Leon had been tutoring Muen and Aurora for a few days, and things were progressing just as he had anticipated. His daughter loved learning, and the old father loved teaching. With this mutual enthusiasm, their progress was incredibly rapid.
Moreover, the two young dragon girls had naturally developed a sense of competition as study partners. Given the closeness between the sisters, it wasn’t about outshining or surpassing one another, but rather maintaining a healthy competitive spirit to increase efficiency in everything they did.
Noa, who had studied alone previously, had passed the Saint Hiss Academy's test with the highest marks after just one month, relying on her astonishing talent and innate Involuted Queen physique. Now, with Muen and Aurora, Leon was confident that they, too, would achieve excellent results.
Of course, even if their scores turned out to be average, Leon wouldn’t be disappointed or critical. After all, the Melkevi family’s motto was all about love and harmony—well, excluding himself and Roswitha, the mother dragon.
The father and daughters continued their studies in an orderly manner.
That weekend, Noa came home for her break. This time, she didn’t bring back any friends.
At dinner, Roswitha brought up the topic of visiting Isa.
“Are we going to Aunt Isa’s house?” Muen asked eagerly, her beautiful eyes sparkling with anticipation.
“Yes, Aunt Isa mentioned in her letter that she misses you all very much,” Roswitha replied.
“Yay! We’re going to Aunt Isa’s house~!”
Although Isa didn’t have children of her own, she was particularly fond of her sister’s three young dragon daughters. Naturally, the children were just as warm in responding to their aunt’s affection. Every time a trip to Isa’s place was mentioned, they were overjoyed.
“But… wasn’t Aunt Isa’s area caught in some conflicts recently?” Noa asked, her initial excitement dimmed slightly by concern for the situation at her aunt's home.
“Don’t worry, dear,” Roswitha reassured her. “Things have settled down there now. It’s perfectly safe for us to visit.”
Noa nodded. “Alright then.”
Muen’s eyes blinked as if a thought had struck her. “Oh, Mom, didn’t the entrance exam require a family photo to be submitted?”
Hearing this, Roswitha recalled that Saint Hiss Academy indeed had such a requirement.
“Yes, but there’s no rush. We can take it a few days from now,” she said.
Muen thought for a moment before suggesting eagerly, “Why don’t we take the photo when we visit Aunt Isa? We can include her in it. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Muen's suggestion was quite thoughtful. Roswitha turned to Leon, as if asking for his opinion. Leon nodded slightly, indicating that he had no objection.
By now, Leon didn’t have any resistance left regarding taking photos.
After all, after experiencing *“Holding hands with a dragon,”* *“Kissing a dragon,”* and *“Having kids with a dragon,”* what difference did *“Taking photos with a dragon”* make at this point?
I’m already “The Hero of the Dragon Clan.” What’s there to fear?
“Alright,” Roswitha said. “When we visit Isa, we’ll take the family photo with her in the Sky City.”
“Yay~!” Muen cheered.
...
After dinner, Leon and Roswitha returned to their room. Roswitha headed straight to the study and pulled a photograph out from one of the desk drawers.
Leon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “What’s that?” he asked.
Roswitha turned the photo around to face him. “Our very first family photo,” she said.
Leon narrowed his eyes slightly to examine it. The photo was well-preserved, with no yellowing, though it showed some signs of age. It was a group picture of him, Roswitha, Noa, and Muen. Yet, in this mere group of four, three stern expressions dominated.
At the time, his relationship with Roswitha had been terrible, and the fragile bond between them relied entirely on their daughters to keep it from falling apart.
As for Noa, she deeply resented him back then—even a simple hug required her permission. If not for the entrance exam requirement, the three of them would never have appeared in the same picture together.
Leon walked closer and gently took the photograph from Roswitha’s hand. Carefully watching it, he remarked, “It’s only been two years, but Noa and Muen have changed so much.”
In the picture, the two little ones had the typical appearance of adorable, short-statured lolis, perfect for hugging and carrying. But after two years, they had grown significantly taller. Their growth rate was far beyond what human children could achieve.
“Dragon Clan hatchlings grow very quickly,” Roswitha explained. “Around the age of eleven or twelve, their physical development is nearly complete. After that, they will transit into the second phase of internal development.”
“Internal...development?” Leon asked.
“Yes. For example, strengthening the bones, tendons, internal organs, and magical circuits. This second phase ends around the age of twenty. By then, their bodies will be strong enough to transform into their dragon forms.”
Dragon forms...
