Shut Up, Malevolent Dragon! I Don't Want to Have Any More Children With You-Chapter 3Vol 5. : What Am I, a Wishing Fountain?

Playing the suona was one of General Leon’s infamous abstract talents, so agreeing not to teach it to their third child wasn’t an issue. After all, talent could be inherited, but eccentricity couldn’t, and Leon understood this well.

“Alright, I won’t teach the baby to play the suona,” he agreed quickly.

Rosvisser smiled faintly, her lips curving upward as she said weakly,

“And... I love you... ah... ahhh...”

Even talking to her beloved husband as a distraction couldn’t completely dull the intense pain of labor. Her attention faltered as the physicians around her became increasingly busy.

Leon gently brushed his hand across her face, smoothing out the furrows of pain on her brow.

“What else? Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

Normally, getting Leon—the upright and unyielding dragon-slaying hero—to listen to someone else’s requests, even politely, required some effort. Negotiations with him often involved a bit of back-and-forth.

But this was no ordinary situation. With his wife in labor, Leon had to follow Isa’s earlier advice: accommodate Rosvisser’s every demand as much as possible.

Little did he know, poor Leon had walked right into another trap.

“Don’t... don’t rush me... you’re so annoying...”

Her voice, weak yet laced with a touch of playful anger and faint resentment, made her furrowed brows look all the more pitiful.

Leon’s heart melted instantly.

“Alright, I won’t rush you. Take your time. I’ll listen.”

Despite the agony wracking her body, Rosvisser closed her eyes and thought for a moment before speaking again.

“After this... love me like you did when I was pregnant...”

“...What?” Leon blinked, caught off guard.

“I mean, if I say east, you don’t go west. If I say one, you don’t say three. Even if it’s the middle of the night and I want an apple, you peel it, slice it, and bring it to me on a plate...”

“Uh...”

“You don’t love me anymore, Leon. I knew it. I hate you.”

Rosvisser’s voice wavered, and her expression turned even more pitiful.

“They say women are princesses for a day, queens for ten months, and then slaves for a lifetime...”

“Wait, wait! No, no, no!” Leon shook his head furiously, gripping her hand tightly.

“I promise! After the baby is born, I’ll treat you just as well as I did when you were pregnant.”

Though the thought of a mighty dragon-slaying hero being reduced to a devoted slave seemed exaggerated, Leon agreed without hesitation.

Rosvisser, however, assumed her demands were simply the ramblings of a pain-addled mind. Surely, once the baby was born, she would... forget about them, right?

“You’d better...” she murmured.

“I will, I promise,” Leon assured her.

“And... you’ll make breakfast every day,” she added.

“Well, normally we alternate—Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are your days, and Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday are mine. Sundays—”

“Sundays, they don’t even have breakfast because they stay up late on Saturday finishing assignments and sleep until midday,” she interrupted.

“You idiot. How can you be so meticulous with me right now? Do you not love me anymore?”

“...”

Leon felt like he was playing a video game. Along the way, he’d fought minor enemies, learned their patterns, and gained experience. But now, at the boss fight, he realized the boss not only knew every move the smaller enemies had used but had upgraded versions of all of them.

Rosvisser was that final boss. The past ten months had just been grinding for this moment.

“Of course I love you,” Leon replied, his tone as soothing as if he were consoling a child.

“I’ll make breakfast every day. Anything else, Your Majesty?”

Her smile returned—faint but genuine, a rare sight amidst the pain.

“And I want you to wash my feet every night.”

“Okay.”

“And my tail, too.”

“Sure.”

“When I wake up in the morning, the first thing you say must be to me.”

“Alright.”

“And the last thing you say at night must also be to me.”

“Of course.”

“When I cook with carrots, you can’t complain.”

“Uh... wait, what?”

Leon froze. Of all things, carrots were his nemesis. Even their smell made his head spin, and a single bite could send him into a full-blown meltdown.

Back when he and Rosvisser had been adversaries, she had used carrots and eggplants to torment him more times than he could count.

“What’s wrong? You just said you’d do anything for me, but now you’re backing out?” she teased, her voice laced with feigned ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) indignation.

Leon groaned. “Fine... fine. I promise not to run away when you cook with carrots.”

“And okra,” she added.

Leon: *(╯－＿－）╯*

“And when it’s winter, if I throw a snowball at you, you can’t dodge.”

“Alright.”

“Every year, you have to celebrate my birthday. No complaining.”

“Okay.”

“If I help you with something, you say, ‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’ If you help me with something, you still say, ‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’”

Leon raised a brow. “Why would I thank you if I helped you?”

“For giving you the opportunity to help me, of course.”

Leon continued to nod and agree to her increasingly strange demands, though inside he couldn’t help but wonder: *Wait a minute... this doesn’t feel right.*

He had agreed to be her distraction during labor, and he was happy to do it. But these demands... they didn’t feel spur-of-the-moment.

No, they felt... premeditated.

A chill ran down his spine.

He turned, suspecting the mastermind behind this wasn’t Rosvisser herself but rather the red-haired dragon standing behind him.

“Brother-in-law,” Isa’s voice purred before he could fully turn.

Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder, and she leaned close to whisper in his ear,

“Don’t forget to keep your promises. Little Ros worked hard to come up with them.”

“Just as I thought!”

Leon closed his eyes in resignation, taking a deep breath before slowly opening them again.

“Fine, I get it, Sis.”

“That’s the spirit!” Isa replied, pleased. Their little conspiracy had succeeded.

But Rosvisser, who knew her husband better than anyone, found his compliance suspicious. Hadn’t this gone a little too smoothly?

Before she could dwell on it, a sharp pain brought her back to the present.

“Push, Your Majesty. Breathe deeply and follow my count!” Anna instructed.

“Prince Consort, the baby is almost here. Please step aside for now,” Milan added.

Leon reluctantly let go of Rosvisser’s hand, stepping back to give the physicians room.

The room was filled with quiet urgency—commands, footsteps, the rustling of fabric, and Rosvisser’s strained breaths.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, the sharp cry of a newborn broke the night’s stillness.

Tears of relief and joy flowed freely as the maids embraced one another, celebrating the birth of a new life in the Silver Dragon clan.

Leon and Rosvisser, too, welcomed their fourth child into the world, the exhaustion on their faces replaced with overwhelming love and pride.