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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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To Arwen’s question about children, I’d simply said,
“We’ll talk about it later.”
It was a natural response.
We weren’t even married yet, let alone having our first child. It was too early to be planning how many children we’d have.
Elena had declared her intention to have four, but that was her prerogative.
And it wasn’t just a simple dismissal. Arwen had to endure a lecture.
Having children with Arwen meant having half-vampire children. Since Arwen was a True Ancestor who’d overcome her weakness to sunlight, our children wouldn’t suffer the same fate, but there were still potential problems.
“I don’t mind you creating servants by sharing your blood. But you’re a True Ancestor. This isn’t about some low-level vampire you created. These children would inherit half your blood! Even dragons are dwindling in number. We can’t have transcendental beings multiplying like rabbits!”
“That’s true, but… more children is better, isn’t it? It’s just a matter of raising them.”
Arwen responded sullenly to my rapid-fire lecture.
We were both knowledgeable about magic, so we understood the implications.
Children inheriting half of Arwen’s blood, the blood of the True Ancestor, the progenitor of all vampires, was a significant event. The same applied to Sylphia and our future half-dragon children.
If we had, say, eleven children, enough to form a soccer team, it would mean eleven incredibly powerful transcendental beings inheriting half of Arwen’s bloodline.
Similarly, if I had eleven children with Sylphia, it would mean eleven half-dragons.
The other dragons, who’d initially scoffed at Sylphia’s choice of partner, would realize the gravity of the situation and come looking for us.
‘They probably wouldn’t try to stop us from having more children, but… they wouldn’t be happy about it.’
I’d been slightly panicked by the thought of having twenty children, but even I knew that was excessive.
I had to draw the line at four, Elena’s proposed number.
And if I had to guess…
“It’s a matter of survival.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
Even twenty children was overwhelming. Just naming them would be a chore, and I wasn’t sure I could handle that many.
In my past life, harem endings were common in male-oriented media.
They said heroes were supposed to be womanizers, with multiple wives and concubines.
But having experienced it firsthand, I could say with certainty, that was just a fantasy, an optimistic expectation based on inexperience.
With five wives, my survival was a legitimate concern. And I had a valid excuse, until I found a cure, I had to… engage with them regularly to prevent their conditions from worsening.
I shuddered at the thought, then, remembering something, I warned Arwen,
“We’ll think about children after the wedding. Don’t get any ideas!”
Arwen looked disappointed.
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Meanwhile, a new plot was brewing in the Imperial Palace.
It wasn’t unusual.
The palace was a battlefield, albeit one without bloodshed. Instead of weapons, they wielded words, scheming and plotting.
Entering the palace was like entering a warzone.
“I don’t like this.”
Eileen said, her lips twisting into a grimace.
She maintained her usual cold demeanor, but the subtle twitch of her lips and the fire in her eyes betrayed her anger.
But the others, facing the wrath of the Grand Duchess of Nord, a woman feared by all, were smiling.
It was a smile that didn’t reach their eyes. Even Elena, who’d let out a soft chuckle, looked far from amused.
Lassiel and Sylphia were also present.
The four of them, excluding Arwen, who was with me, had gathered in Elena’s private office.
They were plotting.
“I don’t like it either. I’m sure everyone here feels the same.”
Sylphia said, setting the tone.
“Of course. Who would like this? I’d love to just… destroy them.”
Lassiel added, her voice laced with venom.
Several copies of the offending newspapers, from different publishers, were spread across the table.
The headlines were sensational, and they all targeted me. Just as I’d planned, and just as they’d anticipated.
Sylphia realized something.
Human malice was so blatant, so overt, it was almost more disgusting than subtle manipulation.
“They’re targeting Rudrick because he’s the easiest target.”
Elena muttered, tapping her finger on the table.
It was obvious. I was the easiest target, with the least repercussions. Sylphia and Arwen were unknowns, and the others were too high-profile to attack directly.
I was the low-hanging fruit, the newly successful mage who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
This was all part of my plan, but the four of them shared a single thought.
They had to do something. They had to silence these reporters.
“Let’s brainstorm. What are your thoughts?”
“We should teach them a lesson. It might not be elegant, but it would be satisfying.”
“Let’s hold off on that. That’s a last resort. It’s messy.”
Elena said, shaking her head at Lassiel’s suggestion.
Violence was a quick and easy solution, but even as a princess, Elena couldn’t do whatever she wanted.
She could probably get away with it, given the Emperor’s current state, but the aftermath would be troublesome.
Various suggestions were offered.
Using their vast wealth to crush other media outlets, or leveraging their power to impose regulations and force them into submission.
If these four women were determined to retaliate, even a duke wouldn’t be safe, let alone a newspaper publisher.
But no matter the method, it wouldn’t be as satisfying as capturing the reporters and torturing them.
They hadn’t reached a conclusion when Sylphia, who’d been silent after suggesting they use their wealth to crush the competition, suddenly spoke, her eyes gleaming.
“I’ll just… appear in my true form at the wedding.”
Her voice was chilling.
The effect was immediate.
Three pairs of eyes turned to her.
Sylphia, unfazed, continued,
“And if that’s not enough, the bat can join me. She can drop that ridiculous polymorph and reveal her true form too.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course.”
Her voice was cold, her eyes sharp.
Sylphia gritted her teeth.
“These insignificant insects dare to provoke us? We’ll show them what happens.”
They were my wives-to-be, but their anger at those who’d insulted their future husband was immeasurable.
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