Leon opened his eyes slowly.
Before him was—
Um!
A pair of eyes gazed at him. They had pale blue pupils, clear and moist, like fresh spring water. Long eyelashes fluttered, making them incredibly adorable.
"Daddy, you're awake!" the little voice chirped with joy.
Little Muen was perched by Leon's pillow in a cute crouch. She had been waiting patiently for him to wake. When she saw his eyes open, her young face lit up with pure, unadulterated happiness.
The tuft of silver hair on her head and the small tail behind her swayed gently with her excitement. It was a tell-tale sign of her thrill, much like a puppy wagging its tail.
Leon's mind felt a little clearer. He tried to push himself up. Seeing this, Muen immediately stepped forward. She held his arm and helped him lean back against the headboard. Her small hands were warm and soft, full of innocent care.
Just as Leon was about to thank her, he felt a twinge of pain in his hand.
He looked down and saw his right hand neatly wrapped in a bandage. This was from last night in the forest, when he had grabbed Rossweise's wrist to stop her from unleashing her Dragon Flame on the slayer squad. The magic had seared his skin.
It was bandaged now. Who had done it while he slept?
"I wrapped Daddy's hand! It was me!" Muen announced proudly.
Seeing Leon stare at the bandage, the little girl couldn't wait to claim credit. She puffed out her chest, and her little tail wagged even higher, like a tiny victory flag.
Leon managed a tired smile. He reached up and ruffled Muen's hair gently. "Yeah, Muen, you're amazing." His voice was soft, carrying a warmth that surprised even him, given his exhaustion.
Being petted by Leon made Muen even happier. Like a contented kitten, she instinctively rubbed her head against his large palm. She squinted her eyes in a blissful smile, savoring the affection. Muen held no malice toward Leon. To her, he was simply her father, without question. So, despite her clear dragon features—the tail and the silver streaks in her hair—Leon found he couldn't muster any hatred for her. He felt no deep-seated aversion, the kind he reserved for full-grown dragons. She was, undeniably, an incredibly cute little girl. Her innocence was disarming, melting away his old prejudices, at least where she was concerned.
In terms of pure looks and charm, dragon children did have certain advantages. They matured faster, their features and physiques developing more rapidly than those of human children.
This line of thought led Leon to a deeper wonder.
How did Rossweise, that vengeful, grumpy mother dragon who held such a monumental grudge against him, manage to produce a daughter so gentle and adorable? It seemed a small miracle, a soft spot of light in the dark landscape of hatred that lay between them.
While dragon children possessed a natural beauty, their personalities typically exhibited the fierce, domineering traits of their kind from a very young age. They were often wild and strong-willed almost from the cradle.
Leon had read numerous treatises by dragon scholars. They all asserted that a dragon's life was steeped in violence and blood, even in childhood. But Muen seemed a world apart from that description. She was kind, playful, and showed no signs of inherent anger or a fighting spirit.
Was it because she was half-human, half-dragon? Did the mingling of bloodlines soften her nature? Leon pondered this, his mind wandering to how his own humanity might have shaped her heart.
Before he could delve deeper, the door swung open.
No knock, of course. There was no need to guess who it was—it could only be that unpredictable, temperamental mother dragon.
Leon quickly pulled his hand back from Muen's head. He leaned against the headboard, trying to affect an air of nonchalance. The sharp click of high heels echoed on the floor, drawing nearer at a measured pace.
Rossweise entered the bedroom in her usual attire. Her silver hair, which was often styled to perfection, hung loose down her back like a flowing cape. It gave her a more relaxed appearance, less like a queen ready for war.
Her makeup was subtler today, but there was no denying that even with minimal effort, Rossweise was a stunning beauty. Her looks could command attention anywhere. The silver dragon's eyes held none of the hatred or ferocity from the previous night. Now, they displayed only a lazy grace, fitting for a queen in her private chambers.
"Good morning, Mother," Muen said. She hopped down from the bed and gave Rossweise a small, formal bow.
"Good morning, Muen. How long has Daddy been awake?" Rossweise asked.
"He just woke up. I followed Mother's instructions and bandaged his wound before he woke," Muen replied, her chest puffing with pride.
Rossweise nodded, a flicker of approval in her eyes. "Well done, Muen." Her voice was firm, yet held a note of kindness.
The little dragon girl's eyes shone brightly. "Thank you, Mother!" She beamed as if the simple praise were the greatest gift.
As the old saying goes, a loving mother and a strict father.
But in this strange family of Leon, Rossweise, and Muen, the roles seemed reversed. Leon found himself in the role of the gentle, affectionate parent—warm and approachable. Rossweise was the stern disciplinarian—demanding and sparing with praise. That a simple "well done" could make Muen so ecstatic revealed how rare such kindness was from her mother.
Leon observed this quietly, filing the observation away. Perhaps it was something he could use later, a key to understanding the complex bond between mother and daughter.
"Go play in the backyard first, Muen," Rossweise instructed.
"Umm..." Muen lowered her head. She twisted her short fingers together, muttering under her breath, "But Muen wants to stay with Daddy..."
"What was that?" Rossweise asked, her tone deceptively light but carrying a clear undertone of warning.
"Oh, nothing! Muen will go to the backyard now!" The little dragon girl scurried out of the bedroom, her tail whisking behind her as she fled.
Now only Leon and Rossweise remained in the room. The two stared at each other, their expressions neutral, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire.
After a good ten seconds, Leon was the first to break the silence. "Aren't you a little too strict with the child?" He kept his voice even, but the concern was evident.
