Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 143

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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 143. Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts Are a Royalty Hell for Non-Outdoor Children (3)
“Hmm, I think the length might be insufficient.”
“Could we perhaps connect the poles together? If we interlock poles of the same thickness and twist them, it seems like they’d lock in place.”
“Oh! Croa’s surprisingly flexible!”
I’d expected him to be rigid, praying to Media every day and wearing only those austere priest-style robes, but his thinking is surprisingly adaptable. He even listens to the latest music trends.
I was genuinely surprised when I discovered he enjoyed jazz. I’d assumed he’d pick classical orchestras without question. At least he didn’t drone on about it at the party—that would’ve been awkward. This is why they say eloquence is silver but silence is golden.
“Croa’s right, I think? If we connect three of them, they should reach the roof perfectly!”
“Excellent!”
Then let’s hurry! We connected the poles and threaded them through the holes in the fabric, completing the tent’s frame.
Now, we’d tie one end to a stake, drive it firmly into the ground, bend the remaining section, and connect it to the opposite stake!
“Hnnngh!”
“Grrrrgh!”
This won’t work. Bending military-grade poles is too difficult for early teenagers. I decided to deploy Looping, who’d become an adult in two years.
“Go, Looping!”
“Loomi-loomi!”
Was that a cry, or was he protesting that we should call him Loomi-loomi instead? Either way, Looping charged at the tent like a body-checking maneuver, successfully bending the poles and even creating time to drive the stakes.
“I’ll hold it in place! Hurry while I have it!”
“Got it!”
“Pisha, you should step back so you don’t hurt your hands.”
“Leave it to me. I’m experienced with hammering.”
Right, Croa was a hammering specialist, wasn’t he? I yielded my position to the right person and watched as Croa drove the stakes. He was simply hammering tent pegs into the grassland, yet something felt ominous about it.
“Now, let’s do the same on the other side.”
“Alright!”
We set up the poles on one side properly, then moved to the opposite end and repeated the process.
But the moment Looping uttered a dumb “Huh?” there came a sharp crack, and the broken pole and intact pole collaborated in a spectacular fashion, launching skyward with a twang!
It happened in an instant. The tent slipped from Looping’s grasp and danced in the sky. For a moment, I thought it was beautiful—not realizing it was the prelude to disaster.
The stakes, the tent, the broken pole, and the intact pole hung suspended in the sky for a brief moment, then plummeted down because this Mortal Realm has gravity of 9.807 m/s².
“Kyaaaah!”
“Waaaaah! Ahhhhh!”
“Aaaahhh!”
“I’m so sorry! I used too much force!”
You need to control your strength! You’re from Chiron Duchy with naturally superior physical abilities, yet you were applying force so enthusiastically and intensely! Even if you wanted to look impressive, how could you use enough force to snap the poles?!
“Hahahaha! Ahahaha! Ahahahahaha!”
“Choco, stop laughing!”
“Hahaha! Hahahaha! Puhahahaha!”
“I said stop laughing!”
Ugh, I’m about to cry. We were almost done. But still, if we’re doing the same work a second time, we should be faster than before, right?
“Contact the Military Ministry! Tell them to send another military tent!”
“Ahahaha! Hahahaha! Should I bring two more as emergency backups, sir? Hahahaha!”
“Ugh, stop laughing already!”
I sent Choco away and reorganized my priorities. Setting up the tent could wait until the supplies arrived, but in the meantime, why not prepare dinner?
“Time to prepare the evening meal! Let’s get our dinner ready!”
“Yes, Pisha!”
“Looking at the materials and tools available, I think we could manage a barbecue.”
“Wow, these people really don’t give up.”
Huh? Was this unusual? Well, what’s done is done—we should focus on what we can accomplish. In war, knowing when to retreat matters just as much as anything else. When I explained this, Looping opened his mouth with a dejected expression.
“But because of me, we even failed to set up the tent.”
“If a unit falls apart because of one advisor, then that unit deserves to fall apart.”
“We help each other and live together.”
“You were treating us well until things broke down. If it had just been us, we wouldn’t have had enough strength in the first place.”
“Kwuong, kwueong!”
Ah, he’s about to get emotional and rush at someone. I quickly stepped back, and Looping attempted to embrace his friends. Naturally, Croa kicked him in the shin, and Shirley drove her fist into his solar plexus.
“Let’s save that kind of thing for after we’re closer.”
“I don’t want to do it even if we do get closer.”
