Late in the evening, Leon sat in Rosvisser’s study, flipping through an ancient document.

He hoped to find some clues about Primordial Magic within its pages.

Most of the time, he didn’t find much, but right now, this painstaking method of sifting through information was his only way of understanding Primordial Magic.

Soon, the sound of footsteps came from the doorway. Rosvisser walked in, her feet snug in dragon-wing slippers.

She had just finished her bath, her long silver hair still damp and cascading down her back. Her smooth, pale arms still glistened with heat and small droplets of water.