In the end, he had a hell of a time.
All eight goat girls, not a single one left out.
Including the largest, most mature one who enjoyed Al's rough treatment; under the cooperation of her companions and Al's lead, she gained a perfect experience.
Her mouth was wide open, her pink tongue hanging out, revealing an ahegao face.
Midway through, Claudia even dragged Ann in to join.
Al, figuring eight or ten were much the same and since they were already here, pushed the Paladin to the ground and pinned her.
He violently slammed his spear into the mature, beautiful blonde Paladin's plump body.
Afterward, he tried a round of bondage-training play with the swordswoman.
A night of absolute debauchery.
Eventually, Al was startled awake from a nightmare.
Al dreamed of a cow-girl with donkey ears [Misha] grabbing his ankles and pulling him outward.
He resisted with all his might, but it was useless. The donkey-eared rabbit kept shouting in his ear:
"You can't rest yet! Father!"
"You can't rest yet! Father!"
Thus, Al woke up in a fright.
Upon waking, he received word from the maids that the Head of Scions, Al's eldest daughter Misha Theseus Al, had been waiting in the front hall for him to wake for a long time.
In his panic, Al instinctively wanted to bolt out the door, but after two steps, he broke free from the lingering effects of the nightmare.
Once fully awake, he didn't even let the maids help; he directly manipulated the power of the Winds of Magic to clean himself from head to toe.
Changing into the clean clothes the maids had prepared, he hurried to the front hall.
Misha, Hera, Barbatos. Aside from Kael'thas, who was guarding the Sacred Grove front just in case, Al's three most outstanding and capable scions were all present.
One might wonder why a thrill-seeker like the third child, Barbatos, would be among the top four scions and a capable lieutenant Al placed high hopes in...
Her appearance and the personality Al liked were one reason.
But mainly, in terms of comprehensive strength, Barbatos truly deserved the rank.
If she truly adopted a serious, all-out mindset, she might be the only one among the scions currently with a hope of challenging the eldest daughter, Misha.
But... whatever.
Let the thrill-seeker be a thrill-seeker. It wasn't yet the desperate time where every single person under Al had to be used as a pawn to be thrown into the battlefield to die fighting.
"Fa~ther!"
The moment they met, Barbatos couldn't wait to pounce and cling to the boy's arm.
Al dragged the "attachment" along, though it wasn't a struggle. The third daughter's chest was flat—not exactly an airport, but the negligible curves were no different from a typical male.
Zero trace of the racial advantage of a goat girl.
Al had seen the source of Barbatos's other half of blood—a big, so big Goat Mom—and Barbatos clearly hadn't inherited a single bit of that.
"Mm-hmm?" Al ruffled Barbatos's messy hair, his fingertips tapping on that pair of small, elegant horns.
"I have a very, very excellent proposal!"
"If we follow my plan, this Triumph Ceremony will be absolutely perfect!" Barbatos shouted, while simultaneously casting a glance at the silently standing Misha.
As expected, the thing he worried about happened.
Misha slowly shook her head and said, "If we follow your plan, my brother, Father's Triumph Ceremony will turn into an unrestrained festival of debauchery."
"Our purpose is to manifest Father's power and shower the glory of this brilliant victory upon every newly submitted Estalian. We must prove to them: only the faith of the Four Mothers, only the tribe, and only Father's rule and protection can grant them salvation in this drifting, suffering mortal world..." The cow-girl murmured, her gaze deep and vacant as if looking into the far distance.
Al: "..."
Barbatos: "..."
Hera: "Woof! I think Big Sister is right!"
The atmosphere suddenly became intensely loyal.
Misha, coming back to her senses, seemed embarrassed by the side of herself she had just exposed. She hurriedly lowered her head and whispered:
"Our sup-supplies are not particularly abundant. If we implement that plan, it will be hard to bear any major risks later... Last time we only had to reduce the average quota, causing some to go hungry; if the Greenskins launch a blind attack and we can't quickly restore production, refugees might actually starve to death."
Al's expression turned solemn at those words.
Dying in battle, losing soldiers and territory, being slaughtered by a savage enemy... if these happened under Al's rule, he would feel grief and anger, and he would vow revenge.
But if, during non-wartime, there were corpses of the starved on the roads because he wanted to satisfy a personal ego of showing off achievements and a hedonistic mindset, then he might as well stop thinking about his mother, the United Earth Government. His motherland had no such traitorous son.
He'd better just commit to hugging the Four Mothers' legs, fulfilling his duties as a Chaos Vanguard and Everchosen, and join the happy family of Old World rulers.
Thus, Al gave his third daughter a hard knock on the head. She lowered her head in pain but didn't dare dodge.
"We cannot take such a risk."
He agreed with Misha's view.
"Although the Greenskin vanguard is annihilated and their main force is far away at Magus—taking at least half a month to move troops, giving us at least a month of rest—and Lileath's mist has already begun to manifest. If it continues at this rate, the entire Piña will be covered in half a month, making us fearless against a Greenskin attack—BUT!"
"Even if there is a 99.9% certainty, if the risk is one we cannot bear and can be avoided through patience, we should do exactly that!"
"Especially since you are the master of a branch. Our decisions, on the battlefield, concern the victory or defeat of a legion; in peace, they may concern the survival of tens of thousands of civilians."
Barbatos lowered her head, the hand clinging to her Little Father also dropping down in disappointment, only lightly resting on the back of Al's palm like a kitten or puppy pawing at its master's sleeve.
Al, getting into his lecturing mood, continued: "You are the most beloved by the masses among all the scions. When you think of a grand celebration, you must be thinking of enjoying it and being happy together with your fellow brothers and subjects in the tribe. Here, your original intention is good."
"But have you considered what would happen if an accident occurs and production can't be restored? We would instantly fall into a state even more difficult than our most trying times. At that moment, you are my scion, you are a master of a legion, you are the object of everyone's love—you won't go hungry, but what about them? Those who support you, who love you, who banqueted with you, fought with you, and played with you... what happens to them?"
Barbatos kept her head down, crystal tears welling in her eyes, her lips trembling and her throat letting out two choked sobs.
Al sighed, pressing his hand on his daughter's head.
"You like pleasure, and you like everyone being happy together. I am the same. You love them, and they revere you, so you must shoulder this responsibility. Don't learn from your Father, spending every day..."
"In short, Barbatos, my daughter, think more. Do you understand? Here, you must think more." Al tapped his own forehead with his finger, then gently tapped the forehead of his daughter, who was nodding through her tears.
"Your decisions. Your actions."
Beside them, Misha's pupils constricted slightly. For a moment, it was as if she had returned to the past, to her days as a calf. That figure who wasn't particularly tall, but would forever remain as radiant as the sun and as majestic as a titan in the hearts of his scions, was holding her, imparting knowledge to each young scion.
Al didn't know that his temporary talkativeness—and his attempt to self-reflect on his own behavior by educating his child—had made his eldest daughter recall one of his few high-light moments as a father.
He ruffled the third child's head with one hand. The "Husky"... the wolf-girl also squeezed in, trying to share her Little Father's "favor," while Al looked over the documents the eldest daughter presented. Another busy day of office work surrounded by affairs.
The process for the Triumph Ceremony was mostly finalized, awaiting the return of the second child, Kael'thas, with the rotation troops.
I should be able to relax for a few days then, right?
Al thought to himself. Joy for the people—this matter of joy for the people means everyone is happy!
I'm just practicing normal work-life balance, okay!