Not long after the negotiation between humans and dragons, the centuries-long, world-shaking war finally came to an official end.

Although Leon’s heart still lingered on the mysterious figure known as “Shadow,” peaceful days were hard to come by. Even if temporary, they should be cherished and enjoyed to the fullest.

So, for now, let the worries, the countless schemes, and every other mess roll far, far away.

After all, General Leon was now returning to his role as a stay-at-home dad.

Not voluntarily, of course—he was forced into “retirement.”

Once, he had been the Empire’s strongest Dragon Slayer.

But now, the Empire was gone, the war between humans and dragons had ended, and naturally, a Dragon Slayer like him had instantly been rendered “jobless.”

A stable, peaceful life mattered more than anything else!

However...

Even though dragon-slaying was no longer necessary, living in a dragon’s den meant Leon still had to engage in daily battles of wits—and sometimes strength—with a certain silver dragon.

The Fake War Between Humans and Dragons:

Both sides fought viciously, struggling for over a century, only for the conflict to conclude with devastating losses on both ends.

The Real War Between Humans and Dragons:

You lazy man, if you don’t "turn in homework" twice tonight, don’t even think about getting any sleep!

The saying “one thinks of lust once their basic needs are met” doesn’t apply solely to humans; it’s also fitting for Dragon Queens—especially those married for almost six years, now entering their most... *active* phase.

At dinner, Roswitha ate very little.

After finishing her meal, she rose slowly, walked over behind Leon’s chair, placed her soft palms gently on his shoulders, and murmured in a low voice.

“Don’t stay up too late playing with the girls. Come back to the bedroom early.”

It’s common knowledge that couples married for years develop a certain level of tacit understanding—

Including all sorts of euphemistic “code phrases” for turning in homework.

For example, phrases like “Honey, I bought a beautiful new nightgown recently. Want to see it?”

Or “Hey, my back is itching a little. Can you help scratch it?”—classic preludes to “getting things done.”

Leon and Roswitha were no different.

When she said, “Don’t stay up too late playing with the girls,” what she really meant was...

Tonight, she wanted to stay up with him all night long.

Leon paused in the middle of eating, glancing sideways at the delicate hand resting on his shoulder. A thought crossed his mind: his body hadn’t fully recovered yet, and this time, but the dragoness definitely wouldn’t agree to play *OIO* again.

Which meant that, should a "battle" arise tonight, Leon would undoubtedly be at a disadvantage.

"Well, um... I still need to teach Noa some magic tonight, right?”

“No need, Dad. I want to practice on my own tonight.”

The Involuted Queen planned to train her Primordial Magic using the recently obtained Nightshade Crystal alongside the ancestor spirit in her mind, so she politely declined her dad’s company.

“... Then, uh, I still have to play the Dragon Knight game with Muen.”

“Daddy, you told Muen just yesterday that we shouldn’t play violent games like Dragon Knight anymore. Muen’s being super obedient, just like you said!”

Though Muen didn't knew the battle between humans and dragons was over, she knew to listen to her father. When Daddy said no, that meant no.

“... L-little Aurora—”

“If I refused Dad, wouldn’t that make tonight even more fun, right?”

Aurora, the Dragon of Joy, didn’t quite understand adult matters, but judging by her father’s reaction, she knew that declining him would invariably lead to something “interesting” happening later.

So, after asking around, Leon found himself grasping at straws that weren’t even there—every single “saving grace” had failed him.

In the end, the Dragon Queen leaned down, moving closer to his ear. She lowered her voice and whispered,

“Trust me, little lion. Tonight, you’ll see exactly what you’ve always wanted to see.”

With that, Roswitha gently patted Leon’s face, bid her daughters goodnight, and left the dining room, heels clicking softly against the floor.

Initially, Leon was determined to take a “procrastinate while you can” approach to the situation.

But after he hearing those words from Roswitha, his mind completely changed.

Roswitha knew what Leon most wanted to see;

Leon knew that she knew what he most wanted to see;

Everyone knew what General Leon most wanted to see.

And so—

“Noa, focus on practicing your magic! Muen, think of new games! Aurora, feel free to turn Dad down without a care in the world! Lastly, no matter what, nobody should come looking for Dad tonight, got it~?”

