The Youngest Member Filming a Parenting Show is Adorable - Chapter 119

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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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【119】
One of the Laximon Elders trembled his beard and shouted loudly.
“Are you certain? Not long ago, there was a village attacked by the Gargoyle Race. How do you explain that?”
The Gargoyle Race.
During the day, they transformed into stone statues and hid themselves in castles, rocky crevices, caves, and the like.
Though their appearance was close to that of monsters, they were classified as Other Races precisely because they possessed their own society and leadership.
Gargoyles consumed fruit, but they accumulated strength through bloodsucking, and the more human blood they drank, the stronger they became.
The Gargoyle Race’s dwelling was in the North District of Bellarion of the Lunar Eclipse.
Yet the village attacked this time was in the Southeast of the Empire.
In other words, the Gargoyle swarms had ventured from their residence.
“The Gargoyle Race leaves their dwellings from time to time for bloodsucking. It’s unfortunate for the villages that fall victim, but it’s unavoidable, isn’t it? They must survive too.”
“Is that what you’re saying now? Shouldn’t we prevent them from doing so?”
“Are you suggesting we exterminate the entire Gargoyle Race? How absurd. The Gargoyles have lived this way since ancient times. You said nothing in the past, yet now you hold Belarion accountable?”
I had never expected the Four Great Ducal Houses meeting to proceed amicably, but as expected.
The mudslinging had begun.
The one mediating was the Isthel Household Master’s Deputy’s Deputy, who wore an awkward smile.
Normally, he wouldn’t even be seated at this table, but this time it was unavoidable.
The bloodline of Isthel could not venture outside on nights when the full moon rose.
“Aha ha, p-please, don’t fight… We gathered to join forces, didn’t we?”
At the words of the man sweating profusely, the Bellarion Household Master let out a scoff and crossed his arms.
Following that, Galiazard raised another point.
“The Black-Bearded Giant Race is also a problem. The Mermaid Tribe, we’ll handle that, but…”
The Gargoyle Race was under Belarion’s purview.
The Mermaid Tribe was under Fasayen’s.
The Dwarf Tribe was under Laximon’s.
The Black-Bearded Giant Race had its stronghold under Isthel’s domain.
The Elves were scattered here and there.
Currently, the Osirian Church’s main force was the Elves, supported by the Dwarves, but other races could equally participate in the war.
Especially the Gargoyle Race—if allowed to drink human blood freely, they had no reason not to join hands with the Osirian Church.
Rather, it was fair to say they already had.
“As for the Black-Bearded Giant Race… aha ha. From what w-we’ve learned, it seems the Osirian Church hasn’t extended their hand to them yet.”
“Do those brutes even possess the intelligence to understand anything?”
The Bellarion Elder sneered.
In truth, the Giant Race was intellectually inferior.
Primitive and savage.
A chieftain and his wife, a shaman, led the swarms, and there were roughly seventeen such Giant Race groups across the world.
One of them happened to be here, in Barateum.
“The Giant Race can destroy civilian areas and uproot castles merely by walking. We must not forget that.”
At Galiazard’s warning, the conference room fell silent.
In truth, the reason Other Races had remained docile until now was their insularity, and simultaneously, they had no reason to form alliances with other races.
But now that a focal point has emerged, the battle won’t be easy.
After all, none of the Awakeners here have ever fought a giant.
As living creatures, they’ll die if we crush their hearts or sever their necks—but the real question is, who among us will actually manage to behead a giant?
“What if each Household takes responsibility for one of the Other Races and handles them?”
“You’re saying we should kill them all? I’m opposed to that. How can we justify exterminating an entire species just so humans can survive?”
“So we should just sit back and suffer?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. Those Other Races have children too. What kind of logic leads someone to conclude we should simply erase them all because they’re a threat?”
The conference was deadlocked.
Some took extreme positions, some remained neutral, and others insisted they should only fight those belonging to the Osirian Church.
