In the practice field in the backyard of Silver Dragon Castle, Roswitha stood with her eyes slightly closed, her hands spread open, palms facing each other.
Before long, a faint milky white energy began to gather in her palms, and a visible cyclone formed around her as the energy swirled.
The energy continued to converge into Roswitha’s hands, forming the 'Primordial Power' required to activate Primordial Magic.
Roswitha worked to compress this Primordial Power, condensing it until it became a tiny bead of light about the size of a soybean.
Finally, she allowed herself to relax slightly, letting out a small sigh of relief.
In the past, this level of practice would have marked the end of her training for the day. Judging by her improved speed and efficiency at gathering Primordial Power, it could be said that her progress was remarkable.
But Roswitha was far from satisfied.
Since Leon had gone through the trouble of getting her a “martial arts manual” on Primordial Magic from his master, she was determined to put in extra hours of effort to practice.
After all, she couldn't let that scoundrel’s good intentions go to waste.
More importantly, at the core of her motivation was her insatiable desire to grow stronger.
The Human Empire had secretly colluded with certain factions of the Dragon Clan, and their ultimate goal was far more sinister than simply hunting down Leon.
Regardless of whatever schemes they were plotting, as the Queen of the Silver Dragon Clan, Roswitha had a solemn duty to protect her kin, to secure their place in this chaotic world, and to withstand the relentless tides of time.
To her, Primordial Magic was the bridge that would lead her to the next stage of power.
She needed to grow stronger—much stronger than she was now.
After a brief rest, Roswitha started to use the basic training techniques of "Soul Judgment" as outlined in the manual, channeling the Primordial Power she had just gathered.
However, this proved to be much harder than she had anticipated.
Primordial Power was vastly different from regular magical energy. Both its elemental transformation and its morphing of form were exceptionally difficult to control.
According to the manual, practicing "Soul Judgment" was a feat meant for "practitioners over 500 years of age with Dragon King-level strength."
As dragons aged, their understanding and mastery of magic naturally deepened, which made practicing Primordial Magic somewhat more manageable.
Additionally, Dragon King-level strength provided the "cost," or rather, the vast reservoir of Primordial Power necessary for practice.
Roswitha already met the requirement for Dragon King-level strength and even had the advantage of two Dragon Marks capable of storing immense amounts of magical energy, putting her well ahead of baseline.
But the 500-years-of-age requirement...
That was an entirely different story.
She couldn't exactly sit around and wait another 300 years to start practicing, could she?
By then, the proverbial day-old tea wouldn't just be stale—it might be Leon’s ashes alongside it (as he himself would often jest).
And so, Roswitha came up with her own plan:
If she didn’t have the years, she’d make up for it with time spent practicing.
If a 500-year-old dragon required six hours of daily training, then she would practice ten hours a day—or even more.
Who said Noa's tenacity as the "Involuted Queen" only came from her father?
Her mother had been every bit as intense, just in a much quieter way!
What's more, without mastering this newfound power quickly, the road Roswitha and Leon were on would only get harder and harder to walk.
She had to be fast.
She had to push herself relentlessly.
The burning sensation in her hands jolted Roswitha’s thoughts back to the present.
She frowned slightly, sweat dripping from her forehead and nose.
Despite her best efforts, the Primordial Power in her hands remained stubbornly unchanged, still stuck in its initial pure energy state.
"Damn it... The difficulty of this training is as high as I expected..."
After all, this was power brought forth from ancient times. That it had been lost to the tides of history was undoubtedly in part due to its nearly insurmountable difficulty.
But the Silver Dragon Queen was not one to back down in the face of challenges.
She loved the feeling of “conquering” most.
Since Roswitha could conquer that insufferable man, she could certainly conquer this uncooperative Primordial Power!
Energy erupted from all around her, creating gusts of wind that sent her silver hair flying, as if it were a silver sprite dancing in the air.
Her dragon pupils narrowed into slits, radiating a fierce and intimidating glare.
Faint signs of scales began emerging at the corners of her eyes.
When members of the Dragon Clan experienced heightened emotions, certain dragon traits—like slitted pupils and scales—would often manifest in their humanoid forms.
"Damn you! Can’t you at least give me some kind of reaction?!"
As if responding to Roswitha's complaints, the Primordial Power in her hands suddenly exploded with a bang, sending shockwaves outward and leaving her stumbling backward unsteadily.
Just as she was about to fall, someone appeared behind her and caught her in time.
Roswitha leaned against the person’s chest and looked up to see who it was. She heard him say, “Tsk, calling me a dog is one thing, but now you’re cursing Primordial Magic too? It’s not like it can talk back.”