I agreed with Croa’s sentiment, nodding in acknowledgment. As I looked over the materials we could use for fuel, I spotted a pile of sweet potatoes stacked in one corner.
“Oh! How about we roast some sweet potatoes over a campfire first? We can save the barbecue for when Father arrives!”
“Roasted sweet potatoes by a bonfire! That’s the dream!”
“That sounds good. Barbecues are usually Father’s responsibility anyway.”
Right, it’s dangerous for children to handle fire anyway. Father would definitely take care of that. With that in mind, we headed to where the firewood was stacked and gathered enough for roasting sweet potatoes.
“Wait! Hold on!”
Now that I think about it, I remember seeing medieval war records mentioning that wet firewood won’t catch fire and produces tons of smoke!
“Stop! It’s Father’s trap!”
I took the firewood from Croa’s hands and pressed it firmly with my fingers, then sniffed it.
“This is wet firewood! You need to start a fire with dry wood!”
“Ooh!”
“Impressive, Pisha!”
Ha, who knew my old hobby of reading war records would come in handy like this?
I confirmed that the firewood stacked on the other side was completely dry, then stood in the middle of the grassland with a lighter. I chose the middle specifically to prevent the fire from spreading to other areas if something went wrong.
“From picture books, you stack it like this and then….”
Light it? How exactly does fire attach to firewood? Do I just hold the lighter against it?
“Ow!”
“Are you alright, Pisha?!”
“Ice! I think there was ice in the cooler over there!”
Just holding a lighter flame against firewood doesn’t make it burst into flames. So how exactly do you start a campfire?
“Pisha, about those sweet potatoes—do we just throw them in the fire like this?”
“Don’t we? Maybe?”
“Then wouldn’t it be better to put them in before the fire gets going? It seems dangerous to shove them into a hot fire later.”
Oh, that’s a good point, Shirley. Let’s put them in first and then light the fire.
“Should we add some flammable material to help the firewood burn better?”
“Flammable material?”
“Oil? Or something like that?”
Oh, if it’s cooking oil, I saw it in the food supplies section. Since it’s edible, it should be fine to use for fire, right? If it produced toxic fumes or anything, they probably wouldn’t have stored it with the food.
We reached a consensus and poured the oil generously over the firewood. When I lit it, the logs burst into brilliant flames.
“Ooh!”
“But isn’t this fire a bit too intense?”
“There’s a strange sound too? Crackling and popping.”
Yeah, something about this felt wrong. I was thinking we should probably evacuate when suddenly the campfire let out a sharp crack, and wood chips along with burning sweet potatoes went flying everywhere.
“Ahhhhhhh!”
“Aaaah! Kyaaaah!”
“Ouch! It’s hot!”
“Waaaaah!”
We’re going to die! We’re all going to burn to death at this rate! I was ordering an evacuation when Choco, who had just returned from the Military Ministry, moved with lightning speed. She hurled fire-suppressing sand into the air and sliced through it with her sword. Thanks to the sand that came raining down, the flames seemed to be under control.
“You shouldn’t play with fire without an adult present!”
“Whimper… I just thought roasted sweet potatoes would taste good.”
“You should have asked the Imperial Guard if it was okay to use this!”
“…Huh?”
“Ugh, I’m losing my mind.”
Choco lamented how everyone’s intelligence seemed to plummet whenever I got involved. Usually I just laugh at Choco when she makes that face, but she really was worried about me. That’s actually kind of touching.
“Well, we’ve certainly made more of a mess than expected.”
Just as I was about to give up entirely and sink into complete helplessness, I spotted Father arriving with stacks of documents. It seemed he’d brought all his work along just to watch us.
“Waaah, waaaah!”
Nothing was working out, and I ran to Father in despair, crying loudly. Humans are powerless before nature. Forget camping—I just want to go back to the Princess Palace, eat, and sleep. Why do I have to suffer like this! I’m a Princess!
As I whined and complained, Croa and Shirley caught my mood and started crying too. They’d all been holding back for my sake, but they were just as exhausted.
“You saw that, didn’t you.”
Father held me and patted me gently, then approached Looping, who was trembling slightly, and stroked his head affectionately.
“No one expects you to be a perfect duke. Everyone stumbles through life making mistakes like this.”
I feel like I’m being used as a teaching tool for the Chiron Duke’s House succession training. Is the great Princess really trying to show that even she causes disasters like this all the time?

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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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