Leon recalled what the future version of Aurora had mentioned during his time travel: that Aurora had just learned to transform into a dragon at around twenty years old and could barely sustain flight.
How nice, he thought. These dragonlings could grow wings and fly around within two decades of their birth.
At twenty years old, General Leon had been stuck scavenging tree bark for sustenance with Rebecca and Martin in the harshest war zones.
Roswitha came closer to stand beside him, gazing at the same photograph. After a moment of silence, she asked, “What were you thinking back then?”
“Hm?”
“I mean, when this photo was taken. What were you feeling or thinking about?”
Leon tilted his head slightly in thought. “I was thinking about you, of course, dear wife.”
Roswitha rolled her eyes and lightly nudged his chest with her elbow. “Quit being so cheesy. Answer seriously.”
Leon laughed and dug into his memories. “If I have to be honest... I was probably thinking—‘How long will this false family need to keep pretending before it all falls apart? I hope this charade ends soon.’”
Hearing his blunt response, Roswitha’s pupils contracted for a moment.
She wasn’t the type to dig up old grievances or throw tantrums over past actions. Still, Leon’s answer gave her pause.
How far things had come—this former prisoner of war, once forcibly bound to her household, had now become an irreplaceable cornerstone of their family.
Roswitha lowered her silver eyes, the faintest hint of a smile curling at her lips.
Leon noticed her reaction and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. I wasn’t laughing,” she replied, hastily reverting to her usual icy demeanor.
Leon clicked his tongue in disbelief and then countered, “Alright, and what about you? What were you thinking back then?”
“I was thinking of ways to torment you,” Roswitha quipped.
“…Well, that fits my stereotype of you perfectly, dragon lady.”
Laughing softly, Roswitha playfully punched him in the chest before carefully placing the old photograph back into the drawer.
Then, she turned around and lightly leaned against the desk’s edge, gazing at Leon.
“Alright,” she said. “When was it, then?”
“When was what?”
“When did your thoughts change?”
Leon considered this for a moment. “Probably after Constantine’s invasion.”
Constantine, commissioned by the Empire, had come to the Silver Dragon Clan territory intending to assassinate Leon. Unfortunately for him, it ended up as a one-way trip.
After dealing with Constantine, Leon returned to the Empire, initiating a purge. It was during this campaign that he and Roswitha realized how much they depended on each other.
So, Leon's claim of having changed his mind after Constantine’s invasion was entirely valid. Roswitha’s own experiences mirrored his in this regard.
“Oh? That late?” Roswitha tilted her head, her smile teasing.
“Late? What did you think it was?”
The queen's countenance softened into a dazzling smile, her silver hair cascading gracefully as she hooked a delicate finger under Leon’s collar, pulling him closer.
Gazing into his dark and bottomless eyes, she murmured, “I thought it happened much earlier… because that would mean the great hero Casmode had finally been conquered by me, your queen.”
Leon narrowed his gaze, glancing briefly at the hand tugging at his collar before gripping her delicate wrist.
“Changing my mind means I was conquered by you?”
“What else could it mean?” Unfazed, Roswitha let her nails lightly graze his cheek.
“You’re wrong, Roswitha,” Leon said gravely. “The reason my thoughts changed… is that I had already conquered you.”
Releasing her wrist, Leon slipped an arm around her slender waist, pulling her closer.
Dark eyes met silver, sparking invisible flames between them.
By all rights, this would’ve been the perfect moment to kiss, to caress, and to return to the bedroom for, well, more passionate husband-and-wife activities.
Yet Roswitha, uncharacteristically, gently applied the brakes.
“We’ve got to get up early tomorrow to visit my sister, so let’s not overdo it tonight,” she said, delicately pushing him away, though the warmth in her smile lingered.
Leon ruffled his hair in mild frustration. It was just as well—the Dragon Mark hadn’t flared up. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have called it a night so easily.
Roswitha tilted her head, silver strands falling like silk as she teased, “Since it was Constantine's invasion that changed your mind, shouldn’t we thank him?”
Leon shrugged. “The last of his skulls has gone missing, and there’s not even a shrine left to honor him with joss sticks and candles. How do we thank him?”
Roswitha chuckled softly, concealing her mouth behind her hand. “What if his surviving kin used some obscure ritual to resurrect him into a giant zombie dragon? What would you do then?”
“What would I do? If I killed him once, I can kill him a second time.”
When it came to slaying dragons, General Leon never hesitated. “And I’d step on his zombie skull afterward just to remind him—winning the revival match doesn’t matter if you can’t secure the championship.”
