The pride of a Dragon Slayer refused to let Leon wait idly for his fate. He would not sit by and let the mother dragon drain his life and will until he was a hollow shell. He had to act, to fight back in the only way left to him.
After a short rest, a sliver of strength returned to his limbs. He rose from the bed and went to the window, studying the landscape. The path his army had used to assault the Silver Dragon Temple two years ago was etched into his memory. In that time, Rossweise had made few changes to her stronghold. That familiar route was his spark of hope in the darkness—a way to slip out unnoticed.
Leon's plan was simple: escape. Was he truly expected to remain in this dragon's den, to be used and shamed by Rossweise again and again? His spirit, the core of who he was as a slayer, rebelled violently against the notion.
The dragon mark she had branded on his chest meant he could never return to the Empire as "Leon Cosmodeous, the Dragon Slayer." It was a permanent curse, a symbol of his ultimate defeat.
It would be the greatest shame of his life. The whispers, the mocking laughter—his former glory would turn to dust in the eyes of those who once revered him.
He would have to leave everything behind: his fame, his rank, his wealth. He would have to live under a new name, to start over as a nobody. The thought was a deep, aching loss, but freedom was worth any price.
No matter what, getting away was a victory. He made quick, efficient preparations. First, he scoured the room.
If Rossweise had kept him here for two years, there had to be health potions nearby. His body was still weak, like a convalescent's. Without potions to restore his stamina, he wouldn't get far before collapsing.
Rifling through drawers and cabinets, he struck gold: a full case of nutritional potions in the bedside table, each vial glowing faintly with restorative magic. Next, he looked for any non-perishable food and found a stash of dry biscuits and preserved fruit, likely placed there for when he awoke. A bitter mix of gratitude and anger swelled within him—she had preserved his body, but only to serve as her plaything.
Finally, he considered leaving a scathing note for Rossweise, something to mock her and vent his fury. But after a moment's thought, he dismissed the idea. If he were caught with such a thing, she would undoubtedly use it to humiliate him further, perhaps even parading it before her entire clan.
And then there was the little dragon girl, Muen...
He saw it as a bitter divorce where the mother took everything. He couldn't take her with him; she was too young and would slow him down. Even if he tried, she likely wouldn't come. She might even betray him to Rossweise. Her dragon features—the tail, the silver streaks in her hair—were unmistakable. She was more dragon than human.
Having been raised by Rossweise for two years, her loyalty would naturally lie with her mother. A pang of sadness, sharp and surprising, hit him. He was leaving a piece of himself behind. But escape had to come first. Win or lose, he had to try with all his heart.
Leon packed the potions and food into a shoulder bag he found, threw on a hooded shirt to conceal his face, and slipped quietly out of the room. He expected guards, but the hallway was deserted. Not a soul in sight. This was his chance. He pressed himself against the wall, pausing at every corner to peer carefully before moving.
His heart hammered against his ribs with every cautious step. But his knowledge of the temple's interior was flawed. He took several wrong turns, wasting precious minutes before finding the correct path. Sweat beaded on his forehead, a cocktail of fear and exhilaration coursing through him.
What astonished him more was the complete lack of guards at the temple's main entrance.
"How does the Silver Dragon Temple look like it fired its entire staff...?" he muttered, utterly bewildered.
He again briefly entertained the idea of that sarcastic note. No. Focus. He took a few more confusing turns before finally spotting a side exit.
Leon swallowed, his throat dry as dust. "No matter. I'll run first and think later."
After a final scan of his surroundings, he dashed down the temple steps, sprinted across the courtyard, and made for a smaller side gate.
He ducked into a thicket of bushes near the gate, peering out secretly. Four dragon guards stood vigilant at the entrance. Charging out in his weakened state was impossible.
Darn it.
Was his escape over before it had truly begun? After all that hope?
Think, Leon. Use your mind.
What would his old master do here? Leon paused. Better not think of that. The old man would inevitably choose the simplest, most undignified path—like crawling through a drainage hole.
No, it wasn't a drainage hole. It was... larger than that.
Leon stood, gauging the size of the opening in the wall, and found it fit him perfectly! As if it had been made for him.
Leon's eyes lit up with triumphant joy. "Sometimes luck just arrives, and you can't refuse it!"
He scrambled through the hole and successfully escaped the Silver Dragon Temple. Freedom tasted sweet, the night air cool and clean on his face.
He did not know that Rossweise watched his every move from the temple roof.
