In the Border of the Silver Dragon Territory

The constant months of war had rendered the land barren, with scars of magic clashes evident everywhere.

To restore it to its former state would clearly take some time.

The couple strolled slowly through the forest.

Roswitha took the initiative to try holding Leon's hands.

The recent discussion about the Heart-Guarding Dragon Scale seemed to have put him in a foul mood.

After spending so much time together, the married pair had quarreled and fought before. While they often liked to secretly go head-to-head against each other in small matters, most of the time, they were honest with one another.

Especially when it came to significant matters, Leon and Roswitha never kept secrets from each other.

Which was precisely why Roswitha’s concealment regarding the Heart-Guarding Dragon Scale... had upset Leon so much.

Of course, Roswitha also understood that Leon’s concerns weren’t solely about her withholding the matter from him.

A large part of it was also due to the danger she would face without the protection of the Scale.

He didn’t want anything to happen to Roswitha.

What’s more, Leon had learned from future events that Roswitha had fallen into a coma due to lack of the protection of the Scale, which further aggravated his inability to comprehend why she would keep something so critical in that so-called "safe" place.

And was even so mysterious.

Throughout the walk, Leon wasn’t much in the mood for conversation and kept silently staring at the path ahead.

Roswitha thought to herself that she ought to cheer up her “fake husband.”

It would be better than having their daughters catch wind of anything unusual when they arrived home.

She lightly tried to hook her arms around Leon’s. Seeing Leon didn’t resist, she became bolder, gently slipping her slender fingers into his large palm.

Finally, their fingers interlocked, their tips lightly resting on the back of each other’s hands.

They greatly enjoyed kissing one another, but holding hands for a leisurely walk was a rarity for them.

It wasn’t that holding hands was less exciting than kissing; rather, this kind of intimate yet ambiguously tender behavior while they were entirely lucid… was a bit foreign to them.

Kissing often set off the resonance of their Dragon Marks, leaving the couple in a dazed haze of rapture as they indulged in the pleasure of their entwined connection.

Even when their Dragon Marks didn’t interact, the hormones and dopamine released during kissing often put them into a mildly tipsy state.

In short, their heads were not entirely clear, and they found themselves lost in their forbidden yet thrilling entanglement.

But hand-holding wasn’t like that.

It kept them fully conscious yet provided a subtle and intimate form of contact.

For them, this sensation was… a bit strange.

Thus, they seldom held hands.

Even when no one else was around, they would barely brush shoulders as they walked.

At first, Roswitha’s palms remained cool, but after holding hands for a while, their shared warmth traveled back and forth, and soon her hands grew warm.

Suddenly, something came to Leon’s mind, and he asked, “Is your frequent coldness in your hands and feet also related to the loss of the Dragon Scale?”

Roswitha blinked in slight surprise; her eyes lowered as she nodded.

Leon opened his mouth as if to speak, but, in the end, remained silent.

Roswitha wanted to brush off the concern with a joke, saying, “It’s no big deal. I’ve got hand warmers at home, and if worst comes to worst, I could just whip up a couple of Dragon Flames to stay cozy!”

Yet, just as she was about to speak, she felt the hand squeezed slightly tighter.

It felt as though he were trying to lock more warmth into her palm.

“What are you… doing?” she asked in a low voice.

“Until you get that damn Dragon Scale back, I’ll reluctantly take better care of you for now.”

Tsk.

Well, how reluctant you seemed, Cosmode, reluctant enough to blush.

The queen chuckled, a soft blush spreading across her alabaster cheeks.

“Suit yourself.”

Roswitha gently swayed their clasped hands, then teasingly asked, “So what if my Dragon Scale never comes back? What will you do then?”

“I’ll chop off my own hand and tie it to your wrist.”

“… I was expecting something a bit more romantic.”

Well, whatever. Fine.

Neither drunk nor facing external enemies, it was already quite something to hear Leon Cosmode uttering that he’d “reluctantly take better care” of her.

Knowing her fake husband’s temperament, Roswitha was naturally quite satisfied.

The couple continued walking toward the edge of the forest.

Around half an hour later, they arrived at the border of their territory.

Beyond this point, it was no longer Silver Dragon's land.

Leon stood near the boundary, scanning the surroundings.

“What are you looking for?” Roswitha asked.

“Where is my medal of honor?”

Roswitha raised an eyebrow. “What medal of honor?”

“Constantine’s head, of course.”

Just as serial killers revisit their crime scenes to admire their work, General Leon also had the habit of revisiting his “medals of honor”.

“Oh, that.”

Roswitha remarked, “Several months ago, when the Empire joined forces with other Dragon Clans to launch an assault here, Constantine’s head was taken away by them.”

Leon frowned. “What would they want with a dead dragon’s head?”