"That is how dragons raise their young," Rossweise replied flatly.
"But she isn't a full dragon," Leon pointed out, thinking of her human half.
Rossweise's brow furrowed slightly. "So, you think her not being a full dragon is whose fault, exactly?" Her eyes narrowed, the blame laid bare.
Leon raised an eyebrow. "Oh, are you upset about that?" He sensed a vulnerability.
Feeling he had found a chink in her armor, he pressed on. "How was I supposed to know the spell would work back then? But hey, the daughter we got is pretty cute, don't you think?" He allowed a small, teasing smile, though he meant the words. Muen's sweetness was a genuine surprise.
Rossweise clenched her jaw, her silver teeth gritted. The lazy calm in her dragon eyes vanished, replaced by the cold anger he knew so well.
"She is a dragon, Leon. 'Cute' is an insult to our kind," she stated, her voice sharp, defending the pride of her race.
"Well, you can be pretty cute, too, at times," Leon shot back, half-jesting to needle her.
"I cannot reason with you humans at all," she sighed, a note of genuine frustration in her voice.
"If you can't reason with me, then why keep me alive? Throw me to the wolves in the mountains or kill me now. It's simple," Leon challenged, his tone bitter from the accumulated torment.
Rossweise snorted coldly. She turned away and sat on the edge of the bed, her back to Leon. "I told you before: I will not let you die. You must live so I can continue to torment you." Her words were a stark reminder of her endless campaign of revenge.
Leon didn't back down. "Then I'll do my best to hold back my disgust, and you can be the one disgusted with yourself." He threw her own words back at her, defiant.
"Do you think I'm afraid of you?" Rossweise asked, her tail giving a dangerous twitch.
Leon swallowed his next retort without thinking. Every time she said that, it was a prelude to something unpleasant—usually another round of humiliation.
But this time, Rossweise did not resort to physical degradation. Instead, she walked to the wardrobe and tossed a set of new men's clothes onto the bed beside him.
"Put these on, go to the backyard, and play with Muen," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Leon looked at the neatly folded clothes, feeling a sense of awkwardness. "If you want to spend time with your daughter, go yourself. Why send me?" he asked, sensing an ulterior motive.
This didn't feel random. He was starting to recognize Rossweise's patterns. Like the bandaged wound on his hand—she could have done it herself, but she'd instructed Muen, a one-year-old dragon girl, to do it. Now, it was the same thing. She clearly wanted her daughter to have company, but wouldn't admit it, sending Leon—who had been conscious for less than two days—in her stead.
"No wonder you dragons grow up so obsessive and extreme. Raised like this, it's not just dragons—anyone would turn out twisted," Leon commented, thinking aloud about how such a stern approach could warp a child's heart.
"What do you mean, 'my daughter'? Is she not your daughter as well?" Rossweise fired back.
"I—" Well, she had him there. Leon paused, momentarily speechless. The blood tie was undeniable, however it had come to be.
"I am the monarch of the Silver Dragon Clan. I cannot spend my days minding children like some common human housewife. A ruler has a ruler's duties. I expect you to understand that, Leon." She explained, her voice proud, yet he detected a faint undercurrent of something else—regret, perhaps?
"A king doesn't raise children? Have you ever seen a Dragon Slayer raise a dragon?" Leon countered.
"A dragon has shared your bed. What kind of Dragon Slayer does that make you?" she mocked, deftly turning his words against him.
"You are just a tool I use to vent my frustrations, Leon. Do you understand now? If you do, then go play with Muen. She enjoys your company." Her command was final, brooking no further discussion.
The conversation had clearly reached its end. There was no space left for Leon to argue. He got out of bed and changed into the clothes. Once dressed, he saw they weren't standard human menswear. In style, they leaned more toward dragon fashion—flowing robes with silver trim, both comfortable and elegant.
Leon looked at his reflection in a nearby mirror and felt a profound sense of dissonance, as if he were wearing a costume. Seeing his hesitation, Rossweise walked over. Without a word, she began to straighten and adjust the garments for him. He was taller than her, so when she reached up to fix his collar, he instinctively lowered his head. His lips accidentally brushed against her fingers.
The moment was strangely intimate, and it triggered a memory for Leon. He recalled his training days with his master. Every time the master was about to depart on a mission, his wife would help him tidy his clothes, just like this. They were a truly loving couple. No matter how fierce the master was on the battlefield, with his wife, he was always gentle and caring. A wave of strange warmth washed over Leon, mingled with a sharp pang of loss for the simple, normal life he'd been denied.
"Almost done," Rossweise said, her voice pulling him from his reverie.
She took a step back, looked him up and down, then gave a satisfied nod. "Alright, go on."
Leon said nothing. He walked to the door, his head bowed in thought. Rossweise watched his retreating back until he left, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.
After a moment of silence, Rossweise walked to the window. She took a slow, deep breath, then let it out. A few moments later, a small, pigeon-sized dragon alighted on the windowsill.
"A messenger dragon..." she murmured.
It was a breed used for carrying missives between dragon clans—small, fast, and perfect for secrecy.
Tied to this messenger dragon's leg was a tiny bamboo tube, fastened with a red ribbon. Rossweise untied it, opened the tube, and pulled out a small scroll.
After reading just the first two lines, Rossweise's brow furrowed slightly. "Why does my sister have to choose now of all times to visit..." she whispered, her voice laced with a subtle tension. The letter brought news of family, but in her world of revenge and rulership, it promised to stir up new storms.