Shut Up, Malevolent Dragon! I Don’t Want to Have Any More Children With You Vol. 6 Ch. 12

Leon and the Silver Dragon Queen’s agreent wasn’t just about experiencing their first date.

To be precise, the date was only one part of a much larger arrangent.

It all began long ago, when Her Majesty, the Queen, beca obsessed with romance novels.

As everyone in the dragon clans knew, their queen was a bona fide workaholic.

Before marrying Leon, her days were entirely consud by work—either at her job or traveling to it.

It wasn’t until after their wedding that Her Majesty finally found so leisure ti and hobbies.

Of course, this didn’t change her workaholic nature. She continued managing internal clan affairs daily.

However, as the marriage progressed, the Queen noticeably “softened” and beca less aloof toward Leon. Her smiles grew more frequent, and her deanor gentler.

This newfound balance led her to explore other ways to relax.

Besides sneaking off to rendezvous with the Prince Consort, she secretly indulged in reading sweet romance novels.

She never dared reveal this little hobby to anyone but Leon.

When he once asked her why, she replied, “To maintain the dignity of a queen.”

General Leon: Speechless.

And as everyone knows, no romance novel is complete without one essential the—

“When love runs deep, it naturally leads to… intimacy.”

As for how it’s done, how long it lasts, how many tis it happens, or how detailed it gets—that depends entirely on the author’s skill.

Beyond the tear-jerking love stories, Rosvisser paid particular attention to the "emotional intensity" scenes.

Before Leon, Rosvisser knew nothing about the art of love.

After marrying him, she didn’t truly soften; rather, she felt it was her duty as a wife to embrace her body’s needs and their marriage’s long-term goals.

On top of that, her natural curiosity about the aning of pleasure drove her to explore such things.

And as the saying goes, “Books hold golden treasures.” If one wants to excel at intimacy, creativity, and making it unforgettable, one might as well gather ideas from romance novels.

Thus, Her Majesty began jotting down all the quirky scenarios, thods, and plots she encountered in her readings in a small notebook.

She even made an agreent with Leon that they would try every thod listed.

This ambitious plan, expected to take at least ten years to complete, was dubbed:

The Ascension Project—an endeavor involving various "assignnts" over a decade. General Leon, truly a legendary man.

One evening, not long after one of their children’s trips, the couple sat together in bed.

While casually discussing daily life and intimacy, sothing suddenly ca to Rosvisser’s mind.

She got up abruptly, opened the bedside drawer, and pulled out a notebook.

The first page listed completed entries:

Scenario: Waking Sleeping Beauty — Completed ✔

Ice Cube Kisses — Completed ✔

Blindfold Dance — Completed ✔

(Note: Laughing by the second attempt. Highly suspicious that the sly man peeked under the blindfold.)

Scenario: The Slave Girl and the lkvey Lord — Completed ✔

Scenario: The Saintess and the Priest — Not Completed.

“Leon, I want to finish this one,” Rosvisser declared, pointing to the unfinished entry for The Saintess and the Priest, her eyes sparkling with excitent.

Leon glanced at the notebook, reading its brief summary:

An unscrupulous priest abuses his power and authority to humiliate a subordinate saintess.

If enacted by the couple, it would involve the classic "man on top, woman beneath" dynamic.

Leon raised an eyebrow. “Why this one? You’re usually not into these kinds of scenarios.”

In most cases, Rosvisser preferred being the dominant player.

With a mischievous grin, Rosvisser replied, “Why not? Think about it—a pious saintess forced to unite with a corrupt priest. Such twisted, dark character dynamics! Don’t you find it intriguing?”

“...Has your mind beco slightly twisted from all these scenarios lately?”

Whack—

Rosvisser smacked Leon with a pillow, her tone turning sharp. “Hmph! Forget it if you don’t want to play. Here I was, ready to praise you, and instead, you call twisted.”

Leon imdiately raised the white flag, sitting up straight and grinning. “Alright, alright. This one it is. I never said no, did I?”

Rosvisser shot him a playful glare, feigning indignation. But as she turned away, a sly, triumphant smile crept across her face.

“We haven’t prepared any props,” Leon pointed out.

“Props? We’re so experienced now; who needs them? Just use your words to humiliate , Priest~”

Leon: ?

“You’re already in character?”

