I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!
Chapter 96 Nightshade Court

Chapter 96: Chapter 96 Nightshade Court

Lucien began to play — soft, uneven notes at first, like he was remembering how it went. His expression was focused, eyebrows furrowed just slightly. The tune wasn’t perfect, but it was sweet, and the way he took it seriously made Alina feel like she was witnessing something very special.

In that quiet playroom, surrounded by shadows and toys, the music felt like a lullaby meant just for her.

And Lucien... with his sleepy eyes, tiny horns, and his stubborn, serious voice...

Was the most beautiful thing she had seen all day.

After a few minutes of soft piano playing, Lucien’s hands began to slow.

His little fingers slipped on the keys once... then again.

He blinked, long and slow, before rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. His shoulders drooped slightly, and he leaned forward with a tiny sigh.

Alina smiled quietly beside him.

The music had faded, replaced by his sleepy breath.

"Oh dear..." she whispered, brushing his hair gently. "That’s enough concert for today, sweetheart. Come on, take a small nap."

Lucien looked up at her, hesitating.

"I’m not tired," he mumbled — though his voice was soft, slurred, and clearly betraying his lie.

Alina didn’t argue.

Instead, she stood and bent down toward him with open arms.

Lucien flushed a little as she picked him up — not in front of his classmates, not in the classroom, but here, quietly, in his own home. Even so, he looked slightly embarrassed. He glanced away, as if hoping she wouldn’t notice the way his cheeks had turned pink.

But he didn’t resist.

He rested his head against her shoulder, his little arms curling around her neck with the tiniest sigh.

Alina walked slowly back toward his bedroom, holding him close.

When they reached the bed, she gently laid him down, his head resting on the soft pillow.

Lucien looked up at her, dazed and half-asleep.

Alina smiled and tucked the blanket up to his chin, smoothing it out with care.

Then, before stepping away, she picked up Knight and Raven and gently placed it beside him.

Lucien blinked at her again, sleep heavy in his eyes.

She reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

"Sleep well, little one," she murmured, brushing back a stray curl.

Lucien didn’t answer.

But as his eyes finally fluttered closed, his small hand reached out under the blanket and gently held her sleeve, as if asking her to stay just a little longer.

And she did.

She sat beside the bed, her hand resting near his, watching over him in that silent room... until his breathing slowed, and sleep wrapped around him like the softest lullaby.

***

On the other side...

Deep inside the council chamber of Nightshade Court, a long stone table stretched through the middle of the room. The walls were dark and windowless, flickering lanterns casting tall shadows across the old carved stone.

Twelve high-ranking demons sat around the table — their horns tall, their robes heavy, their expressions grim.

The air smelled faintly of ash and steel.

"They’re trying very hard to break through the barrier," an older demon muttered, his long fingers tapping the table. "It looks like they’re growing desperate. Maybe they’re running out of energy..."

His name was Elder Hellnorth — one of the wisest war strategists in the demon race.

"They focused their energy on Class D," he added slowly. "The youngest ones. They’re targeting the babies now."

Dante sat at the far end of the table, his hands folded tightly. His sharp jaw was clenched, his eyes colder than ice.

"Yes," he said quietly. "They tried to break into the youngest classroom. My shield almost cracked this morning."

A heavy silence fell.

And then...

"I think," another demon spoke, his voice smooth and heartless, "we should give in a little."

Heads turned.

Elder Hellthorn – known for his ruthless nature – sat back casually in his chair.

"Maybe a few... sacrifices from the common families. Just enough to keep the Earth Worms satisfied," he said with a slight shrug. "Better than risking them breaking in and taking more."

Dante’s chair scraped loudly as he stood.

His voice thundered across the table.

"What the hell did you just say?"

Hellthorn blinked, unfazed. "I’m saying what everyone is thinking. We’ve lost more then seventy children in the last wave. You think your little barrier will stop them forever?"

"You want to offer children?" Dante growled, eyes glowing faintly under the low light. "Are you even listening to yourself?"

"It’s logical," Hellthorn said calmly. "If we lose a few, we save many."

"We’re not talking about livestock," Dante snapped. "We’re talking about babies. Little ones who don’t even understand what death means yet."

The table tensed. No one dared interrupt.

"They came for Lucien’s class today," Dante said sharply. "If that shield had cracked even one second more—" he stopped himself, breathing hard. "I won’t allow it. I’ll burn every last Earth Worm myself if I have to. But no child is being offered up while I’m still breathing."

"Then what do you suggest?" Hellthorn sneered. "Pray to the heavens?"

"We strengthen the barrier," Dante replied coldly. "We call in the witches, the moonweavers, anyone who still holds an active core. We make it stronger."

"And if that fails?" Hellnorth asked, voice quiet.

Dante looked at him directly. "Then we fight. Tooth and nail. Every inch."

Another demon finally spoke. "The other races won’t support us if they know how weak our flank is."

"Then lie," Dante said without hesitation. "Tell them we’re rebuilding it with fire enchantments. Just buy time. I’ll handle everything."

Hellthorn scoffed. "Spoken like a desperate father."

"Damn right I am," Dante snapped. "And you’d be wise to remember what I did the last time the worms came."

The room fell silent.

"I want every elder here to submit their family shield codes by midnight," Dante said. "We’re syncing the grid tomorrow morning. If even one of you tries to act clever..." he narrowed his eyes, "I will burn your estate first."

No one argued.

Hellthorn leaned back, quiet now.

Hellnorth nodded slowly. "Understood. I’ll call the witches by dawn."

Dante sat down again, his voice quieter now but still sharp. "I won’t lose another child to those monsters."

Not while I’m alive, he thought.

Not ever again.