Shut Up Malevolent Dragon I Dont Want To Have Any More Children With You Chapter 520

[ … words ]

Moon’s supposed “sevenfold love” for her sister had now transformed into sevenfold pain.  

She couldn’t even hold out until they returned home to use the bathroom.  

If possible, she wanted to commandeer the park’s restroom under the authority of her title as the “Second Princess of the Silver Dragons.”  

Noa, Helena, and Aurora waited patiently outside the restroom, exchanging occasional glances.  

If Moon was lucky, she’d walk out. If less so, she might crawl out. If luck abandoned her entirely, Noa would have to go in and rescue her.  

“How many ice creams did she eat?” Noa asked.  

“Seven,” Aurora replied.  

Noa blinked in confusion. “Why seven? Isn’t that excessive?”  

“She originally bought ten.”  

“Did you eat the other three, Aurora?” Noa asked, already planning how to handle her two troublesome sisters tonight.  

Aurora shook her head quickly. “Uh…no, I didn’t. We had… a reliable helper.”  

Helper? She meant the pigeon that had been forced to eat three of the ice creams.  

Noa sighed. As long as Aurora was fine, she decided not to pry into the identity of the so-called “helper.”  

—

About ten minutes passed, and there was still no sign of Moon. Noa finally stepped forward.  

“I’ll go fetch her.”  

Moments later, Noa emerged, carrying an utterly drained Moon on her back.  

Moon slumped over her sister, her big eyes swirling in dizzy spirals. Her little arms dangled limply over Noa’s shoulders, and her tail hung lifelessly.  

“I’ll never eat ice cream again,” she mumbled weakly. “Ice cream… evil…”  

Aurora approached, poking Moon’s limp tail, then patting her cheeks.  

“Second Sister is beyond saving,” Aurora declared solemnly.  

“Let’s head home,” Noa said.  

“Alright.”  

The little dragonesses passed through the clan square and residential streets, finally reaching the Silver Dragon Sanctuary.  

—

As they entered the sanctuary’s grand hall, a melodic and graceful piano tune filled the air.  

“The sound is coming from Mom’s piano room,” Aurora said. “But it’s been ages since she played, hasn’t it?”  

Rosvisser, burdened with her duties, rarely had time for piano practice. Any free moments were often spent with Leon, ensuring “assignments” were completed.  

The last time Aurora had heard her mother play was shortly after she was born, supposedly to instill some musical inclination in her.  

As Aurora grew older, however, her interest turned toward magical research, leaving music far behind. Rosvisser didn’t mind—she believed her daughters should pursue what made them happiest.  

Although Rosvisser herself wasn’t deeply passionate about music, she occasionally enjoyed showcasing her skills when the mood struck.  

The piano’s soothing notes resonated throughout the sanctuary, drawing the dragonettes to slow their steps and savor the rare performance.  

—

But as they immersed themselves in the melody, a sharp, piercing sound suddenly interrupted.  

It sliced through the tranquility like a blade, jarring and unexpected.  

Noa frowned. “It’s not exactly bad…but what *is* that? I’ve never heard anything like it.”  

“Is this some kind of unique Silver Dragon instrument?” Helena asked curiously.  

Noa shook her head. “No, and it doesn’t seem like something Mom would enjoy playing. Aurora, any idea what it is?”  

Aurora scratched her head, equally perplexed. “No clue. None of Mom’s instruments can make a sound this… aggressive.”  

From Noa’s back, Moon weakly raised a hand. “I… I know what it is…”  

“You’re awake, Moon? What is it, then?”  

“Dad showed me once…” she croaked. “He said it’s a new instrument he made because the sanctuary didn’t have one…”  

Noa and Aurora exchanged wary glances.  

Leon was a dependable and straightforward father—but only in battle. In everyday life, his eccentricity often left his daughters bewildered.  

Aurora, in particular, had suffered greatly. She was convinced her indifference to music was 70% her dad’s fault.  

When she was still in the womb, Leon had allegedly played all sorts of bizarre “music” near Rosvisser’s belly. At least, that’s what her mom had told her.  

Now, hearing that their father had invented a new instrument, Noa and Aurora froze in dread.  

“What’s it called?” Noa asked cautiously.  

Moon blinked dizzily. “Dad called it… a ‘Eargasm Maker.’”  

The sisters exchanged a horrified look.  

“We need to leave,” Noa said decisively.  

“Agreed, Big Sister!” Aurora added. “Helena can’t find out how *weird* our family actually is!”  

“Hey, Helena, let’s head upstairs and rest before dinner,” Noa said hastily.  

“Okay,” Helena replied, though she seemed a bit puzzled by their abruptness.  

The trio hurried upstairs, leaving the increasingly chaotic sound behind.  

—

### Ten Minutes Earlier

In the piano room, Leon stood proudly beside a gramophone he had somehow unearthed.  

“Rosvisser, I think it’s time to start prenatal education for our fourth child!” he declared.  

Rosvisser lounged on the couch, her silver tail draped over the side, lazily flicking in response.  

Her gaze shifted from the gramophone to her husband’s overly earnest face.  

“You’re not planning to play *those* human classics again, are you?”  

Leon blinked. “What do you mean ‘again’? I’ve never played those before!”  

Rosvisser snorted. “Strange, then. If you never played them, why do I remember you sneaking into my room at night while I was pregnant with Aurora to blast weird music at my belly?”  

“Wait, you were awake back then?!”  

“Not fully. I only woke up because of *you,* not the music.”  

Leon scratched his head in confusion. “What did I do?”  

“You didn’t stop at the music. You started singing—loudly.”  

Rosvisser shuddered at the memory, sitting upright as if to shake off the lingering discomfort.  

“Promise me, dear. Do whatever you want, but *don’t sing.*”  

Leon blushed. “What’s wrong with my singing? Is it that bad?”  

Rosvisser didn’t hold back. “It’s *lethal.*”  

“Then how did you tolerate it back then?”  

Rosvisser’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Because you looked so earnest and adorable. I couldn’t bear to stop you.”  

Leon’s eyes sparkled. “Ah, Rosvisser! You were already falling for my charm back then!”  

“Don’t flatter yourself, dear. ‘Adorable’ was *not* a compliment.”  

“…Whatever.”  

Shaking his head, Leon patted the gramophone beside him. “Past is past. Now, it’s time to let our fourth child experience the world’s wonders early!”