“Ow, ow, ow! That hurts! Be gentle!”

Inside the Cosmod Orphanage, the cries of the dragon-slaying hero echoed. Just half an hour ago, this revolutionary who declared the fall of the old Empire before a corrupt king, and who led the Lionheart Society to free the people from oppression, now sat in a wheelchair.

The destructive power of the Ninth Gate was astounding, and Leon had survived thanks to Rosvisser’s protective dragon scale, but that didn’t mean there was no cost.

His right leg, the one that had obliterated the Primordial Nightmare, was now encased in a cast.

“It’s been temporarily treated with healing magic, but you’ll need to rest for a while,” Rebecca said, squatting beside the wheelchair and tapping the cast on Leon’s leg. She added with a playful smirk, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. After so many years of fighting, this is the first time I’ve seen you this badly hurt. Any thoughts on this new experience, Captain?”

Leon shot her a sideways glance, exasperated.

“Don’t think that just because I’m in a wheelchair, I can’t handle you.”