Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 233

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

Chapter 233. What? So Suddenly? (3)
“What is a religious companion? How does one become one?”
It sounded ingenious, but I needed clarification on the specifics. When I asked, Kirpan explained the procedure for accepting a companion within the Dharma Religion.
“Two people who have entered the Dharma Religion promise to take each other as teachers and cultivate their spirits together. Since it’s completely separate from romantic love, it’s possible between people of the same gender, and even between the elderly and children.”
“Huh? So I need to have a religion?”
“And if Grant sees you two and deems you a perfect match, he sometimes inscribes your names on your bodies as a complimentary service.”
“Name… what?”
I think I’ve seen something like that in romantic novels before. Though in those stories, the names are inscribed on their bodies from birth.
Regardless, I already had a rather impressive ancestor deity, and taking on a religion led by someone else’s god felt like something worth deliberating over. I’d need permission from Kisomalos first, and I myself harbored some resistance to adopting a religion.
No matter how much the Dharma Religion claims to avoid idol worship and pursues only human equality and self-cultivation, the idea of hedging my bets with two deities left me deeply uneasy. It certainly wasn’t because I’m of Lorowi blood and found the heretical notion that all are equal, or the peculiar logic that commoners possess rights, or the absurd claim that the nation’s owner is its people, to be objectionable.
“….”
But wait, isn’t that strange? Isn’t the nation’s owner clearly the Emperor? How can he shift that responsibility to the people? The commoners pay their taxes without fail, get conscripted when war breaks out, and perform labor for the state—and now you want them to bear the responsibility of ownership too? Isn’t that asking too much? It’s like saying the school’s owner is the students, so everyone should clean the classrooms, bathrooms, and even the administrative offices together. The thinking is positively archaic.
“But Your Highness the Princess, do you really wish to keep the Cult Leader at your side to this extent? If Lord Nanakda were to learn that you’re holding these meetings while avoiding both your life partner and your prospective husband, I believe he would be quite pleased.”
“Ah, well, there’s actually a reason for this.”
Looking at those gathered in the Conference Hall, some knew the circumstances and others didn’t. It seemed best to explain from the beginning. Taking that first step had been difficult, but everyone had been accepting regardless. I laid bare my story of regression without hesitation.
I had actually been twenty-one when the nation collapsed entirely, and with Kisomalos facing extinction, I made a contract with the foreign deity Tick-Tock, paid divine power, and regressed to five years old. Due to the complex laws of the timeline—that results from already-occurred futures must yield the same values—and the unpaid divine debt, I must return Kisomalos to a higher deity.
If I fail to clear this, I face the contract violation of repeating a gruesome death at twenty-one. When I laid it out cleanly, everyone except Father dropped their jaws in shock.
“Y-you didn’t mention dying!”
“This little one had actually become an adult before?! No wonder Kisomalos seemed unusually wise!”
“Lord Nanakda! Lord Nanakda, emergency! Her Highness the Princess dies at twenty-one!”
“No, that can’t be right! Kisomalos was supposed to have smooth sailing ahead, which is why he went into exile!”
Kirpan bolted off to tattle to Nanakda, while Genie Teacher insisted her divination couldn’t be wrong and pulled out a divination board, muttering my lunar birthday. The woman who saw the wooden board inscribed with Southern Region dialect spoke with absolute confidence, her Southern-style flowing robes fluttering about her.
“As expected, I was not mistaken! Pisha will live over a hundred years!”
“Wow, that’s certainly welcome news to hear.”
“It’s actually His Majesty the Emperor who might face danger next year!”
Huh? Really? Father should be careful then. I’ll handle all foreign diplomacy myself, and Father should stay put inside the Imperial Palace. It’s best if we avoid war as much as possible.
I don’t blindly trust Genie Teacher, but there’s no harm in heeding ill omens either. Since the matter’s come up, it would be good if Father were cautious about accidents and people, and took proper care of his health.
“This is not the time for this! We must perform a ritual at once! We must pay respects to Netcha, our Grand Teacher, and conduct the teacher-disciple ceremony!”