The little dragon girls stared in confusion as their father bolted out of the dining room, his speed so astonishing that Noa couldn’t help but wonder if their dad was now so well-off that he used lightning magic just for running.

Aurora blinked, then sniffed before chuckling softly.

“What a childish adult.”

Noa stopped and looked at her little sister. “You think adults can be childish sometimes too?”

“Of course!”

“Oh? How so?”

“I already feel no guilt refusing Dad’s requests!” The little pink-haired dragon raised her tail proudly.

“... So that’s what you meant.”

Noa sighed and hopped off her chair. “I’m heading to the practice field. Might be late—you don’t need to wait up for me.”

“Okay, big sis~!”

Noa left the dinging room, too.

Aurora squinted slightly, gazing at her elder sister’s retreating back until she disappeared around the corner.

“Aurora, let’s brainstorm some new game ideas together~!” Muen suggested.

Aurora pondered briefly before replying,

“No need. I’ve already decided what game to play tonight.”

---

Leon returned to his room, stepping into the bedroom to find Roswitha lying on the bed.

She was tightly cocooned under a blanket, with only her face and neck visible.

Leon stared, puzzled. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sick,” the Dragon Queen replied in a voice that awkwardly tried to sound weak and frail.

“But you were perfectly fine five minutes ago.”

“... Oh, come on, I’m really sick! Feel for yourself; I’m burning up.”

It didn't seem like she was joking.

Leon immediately grew serious, jogging to her bedside to crouch down and press his hand gently to her forehead.

“Hmm... It doesn’t feel hot.”

“I never said it was my forehead that was hot.”

“Then where—”

Before he could finish, Roswitha’s hand emerged from under the blanket and lightly rested atop his.

Leon glanced down. That look was enough to freeze him in place, as his eyes became locked on her hand.

Her hands were always beautiful—slender, delicate, seemingly boneless—though he’d grown quite accustomed to the sight of them.

This time, however, something was different. A decorative accessory adorned her wrist—something resembling a cuff, but far more exquisite than anything functional.

Before Leon could figure out what on earth the dragoness was scheming, she began guiding his hand underneath the blanket.

A surge of warmth instantly engulfed his palm.

But the warmth wasn’t the feverish heat one might expect from illness—it was simply the kind of heat retained from body warmth trapped beneath a thick blanket.

“Dragoness, what exactly are you up to? Weren’t you saying I’d get to see something good? Is it you playing sick?”

Roswitha softly bit her lips, her eyes dripping with seduction. “Be patient, little lion. Go deeper... just a bit farther now...”

She continued leading Leon’s hand further under the covers. Suddenly, his fingers brushed against something unusual.

Judging by the position, it seemed as though Roswitha had placed his hand on her leg.

But her skin—smooth and supple—was all too familiar to Leon. This... felt different.

Right now, the sensation bore a closer resemblance to the touch of thin silk, clinging tightly to Roswitha’s legs and conveying her body heat to his fingertips.

“Tell me, Leon, what are you feeling right now?”

“Uh... your leggings?”

Since Roswitha often wore dresses, her wardrobe staples naturally included leggings for modesty.

But as soon as the words left his lips, Leon internally dismissed his own answer—

This fabric didn’t feel like leggings at all.

Roswitha giggled, rolling her eyes flirtatiously.

“Let me give you a hint—it’s a type of stocking.”

“Stocking...?”

Leon swallowed, his lips tightening. A daring guess welled up inside him.

“Could it be... black stockings?”

The Queen smiled, a sly glimmer in her eye. “Congratulations, little lion. You guessed correctly.”

As she spoke, she pulled the blanket back slightly.

What came into view first were her delicate feet, toes wiggling under the black stockings, petite and adorable;

Then her smooth ankles, shapely calves, and her perfect thighs—

The black stockings, clinging tightly to her creamy skin, rendered her legs a masterpiece, seductive and alluring, hidden just enough to pique curiosity.

The blanket stopped just at her upper thighs.

Extending her hand once more, Roswitha hooked one finger lightly under Leon’s chin, tilting his gaze toward hers.

“If you want to see what’s above, you have to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

Roswitha’s lips parted, forming a sensuous smile. Her voice turned into a sultry melody.

“From now until the sun rises tomorrow... don’t~ stop~ for~ a~ second~.”