The sun slowly rose from beneath the horizon.

The first ray of golden light that illuminated the world felt like a glimmer of salvation.

All living things, having endured the coolness of the night, were finally graced by the warmth of the morning sun.

The sunlight was dazzling, and the morning breeze was so soothing—it was a moment one wished could last forever.

Except for a particular quarrelsome couple.

On the balcony of the queen’s chamber, two "corpses" leaned against the railing, their arms dangling limply as if they were marionettes whose strings had been cut.

“So... which erotic novel was it that taught you to 'go until dawn'? I swear I’ll burn it to ashes.”

“Heh... the book only mentioned 'going until around midnight'. But I—I am the Dragon Queen... far superior to any mere Dragon Clan character in a book, aren’t I?”

“Your Majesty, please, must this really become a contest? And over something that’s fictional, no less?”

But then again, any form of entertainment is an artistic exaggeration.

Those instances in books where actions last three or four hours could hardly be considered realistic.

And yet, Roswitha had somehow managed to take that exaggeration and multiply it tenfold—

The most absurd part was that, General Leon had managed to keep up.

If ever there were fated "troublemaker couples," these two were the prime example.

As a saying goes that "There’s no such thing as overworked soil, only overworked oxen."

But when it came to Roswitha and Leon, it should probably be:

“Indestructible soil, tireless oxen, stained bedsheets, and eternally mopped floors.”

After a brief rest, the two supported each other as they made their way from the balcony back into the living room.

However, they just stopped at the entrance, reluctant to step further inside.

The living room, where their "battle" had waged the night before, lay in utter disarray.

Roswitha’s legs wobbled slightly. With one hand on Leon’s shoulder and the other gripping the doorframe, she surveyed the chaotic scene of the room.

“Did we... do all of this?”

“Yes. Can’t you remember?”

“I...”

At that, the queen’s face, which had looked a little pale, immediately turned crimson.

She truly could not remember the specifics of last night. And, in the moment, she fully understood why that was the case.

She glanced at Leon sheepishly, inwardly praying he hadn’t figured it out—

“It’s only natural you don’t remember. After all, you weren’t exactly ‘conscious’ most of the time last night. For the majority of it, you were at your p—”

“Shut up!”

“Alright.”

Long periods of "turning in homework" had given General Leon what could be described as full educational expertise in the field of sexual knowledge.

Though he didn’t know about other women, at the very least he had discerned patterns for his female dragon. Her ascension to her peaks tended to follow an exponential curve.

For example, at the beginning, Roswitha might be in sync with Leon—his turn, then hers, taking delight in balance and harmony.

But as the sessions continued, her frequency would increasingly far exceed Leon’s.

This was precisely why every word Roswitha had spoken that morning came out in a hoarse tone.

All thanks to the damned man who had insisted last night that she call his name...

Yes, it had been exhilarating. But still... What’s so great about shouting it? Immature!

“What are these marks? Light and dark, all over the place?”

Roswitha asked, but then stiffened suddenly and inhaled sharply.

“Don’t tell me it’s your—”

“No. They’re yours.”

“And how do you know they’re mine?”

“You said last night that after everything, you’d use purification magic to cleanse your body thoroughly. So you told me to go ‘all-in.’”

A shiver ran through the queen as she exclaimed, “How can you say something so indecent with such a straight face?”

“Because whatever shame I had was completely obliterated during last night’s ‘battle.’”

“...”

A person utterly devoid of hesitation and shame is truly invincible!

Roswitha exhaled softly.

“I thought we were only going to be on the bed in the bedroom.”

Leon shrugged, his tone calm: “The bed was completely soaked. We had no choice but to move our ‘battlefield’ to the living room, the bathroom... even the entryway wasn’t spared—”

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Leon supported Roswitha over to the couch, laid a clean blanket over it, and then helped her sit down.

Afterward, Leon turned around to survey the mess in the room.

“Looking at the state of things, we can’t let the maids clean this up—unless you want them to find out that their Queen and Prince are actually ‘turning in homework’ addicts behind closed doors.”