“Indeed. Kisomalos grew stronger in divine power the more he formed bonds with capable individuals, did he not? Is there a way for our Risto Family to establish a spiritual connection as well?”
“Hey, little one, wouldn’t it be better for you to become an alchemist? Lorowi would welcome it with open arms.”
But if I use alchemy, my sense of self diminishes. If I reduce my sense of self as belonging to Kisomalos to raise divine power, wouldn’t I just become a mere baron again?
When Nanakda, who had once been the Emperor’s Son, went missing, I once ate a baron potato, found it delicious, wept, and declared I would call this potato a duke potato—only to return to the Imperial Palace, eat it again, and order it called a baron potato once more. Drawing on this anecdote and the neologism born from it to express my opinion, the Chief Chamberlain and Choco grew irritated.
“Is this a time to be picky about food? We must raise divine power first!”
“Why, why didn’t you mention this until now?! If we’d known beforehand, we could have prepared!”
“Huh? Oh, I thought I’d mentioned it when I talked about the regression back then. Besides, knowing wouldn’t have changed anything—it would only have caused worry.”
“Good grief, that blockhead!”
“Kisomalos! I really hate Kisomalos!”
Yupi Grandmother had disliked me even before. Why the sudden fuss? When I spoke as if confused, Grandmother let out a sharp cry.
“That kind of hate and this kind of hate are not the same, you fool!”
“Ugh, why do you keep calling me a fool!”
“You’re an idiot, that’s why! You absolute fool!”
Yupi Grandmother was so furious that she scrambled up onto the table and came charging at me, pummeling my head repeatedly. Once Grandmother started, Madam Listo seized my ears and yanked them mercilessly, while Choco pinched my lips, saying I was driving everyone insane.
“Ow! Owwww! (It hurts! It really hurts!)”
“Does a little pain compare to death?!”
“How much time is left? Two years?”
“Counting from your birthday, you have approximately one year and nine months remaining, I believe!”
“This is maddening!”
I wasn’t the only one keeping quiet about this—why was I the only one being beaten? Feeling wronged, I tattled while still making pained sounds.
“Oww! Owwww wwwwww! (Father! Father knew about it too!)”
“Chiron!”
“You stubborn bastard!”
“Hey, come outside! Let’s fight!”
This was the first time I’d seen Choco challenging Father to a fight. She must have been truly furious. And Father, receiving everyone’s glares, wore a serious expression before speaking in his usual carefree tone.
“I didn’t mention it then? I thought everyone already knew.”
“I’ve hated how you’ve always been so nonchalant about everything! That’s exactly why I didn’t want to send Helbatro with you!”
“Hey, listen! Without him, Lorowi will truly fall apart!”
“Honestly, I can’t handle your gunfire either, so let’s just fight with our fists! I won’t draw a blade!”
Choco is certainly composed when she needs to be—though she became remarkably polite once the fight was about to start. And Yupi Grandmother was genuinely concerned about the line continuing. With Aunt becoming Kirke, if we don’t adopt a child, I’m the last heir anyway.
Even if we did adopt, it’s questionable whether anyone could tolerate Grandmother’s temperament. Honestly, because Mother and I are the way we are, we just let Grandmother scratch us without complaint, but a normal person would have fled long ago. Look at Aunt—though it took time, she’s living incredibly happily after leaving Lorowi.
“Yaaaaaaah! Piiiiiiisha! You curly-haired little brat!”
Oh, I can hear Nanakda’s voice coming from far away. The speed at which he’s approaching suggests he was eavesdropping nearby.
The man burst through the Conference Hall doors as if demolishing them, seizing my collar with a tangle of conflicting emotions.
“Don’t die! Don’t you dare die! Who said you could die without my permission! If you die, I’ll just die too?!”
This guy’s trauma switch just got triggered. Whether he’s conflating me with Hisperon, who died a violent death at twenty, Nanakda was trembling with tears while his entire body radiated fury—veins bulging prominently across his hands and forearms.
“Sob! Don’t die. Don’t you dare die. I’ll make concessions. I’ll scrap the entire assassination plan against the King of Media.”
“You’ve been quiet lately, and you were plotting that?!”
Nanakda is someone who will cause serious trouble. Recently he was trying to incite civil war in Media, and now he’s talking about assassinating the king? What frightens me most isn’t just his grandiose words—it’s that this man actually has the ability to pull it off.
“My, going to such lengths for Pisha.”
“I rather like how he doesn’t hesitate to use any means necessary.”
And what exactly about Nanakda do these grandmothers find so endearing that they dote on him like this?

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