Roswitha shrugged. “The Dragon Clans themselves probably have no interest in collecting severed heads. If I had to guess, the Empire likely took it back to use as a tool for their Dragon Slayer Army recruitment campaigns or something else.”

Leon let out a dismissive chuckle, lightly bumping the dragoness’s shoulder. “You’ve got quite the imagination. Still, you might have a point—the Empire is certainly resourceful enough to boost recruitment for their Dragon Slayer Army.”

“What made you decide to join the Dragon Slayer Army back then?”

The couple found a large boulder at the forest’s edge and sat down.

“My mentor.”

Leon replied, “My mentor was a retired Dragon Slayer. After taking me in, he raised me up under Dragon Slayer standards. When I came of age, it was only natural he sent me off to the Dragon Slayer Academy for training. After graduating, I went straight into service.”

Roswitha blinked thoughtfully, then asked, “What if… your mentor hadn’t pushed you into the Dragon Slayer Army, then what would you do?”

Being seated on the boulder, Leon leaned on one hand for support while keeping the other entwined with Roswitha’s. He tilted his head up to gaze at the sky.

A few birds flapped their wings and passed by, and the soft breeze rustled the trees, filling the air with a gentle whooshing sound.

“I’d probably save up some money and move to a remote countryside.”

“Open a ranch and raise cattle, sheep, you name it.”

“Oh, and I’d definitely raise donkeys.”

“Then, I would marry a woman who isn’t too beautiful but not too plain either.”

“Have an adorable daughter.”

“And finally wait for time to slowly wear me down. If it could be done, that’s the kind of life I‘m looking forward to.”

Upon waking from his two-year-long coma, Leon had imagined such a life.

That wish had lingered in his heart, and he had never spoken it aloud.

It wasn’t that it was a shameful secret; it just sounded… wildly unrealistic.

Born at the wrong time, living amid the chaos of war—how could someone as capable as him live a peaceful life?

Roswitha propped her cheek against one hand, while the other hand lazily traced shapes on Leon’s hand with her fingers.

After a moment, she said:

“Once the next Silver Dragon King ascends the throne, we’ll live that way, just like you dreamed.”

Leon froze. “What?”

“Move to the countryside, open a ranch, raise some cattle, sheep, and donkeys, and bring our daughters to live there.”

She paused, then added, “Though the part about marrying a woman who’s neither beautiful nor plain might not be possible.”

Turning his head, Leon looked at Roswitha’s exquisitely shaped profile. With a smile, he continued her idea: “Because the woman playing the role of my wife is stunning beyond compare.”

“Tch, you sweet talker.”

“You practically led me into saying it, so how’s that make me a sweet talker?”

“I don’t care, you’re a sweet talker. Always showering me with compliments—makes me wonder what schemes you’re brewing deep down.” Roswitha teased.

“Hmm, you’re right. I’m dreaming of usurping your throne as the Silver Dragon King.”

After some playful banter, Leon shifted to another topic.

“Speaking of my mentor… you must’ve been in contact with him and Rebecca lately, right?”

Roswitha nodded. “Mhm. Ever since they learned about the spatial rift, they’ve started searching within the Empire for ways to bring you back.”

After a short pause, Roswitha added, “We agreed to meet again three months later, so there are… about twenty days left until then? Perfect timing. I’ll bring you along next time, so your mentor can see you’re safe and sound.”

“Alright.”

Leon agreed, though his face betrayed a touch of distraction.

Roswitha blinked her lovely eyes and leaned closer. “What’s wrong? What are you thinking about?”

“Ah… remember yesterday when I told you about how, in the future, our daughters—without either of us—were trained by Claudia Poseidon of the Sea Dragon Clan?”

“I remember. But our Silver Dragon Clan has never had formal relations with the Sea Dragon Clan. Claudia has no reason to care for our daughters, let alone train them.”

“Right. And the book my mentor gave me, *Nine Hells Gate*, was also authored by Claudia. She even taught the skill to Aurora.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Leon said, “Though it might sound a bit far-fetched, do you think… my mentor could have some connection with the Sea Dragon Clan?”

Roswitha pondered this. “That possibility can’t be ruled out. But two Dragon Clans interacting recklessly without reason could create unnecessary misunderstandings. So, we have to wait twenty days and ask your mentor directly.”

Leon nodded. "How strange... Just recently I found out that my master is a powerful Dragon Slayer, and now it seems he might have some connection with the Sea Dragon Clan... Just how much has that old man been hiding from me?"

Roswitha smiled faintly, leaning slightly to the side and gently rested her head on Leon's shoulder.

"Even elders might not be entirely honest because of certain difficulties."

"You're just using my master as an excuse for yourself, aren't you?"

"Seems like you've figured me out."

Leon chuckled softly, letting Roswitha lean against him.

A gentle breeze rustled through the forest, sunlight spilling over his beloved's shoulder, warm and serene.