Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 91

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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 91. Formal Meetings Between Families Often Carry Different Meanings. But Here, It Means Exactly That (5)
“Croa?”
Her expression suggested she had no idea who that was. My suspicion proved correct when the Crown Prince of Media whispered to his mother, “The cursed child.” The Queen of Media’s face paled immediately.
“My apologies. I trust the Princess did not intend such a remark, but if you meant to insult me….”
Why would resembling Croa be an insult? As I stood there bewildered, Emperor fluttered his four-dimensional cloak dramatically and rummaged through a photo album.
Pages flipped past—all containing my photographs, which made me slightly uncomfortable.
“Here it is.”
It appeared to be a childhood growth record, with separate sections for Croa and Shirley Khan. Still, my pages dominated the album overwhelmingly, which bothered me somewhat—though understanding its purpose made the discomfort more bearable.
“My goodness.”
“This is your younger brother?”
The photograph showed a fourteen-year-old Croa holding my hand, beaming brightly. Ah, of course! These people remembered him from four years ago—that gaunt, skeletal version.
“How can I ever thank you for raising him so wonderfully?”
“It’s remarkable. He’s so different from how I remember him. Truly impressive.”
The Queen continued expressing gratitude, tears streaming down her face. Yet I felt inexplicably irritated receiving her thanks. Perhaps it was her tone—as if she were thanking me for raising a pet rather than a person—but something about it rankled me deeply.
Why did they speak of my brother as though he belonged to them?
“Looking after my people is simply my duty. There’s no need for thanks.”
“How magnanimous.”
“It seems I may be marrying into a woman of considerable generosity.”
My ears felt uncomfortably warm. I found myself fidgeting with them, wanting to wash them in warm water, when Prisoner gently placed a hand on my head, silently asking me to be patient.
“Shall we review the contract terms?”
At Emperor’s words, attendants from both Media and Kisomalos exchanged documents. I received my own copy and read through it carefully—a standard marriage contract.
Once the couple inherited their respective nations, they would rule jointly. The contract specified the extent of influence I could exercise over Media and the degree to which Media could interfere in Kisomalos affairs, proportionate to each kingdom’s standing.
“The terms themselves seem reasonable, but what exactly do you intend to do with Croa?”
I asked out of genuine curiosity, and they replied it was a state secret they couldn’t discuss yet. They chattered on about how they’d explain everything once the marriage alliance was formalized. But Emperor seemed to know something, for he suddenly mentioned a foreign nation’s name.
“Does this concern Astiages?”
What? Why was the Northern Empire’s name suddenly brought up? I was as startled as the Queen and Crown Prince of Media appeared to be.
“We cannot disclose that.”
“Haha, it seems you have some idea. We’ll provide details once the alliance is formalized.”
“Media needs a long-range assassination puppet for only one reason.”
Ah. Now I understood.
Media had long ignored Kisomalos and allied with Astiages instead. Someone in the succession dispute had gained their support. If they used Croa to eliminate their rival, they’d become the first architect of placing their chosen successor on the throne.
But wouldn’t that be catastrophic for us? If we ruled jointly, we’d be forced to submit to Astiages according to Media’s ideology.
Boom!
I had come prepared to accept the marriage alliance if everything went well. Prisoner, however, had come prepared for the opposite scenario. As that realization struck me, an explosion erupted outside.
Immediately, armed attendants drew their weapons rapidly, and gunfire erupted several times. The Kisomalos attendants reacted faster, and all the Media attendants fell.
“What is the meaning of this!”
“You came armed, so you must have known the danger.”
“But we made such concessions!”
“True. You certainly tried to resolve this peacefully.”
Yes, I saw it too. The contract revealed their desperation—willing to accept any loss if it meant taking Croa and finalizing the marriage alliance.
“But what does that even matter?”
Prisoner came out with astounding audacity.
“We have no intention whatsoever of handing over Croa.”
I share that sentiment entirely. If this marriage alliance had included provisions to use Croa only once, or to employ his abilities with mutual consent from both sides… I might have been tempted. Honestly, I want Media’s territory! It’s a strategic hub, you understand! They even have access to the sea!
“Wow! Sorry for the wait! I’ve taken care of everything!”
Not long after the explosion sounded outside, Choco entered the conference room, brushing dust from her clothes. The Queen of Media had brought along a considerable security detail and military force, yet she’d already subdued them all? When I asked about this, Choco clicked her tongue and wagged her index finger dismissively.
“Subdued? No.”
Choco corrected my word choice, explaining cheerfully what had transpired outside.
“Genocide.”
“Wow…”
This half-severed woman has done it again. Every time you come to Loruruje Fortress, you pull something like this. I can’t tell if you’re compatible with this land or incompatible.
“Genocide? What is this madness!”
“This is impossible. Unthinkable. Do you truly believe you can commit such an atrocity and walk away unscathed?!”
Ah… you two are quite shocked, aren’t you? Well, I couldn’t believe it myself until I saw it firsthand, but apparently there exists a genius of close combat in this world. Someone who cuts down a thousand men in a single night? That’s our Choco right here. Impressive, isn’t she?
“Lower the drawbridge on Media’s side. We’ll advance with the chariot corps, crushing everything in our path.”
And there exists someone with mobility gone mad, leading a chariot unit to traverse Ljubljana’s entire territory in a single day. That’s my father. Impressive, isn’t he? A madman, really.
“Hah.”
I sipped my tea while watching the Queen of Media and the Crown Prince of Media being bound. It’s reassuring to travel with such formidable people, and I must admit, it makes my own accomplishments seem rather humble.
As I smacked my lips and ate some pastries, the Crown Prince of Media spewed curses with a face twisted in rage.
“Be cursed! Be cursed, Kisomalos!”
“Curses only work on Croa, don’t they?”
“Ugh!”
Why does someone who isn’t even of legitimate descent insist on acting like he is and trying to inherit the kingdom? This is divine punishment, plain and simple. Media must be furious.
As I rambled on about divine punishment, the Queen of Media shrieked hysterically.
“That wretch! I should never have given birth to something worse than a dog!”
I was glad Croa hadn’t come. I gazed sympathetically at the woman bound in chains, then took another sip of tea. Choco approached me with a grin.
“Should I kill them?”
“No. We execute them only with Croa’s consent.”
“I see. As expected, you’re quite thoughtful, Pisha.”
That’s right—my thinking is deeper than my peers. I’m over twenty, after all.
As Choco and I exchanged banter, soldiers from the Kisomalos Military dragged cables and placed a microphone before Prisoner. It seemed a broadcast address was about to be made.
“Oh! Emperor, we look forward to seeing you shine!”
“Let’s go, let’s fight, let’s win! Please do!”
Father gave us a pitying look, then cleared his throat and activated the microphone.
“Until now, Media has deceived neighboring nations by sacrificing the true heir and elevating a false one. Our military stands with Media’s rightful anger. This is a war to restore Croa Gede Media to his rightful place. We now begin our advance.”
As Father’s measured words concluded, cheers erupted outside. A just cause was invaluable for raising our troops’ morale. And with divine will on our side, we truly felt like an army of righteousness.
Everything is divine will, everything is justice—there’s no phrase more potent as a trigger for war. Eloquent, truly eloquent.

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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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