Leon had once thought that dragon queens grew lazier after marriage. But now, it seed their penchant for theatrics only grew stronger.

Since his wife was so into it, Leon adjusted his mindset and prepared for his role as the priest.

Clearing his throat, he adopted a deep, commanding tone. “Sister lkvey, do you know why you’ve been summoned here tonight?”

Kneeling before Leon, Rosvisser clasped her hands neatly on her lap, lowered her head, and answered softly, “No, Father.”

“Oh? You don’t know?”

Leon reached out, gently lifting Rosvisser’s chin, forcing her to et his gaze. “You look far more beautiful tonight than usual.”

“Th-thank you for your praise, Father… It’s getting late. I should… probably leave now.”

“Leave? And where do you think you’re going?”

Leon’s tone grew harsher, his movents more forceful.

He pushed Rosvisser onto the bed. Her cascading silver hair spilled across the sheets, gleaming under the lamplight.

The strap of her nightgown slid down her shoulder, revealing part of her chest. Combined with her delicate, expressive face, she perfectly embodied the image of a saintess overwheld by a domineering priest.

“Father, why are you doing this?”

“Enough chatter. I’ve been watching you for a long ti, Sister lkvey.”

Leon delivered his lines with conviction, fully imrsed in the role.

For the couple, any lingering embarrassnt had long since beco part of the fun, enhancing their enjoynt of the performance.

“If you want to survive in this church, you’ll obey tonight. Understood, Sister?”

“Th-this isn’t right… Please, Father, let go…”

“It’s too late, Sister lkvey. Tonight, you’ll learn that being a saintess isn’t as pure as it seems.”

The familiar pattern of threats, power dynamics, and shifting roles continued—until the unexpected happened.

“Father! I… I have evidence of your sins! If you dare touch , I’ll expose it to everyone!”

Leon froze. That wasn’t part of the script.

Still, improvisation was the spice of life, so he decided to play along. “Oh? Evidence? What evidence?”

“Hmph! Evidence of all your wicked deeds!”

With that, Rosvisser pulled a few photos from beneath the pillow and tossed them onto the bed.

Leon looked down at the photos Rosvisser had thrown at him. To his astonishnt, they were all pictures from their previous "scenario plays," taken after their intimate reenactnts.

There was one with Rosvisser in a princess gown and Leon dressed as a knight.

Another depicted the Queen alongside the "General of a Defeated Nation."

And yet another showed her holding a whip, playing the role of a captor disciplining her prisoner.

All the photos were staged like portraits, with carefully arranged poses and lighting, creating an artistic atmosphere.

“Using these sweet, sentintal photos as props for this scenario feels a bit… unconventional,” Leon muttered to himself.

Still, it wasn’t a serious performance, so he didn’t dwell on it.

“You think these photos are enough to threaten ?”

Leon let out a cold chuckle. “Too naive. These photos prove nothing. You can’t even take them out of this room.”

“Oh?” Rosvisser’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Do you think I only prepared these photos?”

Leon froze.

“What… what do you an?”

His reaction wasn’t just from surprise at the unexpected twist in their play. Her words stirred a distant mory.

Using photos as “leverage” and preparing multiple copies—

It sounded eerily similar to an old contingency plan he had never anticipated being used.

“What’s wrong, Father? Are you scared of now?”

Rosvisser’s expression shifted from that of a timid saintess to a mischievous scher, her eyes sparkling with cunning. “If you don’t kneel and kiss my foot right now, I might just let you sober up a little before continuing.”

“Kneel and kiss your foot? Ha! Keep dreaming!”

Leon’s voice brimd with defiance. Despite knowing Rosvisser’s penchant for dominance, he couldn’t resist playing along with her provocations.

“Well then, Father, if you’re so bold, I suppose I’ll just have to release these photos,” she teased. “When that happens, everyone will know who you really are. You’ll beco a laughingstock, a pariah. Even dreaming of touching my feet would be impossible!”

Leon gritted his teeth. “Fine. You’ve asked for it. If this is the grand finale, Sister lkvey, don’t bla for what happens next!”

Rosvisser’s grin widened, triumphant. “Oh? And what do you intend to do?”

“Do you think only you have incriminating evidence? I have so as well! Before you beca a saintess, weren’t you famously a bunny girl?”

