Shut Up, Malevolent Dragon! I Don’t Want to Have Any More Children With You Vol. 5 Ch. 5

A little girl had just learned to crawl, but there were still no signs of a tail.

On the large bed, the baby crawled forward while the queen followed behind her, their movents strangely synchronized. Leon, standing at the side, couldn’t bear to watch.

“Why are you staring at the baby’s butt?” Rosvisser asked.

“I’ll say it again—it’s not her butt. It’s her **tailbone**!” Leon retorted.

Rosvisser sighed as she scooped up their youngest daughter, who was attempting to eat a stuffed teddy bear near the bed’s headboard.

“How can this be? Why hasn’t her tail grown yet?”

Leon smirked smugly.

“Face it, Mother Dragon. This is a victory for human genetics. Accept it!”

For days, Rosvisser had been puzzled. Even if the lack of a tail at birth could be attributed to the *Blood Bond*, surely so dragon traits would have appeared by now.

She, the mighty Silver Dragon Queen, had given birth to a child who seed more human than dragon.

*How embarrassing is that?!*

Because of this, Rosvisser hadn’t left the baby’s side, hoping that one miraculous mont would bring about the sudden appearance of a tail.

But clearly, her prayers had gone unanswered.

“It’s just a temporary thing. Her tail will grow eventually!” Rosvisser insisted in a final attempt to cling to hope.

Leon chuckled but refrained from teasing her further. For now, he let her have her last stand. Rosvisser had just given birth, and her body hadn’t fully recovered. Picking a fight wasn’t on his agenda.

“That said, how are we explaining her lack of a tail to others? Calling it an ‘exceptionally rare case’—does that really sound convincing?” Leon asked, his tone light but curious.

“Of course, it does!” Rosvisser replied confidently.

She adjusted her position on the bed, sitting sideways with the baby perched on her lap. Supporting the child’s back with one hand and cupping her soft cheeks with the other, she doted on the little one.

“After all, we’ve gotten away with worse excuses over the years. Nobody ever doubted my *lucky dragon* explanations.”

“Are you sure about that? Didn’t your sister, Isha, see right through all of it?”

“She’s an exception. She’s too smart for her own good. Not my fault!” Rosvisser huffed.

Leon chuckled. “Well, at least she’s *our* daughter. Even without a tail, no one would dare talk behind her back.”

In dragon society, a tail was more than just an aesthetic feature—it was often a symbol of status and identity.

Dragons without tails were rare and typically outcasts or fugitives, subjected to scrutiny and judgnt.

Leon, of course, had avoided such criticism despite being tailless himself. His reputation as a fearso dragon slayer and his unmatched strength ensured no one dared mock him.

By extension, his daughter was shielded from ridicule.

Rosvisser nodded in agreent and continued playing with their youngest. “By the way, we should finalize her na.”

Leon nodded. “Last ti, we narrowed it down to Violet and Muse, but we haven’t decided yet.”

“Let’s let the baby choose,” Rosvisser suggested with a glimr of mischief.

“Choose? How?”

“Watch and learn,” she replied with a confident grin.

Sliding gracefully off the bed, Rosvisser retrieved a piece of paper and a quill. Her movents were fluid and elegant, showing none of the fatigue one would expect from soone who had just given birth.

Leon watched in amazent. Rosvisser tore the paper in half and wrote one na on each piece before crumpling them into two small balls. She then placed them in front of the baby.

“Ta-da! The baby will pick one,” Rosvisser declared.

Leon blinked in realization. “That’s what you ant by letting her choose?”

“Yup! Pretty clever, right?”

“…Sure. Very clever.”

“This is an innovative, one-of-a-kind solution!” Rosvisser proclaid proudly.

Leon buried his face in his hands. “Humans have a na for this, you know.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“‘Grab the First’—a tradition where families place various objects around a baby on their first birthday. The object the baby grabs is believed to predict their future.”

Rosvisser’s eyes lit up. “That sounds so fun! Let’s do that too!”

Leon chuckled. “Fine. We’ll let her grab for her na and her future career.”

He left to prepare the items, leaving Rosvisser to entertain the baby. When he returned, he dumped an assortnt of objects onto the bed.

Rosvisser inspected the items: a gold coin, a book, and a recording stone among them.

“Okay, I get the coin and book. But why a recording stone?”

“If she picks the recording stone, it ans she’ll have a deep affinity for magic,” Leon explained with mock seriousness.

Rosvisser was about to complint his cleverness when she spotted sothing suspicious in the pile. Reaching in, she pulled out an abstract-looking musical instrunt.

“And *why* is this suona here? Didn’t you promise not to teach her this?”

“Art, my dear. The suona represents art!”

Rosvisser glared. “It’s way too abstract. Find sothing else to represent art!”

Leon shrugged. “It’s all I could find on short notice. Let’s see if she even picks it.”

“You’ve already dood her artistic future with this. There’s no way she’ll choose the suona!”

“Don’t be so sure,” Leon teased. “Let’s wait and see.”

With everything in place, they laid the items around the baby and added the two crumpled na papers.

“Alright, little one, it’s up to you now,” Rosvisser said, her voice gentle and encouraging.

The baby looked at the items, her eyes darting between them like a cautious field mouse surveying its surroundings.

First, she reached for one item, examined it, and then discarded it in favor of sothing shinier.

“She’s definitely going to be rich,” Leon joked as she briefly held the gold coin before moving on.

The baby’s indecision continued as she inspected a book, a sword, and even a piece of candy. But then, to Rosvisser’s horror, the baby began crawling toward the suona.

“No, no, no! Not that one!” Rosvisser cried, but it was too late.

“Waah-yaah-waah!” the baby babbled as she grabbed the suona triumphantly.

Leon smirked. “Rosvisser, so things are just destined to be. Resistance is futile.”

Rosvisser crossed her arms. “Fine. But even if she grabbed it, you’re still not allowed to teach her how to play it!”

Leon raised his hands in surrender. “Agreed, agreed.”

Finally, the baby turned her attention to the two na papers. She picked up one, began to unfold it, and then stopped, hesitating.

After a long mont, she grabbed the other paper and opened it instead.

Leon and Rosvisser leaned in eagerly.

The paper unfurled to reveal elegant handwriting: **Muse.**

“Muse it is,” Rosvisser said with a smile.

Leon nodded in agreent, a warm glow in his heart as he looked at their youngest daughter.

“Welco to the family, Muse.”