Roswitha silently covered her face. “Let me rest for a bit, then we’ll clean up together.”

Her voice was still hoarse.

Leon thought for a moment, then tread over the littered debris on the floor toward the kitchen.

Before long, he returned with a cup of honey water.

He knelt by Roswitha’s side and handed the cup to her.

“Here, this should help soothe your throat.”

“Thanks.”

Roswitha took the cup and took a small sip.

The warm and gentle sweetness flowed smoothly down her throat, bringing comfort.

“I was thinking something over,” Roswitha said.

“What is it?”

“From now on, let’s try to end things before midnight.”

Leon blinked, then chuckled lightly.

“Oh, come on, Your Majesty. Midnight? That’s far too early! You’re the Dragon Queen—resilient and unmatched. Midnight? You’ve barely even warmed up by then. Even three o’clock shouldn’t be an issue.”

Roswitha gave him a sharp side-eye, then playfully flicked her feet out, lightly kicking him in the chest.

Leon caught it effortlessly.

Her small feet rested against his bare chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath and the steady beat of his heart.

His broad hand closed around her delicate ankles, preventing her from pulling free.

“Let go,” Roswitha said with mock seriousness.

“You were the one who offered them up, weren’t you? And now you want me to let go? Wishful thinking.”

Roswitha laughed in exasperation. Then, leaning into the banter, she grinned and asked, “What is it? Fancy some ‘dragon toe’ for breakfast?”

“Precisely. I didn’t get enough ‘dragon toe’ during last night’s supper. Why not have more for breakfast?”

“Go die, you idiot.”

With a bit of effort, Roswitha wrenched free from his grasp.

She stretched her long legs and leaned against the sofa, spreading her arms wide in a "hug me" gesture.

Leon took the cue, stood up, and sat beside her.

Finally, the queen allowed herself to fully relax and lean into Leon, finding comfort resting her weary body against his shoulder.

His upper body was bare, and Roswitha idly grazed her palm across his abs. Her soft fingers traced along the grooves of his muscles before wandering to his waist.

“Thank you for everything,” she said gently.

“It’s nothing. It wasn’t that hard.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

Roswitha poked at her husband’s side. “I was talking to it.”

Leon had been about to retort when a sly look crossed his face.

“Well then, if you’re thanking ‘it,’ isn’t there another part of me you should show some gratitude toward?”

Roswitha blinked in confusion.

“What?”

With that, Leon made as if to take off his pants—

“Hey! Stop it!!”

Roswitha quickly seized his wrist, giving his chest a playful thump.

“I’m thanking all of you, Leon. Happy now?”

A smug grin spread across General Leon’s face as he leaned back confidently with his legs crossed.

See? The Dragon Slayer Corps may have been disbanded, but my Dragon Slayer instincts remain sharp as ever!

In no time at all, he’d subdued his little dragon.

After some teasing and laughter, the couple nestled together on the couch, waiting patiently for their strength to return before tidying up the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Leon spotted something beneath the coffee table—an old piece of paper.

The drawer of the table was slightly ajar, likely knocked open during last night’s antics.

Leon picked up the paper with curiosity.

“What is it?” Roswitha leaned in to look, noticing rows of names written on the sheet.

They were the names of Dragon Kings.

The couple exchanged glances, memories of their past surfacing in their minds.

Long ago, they’d infiltrated the territory of the Crimson Flame Dragon Clan to investigate which Dragon Kings were secretly collaborating with the Empire. This list had been acquired from someone who had aspired to succeed Constantine as the next Crimson Flame Dragon King.

It contained the names of all the Dragon Kings who had covertly allied themselves with the Empire.

Roswitha skimmed through the list and remarked, “All of these Dragon Kings have either been taken out by you or recently judged at the Dragon Kings meeting.”

“Hmm...”

Leon contemplated for a moment before his gaze lingered on the last name at the bottom of the list.

“But, whether slain by me or already punished, none of them were this guy.”

Roswitha followed his gaze and read the name aloud:

“Warhammer Dragon King... Adam.”