Question: When can people think with the utmost calmness?
Answer: Sage time.
In truth, Rossweise hardly experienced any sage time after completing 'assignments' with Leon. There were even times when they battled vigorously through the night, leaving her unable to sleep, yet she still managed to get up and continue working in the study.
But now things were different. Since Leon had opened the first gate, he had 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 earlier "scuffle."
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.
Rossweise, beside him, absentmindedly tidied her tousled hair. The strap of her nightdress hung off her shoulder, perilously close to slipping off.
"What strange thing?"
"It says here that to open the first gate, one needs assistance from someone at the Dragon King level."
Rossweise 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 Rossweise, and spread the book open in his hands. "So, why would a human-created martial art use 'Dragon King level' as its measurement of strength?"
Rossweise's hand paused in its motion, her expression 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. "Exactly. And the designation '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?"
Comparing the strength of a Dragon King to human fragility was no simple matter. Throughout human history, those who attained Dragon King-level strength had either passed away or secluded themselves from worldly affairs.
And individuals like General Leon, who could achieve or even surpass Dragon King-level prowess, were exceptionally rare, appearing only once every few centuries.
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 its creator developing such a risky and rigorous martial art that was seemingly unsuitable for humans?
"You think…"
After a brief silence, Rossweise suddenly spoke, "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.
Rossweise's speculation made sense. Just now, he had also noted how the term "Dragon King level" was too specific.
But the concept of "specificity" was only relevant to humans; if the practitioners were dragons, then "Dragon King level" would seem natural and reasonable.
Every race had its own standards for measuring strength.
As Rossweise said, humans were accustomed to using letters like 'S' and 'A' for grading. While dragons sometimes used these letters too, they also employed terms like 'Dragon King level' or 'Super Dragon King level,' which instantly conveyed a rough idea of power grading.
"So, does that mean my master gave me a dragon martial art to learn…"
Leon didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"If I keep practicing, will I end up growing a tail? That's definitely not something I want!"
Rossweise chuckled and playfully swatted his backside with her tail. "What's wrong with having a tail? Is it really that bad?"
Leon replied seriously, each word deliberate, "Yes."
"Tch, you've never experienced the wonders of having a tail, so of course you'd think it's bad."
Rossweise snorted lightly, her silver tail spreading across the bed as she stated proudly, "You'll never understand in your lifetime how wonderful it is to have a long tail."
"Thanks for your blessing, Miss Melkvey," Leon replied dryly.
Rossweise glanced at him, no longer bantering, 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?"
Rossweise nodded toward the ancient text in Leon's hand. "Just look at who the author is."
Leon rolled his eyes. "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 were only skilled in combat, not in documenting their theories. They could only pass down their knowledge through compilations organized by others into books.
Of course, some technique developers didn't care about such things. They researched and published their own works without intermediaries—a stable approach.
Rossweise shrugged. "Of course, I know that. What I mean is, even if the author and the developer aren't the same person, they're at least from the same race, right?"
Leon smiled faintly and tossed the ancient text into Rossweise's lap. "I checked during the day. The author is someone I've never heard of."
Rossweise 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 Rossweise's spine tingle. She stared fixedly at the word "Poseidon," unable to look away.
Leon noticed her reaction and gently shook her shoulder. "Hey, Rossweise? Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh… yeah, I'm fine."
Leon glanced at the author's name and asked again, "Do you know this author?"
Rossweise tidied the 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."
Rossweise shook her head with a wry smile. "Of course, you wouldn't have, dummy. Because… it's a dragon surname."
Upon hearing this, 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.
Rossweise 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?" Rossweise 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 had concealed the true origin of The Gates of Nine Hells, what were his motives? And who was the one who had handed this book to his master in the first place?
The name "Poseidon" hung in the air between them, a silent mystery connecting Leon's present to a lost clan of the sea.