Shut up, malevolent dragon! I don’t want to have any more children with you V2C34

Chapter 34: Dragon King Poseidon

Question: When can people think with the utmost calmness?

Answer: Sage time.

In fact, Rosvitha hardly had any sage time after finishing homework with Leon. There were even times when she fought vigorously through the night, unable to sleep, yet still managed to get up and continue working in the study.

But things are different now. Since Leon opened the first gate, he transformed into a formidable warrior, forcibly thrusting the Silver Dragon Queen into sage time.

So now, lying in bed, neither of the couple felt drowsy nor had the inclination to continue their intimacy.

Contemplating various issues was their usual way of passing time. Leon leaned against the headboard, hands behind his head, his gaze falling on “The Gates of Nine Hells,” which had been kicked to the end of the bed during their “scuffle” earlier.

He blinked and then crawled over to retrieve the book.

“I suddenly remembered, there’s something very strange in this book,” Leon said, flipping through the pages.

Rosvitha, on the side, absentmindedly tidied her tousled hair. Her nightdress’s strap hung off her shoulder, perilously close to slipping off.

“What strange thing?”

“It says here that to open the first gate, there needs to be a Dragon King-level individual assisting.”

Rosvitha nodded. “Yes, isn’t that why you asked for my help tonight?”

“But this is an ancient text my master risked bringing out of the empire through intermediaries.”

“Uh-huh… So?”

Leon sat up straight, looking at Rosvitha, and spread the book open in his hands. “So, why do humans measure strength in terms of Dragon Kings when it comes to creating martial arts?”

Rosvitha’s hand paused in its motion of tending to her hair, mirroring Leon’s puzzlement as she began to contemplate.

“Yeah, according to your human customs, you’d probably use letters like ‘S’ or ‘A’ to express power levels, right?”

Leon nodded. “Yeah. And the designation of ‘Dragon King level’ seems too specific.”

He hesitated, muttering softly to himself, “My master knew I had you, a Dragon King, by my side, so he entrusted me with this ancient text, believing I could successfully master it. But what about other practitioners? Where would they find this so-called Dragon King-level assistance?”

To compare the strength of a Dragon King with the frailty of humans was a difficult task. Throughout human history, those who attained Dragon King-level strength had either passed away or secluded themselves in the mountains, ignoring worldly affairs.

And individuals like General Leon, who could achieve or even surpass Dragon King-level prowess, were few and far between, appearing only once every few hundred or thousand years.

So… this martial art called “The Gates of Nine Hells,” in a sense, didn’t seem designed for humans at all.

What was the purpose behind the creator of The Gates of Nine Hells developing such a risky and rigorous martial art that was seemingly unsuitable for humans?

“You think…”

After a brief silence, Rosvitha suddenly spoke up, “What if this martial art wasn’t developed by humans at all? What if it… came from the hands of a dragon?”

At her words, Leon blinked in surprise.

Rosvitha’s speculation made sense. Just now, he also mentioned how the term “Dragon King level” was too specific.

But the concept of “specificity” was only relevant to humans; if practitioners were replaced by dragons, then “Dragon King level” would seem natural and reasonable.

Every race had its own standards for measuring strength.

As Rosvitha said, humans are accustomed to using letters like ‘S’ and ‘A’ for grading. While dragons sometimes use these letters too, at other times, they may use names like ‘Dragon King level,’ ‘Quasi-Dragon King level,’ ‘Super Dragon King level,’ etc., which instantly give a rough idea of how to grade power.

“So, does that mean my master gave me a dragon martial art to learn…”

Leon couldn’t help but laugh and cry.

“If I keep practicing, will I end up growing a tail? That would be something I definitely don’t want!”

Rosvitha chuckled and playfully kicked his butt. “What’s wrong with having a tail? Is it really that bad?”

Leon replied seriously, each word pronounced deliberately, “Yes.”

“Tch, you’ve never experienced the wonders of having a tail, so naturally you’d think it’s bad.”

Rosvitha snorted lightly, her silver tail spread out on the bed, proudly stating, “You’ll never understand how wonderful having a long tail is in your lifetime.”

“Thanks for your blessing, Miss Melkvi,” Leon replied dryly.

Rosvitha glanced at him, no longer bantering with him, and steered the conversation back to The Gates of Nine Hells. “To find out if this martial art was developed by humans or dragons, there’s actually a simple method.”

“What method?”

Rosvitha nodded toward the ancient text in Leon’s hand. “Just look at who the author is.”

Leon rolled his eyes speechlessly. “You’ve lived for over two hundred years, surely you know that the author of such books and the developer of the techniques are often not the same person?”

This habit was widespread among various races, primarily to protect the privacy and safety of developers.

Secondly, some developers are only good at combat and killing, not at documenting their theories in writing. They can only pass down their knowledge through the compilation and organization of others into books for inheritance.

Of course, some technique developers don’t care about these things. They research and publish their own books without middlemen making profits. It’s stable.

Rosvitha shrugged. “Of course, I know about this. What I mean is, even if the author of the ancient text and the developer of the techniques aren’t the same person, they’re at least from the same race, right?”

Leon smiled faintly, tossing the ancient text into Rosvitha’s lap. “I checked during the day. The author is someone I’ve never heard of.”

Rosvitha flipped open the first page of the ancient text, revealing the author’s name: Claudia Poseidon. The name itself wasn’t particularly remarkable, but the surname made Rosvitha’s spine tingle. She stared fixedly at the three words “Poseidon,” unable to look away.

Leon noticed her reaction, gently shaking her shoulder and calling her name, “Hey, Rosvitha? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh… yeah, I’m fine.”

Leon glanced at the author’s name and asked again, “Do you know this author?”

Rosvitha tidied her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Um… not really. I only have a little understanding of this author’s surname.”

“Surname? Poseidon? I noticed this surname during the day too. It should be quite rare. At least, I’ve never met anyone with the surname Poseidon.”

Rosvitha shook her head with a wry smile. “Of course, you wouldn’t have, dummy. Because… it’s a dragon surname.”

Upon hearing Rosvitha’s words, Leon was initially slightly surprised, then nodded thoughtfully. “So… this martial art was indeed created by dragons.”

“But why would dragon martial arts be preserved in the human empire?” Leon questioned.

“Perhaps they were seized as spoils of war after defeating a dragon. That’s quite common,” Leon suggested.

Rosvitha bit her lip. “No, that doesn’t seem right. It shouldn’t be spoils of war.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because Poseidon is the royal surname of the sea dragon clan. And the sea dragons… haven’t been seen for thirty years. So how could they have been defeated?” Rosvitha countered.

With that statement, the bedroom fell into silence. Both spouses lowered their heads, gazing at the old book, “The Gates of Nine Hells.”

Countless questions flooded Leon’s mind.

Why did his master have access to martial arts created by the sea dragon clan, who had disappeared for thirty years?

Was his master really risking danger by having an old friend smuggle it out of the empire, as he claimed?

If his master did indeed conceal the origin of “The Gates of Nine Hells,” what were his motives? And who was the one who handed this book to his master in the first place?