ten days, or maybe half a month.

In truth, he rarely overexerted himself so recklessly in battles as he had yesterday.

But it was clear that the Dragon Kings were determined to kill him. If he had held back even a little, he wouldn’t be sitting in the dragoness’s courtyard and reflect on life now.

He would already be down in the underworld, competing in a resurrection tournament with Old Kang.

However, after this battle, Leon speculated that the Empire probably wouldn’t choose to confront him head-on again.

For so long now, they had been trying to kill him—a mere human. And just yesterday, six whole Dragon Kings had perished because of it.

In the past, taking down six of them would have been General Leon’s accomplishment over six months. This kind of "downsizing efficiency" would be hard for anyone to bear—not just Leon, but also the Empire and their Dragon Clan collaborators.

So, from now on, the Empire would probably devise new methods to deal with Leon.

As for what those methods might be, he had to take things one step at a time.

Not long after, Roswitha walked out from the main doors of the sanctum. She stood on the top of the steps, scamming left and right. Upon spotting Leon in the pavilion, she strode toward him.

Hearing her approaching footsteps, Leon turned to look and immediately raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.

"Now this is rare—Your Majesty, you're actually dressed casually outside your chambers."

Roswitha’s current outfit was impressively relaxing: a simple white spaghetti-strap dress paired with delicate sandals, revealing her charmingly rounded ankles.

A gentle breeze lifted the hem of her skirt slightly, teasingly exposing her shapely legs beneath.

No wonder Leon was so taken aback. Typically, Roswitha dressed quite formally whenever she moved about in or around the sanctum. It was very unusual to see her to dress so at ease.

Roswitha sat down beside him, stretched out her long legs, and rested her hands on her knees. She lowered her gaze to stare at the tips of her shoes, then spoke in an indifferent tone.

"Most of our clan members have been dismissed. There aren’t many people left in the sanctum now, so I can dress more casually."

Leon blinked. "So, with no subordinates to command, does that mean you can’t call yourself Queen anymore?"

"So what? Even if I’m no longer a queen, you’re still my prisoner."

"Hey, you—!"

"Got a problem?"

Leon huffed, turning his head away, unwilling to argue with her. Begrudgingly, he mumbled, "No."

Roswitha smiled. "I’ve already sent Anna and the others to gather the clan's people again. It’s also a good opportunity to rebuild the Silver Dragon Castle. So that gives me..."

She paused to mentally calculate before continuing, "About a week off. And since it’s my vacation, I don’t need to dress so formally."

Leon sat beside her, silently listening to her while casting occasional glances at her dainty and pristine feet.

It wasn’t that he wanted to be labeled as a aberrant man, but, well, this dragoness’s feet were undeniably beautiful.

They looked like masterpieces crafted by a sculptor—graceful, symmetrical, with skin as smooth as jade. Rosy pink nail polish added a touch of playful charm.

It was only natural to admire beauty, wasn’t it?

Who cared which part he was admiring? Beauty is beauty, and appreciating it was perfectly reasonable.

Sensing the Leon's gaze, Roswitha curled her toes before abruptly lifting her leg on Leon’s laps.

"Here you are—look as you want. If looking isn’t enough, feel free to touch."

"Ahh! Take it away! Take it away! How could such a vulgar and indecent object be placed so close to someone as pure as me?! This is complete chaos, anarchy even!"

Roswitha sucked in a sharp breath, squinting her eyes slightly as she hissed through clenched teeth, "You’re such a gentleman, my prisoner."

The queen snorted derisively, lowering her legs and covering it modestly with her skirt.

"Of course! I’ve led a virtuous life—me, a foot fetishist? Absolutely impossible."

"Then why were you sneaking peeks at my feet for so long? Don’t tell me that you actually obtained nothing I just said."

"I did get it! You said you were taking a vacation."

"For how long?"

"Uh... three days?"

"I’m going to kill you, you damned foot fetishist!"

Roswitha turned sideways, attempting to wrap her hands around Leon’s neck.

But General Leon was quicker, instinctively tucking his chin down defensively, so that the clumsy dragoness couldn’t find a grip.

After several futile attempts, Roswitha had no choice but to give up.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "You’re hopeless, Leon— You're always timid, always evasive. You don’t have the guts to admit what you like or want."

"Okay, okay, don’t scold me, my sister. You win—I’m devastated." General Leon surrendered.

Roswitha glared at him, with her cheeks puffed in frustration.

Damn Leon—after going to the future, he did gain new skills, but his cheek somehow grew thicker along the way as well.

Fine! If that’s how it was, the queen would make him admit it today.

Forcing Leon Casmodé to do what he didn’t want to do, to say what he didn’t want to say, and to admit what he refused to acknowledge was one of Roswitha’s greatest joys in life.

