I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 417 Nightshade Court meeting (2)

Elder Haron scoffed, shoulders stiff with annoyance. "Lord, nowadays you contradict our decisions openly. Are we here only for show?"

Dante tilted his head slightly, a smirk stretching across his lips, the kind that made the shadows behind him ripple.

"If you’re upset," he said softly, "I am very happy to accept your resignation. I can hire younger, sharper, and far more optimistic demons in your place. Demons who can adapt without crying every five minutes."

Haron immediately shut his mouth and stared at the table.

Roman cleared his throat again, refusing to back off. "Let’s not divert from the main issue. Lord, if you like that human, fine. If she’s just for... desire, it’s acceptable. You have been absent from such matters your whole life. But for your mate—your wife—you should choose someone with proper status. A human is—"

He didn’t finish.

He couldn’t.

Because the entire hall dropped into a suffocating silence the moment Dante’s expression changed.

His crimson eyes darkened so deeply they looked almost black, and the shadows behind his throne rose like slow-moving smoke, sliding across the floor. Even the torches flickered, bowing away from him as if afraid to burn too brightly in his presence.

"I will stop you right there," Dante said, voice cold enough to crack bones. "You do not have the right to talk about who I marry. Or who I claim. Or who I love."

A tremor ran through the room.

"I do not recall inviting any of you into my personal life," he continued. "I do not recall asking you permission. And I certainly do not recall this council owning my decisions."

Roman swallowed hard but tried again, "Lord—status matters—"

"I said," Dante repeated slowly, "this is not your concern." His fingers tapped once against the armrest, a small sound but powerful enough to make a few elders flinch. "I am handling my territory flawlessly. My armies are loyal. My borders remain untouched. My schools, including the kindergarten, are thriving."

His gaze sharpened.

"I do not need a mate with status. I need peace. And I will choose whom I want."

The elders stared at him, shaken.

"You may comment on political decisions, military strategy, or council matters," Dante continued, his voice dropping lower, darker. "But my personal life is mine. If any of you speak about it again, even by mistake..." he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, "I will retire you. All of you. Immediately."

A chill ran across the hall.

"And," he added casually, "I already have younger candidates shortlisted. Young demons with actual brain cells. Young demons who won’t faint just because their leader likes a human."

A painful silence filled the chamber.

One elder coughed nervously. Another shifted from foot to foot. Roman’s face had gone pale.

Dante wasn’t finished.

"If retirement doesn’t appeal to you," he said, almost kindly, "I hear farming in the outer valley is relaxing. Lots of sunlight. Fresh air. Very simple work. Perfect for elders who claim they are here for show."

No one dared breathe.

No one dared blink.

No one dared speak again.

Dante sat back in his throne, perfectly calm now, his shadows quieting behind him like obedient beasts.

"And this," Dante said, his voice final and absolute, "is your last warning. Stay in your boundary."

For a moment the entire council fell into a heavy silence, the kind that presses against the ears. But old demons were stubborn, and stupidity often made them brave. Elder Morcan leaned forward, his long nail tapping the stone table as though he was trying to sound wise.

"Lord... lord, you misunderstand," he said quickly, eyes nervous but voice coated in fake calm. "We are not making decisions for your private life. You can have a human as your mate... if you like. No one is stopping you." A few elders nodded rapidly, trying to soothe what they thought was a temporary emotional outburst.

Morcan continued, "But you can also have another woman as your wife. A proper match. Someone with high lineage. And you can certainly have as many women as you want—this is tradition after all."

Dante’s eyes didn’t move. They didn’t blink. They were empty, a deep void of warning, yet none of them sensed it.

Elder Roman cleared his throat as if offering gentle advice instead of digging his own grave. "I think this human... she has evoked a temporary attachment in you. It happens. A delicate young woman, beautiful and enchanting—naturally it would trigger your instinct to protect. But you cannot make decisions in a rush. You should not declare her your only mate. Take time. Look around."

If Alina had heard that—delicate, beautiful, enchanting—she would have fainted on the spot in disbelief. She never imagined demons saw her like that, because she always considered herself average. But she wasn’t here, and Dante’s face remained unreadable.

The elders, fools that they were, mistook his silence for consideration. A spark of hope returned to their old eyes. They actually thought their words were sinking in.

Elder Haron even smiled, confident he was guiding his lord back to logic. "See? This is why the council exists, lord. To help you think rationally. To ensure you don’t—"

That was when Dante finally moved.

It started as a quiet exhale, soft enough that it barely reached the opposite end of the table. Not a sigh of agreement. Not a sigh of confusion. It was the kind of sound a predator makes right before it decides the hunt has become boring.

And then the shadows gathered behind him slowly at first, then like a silent wave darkening the walls. The temperature in the hall dipped, and every elder stiffened in their chair, as if invisible hands pressed cold fingers to their throats.

Dante stood.

The movement alone made several elders flinch.

He walked to the edge of the table, each step measured, calm, terrifyingly slow. His gaze drifted over them like he was looking at insects crawling on cracked stone.

"Temporary love?"

His voice was so soft it was almost tender.

Every elder froze.

"Many wives?"

He tilted his head slightly,as if tasting the words.

Roman swallowed, his throat bobbing like he wanted to disappear.

"Make decisions in a rush?"

No one answered. No one breathed.

Then Dante leaned forward, placing both hands on the table, and the shadows crawled up his arms like loyal beasts waiting for a command.

"You truly believe," he said, voice silky and lethal, "that your outdated traditions give you the right to tell me how many women I should keep in my bed?"

The elders’ lips trembled.

"You think my feelings for her are temporary?" He gave a humorless smile. "I don’t do temporary."

A few elders nearly slid out of their chairs.

"You think I will look around? For what? For who?" His eyes narrowed. "There is no one in this court, or any other realm, who can stand beside her."