Muen sat on the stone railing, pointing at Leon's distant figure. "Mother, look! Dad runs so fast! He's really amazing!" Her voice was full of childish wonder.
"Yes, I saw. He is quite spirited," Rossweise said, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
"But... didn't Dad suspect? He got away so easily. It's because of you, Mother," Muen looked up, her curiosity plain.
"He desires freedom. What's wrong with that?" Rossweise replied, a mix of amusement and something softer—perhaps an understanding of his desperate drive—in her tone. "Besides, he just woke up. His mind is still clouded from sleep."
"Um... Mother, when will you bring Dad back?" Muen blinked her large, luminous eyes.
Leon had noticed Muen's dragon traits, yes. But her bright, expressive eyes were entirely human, filled with innocence and warmth.
Rossweise knelt slowly, placing a gentle index finger on Muen's lips. "When we talk about Dad, we don't say 'bring him back.' That isn't polite."
Muen tilted her head, confused. "Then what do we say?"
Rossweise chuckled, then her expression turned serious and intent. "We snatch him back." Her eyes sparkled with fierce determination, like a player who had already planned every move of the game.
(:)
With his energy waning, Leon reached a riverbank late into the night. He stopped to rest and eat. He chugged a bottle of the nutritional potion first, feeling a surge of warmth and strength return to his muscles. He then devoured some biscuits, the crunch loud in the quiet night. He knelt by the river, scooping up cold, clear water with his hands to quench his powerful thirst.
Feeling replenished, Leon sat back, waiting patiently for his body to recover further. He looked across the flowing water. Beyond this river, two more mountains, and he would be near the human border.
Once there, his escape would be half-complete. Now, with a moment to think, Leon's mind circled back to the unsettling ease of it all.
From leaving his room to finding the exit, he'd faced almost no resistance.
"If the guards were this lax two years ago, we wouldn't have had to fight so hard," he muttered, a deep frown creasing his forehead.
What was really going on—
"Shh—"
Suddenly, soft, deliberate footsteps sounded from behind him.
Leon leaped to his feet, spinning around instantly, his body tensed for a fight.
A tall, slender figure emerged from the shadows with languid grace.
"You run quite well, Leon," the voice stated, dripping with scorn and a hint of teasing.
"Rossweise..."
"Your daughter misses you. Let me take you home." Her words were calm, but carried the weight of an unyielding command.
"I am not going back with you!" Leon declared, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.
Rossweise offered a light, infuriating smile. She stepped fully into the moonlight, standing before Leon. Her posture was utterly relaxed, a stark contrast to his coiled tension.
She looked directly into his dark, defiant eyes and said slowly, "So, where is it you wish to go? Back to the Empire?"
With that, Rossweise reached out and tapped a single finger against his chest, right over the brand. "Don't forget, Dragon Slayer, your chest bears my mark. You can never return to the Empire as a slayer again. Do you understand?" The tap sent a cold shiver through him, a visceral reminder of his bondage.
Leon swatted her hand away violently, stumbling back two steps. "Then I'll start a new life as a common man! Anything is better than being your tortured prisoner here!" His voice trembled with rage and desperation.
"Tch, foolish man." She sighed theatrically. "Fine. Since you want to go home so badly, I'll help you."
What did she mean?
After a moment of silence, a deafening dragon roar split the night sky. Immediately after, a colossal silver dragon stood where Rossweise had been.
The great beast was magnificent, her scales gleaming, her breath a low rumble, her eyes holding ancient grandeur. She towered over him, a living monument of power.
This was Rossweise's true dragon form. It was overwhelming, sacred, and utterly terrifying. Just being in her presence, Leon felt an immense pressure, his breath catching in his throat. His legs threatened to buckle, old battle instincts and primal fear surging through him.
Rossweise said nothing more. She merely lowered her head, jaws parting slightly to reveal glistening fangs, and nudged him toward her back. Understanding dawned on him. Forcing a calm he didn't feel, and refusing to retreat or protest, he placed a hand on her hard, cool scales and asked, "Where, exactly, are you taking me?"
"To your dream home—The Empire." Her voice was a deep, earth-shaking rumble.
With no other choice, Leon climbed onto her back, a sense of profound unease settling in his gut. What game was she playing now? The night wind whipped around them as they ascended, his mind a whirlwind of dread and unanswered questions. The mark on his chest seemed to pulse, a chain he could not break, no matter how far he ran.