Roswitha shot him a side-eye glare. “I’m mad. I’ll curse whomever—or whatever—I want. Got a problem with that?”
“What’s got you mad?”
“I’m mad at myself for being useless.”
“Hmm. Can’t argue with that.”
“You!—”
She was livid.
It’s one thing for her to call herself useless, but how dare he agree with her!
He was supposed to comfort her with something like, "Sweetheart, you’re not useless at all—how about we take a break, okay?" Wasn’t he?
“You left the pendant necklace your grandmother gave you at home this morning. Tell me that’s not proof you’re useless.”
As he spoke, Leon pulled the pendant from his pocket. "Here, I’ve been keeping it for you all day since it looked like you always wear it."
Roswitha froze, her hand reaching out to accept the necklace. She mumbled, “Oh... So that's what you mean by useless…”
“What did you think I meant?”
“I thought you meant I was useless because I couldn’t get the hang of Soul Judgment…”
Leon let out a chuckle as he playfully ruffled her hair. “Don’t be silly. Mastering a completely new form of magic takes time—it’s always a step-by-step process.”
The faintest flush of red bloomed across the Queen’s cheeks, and she was about to thank Leon for his encouragement.
Then it hit her.
“Wait a second—why does this feel like you’re talking to Noa?”
Leon shrugged. “Funny you should say that. I actually do speak to Noa like this quite often.”
Roswitha was left speechless. “I’m not a child, Leon.”
“Well, it seems to work, doesn’t it? Look at you—your face is red.”
“I—This blush is from the magical energy overheating me!”
“Whatever you say.”
Leon gently pushed back her silvery hair, revealing the graceful curve of her swan-like neck. “Let me help you put the necklace back on."
“…Fine…”
A moment later, the couple sat down on the grass to reflect together.
“So, what exactly is Soul Judgment? Is it an offensive magic, or is it something else?” Leon asked.
Roswitha pondered for a moment before shaking her head. “Traditional elemental magic can indeed be classified into offensive, defensive, supportive, or other categories. For example, your Chidori is offensive, while Void Shadow is defensive. But Primordial Magic doesn’t fall into any of those classifications.”
Leon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Not any of them?”
“Correct.”
Roswitha explained, “The effect—or rather, the ‘power’—of Soul Judgment doesn’t depend on the user. Instead, it depends entirely on the opponent.”
“Depends on the opponent?”
“Yes. The more intense their emotions, the stronger Soul Judgment will be. If successfully cast, it can even purify all of the opponent's negative emotions.”
Leon’s eyes lit up after he hearing this description.
In the current era, almost all magic was based on elemental manipulation. Battles boiled down to elemental clashes—whoever could outlast or overpower the other would win.
But an advanced magic like Soul Judgment? This was something altogether different—practically alien.
If traditional magic was akin to a great sword, then Primordial Magic was a great sword dipped in hot pepper sauce.
One simply cut; the other cut and left a burning scar.
“Truly impressive that your Dragon Clan ancestors left behind something so incredible. It’s got real potential,” Leon remarked with admiration.
But Roswitha sighed softly. “Incredible as it may be, if I can’t master it… what’s the point?”
As she spoke, she lifted her right hand and looked at her palm, now streaked with burn marks.
Burns like these were inevitable during magic training, so she didn’t give them much thought.
But while Roswitha wasn’t concerned, someone else clearly was.
Leon gently grasped her wrist, pulling her hand onto his knee. He reached for a jar of ointment nearby and began carefully applying it to her scorched skin.
As the cooling salve soothed her burns, Roswitha chuckled. “I’ve told you, I’m not a child. Something like this barely even hurts.”
“I’m not babying you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Taking the opportunity to hold your hand.”
“…”
Oh My God—who can stand the corny flirting of a married man?!
“This hand's done. Give me the other one.”
Roswitha rolled her eyes in exasperation but still obediently extended her another wounded hand.
“If it’s too difficult to master in your current approach, maybe we should try a different strategy?” Leon suddenly suggested, jumping back to their earlier topic.
“Hmm... how do we switch it?”
Leon looked up, glanced around the practice field, and then said, “You don’t even have a target to practice with here. It’s going to be hard to make any breakthroughs like this.”
Roswitha blinked. “A target to practice with... but where am I supposed to find a practice partner full of intense emotions?”
Leon’s thoughts flickered for a moment. Then, turning to Roswitha with confidence, he said,
“That’s easy. Leave it to me.”
