That evening, Leon went to Rosvisser’s study.

She wasn’t working late as she usually did. Instead, she was writing a letter to her sister, Isha, informing her that their grandmother had returned and would be staying with them for a few days before visiting her. Rosvisser was advising her sister to prepare in advance.

Leon stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, watching Rosvisser as she focused on writing. Slowly, he spoke.

“The old Dragon King mentioned she had an expedition in the far north. What was that about? What exactly are they investigating up there?”

Without looking up from her letter, Rosvisser continued writing. “Dragons don’t follow a hereditary system like humans do. My grandmother isn’t some old Dragon King,” she corrected him.

After setting the letter aside and sealing it in an envelope, Rosvisser added, “As for the far northern expedition, I’m not entirely sure. I only know she’s been involved in it for many years.”

The far north of the continent was a desolate, frozen wasteland, perpetually covered in ice and snow, where even dragons couldn’t survive for long—let alone other species.

It was said that the ice in the far north was so thick that not even the fire of the Flame Dragon King, Constantine, could melt through it.

This claim was debatable, of course. After all, no one knew if Constantine had ever truly pushed himself to his limits. 

But then again, no one would ever find out now, would they? (*chuckles*)

From Leon’s perspective, there didn’t seem to be anything worth investigating in the far north, especially not something important enough to warrant an expedition lasting decades.

Rosvisser’s thoughts were similar. She figured her grandmother was using the expedition as a convenient excuse. Whatever they were actually doing up there, her grandmother wasn’t going to share the details.

And since the grandmother wasn’t talking, neither Rosvisser nor Leon pushed the matter further.

After sealing the letter, Rosvisser stood up and, wearing her dragon-wing slippers, walked out to the balcony.

Leon followed her.

The messenger dragon was already waiting on the balcony railing, its small wings fluttering in anticipation. Rosvisser placed the letter into the bamboo tube on its back and gently patted its head.

The messenger dragon chirped in acknowledgment and took off into the night sky.

Leon, still standing behind her, asked, “About those Dragon Kings your grandmother mentioned earlier—Ravi and the others—do you have any idea who they are?”

Rosvisser leaned on the balcony railing, her gaze sweeping across the stars and the moon. “They’re very old Dragon Kings. Ravi, for instance, is even older than Constantine.”

Leon nodded thoughtfully.

They were certainly ancient monsters.

These three Dragon Kings were ones he had never encountered during his military campaigns.

He had no idea how powerful they were.

But if they were similar to Constantine… well, he didn’t need to worry too much.

Taking out Constantine with a single burst of mana didn’t mean Leon had to expend all his energy. 

To put it simply:

Imagine two students, one a high-achieving scholar and the other a genius, both taking the same test. The scholar scores 100, and so does the genius. 

The scholar smugly says, "See, we’re on the same level!"

The genius calmly replies, "No. You scored 100 because that’s your limit. I scored 100 because that’s the test’s limit."

In Leon’s case, one mana bar was enough to take down Constantine. If a few more Dragon Kings showed up? Well, he could manage to handle them too, with a bit of extra effort.

But what really caught Leon’s attention wasn’t just the raw strength of the Dragon Kings; it was the mention of **spatial magic**.

“Your grandmother said Ravi suddenly withdrew from their expedition, and soon after, the other two Dragon Kings also vanished. Their common trait was that they all knew how to use spatial magic,” Leon said, his tone contemplative. “Can you explain what spatial magic is all about?”

Human magic research had only spanned a few centuries, but dragons had millennia of knowledge. 

As well-versed as Leon was in ancient knowledge, he hadn’t learned things that had never appeared in human history—like spatial magic.

“Oh, that… well, even for dragons, spatial magic is relatively new. Star-Wandering Dragon King Ravi became a Dragon King three hundred years ago by inventing his own spatial magic,” Rosvisser explained.

“Later, a few other Dragon Kings started following Ravi’s lead, experimenting with spatial magic. It’s still in its early stages, but as you saw, it’s useful. We don’t know what my grandmother was doing in the far north, but it’s clear she needed Ravi’s spatial magic to help. When Ravi left, their expedition stalled.”

“Oh, I see…” Leon rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Rosvisser turned to face him, leaning back against the railing. “You seem to have something on your mind.”

