Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 126

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 126. A Friend with Red Hair Is Not Adopted (3)
Years passed. My temperament had grown considerably more composed, so my parents worried whether I was entering a turbulent adolescence late, but with Grayson’s help, I recovered to a point where those around me could accept that my personality had simply changed somewhat.
Grayson’s advice was simple: if I didn’t know how to behave or what emotions to feel, I should unconditionally mimic those around me. In public settings, I should imitate my Mother, and in private settings, I should follow Grayson’s lead.
Thus I obtained an ordinary life. It didn’t particularly matter if it wasn’t truly ordinary, but Grayson cried and pleaded with me not to cause him grief, so I made the effort regardless. When Grayson cried, my chest would ache strangely, and I found myself granting whatever he desired.
Perhaps because of this, I grew reluctant to remain at home and took mercenary work whenever time allowed, heading to the battlefield. It was satisfying to fight without thought on the warfront. I even felt a sense of catharsis. I thought that dying like this would be a life well-lived. The women of Lorowi originally died on the battlefield anyway.
But this respite came to my Mother first. She died honorably in battle against Media. I envied her. Whether Father envied her as well, I cannot say, but not long after the funeral, he passed away.
“Miss Yupi.”
“Yes.”
“Grieve as much as you need to.”
“Yes.”
Fortunately, I could feel sadness on my own. I felt hatred toward Media as well. The rush of intense emotions was fresh and exhilarating. Though these were negative feelings, I was pleased that I could experience them as readily as anyone else. After my parents passed, I wept profusely.
Afterward, I devoted myself entirely to strengthening the Lorowi Army. I would take mercenary work, return victorious, purchase military supplies with the spoils, craft new weapons, and repeat the cycle of going to war and returning victorious.
I received considerable assistance from alchemy during this period, but since it typically required sacrificing something precious to me as payment, I was cautious at first. With my parents gone, the only things I truly cherished were the Lorowi Army and Grayson. If Grayson’s life force were drained away, that would be catastrophic.
So I asked Lorowi what price was being paid for the alchemy. Lorowi seemed reluctant to answer, but said that things I didn’t remember were slipping away, and told me not to worry and simply use the alchemy.
So I used alchemy without concern. Lorowi is our family’s ancestral deity, after all. She would never do anything to harm her descendants.
After several more years passed, an invitation arrived from Chiron Territory. The daughter of my Mother’s late friend was getting married, and the invitation suggested that I, who had been close to her, should attend.
I had no memory of being particularly close, but since it was from my Mother’s friend, I simply went and offered my congratulations. When my Mother’s friend saw me, she smiled and spoke at length about how I had proposed to Luruella in my childhood.
I don’t remember it, but apparently I had done so when I was young. I congratulated the beautiful woman named Luruella on her marriage and hurried back to Lorowi. Had I stayed any longer, I feared I would have killed the groom, the Chiron Duke.
I don’t know why. I simply wanted to kill him. Ah, spending too long on the battlefield causes murderous intent to well up at all hours—it’s quite troublesome.
After several more years, our Lorowi Private Army earned the honor of being the Imperial Kingdom’s strongest military force. The Duke’s Private Army and the Imperial Kingdom’s regular forces alike were no match for us. We were undoubtedly the strongest on the Central Continent, and I was confident we could even defeat the Astiages Empire Army from the Northern Continent. Though the distance made a direct confrontation impossible.
In any case, I had earned the title of strongest and proven our superiority over the Chiron Duke’s House Private Army, so I was satisfied. Though I couldn’t explain why I was satisfied.
Living absorbed in my work, one day my late Mother’s friend, Runia Lilith, came to find me in tears. Her newborn granddaughter’s breathing was shallow and labored, and every doctor she consulted only shook their head and told her to prepare herself.
Knowing that my Mother had been an alchemist, Runia believed I was her last hope and came all the way to Lorowi by airship.
“You have a way, don’t you? No, rather—Your Grace the Marquess. Please, I beg you. Save our poor granddaughter.”
