Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 182

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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 182. Where Is Kirke? (3)
“Didn’t Yupi Grandmother kill my biological grandmother?!”
“Why would I kill that woman?”
“No, but the Adoptive Father’s death and all, the narrative flow just—!”
“You’re the one who killed him, not me.”
Why must you speak to me like that? Yes, I delivered the final blow, but it was Grandmother who reduced Helbatro to that state! As I protested loudly, Grandmother let out a scoff and laid out the irrefutable facts.
“You deposed the Former Emperor and sentenced him to execution by fire. You killed him.”
“Dammit!”
Who keeps spouting such inconvenient truths! I’m the Princess! The second-highest person in Kisomalos!
“Didn’t anyone teach you that speaking the truth gets your head cut off? That’s how it was under Former Empress Helga!”
“Then kill me.”
“Dammit!”
Threatening with one’s life doesn’t seem to work. Then I’ll have to strike at what matters instead.
“Keep it up and I’m taking Ru away!”
“You little brat!”
Grandmother reached her hand through the iron bars to grab and shake me, but I dodged with a swoosh and hid behind Croa. I’d essentially used Croa as a shield, but strangely, he seemed to enjoy it.
“Haha, Pisha, you shouldn’t threaten someone using another person’s loved ones.”
“But that old woman started it!”
“Enough, enough. Take Kazelnu and get out.”
Chamberlain waved her hand dismissively, looking exhausted. Then she continued.
“Given the level of alchemical items she’s produced, it won’t even scratch Lorowi’s name. Go make a hundred or two hundred failed experiments.”
“Mother! You’re ignoring me again!”
“Bring water to wash my ears!”
Chamberlain ordered the Jailer to bring water for washing her ears, as she always did. The Jailers obliged, quickly fetching a basin of water, and Chamberlain scrubbed her ears vigorously.
“Leave at once. I don’t wish to see any more.”
Chamberlain issued an expulsion order as if she meant to wash her eyes clean too. We took Aunt Kazelnu and her entourage and headed first to Father at the Villa. We needed the Emperor’s permission to enter the forbidden area.
“What perfect timing.”
But it seemed Father had come looking for me as well, for we met perfectly at the Princess Palace, the midpoint between our locations. Father suggested we slowly share our findings, and the Emperor held a tea time. His Majesty sat leisurely in a garden chair, legs crossed, and began making small talk while sizing up Aunt from head to toe.
“That prisoner’s uniform suits you well.”
“Do you want to die?!”
“I was complimenting you. Why react like that?”
Our father will never get married in his lifetime. Aunt was wearing a black and white striped outfit—you shouldn’t say it suits her like that.
“Aunt has warm undertones.”
“You’re exactly the same, Pisha!”
“I see.”
“What kind of ‘I see’ is that?!”
Huh? Wasn’t I right? Black and white should suit cool undertones better, right? Since Aunt was getting unnecessarily angry, Father and I whispered to each other that she was just irritable from not getting sunlight normally, and we insulted her together.
“Seeing that woman here—does that mean Chamberlain won’t cooperate?”
“Yes.”
“Then I shouldn’t hold my hopes up.”
As Father concluded his point and took a sip of tea, Aunt shrieked and lunged to strike him. Of course, the Jailers intervened.
“Ah, and there was an unexpected discovery as well.”
I told Father about how Kirke had been poking around to ensure Former Empress Helga died of natural causes. Father hummed thoughtfully, then brought up the matter of inherited curses again.
“At that time, Kisomalos held a relatively high divine rank even among the superior deities. A curse potent enough to harm his descendants would certainly be passed down through generations.”
“Kirke is Media’s aunt, you said? Then surely, it would have been difficult to refuse….”
As the opinion that Media herself had harmed her grandmother became nearly certain, Croa’s complexion turned ashen.
“I’m terribly sorry, about Pisha’s grandmother, we….”
“No, Croa is a victim here.”
Croa had been only three years old when Grandmother died, so there was no way he could have been involved. Besides, Father applied collective punishment according to his whims anyway, so there was no need to worry. Father wouldn’t hold Croa accountable.
“What does Genie Teacher say?”
“Ah, that charlatan.”
Father’s occasional remarks sound rather outdated. But I didn’t show it and listened carefully to what he said.
“Kirke is in a place we cannot reach, or so I’m told.”
“A place we cannot reach?”
