After receiving these weighty revelations from Constantine, Leon had an unmistakable sense that the day this conspiracy would end was drawing ever nearer.

So when he said that his master's progress was the final piece of the puzzle, it was hardly an exaggeration.

The next meeting with his master was scheduled to take place in about a month.

Even if his master’s progress by then was slow, Leon could provide a solid, valuable lead.

Following the lead to collect evidence would be far better than stumbling around blindly with no direction.

"One way or another, we cannot let those Empire schemers run wild any longer."

That evening, Leon leaned slightly forward, resting on the railing of the balcony, his gaze fixed on the deep, vast night sky.

His mind was a jumbled mess. Although the day to topple the Emperor’s sinister conspiracy was near, this moment felt more like the darkest hour before dawn—the most perilous of times.

Every step from here on would have to be more cautious than ever.

Leon absolutely could not allow all they'd worked for to fall apart at the last hurdle.

The sharp sound of high heels clacking behind him interrupted his thoughts momentarily.

He turned to see the silver-haired beauty step up beside him, leaning against the railing as she gazed out into the distance. Her profile was stunning yet tinged with a faint weariness.

"Another busy day, Roswitha?" Leon initiated the conversation.

The queen gave him a weary smile. "Not too bad, I’m used to it. How about Noa and the others?"

"They’re already asleep."

"Oh... I guess I’ll need to get off work earlier tomorrow, or I won’t have time to say goodnight to my daughters."

"Muen mentioned before bed that it’s been three days since you said goodnight to them."

Roswitha shook her head, a little helpless, and rubbed her slightly sore neck, "The Dragon Clan’s external warfare has recently taken a new turn. Everyone's busy seeking allies, so in addition to clan affairs, I've had a lot more diplomatic duties to manage."

"A new turn?"

"Yes."

Roswitha spoke while settling onto the long bench on the balcony.

Her neck and shoulders had been aching, and now even her waist felt strained, making it hard for her to stand for long.

Seeing this, Leon quietly moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, beginning to massage them.

His strong, skillful fingers pressed into her shoulder muscles, the pressure precise and just right.

Roswitha could clearly feel each motion, her eyes closing as she leaned back slightly, savoring the massage from the former Empire’s most formidable Dragon Slayer.

"So, what’s the new development?" Leon asked while continuing the massage.

"Do you remember when you traveled to the future, the three-person squad that the Empire had formed?"

The three-person squad?

The movement of Leon’s hands paused slightly, and then he quickly understood whom Roswitha was referring to.

"The Blade Trio, right?"

"Yes, the Empire has already deployed them to the border battlefield, engaging in several clashes with the Dragon Clan stationed there."

Border skirmishes between territories weren’t uncommon, hardly dire enough to send Dragon Clan members scrambling for allies.

Unless, of course, the Dragon Clan hadn't won a single confrontation.

"The Blade Trio turned out to be just as you described them—seamlessly coordinated, with unfathomable strength."

Roswitha continued, "Originally, the Dragon Clan had pushed their frontlines outward significantly. But since the Blade Trio entered the battlefield, they’ve been forced to retreat, even losing a portion of their territory. It’s clear that these three... are absurdly strong."

In the future he visited twenty years from now, Leon had never witnessed the Blade Trio in action on the dragon-human battlefield, but he had briefly crossed paths with them.

He had to admit, each of them possessed power equivalent to that of a Dragon King, and the energy they wielded was completely unlike the human Empire's centuries-old magic system.

After considerable investigation, he eventually discovered that the energy they utilized was likely Primordial Power.

From Roswitha’s account, it seemed these three had now fully mastered their use of Primordial Power. Otherwise, there was no way they could force the proud Dragon Clan into rapid treaty-making.

"The last time I saw the Dragon Clan this united... was five years ago," Roswitha murmured.

"Five years ago?"

"Yes."

She tilted her head back, resting against the chair as her striking silver eyes gazed up at the man standing behind her.

Even from an upside-down perspective, she could fully appreciate his chiseled, sharp features.

"That man in black armor fought his way into my Silver Dragon Clan’s territory and nearly took me down."

Leon rolled his eyes wordlessly and shifted his hands from her shoulders to her cheeks, gently pinching her face.

"And didn’t I already ‘take you down’ now?"

"Let go!"

"I won’t."

"You!—"

Roswitha, ever stubborn, decided to retaliate in kind when he refused to release her. Raising her arm, she grabbed his face and returned the pinch.

Who would’ve thought? A pair of spouses, with a combined age over a hundred, bickering like squabbling schoolkids.

After a bit of playful wrestling, Leon was the first to let go.

Roswitha rubbed her slightly flushed cheek and shot him a glare. "You’re so childish, Casmode."

Leon also patted his slightly overheated face. "And yet it was this childish man who managed to rout your Dragon Clan five years ago."

"And then was gloriously captured by me."

"......"

Seeing his silent expression, Roswitha smiled with satisfaction.

Teasing her clueless "prisoner" husband wiped away most of her fatigue from the day.

Once the massage was over, Roswitha stood up and gave her limbs a luxurious stretch.

She looked genuinely rejuvenated, even wagging her tail slightly.

Feeling refreshed, Roswitha turned to face Leon, returning to their previous topic of discussion.

"Anyway, it seems that recently, the Dragon Clan territories near the borders are finally remembering the terror inflicted by the man in black armor."

Leon blinked and asked, "If everyone’s recalling the terror of the black armor, then why do you still look so carefree?"

Roswitha (blunt as ever): "Because the man in black armor is my husband."

"..."

When you put it like that, it’s hard to argue.

Although, it was a bit overwhelming to hear.

"Just kidding. My Silver Dragon Clan is located deeper in the Dragon Clan’s heartland. Even the former you needed years to get here, didn’t you?"

Leon nodded thoughtfully. "That’s true..."

"And besides, the day you clear your name and overthrow the Empire is almost here, right? When that day comes, it won’t matter whether it’s a trio or ten of them—they’ll all be irrelevant. This war will ease once the scheming of those with ambition is exposed."

Roswitha exhaled softly, flexing her elegant arms before turning her gaze back to the night sky.

Staring at the radiant moon above, Roswitha suddenly spoke again.

"Leon."

"Yeah?"

"When all this is over, will you leave this family?"

This family had come about purely by a twist of fate. Their being together today was rooted in a promise made long ago:

To give their daughters a happy childhood.

But as days turned to years, their daughters would eventually grow up, and the fall of the Empire loomed nearer. When that time came, would Leon still stay?

Roswitha knew Leon loved this home, their daughters, and... her, his nominal wife.

Yet, she didn’t know if he would choose to leave.

Or perhaps... she wanted to hear him say the answer himself.

Under the shimmering starlight, the couple locked eyes—black and silver, their gaze flickering ever so slightly.

After a long silence, Leon met her captivating eyes directly. Smiling, he answered,

"Have you forgotten, Your Majesty? I’ve already decided to rely on you for a lifetime."