I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 450 Young shadow group

Meanwhile, the Nightshade elders gathered in the council hall. Cold blue flames flickered in iron sconces along the walls, casting harsh light across the long obsidian table where the elders sat, their figures rigid, their expressions tight with dissatisfaction.

Elder Roman was the first to break the tense silence. His fingers drummed sharply against the stone surface, the sound echoing far louder than it should have in the vast room. His face twisted in open displeasure, the lines around his mouth deepening as he leaned forward.

"This is getting out of hand," he said, his voice harsh and bitter. "The Lord of Nightshade is no longer listening. A human teacher, living under his roof, walking freely at his side like a consort. Do you understand what this looks like?"

Across from him, Elder Haron’s lips curled into an ugly sneer. His sharp, calculating eyes glinted in the dim light as he folded his arms. "He has always been difficult," Haron replied coldly. "But this is different. He is not merely defying us. He is ignoring us. That human has softened him. Distracted him."

Roman scoffed. "Softened?" he repeated, the word sounding like an insult. "She has blinded him. He used to hear our counsel, even if he disagreed. Now he does not even pretend." His jaw tightened. "He threatened retirement. Farming," he spat, as if the idea itself were degrading. "Do you know how humiliating that was?"

A low murmur rippled through the other elders, unease thickening the air. Haron leaned back slowly, his gaze drifting toward the darkened throne at the head of the table, conspicuously empty.

"Threats are only words," he said calmly. "But emotions... those can be used."

Roman’s eyes narrowed. "Speak clearly."

Haron’s smile was thin and unpleasant. "Lord Dante has always been strongest when he had nothing to lose. No family. No attachments. That human changes the equation." He tapped the table once, thoughtfully. "If he believes she is in danger, or if he is forced to choose between her and his duty..."

Roman’s expression shifted, something greedy and satisfied flickering beneath his anger. "He will hesitate," he finished.

"Yes," Haron agreed softly. "And hesitation is weakness."

Roman straightened, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "Then we remind him what he is. What he rules. The laws of Nightshade were not built for sentiment." His gaze hardened. "If he refuses to listen willingly, we will make him listen."

Haron nodded once, slowly, as if sealing an unspoken pact. "Carefully," he warned. "Too much pressure, and he will destroy everything in his path. We must not confront him directly." His eyes gleamed. "We work in shadows. As Nightshade always has."

The blue flames flickered violently for a moment, as if responding to their intentions. Around the table, the elders fell into grim silence, each lost in their own calculations. One thing was certain now. Dante’s defiance had awakened something dangerous within the council.

Clink.

Clink.

The sharp, metallic sound cut cleanly through the chamber, echoing against the obsidian walls like a deliberate interruption.

Every elder stiffened.

The massive doors of the council hall creaked open, blue firelight spilling across the floor, and their eyes widened.

A young shadow demon stepped inside as if he owned the space.

He was tall, easily six feet, his posture relaxed yet confident. Midnight-dark hair fell neatly across his forehead, framing a face that was almost unfairly handsome, his jawline sharp and angular. His charcoal eyes held quiet intelligence, alert and observant, and his lips, softly tinted with a natural pink hue, curved in polite composure. His horns arched back in elegant curves, refined rather than savage.

And in his hands—

Farming tools.

A hoe rested over one shoulder. A bundle of soil rakes clinked lightly as he moved.

"Sorry to disturb you," the young demon said calmly, his voice smooth and respectful, "but I have something to place here."

The elders stared.

Roman’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets.

"What is this nonsense?" Roman snapped, rising halfway from his seat. "Who are you?"

The young demon paused, glancing down at the tools as if suddenly remembering them. "Ah. Right." He straightened slightly. "I’m a new recruit from the young shadow group Lord Dante recently formed. He has been personally training us."

Murmurs rippled through the chamber like a crack in glass.

Roman’s lips thinned. "Then why are you bringing farming tools into the council hall?"

"Oh, these?" the youth lifted the hoe casually. "Temporary storage. Lord Dante said unused chambers should serve a purpose. He mentioned something about preparing for retirement options." He smiled, innocent and bright.

Roman choked.

Hellnorth stiffened.

"I’ll take my leave," the youth added politely, turning slightly toward the door. "I will place them elsewhere, since this hall isn’t empty."

"Wait," Haron said sharply. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

The young demon stopped and turned back, head tilting in mild curiosity. "Yes, Grandfather Haron?"

Silence.

Absolute, devastating silence.

Haron’s expression cracked, just for a moment, but it was enough. "What did you just call me?"

"Grandfather," the youth repeated calmly. "Lord Dante instructed us to address elders respectfully. He said elders are the roots of Nightshade, and roots should be honored." He smiled, utterly sincere. "Grandfathers sounded appropriate."

Roman’s jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might shatter.

Several elders exchanged uneasy glances.

Roman cleared his throat. "What exactly," he asked slowly, "has Lord Dante been teaching you?"

The young demon’s posture straightened instantly, pride flickering through his eyes. "War strategy," he began easily. "Negotiation without bloodshed. Court etiquette. Ancient laws. Succession principles." He paused, then added cheerfully, "And how to recognize outdated leadership patterns."

The chamber went cold.

Elder Hellnorth swallowed. "Outdated leadership?"

"Yes," the youth nodded. "Lord Dante says progress requires adaptability. He also taught us about historical failures." His gaze flicked briefly toward Roman. "Like Hellthorn."

A sharp inhale rippled through the elders.

Roman slammed his palm against the armrest. "Watch your tongue, boy!"

The young demon blinked, genuinely surprised. "Oh. Did I speak out of turn?" He bowed slightly. "My apologies. I was taught transparency is valued in modern governance."

Haron’s fingers curled slowly. "And these tools?" he asked darkly.

The youth glanced at them again. "For those who prefer simpler lives. Lord Dante believes peace farming suits elders who feel overwhelmed by change."

Roman’s face drained of color.

The youth smiled once more, bright and respectful. "If there is nothing else, Grandfathers, I will be going. Lord Dante expects us back for evening drills."

"Drills?" Hellnorth echoed.

"Yes," he replied. "Leadership replacement simulations."

That did it.

Fear crept visibly into the room, uninvited and undeniable.

The young demon turned, boots clicking softly against the stone as he walked back toward the door, farming tools clinking lightly with each step.

At the threshold, he paused and looked back over his shoulder.

"Oh, and one more thing," he added pleasantly. "Lord Dante said to remind you all... retirement can be peaceful. Resistance usually isn’t."

Then he was gone.

The doors closed with a heavy thud.

No one spoke.

Roman’s smirk was gone.

Haron’s confidence fractured.

The elders stared at the closed doors, hearts pounding.