Shut Up, Malevolent Dragon! I Don't Want to Have Any More Children With You-Chapter 5Vol . : Wow, WuWu is Art!

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 movements 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 some dragon traits would have appeared by now.

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

*How embarrassing is that?!*

Because of this, Rosvisser hadn’t left the baby’s side, hoping that one miraculous moment 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 ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) 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 judgment.

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

By extension, his daughter was shielded from ridicule.

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

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

“Let’s let the baby choose,” Rosvisser suggested with a glimmer 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 movements were fluid and elegant, showing none of the fatigue one would expect from someone who had just given birth.

Leon watched in amazement. Rosvisser tore the paper in half and wrote one name 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 meant by letting her choose?”

“Yup! Pretty clever, right?”

“...Sure. Very clever.”

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

Leon buried his face in his hands. “Humans have a name 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 name and her future career.”

He left to prepare the items, leaving Rosvisser to entertain the baby. When he returned, he dumped an assortment 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 means she’ll have a deep affinity for magic,” Leon explained with mock seriousness.

Rosvisser was about to compliment his cleverness when she spotted something suspicious in the pile. Reaching in, she pulled out an abstract-looking musical instrument.

“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 something 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 doomed 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 name 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 something 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, some 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 name papers. She picked up one, began to unfold it, and then stopped, hesitating.

After a long moment, 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 agreement, a warm glow in his heart as he looked at their youngest daughter.

“Welcome to the family, Muse.”