She loved nothing more than seeing Leon's reluctant, yet utterly helpless expressions.

Why?

Oh, the queen couldn’t beat him in a fight, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t seize opportunities to tease him ruthlessly.

Her dignity at home depended on it!

"Come on, let’s have breakfast."

Roswitha stood and walked towards the sanctum.

Leon followed behind her.

The couple entered the dining hall. Muen and Aurora had finished eating earlier and left. Only Noa remained at the table.

"Good morning, Dad, Mom." Their eldest daughter greeted them.

"Morning, Noa."

The couple sat down.

The breakfast was simple, only bread, milk, jam, and some salad.

Leon skillfully spread the jam over a slice of bread, evenly coating it. Taking another slice, he placed it on top to make a sandwich, which he then handed to Roswitha. "Here."

Roswitha smiled warmly but didn’t take it. Instead, she leaned forward and took a bite directly.

Leon grimaced slightly. "Can’t you just hold it yourself?"

"What’s that attitude? After being apart for six months, is this how little patience you’ve got for me now?"

Leon drew a sharp breath.

Great. What new mischief is she up to now?

Whenever things reached this point, it was in Leon’s best interest to go along with her. Arguing would only make things worse.

Especially with Noa present—he had to maintain his role as "Roswitha’s loving husband."

So, he could only keep holding the sandwich, feeding Roswitha bite by bite.

To uninformed people, they might have thought the queen was pregnant again, needing to be pampered to this degree.

Roswitha savored each bite Leon fed her, her eyes sparkling playfully as she watched him.

Her chewing was graceful and unhurried, a stark contrast to Leon’s obvious impatience.

"I'm thirsty," Roswitha said.

Leon picked up a glass of milk and handed it to her.

Roswitha accepted it and sipped delicately.

The milk flowed into her stomach, whose rich and comforting flavor was satisfying. A tiny bit lingered at the corner of her lips.

The white streak against her red lips was quite suggestive.

A small droplet began to trickle from that corner down to her chin before Roswitha seemed to notice. Only then did she leisurely lift a finger, wiping it away.

"Oops, excuse me. That was indecent."

No, the dragoness, you were abnormal.

Was it really necessary to make the behavior of eating breakfast so... coquettish?

It was fortunate that Noa couldn’t grasp the meaning behind the scene currently. Otherwise, her next "Parents’ Love Story" essay might include some shocking new materials.

Leon grumbled inwardly while continuing to feed the dragoness piece by piece.

After a few more bites, Leon opened his mouth, ready to make a sarcastic remark.

But before he could speak, he felt something soft and smooth brushing against his calf.

Looking down, he saw Roswitha’s feet.

She had crossed one long leg over the other, slipped off one of her sandals, and was using her bare, tender foot to lazily caress his calf.

The sensation wasn’t too forceful, but it sent a tingling itch through his body.

"What’s wrong?" Roswitha asked deliberately.

"Your feet—"

Halfway through his sentence, Leon glanced at Noa, who was still eating.

He clenched his jaw and lowered his voice. "Our daughter is right here. Don’t go too far."

"Hmm? What are you saying, dear? Speak louder—I can’t hear you~"

Each playful pause in Roswitha’s sentences was accompanied by the mischievous movement along his calf by her feet.

Her soft sole pressed lightly against his leg, her tiny toes lifting and lowering in sequence.

The sensation was all too vivid.

Across the table, Roswitha supported her chin with one hand, smiling sweetly as if she was completely unaware of anything happening beneath the table.

"Dad, Mom, I’m finished."

Noa finished her meal, hopped off the chair, and ran toward the door.

Roswitha calmly retracted her feet, slipping it back into her sandal, then casually instructed, "Be careful while you play outside."

"Got it, Mom."

Noa replied without looking back as she left the dining room.

The sound of footsteps faded into the distance. With a snap, Leon tossed the piece of bread onto Roswitha’s plate, glaring at her.

Roswitha looked innocent. “My husband, you’re being mean to me again.”

It seemed... this reckless dragoness really needed a lesson.

Leon said nothing. He suddenly stood up, then bent down and scooped Roswitha into his arms.

Startled, Roswitha instinctively wrapped her arms around Leon’s neck. “What are you doing?”

Leon still didn’t answer, carrying her swiftly out of the dining room and up to the bedroom on the second floor.

Roswitha pursed her lips into a sly smile but still asked pitifully, “Leon, don’t bully me, okay? I was wrong.”

“Now you know you were wrong? It's too late!”

Well, well... truly a man who never looks back at explosions. He was already back into his cool act so quickly~

In that case... it’s time to review the marital studies lesson.