Chương 1610: [1515] – Y07.015 – A World of Trouble V

"Oh my gosh!" the little girl said, charging up to the returning figures, those she called her papos and kakos, especially to one in particular, a lean woman, her hair cut to her ears, her eyes focused on the little girl with a typical keenness, as the girl grabbed onto her leg.

"Kako! Kako!"

"Jirot," Kitool replied, lifting the girl up, then did the same to her brother, the pair clutching upon her shoulders tightly.

"I missed you so much, kako."

"I apologise for leaving for so long, but I was required to assist."

"I know, kako, I know." The girl hugged the woman's head, their warm cheeks flush against one another, tiny chubby fingers slipped through the sea of dark hair. Konarot looked up towards her father, who looked down towards her, and for a moment, a tension remain in the air, until finally the girl hugged her father's leg, squeezing it tight, while Kirot and Karot each claimed a leg, though Karot found himself without, until his father lifted the boy up, so his son claimed his arms.

A pair of Iyrmen glared out towards another pair, each almost twice their age, and certainly, twice their power, or at the very least…

"Did you at least reach Grandmaster?" Chosen asked.

"No, but I am close."

"If you were going to steal our future, you should have at least gone that far!"

"You brat! Do you think I will not beat you?" Mosen stood, reaching for his blade to teach his son a lesson.

"Chisen! You must gain justice for your brother!" Chisen turned her head up towards her father, raising her brow to see if he would dare to act before her.

"My deepest apologies," Mosen said, suddenly kept at bay by his daughter's glare, for certainly, within the Iyr, their daughters were the most terrifying. Chisen smirked, the girl sitting up slightly taller, only to be caught by her elder brother, who almost tossed her up, but certainly his father would have beaten him if he did, so he leaned in to nuzzle against her nose, and the pair hugged tightly.

"Just you wait until I send her back, you brat."

"Jirot, do you see? My father bullies me so!" Chosen called, for if Chisen alone wasn't enough, would he dare to step forward when this girl, whose greatfather was her greatfather, told him off? Jirot glanced between Chosen and Mosen, letting out a soft sigh, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face.

"Babo, why is it always your nephew and grandnephew who always cause trouble?" Shasen, inhaling deeply, let out a long sigh, losing the stress within his shoulders, especially since he was about to do that.

"Pray for me, my Jisen." Jirot side eyed her babo.

"Pray for me, my Jirot."

"I will pray," the girl assured, nodding her head emphatically, for at a time like this, for these troublemakers, yes, she required the assistance of the Divine. At that time, another father and son were squaring off between one another, their eyes glued firmly together, their gazes refusing to surrender. Neither blinked, each ready to draw their blades.

"Papo," called a small voice, her silver tail swaying behind her.

"Welcome back."

"I have returned," Tanagek confirmed, picking his niece up, the pair hugging for a moment, the young Iyrman greeting his other nieces and nephews at the same time.

"For the sake of my nieces and nephew, I will let you go." The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Who is letting who go?" Tonagek replied, his voice like his son's, stone cold. Jirot paused a moment, for though she had caused some trouble, her eyes slowly shifted to the side, against a figure even she could not defeat, then her eyes went from her to another figure, one who she couldn't help but defeat, even when she did nothing.

"…"

"Daddy!" the girl called, charging her father, hugging his leg.

"You are back! I knew you would come back! I did not doubt you at all!" Adam sniffled, and though he had pretended to make to cry, it came upon him suddenly, like a wave of relief slapping across his face, the half elf hoisting his twins up, planting firm kisses on their cheeks.

"This father of yours has returned! Even though he did not beat up the Order of the Wings, he still returned swiftly, and he also rewarded them greatly!"

"You did not beat them up?" Jirot asked, furrowing her brows.

"Daddy, how-," Vonda cleared her throat.

"Good job, daddy, you did so well," the girl said, hugging her father's head, enveloping his head within her hugs, the scent of the Iyr's lotions filling the half elf's heart.

"I know it was difficult, but you did well. Good job, daddy, showing such restraint." Adam sniffled, though suddenly sobered up, all the while the girl rubbed his head.

