**Question:** When can a person think most clearly?

**Answer:** During “the sage’s time.”

In reality, Rosvisser didn’t usually experience this so-called “sage’s time” after completing “assignments” with Leon. On several occasions, even after an intense all-night battle, she would still be able to get up and head to the study to continue working.

But tonight was different. After Leon opened his first gate, he seemed to have transformed into a reborn warrior god, forcing the proud Silver Dragon Queen into her own version of “sage’s time.”

As a result, the couple now lay in bed without any drowsiness and no desire to continue their earlier passionate entanglement.

Thinking through various matters was often how the two of them passed the time on such occasions.

Leon leaned back against the headboard, hands behind his head, his gaze falling on *The Gate of Nine Infernos*, which had been kicked to the end of the bed during their “battle.”

He blinked, then crawled over to retrieve the book.

“I just remembered, there’s something odd about this book.”

Leon settled back against the headboard and flipped through the pages as he spoke.

Rosvisser casually smoothed her disheveled hair, the strap of her nightgown barely hanging on her shoulder. “What’s so strange about it?”

“This book says that to open the first gate, you need the assistance of someone at Dragon King level.”

Rosvisser nodded, “Yes, isn’t that why you asked me to help you tonight?”

“But this is a book my master risked his life to get out of the Empire.”

“Mhm… so?”

Leon straightened up, looking at Rosvisser as he spread the book open. “So why would a human-created martial art use a Dragon King as the standard for measuring strength?”

Rosvisser’s hand froze mid-motion as she fixed her hair, and she began to think alongside Leon. “That’s true. According to your human standards, you’d usually use letters like ‘S’ or ‘A’ to rank power, right?”

Leon nodded, “Exactly. And using the term ‘Dragon King level’ seems far too specific.”

He paused, muttering to himself, “My master knew I had you, a Dragon King, by my side, so he gave me this book, confident I could master it. But what about other practitioners? Where would they find a Dragon King-level assistant?”

Matching a human’s strength to that of a Dragon King was an incredibly difficult task.

Throughout all of human history, those who reached Dragon King-level strength were either long dead or had retreated from the world into solitude.

And people like General Leon—who could match, or even surpass, a Dragon King—were rare, emerging only once every few centuries.

So... this martial art, *The Gate of Nine Infernos*, didn’t seem like it was intended for humans at all.

What was the creator of this technique thinking, developing such a dangerous and difficult martial art for humans?

“Do you think...” Rosvisser spoke after a brief silence, “this technique wasn’t created by humans at all? Could it have been developed by a dragon?”

Leon froze for a moment at her suggestion.

Her theory wasn’t without merit.

As they had discussed, the term “Dragon King level” was far too specific for humans.

But if the technique was designed with dragons in mind, then using “Dragon King level” as a benchmark made perfect sense.

Each race had its own way of measuring power.

As Rosvisser mentioned, humans used rankings like ‘S’ or ‘A,’ while dragons had different methods. Sometimes they also used letters, but in many cases, they categorized power using terms like “Dragon King level,” “Quasi-Dragon King level,” or “Super Dragon King level,” which were self-explanatory.

“So, my master gave me a dragon’s martial art to learn...” Leon chuckled wryly. “What if I end up growing a tail while training? I really don’t want that to happen!”

Rosvisser giggled and playfully kicked his backside. “What’s wrong with having a tail? Tails are great!”

Leon’s expression turned serious as he responded, “No, they’re not.”

“Tch, you’ve never experienced the joy of having a tail, so of course you wouldn’t understand.”

Rosvisser huffed and proudly flicked the tip of her long silver tail, which was stretched out on the bed. “You’ll never know how wonderful it is to have a tail.”

“Thank you for your kind wishes, Mistress Merkwis,” Leon said sarcastically.

Rosvisser shot him a glance and decided to drop the playful banter, returning to the topic at hand. “There’s actually a simple way to find out whether this martial art was developed by humans or dragons.”

“Oh? How?”

Rosvisser nodded toward the book in Leon’s hands. “Check who the author is.”

Leon rolled his eyes. “You’ve lived for over two hundred years, and you don’t know that the author and the creator of these kinds of techniques are often not the same person?”

This practice was common across different races.

First, it protected the privacy and safety of the creator.

Second, many creators excelled at combat but weren’t skilled at recording their theories in writing, so they relied on others to compile and document their work into books that could be passed down.

Of course, some creators didn’t care about such things and published their own books without any middlemen—those were the rare exceptions.

Rosvisser shrugged. “Of course, I know that. But my point is, even if the author and the creator aren’t the same person, they’re still from the same race, right?”

Leon smiled faintly and tossed the book into her lap. “I already checked earlier today. The author is someone I’ve never heard of.”

Rosvisser flipped open the book to the first page, where the author’s name was written:

**Claudia Poseidon.**

The name itself wasn’t particularly remarkable, but the surname sent a chill down Rosvisser’s spine.

She stared at the name “Poseidon,” unable to tear her eyes away.

Leon noticed her reaction and gently shook her shoulder. “Hey, Rosvisser? Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh... I-I’m fine.”

Leon glanced at the author’s name again and asked, “Do you know this author?”

Rosvisser tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to compose herself. “Not exactly. I’m just familiar with the surname.”

“Surname? Poseidon, right? I noticed it earlier today as well. It seems like a rare name—I’ve never met anyone with that surname.”

Rosvisser let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. “Of course, you haven’t, you idiot. That’s because... it’s a dragon clan name.”

Hearing this, Leon was briefly surprised before muttering an understanding “Oh.” “So, this really is a technique developed by dragons.”

“But why would a dragon’s technique be stored in the human empire?”

“It could’ve been spoils of war after defeating some dragon. That’s pretty common, isn’t it?” Leon suggested.

Rosvisser bit her lip. “No, I don’t think so. It’s not likely a spoil of war.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because Poseidon is the royal family name of the Sea Dragon Clan, and the Sea Dragons... haven’t been seen for over thirty years. How could they have been defeated?”

Her words hung in the air, and a heavy silence fell over the room.

The couple simultaneously looked down at the old book, *The Gate of Nine Infernos*.

A flood of questions suddenly overwhelmed Leon’s mind.

How had his master obtained a martial art created by the Sea Dragon Clan, a clan that had vanished thirty years ago?

Did his master really risk everything to smuggle the book out of the empire as he claimed?

If his master had hidden the true origins of *The Gate of Nine Infernos*, what were his motives?

And the person who had given this book to his master... who were they really?