The accusation was absurd, but Rosvisser’s reaction was even more dramatic—she laughed, her expression growing even more alluring.

“Bunny girl? That’s ancient history. You can’t possibly have proof.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Leon leaned in closer, falling deeper into her trap.

“And if you do?” she challenged.

“If I do, then tonight, you’re mine to command,” Leon declared confidently.

Rosvisser tilted her head, her smile sharp. “And if you don’t?”

Leon hesitated but replied, “If I don’t… then I’ll submit to you completely.”

“Deal, Father~” Rosvisser purred.

Leon smirked, confident in his claim. He got up and rushed out of the bedroom.

Ten minutes later, he returned, a hint of unease creeping into his deanor.

Rosvisser lay on the bed, her long legs draped elegantly over the edge. Her silver eyes sparkled as she softly asked, “So, where’s your evidence, Father?”

Leon’s lips tightened. “I’ll find it. Just wait!”

He turned and left again.

Another ten minutes passed. When he returned, he was sweating and visibly shaken.

“Father,” Rosvisser teased, her voice sweet but taunting. “If you can’t find your so-called evidence soon, you’ll have to honor our little agreent~”

“Just one more chance!” Leon pleaded. “Let try one last ti!”

Rosvisser raised an eyebrow but gestured for him to go.

This ti, Leon was gone for twenty minutes. When he returned, his face was ashen, his pupils unfocused.

“No… impossible… The photos… they’re all gone. I hid them so carefully years ago. How could—”

“Are you looking for these, Father?”

Leon’s head snapped up at her voice.

In her hands, Rosvisser held three pristine photos of her past self as a bunny girl. Her expression was one of pure victory.

Thunderstruck, Leon froze.

It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck him, more devastating than watching his divine powers stripped away.

“How… how did you—”

“Don’t worry about how I got them,” Rosvisser replied, her voice dripping with mockery. “You told you burned these, didn’t you? So… what are these?”

“Uh… well… you see, my Queen, I’m a sentintal man. I kept them to reminisce about our fond mories together.”

“Oh, my dear husband, how thoughtful of you~” Rosvisser cooed, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Before Leon could reply, a small fla ignited in Rosvisser’s hand, consuming the photos in an instant.

At that mont, sothing inside Leon shattered.

Was it his hope?

His pride?

No, it was the last shred of his authority and dignity in their relationship.

With a dramatic leap, Leon climbed back onto the bed, kneeling before Rosvisser with tears brimming in his eyes. “My Queen, will you at least hear my explanation?”

“Of course, my dear husband.”

“Well, then—”

“Not right now,” she interrupted, cutting him off with a wicked grin.

Slowly, Rosvisser extended one of her long legs, resting her elegant foot before him. “Now, Father, will this be your reward, or shall I crush you underfoot? The choice is yours~”

“Is this… a reward?” Leon asked hesitantly.

“Let’s call it that,” she replied, laughing softly. “Every condemned man deserves a last al before the execution.”

Her silver eyes glead mischievously. “Now, let’s fulfill our little agreent~~~”

In the end, the scher lost.

The would-be "god" of their playful scenarios could only fall in defeat.

And sowhere, deep within the void, shadowy figures stirred.

“Has the ti co for us to act? Shall we show the primitive beings of Samael a glimpse of the void’s true power?”

Seated on a throne lined with cruel spikes, a massive, ominous figure held a blood-red greatsword adorned with a single, malevolent eye.

“No,” the shadowy figure intoned, his voice ancient and commanding.

“But, my lord, Tiamat’s power has completely dissipated. Samael has lost its last god. Surely, this is the perfect mont to—”

“Who said Tiamat was the last god of Samael?”

“What? My lord, I don’t understand…”

The figure’s eyes opened, revealing the sa terrifying brilliance as the sword’s eye. His voice grew sharper, each word laced with power.

“Her primal divine essence may have long faded, but—

The first has awakened. She has broken Samael’s web of ti.”

“This act has triggered the return of Kronos, one of Samael’s primordial gods.”

The shadow leaned forward, his presence suffocating. “Though weakened and nearing its end, Kronos will unleash its fury upon the fool who dared ddle with the dominion of ti.”

“Will this end with the collapse of the Web of Ti, or will the wrath of the gods consu everything?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”