With everyone holding different views, the discussion remained completely at an impasse with no progress.
And there was another problem on top of it all.
Who would become the commander?
“It’s already a foregone conclusion that we’ll go to war with the Osirian Church again. We need to establish a proper chain of command.”
Galiazard surveyed those seated around the table.
Rasifer swept his hair back and pretended not to hear, while Ixid leaned back in his chair to make clear he was opting out.
“Isthel is certainly best suited for land warfare. We’re a naval force, after all.”
When Galiazard let out a chuckle and revealed his true intention, the people from Isthel’s side flinched in surprise.
But they couldn’t say anything in response.
Though they couldn’t voice it aloud, Isthel’s current situation was a complete mess.
After the Household Master and his wife fell gloriously in the war against the Other Races, the uncle—a marquis—took the position of Household Master’s Deputy in place of the young heir.
Since then, he’d systematically purged all the previous Household Master’s trusted subordinates from important positions and replaced them with his own people.
Therefore, most of those sitting here had only recently begun handling family affairs.
Unable to venture beyond their native lands, some possessed narrow perspectives and reckless courage—the kind who’d gamble away their very guts.
“In terms of raw individual power, Laximon Household Master’s Deputy, aren’t you the strongest?”
In the conference room filled with noisy chatter.
Someone shouted sharply at Rasifer, who was yawning.
It was more like hurling a stone down on him, really.
Judging by his tone alone.
“Couldn’t you just handle this yourself? Whether it’s the Osirian Church or whatever, they’re all heretics anyway, not real gods. Just gather them all together and eliminate them with magic or whatever!”
“…Sigh.”
It was Rasifer’s shallow sigh that cut through his words.
He made no effort to hide his contempt, speaking with obvious irritation.
“This is exactly why I can’t bring myself to be respectful and obedient to these old fools.”
“What, what did you—!”
“Why should I?”
“….”
“Why would I burden myself with all that karma for anyone’s benefit, huh?”
Crash!
Rasifer lifted his foot and kicked the table over.
It was truly a display of utter disrespect, yet neither Galiazard nor Ixid so much as blinked.
Only those seated along the walls looked flustered.
“It’s not for my Companion either. If I did something like that, how terrified would my Companion be of me? Right? Even I wouldn’t want to live cheek by jowl with someone who’s slaughtered thousands.”
I could do it.
It was certainly possible.
Rasifer could have brought Barateum to its knees in a single day if he wished.
But that required a reason, didn’t it?
‘For instance, if someone had touched even a single strand of Superti’s hair against her wishes.’
I would exterminate three generations of their bloodline.
Keep them alive before death, torture them until they couldn’t die even if they wanted to, then resurrect them again.
And I could make their entire family’s suffering visible before everyone’s eyes.
Forever.
No matter how deeply they had to pay for their sins because of it.
But here’s the thing.
That was the problem.
Would Superti want such a man as her Companion?
‘No. Absolutely not.’
A madman. A butcher. A slaughterer. A rabid beast. A tyrant.
Whatever he became, that loving child could never endure it.
The fact that her Companion was not a righteous person.
If I had never met Superti, who knows what would have become of me. Perhaps I would have sought distraction from my tedious existence through war itself.
But now I was already a life bound to Superti.
How could I possibly commit acts she would despise?
“Stop spouting nonsense. Even if war breaks out again, Laximon will provide only minimal support. We will defend, not attack. We’ll be generous with rear support, but that’s where it ends.”
At the firm declaration, the faces of the Laximon Elders brightened considerably.
Most mages are those who love peace and their homes.
Research only flourishes in peace.
And research happens only when you stay home.
Everything else is irrelevant—just let us research. What need have we for war?
“Indeed, having a madman on our side is reassuring.”
“Sob, I regret all the times I’ve cursed the Household Master’s Deputy.”
“So do I.”
Not only the Elders but the key mages of the Magic Tower seated with them wiped away tears.
“Isn’t that rather selfish?”
It was then.

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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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