Having lived together for so long, she could easily tell when Leon was scheming something.

Leon smiled faintly. “It’s not much, just a gut feeling.”

“A gut feeling?” Rosvisser tilted her head.

“Yeah. Constantine was a Dragon King I had never heard of or fought before. Even in your dragon circles, he hadn’t been active for years. Then he suddenly showed up, only to get exposed for his secret dealings with the Empire.”

Leon continued, “And now these three Dragon Kings—Ravi and the others—I’d never heard of them either. Are they also low-profile figures in dragon society?”

Rosvisser’s eyes lit up as she made the connection. “You’re right. Ravi and the others rarely appear in dragon society. Everyone assumed they were focused on their spatial magic research. But now that you mention it… it’s easy to connect them to Constantine.”

Leon shrugged. “The idea makes sense, but we need more proof.”

Rosvisser knew what he meant. “You’re talking about Constantine’s close confidant.”

“Yeah. It’s been four months now. The turmoil within the Flame Dragon Clan should have settled by now, right?”

Leon was growing impatient.

Rosvisser understood his frustration.

This was about more than just a random investigation. It was about Leon’s sense of honor. He needed to understand why the human empire he had once served had relentlessly pursued him and why they had allied with the dragons.

“Once Grandma leaves, we’ll head to the Flame Dragon Clan and track that guy down,” Rosvisser promised.

Leon raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Oh? Finally, I get to stretch my legs a bit?”

Rosvisser chuckled. It had been far too long since Leon had fought anyone, and it seemed to be driving him a little stir-crazy.

After exchanging a few more words, the couple seamlessly shifted away from the heavy topic.

Their nerves and minds needed a break from the constant tension.

Rosvisser had already prepared a bottle of wine on a small table on the balcony.

And… two glasses.

Her grandmother’s visit and the information she had shared were incredibly useful, but they had also added stress to Rosvisser’s already heavy workload.

The Silver Dragon Queen had two ways of dealing with stress: either through her “captive” or through alcohol.

Her captive, however, had recently gained some buffs, making him harder to control. If she wasn’t careful, she might end up on the losing side.

So, Rosvisser had to settle for drinking.

She sat at the wooden table, crossing her legs. Her silky dress slid along her smooth skin, gathering at the top of her thighs, revealing the lace trim of her black lingerie beneath.

Was this little firecracker trying to seduce someone? Leon wasn’t falling for it.

He didn’t sit down. Instead, he remained standing on the opposite side of the table, making sure his gaze stayed above board.

Rosvisser poured herself a glass of wine, the liquid flowing into the cup with a satisfying glug.

She picked it up, taking a small sip, the cool wine leaving a pleasant aftertaste in her mouth as she enjoyed the gentle breeze of the night.

“You know, Leon,” she said, her voice layered with meaning, “I poured two glasses.”

In other words, *join me*.

“What? One glass isn’t enough for you anymore?” Leon pretended not to understand.

Rosvisser rolled her eyes.

She knew all too well that she had to be direct with him. If she didn’t, he’d just play dumb.

“Drink with me,” she commanded. Her tone was short, yet there was an authority behind it that wasn’t easily refused.

*Not easily refused?*

*Well, today I’m refusing it!*

Leon wasn’t about to comply.

“I won’t,” Leon said. “You know I can’t drink.”

Rosvisser leaned forward, resting her arms on the table and propping her chin on her hands. Her slip dress’s strap slid off her shoulder as she looked at Leon through her wine glass.

In her view, Leon’s head seemed to balloon in size, turning him into a “big-headed baby.”

She giggled a bit and then pouted playfully, her voice tinged with a hint of a plea. “Come on, drink with me. I’m so stressed.”

Leon closed his eyes, unmoved.

*She’s pretending. It’s all an act.*

“Leooon~”

*Not listening. I’m selectively deaf.*

“Leee~oon~”

*Cut it out, dragon, I’m starting to gag.*

“Dearest Cassmod~”

*Give it up. No matter what you call me, I won’t

 drink with you.*

“Husband.”

“… Coming.”

*Don’t get the wrong idea—I’m just giving in because I couldn’t stand it anymore, not because she called me ‘husband’!*