"Jirot, you speak as though you're older. Are you bullying your father by growing up too quickly?" Jirot huffed, pulling away from her father, opening her mouth to retort, then her eyes slipped towards her mother once more, and the girl reached over to cover her mouth, for she was unable to help the smirk.

"It is most unfortunate you are considering such thoughts, daddy." Adam closed his eyes, focusing on not laughing, when his eyes shifted aside, to meet with his son's, which beamed so brightly, the boy smiling shyly, and surrendered under his father's assault of affection.

Vonda smiled, greeting her husband, the pair exchanging quick kisses, causing a tiny girl to cry aloud, rushing up towards them, only to be stopped by her mother, who tossed her up lightly, causing Virot to furrow her brows in confusion, side eyeing her mother, and in that momentary distraction, forgot to bully her father. The girl then flushed, as her mother smiled so tenderly towards her, and she hid her face, cackling lightly, not understanding the smile was one so full of pain.

Certainly, they would need to tell the children soon.

'Why do the greetings always take so long?' the old one armed Iyrman thought, but seeing the joy upon his greatdaughter's face, he forgave them. The half elf settled with his children, trapped under his five eldest, who refused to even let him sit. The triplets claimed his legs and his torso, while the twins claimed his arms, all the while Jirot read to the half elf. Jurot stood awkward, for as he fed Damrot, he waited until the children had thoroughly bullied their father so he could finally speak to them.

After all, he had all but defeated Sir Dunnock. A short while later, as they all ate together, the triplets all smiled upon hearing his tale, while Jirot furrowed her brows, considering his words for a moment. Huh? Her papo… No, she supposed. Her papo was strong.

"Nice," Jirot whispered, holding up her fist, the pair bumping fists, and then the girl saw the look within her mother's eyes.

"Papo? How you can beat up Sir Dunnock? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, you silly boy. I going to forgive you, just this once, okay? Just this once."

"Thank you." Jirot reached up to hide half her face, winking at her uncle, then returned back to her meal, ignoring her mother's gaze for a moment, peeking up to see her mother's eyes still glued upon her, and the girl focused entirely upon her meal, for certainly, this porridge was so delicious, yes, delicious indeed, this porridge, ah, yes, this porridge, so warm, so soft, so yummy. As her eyes peeked up once more, the girl noted her mother looking and she flushed lightly once more.

"Darling," Adam whispered.

"Yes?"

"Isn't it bad?" Vonda blinked.

"If my daughter is so cute, so well behaved, so wise, so strong, and funny, wouldn't the other children end up feeling poorly?" Adam asked, as though it was a serious matter, indeed.

"Since she is so well behaved, we do not have to worry," Vonda replied, meeting her husband's gaze, only to see how watery his eyes had become, the half elf refusing to laugh.

"If you are going to flirt so obviously, at least give me another greatchildren," the old Jarot grumbled, causing Adam to choke on his meal.

"Jirot! Your greatfather is trying to choke me!" Adam coughed.

"Babo!"

"I only wish for another greatchild to spoil," Jarot replied simply. The girl narrowed her eyes, holding the old man's gaze for a long moment, then her eyes darted to her father, who had just managed to catch his breath.

"I must respect my elders, daddy, what can I do?"

"Why are my jokes so bad when you joke so well, my lovely?" Jirot looked up towards the sky, noting the twinkling of the stars, though the Iyrmen certainly could not see such with their own keen eyes. She blinked.

"Daddy, sometimes, the world is as it is. The sun rises in the morning. It sets in the evening." The nearby Iyrmen all looked towards the girl, utterly bewildered at her philosophising so suddenly.

"Mummy, I worry for you, since daddy always forgets I am your daughter."

"Pray for me, my dear." The girl placed down her bowl, and immediately placed her hands upon her knees to begin praying, causing her greatfather to turn red, slipping into his Rage in order to stop himself from laughing. Her twin brother also placed his hands upon his knees, causing the half elf almost to speak up, but he would wait to see if the boy would finish his meal first. Vonda frowned slightly.