41 Casmod (Two-in-One)
The maids had a hunch today that Their Majesty was in a fantastic mood.
No.
Not just fantastic.
Absolutely, positively, over-the-top fantastic.
And why did the maids feel this way?
Because their notoriously workaholic boss was unbelievably letting them leave early—two days in a row!
Not only that, but Their Majesty had been grinning from ear to ear all day, not grimacing like usual.
After finishing some tricky work, she even hummed a catchy tune happily.
Based on all this, the maids came up with two bold theories:
1. Their Majesty might be pregnant with triplets;
2. Their Majesty might be getting ready to be pregnant with triplets.
“Why are you all still standing around? I already let you off early; go rest!”
On the throne of the Holy Temple, Roswiser was busy tackling work, not even bothering to lift her head.
The maids immediately bowed and scurried off, leaving Their Majesty’s strange behavior to their imaginations.
Once they left, Roswiser unconsciously started humming her cheerful little tune again.
In her fifty years of reigning, she’d rarely felt this happy.
For fifty years, she had lived the same day over and over:
Wake up, wash up, breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner, overtime, rest.
Round and round, year after year.
The long lifespan of the Dragon Race felt like an endless ocean, and Roswiser was but a lonely leaf drifting on it, blown about by the winds and waves to who knows where.
But what lay ahead?
Still, the endless ocean.
Her work was no different; after she finished one mountain of work logs the night before, another mountain would rise up by the next morning.
Roswiser never complained.
Because she knew complaining wouldn’t help.
Besides, she was the queen of the Silver Dragons; to her kin, she was a leader, a faith, a spiritual anchor. She couldn’t show fear or retreat in front of anything.
As for herself, did she like being a queen? Did she like facing an endless pile of work? Did she like spending half her life in this gilded prison called a throne?
She didn’t know.
She thought she would start to hate this life over time.
But in the end, devoid of joy or sorrow, Roswiser neither hated nor liked it.
Her heart was like a tranquil forest, with only a few birds fluttering out occasionally, and besides that, there were no ripples.
What she never expected was that the one who would fill her monotonous life with joy would be a human.
That silly human who was utterly useless except for dragon-slaying and kid-wrangling; a mere drunken declaration of “I like you” could make her heart flutter. Roswiser couldn’t help but wonder if she was actually slightly smitten.
But he was a human, and a pesky one at that, always opposing her. Why on earth would she be interested in him?
The Silver Dragon Queen had solved countless problems for her tribe, but when it came to her own matters, she was at a total loss.
And she couldn’t seek help from anyone.
The only one who could uncover the secrets of her heart was herself.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the Holy Temple, interrupting Roswiser’s musings.
She looked up to see who it was—speak of the devil.
Leon was striding in, two buckets of paint in hand, his tool belt jangling with brushes of various sizes, plus two dark blue aprons to keep himself clean.
Roswiser surveyed his getup from head to toe and quipped, “What’s this? A dragon slayer has left his job and transformed into a proud… painter?”
Leon grinned but didn’t respond to her teasing. He walked closer.
“I previously stated that no one is allowed to bring paint or any messy stuff into the Holy Temple, or they’ll lose half a month’s salary.”
She had a mild case of obsessive cleanliness, plus paint had a strong smell and would be a nightmare to clean up if spilled.
But even as she said this, she didn’t actually stop Leon from approaching.
Well, because there’s no salary to dock from the dog man.
She set down her pen, supported her chin with one hand, and gazed at Leon from her throne.
Leon lifted his head to meet her gaze. “When are you getting off work?”
“It depends on my mood. What’s up?”
“Help me out and change the color of the Black Gold Battle Armor.”
Roswiser perked up at that. “Alright, let’s go!”
She closed her work log, stood from the throne, and with a swift lift of her skirts, hurried down the steps.
Leon blinked. “Wow, you’re that decisive? Isn’t it still technically work time?”
“I said it depends on my mood.”
Leon raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying you’re in a good mood now?”
“Stop yakking and let’s go!”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”
The couple walked side by side, leaving the Silver Dragon Temple.
When they arrived at Roswiser’s private warehouse on the back mountain, they walked inside one after the other.
When he was in the Dragon Slayer Army, the dragons he fought never knew his name or face, just referred to him as “the guy in the black armor.”
Gradually, this nickname spread throughout the Dragon Race.
After all, a foreigner wielding thunder and slicing dragons left quite an impression.
Just like what Roswiser’s grandmother had said two days ago.
Before he donned the Black Gold Battle Armor again on the battlefield, he had tossed a bit of silver paint on it to avoid suspicion from the Silver Dragon tribe, and under the cover of night, no one had recognized him.
But such a shabby disguise couldn’t hold up forever.
Leon sensed he’d be here with Roswiser for a while, at least until the Empire’s conspiracy was uncovered, so he decided to prepare in advance. No more last-minute rushes like with Constantine.