The child had a high fever and couldn’t even cry properly. The strange, metallic sound of her breathing was such that her death would have surprised no one.
Black hair. Black eyes. A metallic sound to her breathing. I… I thought… this was… an opportunity.
“There may be… a way to save her.”
“Truly?”
Instead, forget this child and live on. I will raise her as my own.”
Start anew. Raise her from the beginning, make her love me, and then I will be rewarded. This thought consumed my mind. This time, my love would finally be reciprocated.
I couldn’t cure minor illnesses, but performing absurd feats like extending human lifespan was within my alchemical expertise.
By combining the Dragon Heart that the previous Lorowi had created by draining the seed of a Central Continent dragon, with the Sage’s Jewel powered by human life force, I could create what I desired.
This required so much divine power that Lorowi would have to remain at the intermediate divine rank for a time, forgoing her ascension to the higher divine rank. Yet Lorowi readily supplied her divine power, saying that my desires took priority.
After deliberating and researching with Lorowi, we created a life-sustaining device that extended the bearer’s lifespan by one year for every ten thousand human lives.
It was a heart-shaped red jewel. On the battlefield, people died constantly, so obtaining ten thousand lives was not difficult.
I carried the child through battlefields, earning one year of life, and when a succession war erupted in the Chiron Duke’s House, I earned another year. The child grew healthy and increasingly resembled that woman. Though I don’t know who that woman is.
Ah, this isn’t particularly important, but a woman who had attempted to steal the legitimate heir using a pregnancy stone I had created in my childhood and hidden in the storage shed was caught. I executed the woman, but the child in her womb survived, so since it was my bloodline and I had no reason to kill it, I simply decided to raise it.
Thus my childhood wish was roughly fulfilled. An eldest daughter resembling that woman. A second daughter resembling me. Keeping both of them satisfied me considerably.
I wanted to call the first child something like Lulu, so I named her Lurutia. For the second, no name came to mind readily.
So until she was about five years old, I called her things like “baby” or “that one” or “that thing,” but Grayson, unable to bear it any longer, gave her the name Kazelnu. Thus I became the Mother of Lurutia Lorowi and Kazelnu Lorowi.
“Mother, I’ve obtained my airship pilot’s license.”
“Mom! I used the divine power of explosions to trigger an avalanche!”
Others complained that raising children was exhausting, yet mine grew up well-adjusted and virtuous despite my negligent approach. Genetics, surely. Neither I nor that woman had fundamentally twisted natures. Though I never did learn who she was.
In any case, both children grew up without incident, and Lurutia in particular developed into such a capable young woman that before reaching adulthood, she was already sustaining her own life force through her own efforts. Occasionally I felt pangs of doubt about the necessity of slaughtering ten thousand people merely to extend one’s life by a single year, but whenever I assured her that my grief would be profound should she perish, she accepted this reasoning and marched onto the battlefield without hesitation.
Then came that fateful day. That bastard appeared in Lurutia’s life. Because of him, Lurutia, myself, and everything about our household crumbled to ruin.
Helbatro or whatever his wretched, wretched name was…!
“Damned cisgender heterosexual male!”
I couldn’t fathom what possessed her, but Lurutia followed that bastard around like a lovesick fool, insisting she would marry him. It was unthinkable. This time, I had raised Lurutia with my own hands from the beginning. I had demolished that decrepit cabin where we’d sheltered only during winter and constructed a proper estate in its place, gifting it entirely to her.
I had raised her. I had nurtured her. Therefore, it was only fitting that she love me.
I resolved to visit Lurutia’s room—now wallpapered with photographs of that wretched Helbatro—and discuss the matter calmly. I could not permit her marriage to him. When I stated this, Lurutia demanded to know my reasons.
I pondered the question at length, and finally, after all these years of raising her, I spoke what I truly desired.
“If marriage is what you seek, I wish to marry you.”
“You’re insane!”
After that, Lurutia left home and entered the Imperial Palace. She said she couldn’t bear the sight of me. She forbade me from attending her wedding. She said looking at my face made her want to vomit. Thus I was rejected by the same woman twice.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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