This could be interpreted in several ways. For one, it could mean she’s in the Heavenly Realm, since mortals cannot go there. Or it could mean she’s in Astiages, given our current hostile relations. If neither, it could mean she’s in the 16 Federal States, which haven’t joined the Central Continental Alliance and have closed their borders.
“If I had to guess, the Heavenly Realm, Astiages, or the 16 Federal States?”
“That’s what I’m inclined to think as well.”
I don’t want to go to any of them. The Heavenly Realm is physically unreachable, we’re on the brink of war with Astiages, and the 16 Federal States just terrify me. Their governmental structure is horrifying. It’s a theocratic society. They have no laws or royalty, apparently. The priests just receive divine oracles and conduct trials and governance on a whim.
“And about the pig….”
Huh? Why the pig?
Father seemed about to say something, then glanced at Aunt and leaned over to whisper in my ear.
“For now, I made sure Kisomalos could see it.”
“What? Why there?”
“I thought animals might be able to communicate with each other.”
I doubt a pig and a sheep would be able to understand each other. Even dogs and cats have different body languages and often fail to communicate.
I shouldn’t rely on Kisomalos for anything.
“But what about those two?”
Once I’d wrapped up the main business, Father finally turned his attention to Larima and Edison. He probably already knew about the final contestants in the propeller production competition, but when I mentioned the issue of younger men vying for Aunt’s affection each in their own way, Father uttered the words he always says when interested.
“How amusing.”
It seemed Father had decided to follow these two as well.
After that, we chatted until we finished our tea, then all moved together to the Workshop in the Empress Palace. Father insisted on personally overseeing it, saying it was too risky to leave them unsupervised.
“Tada! The key to Lorowi’s Workshop that appears whenever needed!”
As I chanted the incantation into the air, a large key materialized in my hand. In truth, it would appear just from wishing for it, but I shouted it out anyway for effect.
“Wow! You’re like a real sorcerer, Pisha!”
“Hmph.”
To compare me to a profession that only exists in legends was excessive praise. But since I wasn’t displeased, I shrugged and passed through the secret passage to open the Workshop door. Lorowi was already present in the Workshop, wearing an utterly exasperated expression.
“Please reconsider just once more. Can’t the spare legitimate heir simply make it? I only need to use it once.”
“I’m exercising my veto.”
As Father spoke firmly, Lorowi pulled out an alchemy book and staff, muttering complaints under his breath.
“Sigh… If it were Kazelnu, she’d make an even bigger mess….”
No, why are you discouraging my Aunt like that? The person in question actually seems thrilled at the prospect of using alchemy again after so long.
“First, the materials—anything made of iron will do… Actually, a coat hanger would be ideal. And a body part of the person we’re searching for… In this case, it’s an object imbued with divine power. Bring me some pig bristles, nice and stiff.”
After listing several other materials, Lorowi held out both hands toward us with a thoughtful hum.
“To be safe, bring enough for about a hundred attempts.”
Wasn’t that underestimating my Aunt? Alchemy seemed pretty straightforward to me. Surely she wouldn’t fail a hundred times. But since we were dealing with an alchemy professional, we decided to follow Lorowi’s lead. We thoroughly searched the Imperial Palace and brought back a hundred coat hangers, pig bristles, and other materials. My Aunt’s eyes lit up as she began tossing ingredients into the furnace.
“Bend the coat hanger and put it in, some pig bristles… Wait, how much is ‘some’? Would a pinch do?”
The first attempt failed. Around the tenth failure, smoke began rising from the furnace, and by the twentieth attempt, acrid black smoke was pouring out, forcing us to evacuate outside the workshop.
“Don’t you think we should at least get gas masks?”
“My Aunt seems fine with it though?”
Why was that? Had she spent so long on battlefields that this level of pollution was nothing? Or was it related to how, despite her questionable cooking, she always ate her own dishes without hesitation?
In any case, the workshop continued to emit loud bangs and pops with each failure, and the materials we’d brought, which I’d thought would be more than enough, were steadily running out.
On the ninety-seventh consecutive failure, my Aunt finally let out a triumphant cry. Ash was caked thickly on the workshop door.
“Pisha! I did it! I finally did it! It’s complete! Find the person well, Elrod!”
“Don’t you ever come back!”
So that deity could get angry. This was the first time I’d seen Lorowi raise her voice in frustration.
In any case, Lorowi withdrew her light and returned to the Heavenly Realm, leaving behind an ash-covered empty room, an ash-covered Aunt, and the artifact called “Find the person well, Elrod.”
“Hmm.”
Lorowi’s naming sense was still terrible.

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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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