After explaining why he needed to change the color of the Black Gold Battle Armor, the two pulled out its various components, tied on their protective aprons, and then sat on the ground to start what they called “armor spa.”
“By the way, why didn’t you ask the daughters for help? Isn’t Noia back?”
Roswiser cradled the helmet of the Black Gold Battle Armor and meticulously painted it.
Leon hesitated a bit, “They… are with the old lady. It’s their first time meeting, so I wouldn’t want to interrupt them.”
This was a decent excuse.
But Noia had only returned yesterday; their three daughters had also been sleeping with their great-grandmother.
It was almost evening now, and it had been an entire day. How couldn’t they take a break from sticking together?
Leon just needed to say, “Who wants to help Dad paint?” and Noia and Moon would probably fight over who got to help.
What? Little Light?
Little Light could barely walk straight and should just stay in her room.
Besides, the daughters didn’t even know the origins of this armor; helping out wouldn’t tire them out, and it’d be a great way to strengthen their father-daughter bonds.
Thinking this, Roswiser felt a mischievous idea bubbling up inside her. “Oh, so you didn’t want to disturb the kids and the old lady?”
Leon snuck a glance at the Mother Dragon, then replied gloomily, “Yeah.”
“Ah.” Roswiser pretended to be disappointed.
“What’s the sigh for?” Leon asked.
“I thought you wanted to do this alone with me.” She said, lightly tracing the helmet with her pink nails, pouting like a sulky little wife.
Leon saw her childish antics and said, “…Mother Dragon, that’s enough.”
Since Roswiser’s little trick was exposed, she didn’t rush. Instead, she composed herself and looked up at him. “So, why is it ‘enough’ now? Were you so brave when you drunkenly declared you liked me two days ago?”
“That was!—”
“What was it?”
“That was… um, the result of too much to drink. Does what I say when I’m drunk even count?”
Roswiser huffed, “Just one drink and you’re knocked out? Are you trying to fool me? You were perfectly sober then.”
Leon rolled his eyes at her, not wanting to drag this topic any further.
In truth, he had been quite sober that night.
He might not handle alcohol well, but he wasn’t so weak as to lose control after a sip.
He was very aware of what he said and how he felt when he said it; bringing it up now would only embarrass him.
“What? Cat got your tongue? Regretting it, huh?” The Queen pressed on.
Regret?
Not a chance.
He only felt regret when he did things against his better judgment.
So that declaration of “I like you”… could hardly be considered a lie—it was likely a true expression of Leon’s feelings.
“Tch, who do you think I am? Saying it means saying it; who cares about regret?”
Leon was stubborn, but he had to admit that he stood firm on his words.
Roswiser admired that about him.
“Well, say it one more time.” Roswiser coaxed.
“Are you never going to drop this? I say it, and you don’t respond; what’s the point?”
Oh boy.
She was getting desperate.
Roswiser pouted, grumbling softly, “Fine, don’t say it. Who even cares?”
She resumed painting the helmet.
As she painted, Roswiser noticed that all the paint Leon brought was the same color—silver.
What was he going for?
Black Gold Battle Armor – Fancy Skin – Silver Dragon Edition?
“Why is it all silver?” Roswiser casually asked.
“I like silver.” Leon blurted out without thinking.
Roswiser froze for a moment, then coughed twice, trying to draw Leon’s attention.
Leon dutifully looked up at her.
There stood Roswiser, pretending nothing was wrong, fiddling with her silver hair.
Leon rolled his eyes in silence, choosing to keep working.
“Cough, cough—”
Another glance.
Roswiser was pinching the tip of her silver tail, still pretending to be nonchalant.
Leon sighed but remained silent.
“Cough, cough—”
“Alright, alright, the silver you like. Happy now?”
The subtle hint was practically smacking him in the face. If Leon didn’t step up soon, Roswiser might just force him to say it.
Rather than that, it was better for him to take the initiative.
With that, Roswiser was satisfied, and happily continued painting.
The couple worked for quite a while before finally finishing the skin change for the Black Gold Battle Armor.
Looking at the refreshed armor, Roswiser nodded in approval. “Not bad, looks great.”
“Mm.”
What a dull “mm.”
Roswiser glanced at him; Leon’s expression had turned completely serious, unlike just moments ago in the temple.
She had a pretty good idea of why he was like this—
Their earlier conversation:
“Are you done? I say it, and you don’t respond; what’s the point?”
The stubborn boy finally had the courage to step forward, but she had only hugged and kissed him that night, not giving him any proper feedback.
Although she hadn’t spoken about it in the last two days, she suspected it had affected him.
Roswiser bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before quietly inching closer to him, gently tugging at his sleeve.
“What’s wrong?” Leon asked in a low voice, but his gaze stayed fixed on the Black Gold Battle Armor.
“Casmod.”
The Queen rose on her tiptoes, leaning close to his ear, her breath sweet as flowers.
“I like you.”
xx
Black Gold Battle Armor: So am I just a stepping stone on your path of romance?
