Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 73

Chapter 73: The Art of Psychological Warfare
I strode forward with the undeniable confidence of someone who had just found new entertainment.

Mara and Elira, looking appropriately concerned, followed at a cautious distance.

The cloaked figures the ones who had been so intent on watching me from the shadows immediately tensed. One of them let out a very unprofessional squeak and tried to subtly move behind the others. Another made a choking sound, as if debating whether to run for their lives or pretend they were never here in the first place.

Too late , I smirked, letting my aura radiate just enough menace to make them sweat.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” I clasped my hands behind my back, tilting my head slightly. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

One of them visibly twitched. Another made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a plea for mercy.

I could practically see them debating their life choices in real-time.

“Oh, gods,” Mara muttered behind me. “She’s enjoying this.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Elira added.

The cloaked figures stiffened further, exchanging frantic glances, whispering to each other in urgent, panicked tones.

Unfortunately for them, I was already bored of their incompetence.

I sighed. “You know, it’s rude to spy on people. Especially on me.”

One of them swallowed hard. Another took half a step back, only to freeze when they realized the mistake they just made.

I smiled wider. “So. Since you seem so terribly interested in me, why don’t we have a little chat?”

They didn’t move , they didn’t breathe , and did nothing except sweat profusely under their ridiculous cloaks.

Ugh. Pathetic.

[ This is embarrassing to watch. ]

“I know, right?” I whispered back.

[ Seriously, what kind of half-baked villains are these? No charisma, no presence, no theatrics. Zero out of ten. Would not recommend. ]

I placed a hand over my heart, feigning disappointment. “And here I thought you might be interesting. But look at you.” I let my gaze trail over them lazily. “Terrified. Shaking in your boots. What a waste.”

One of them visibly trembled , another actually whimpered.

I sighed, turning slightly. “Mara?”

Mara, ever eager for violence, cracked her knuckles. “Yes, My Lady?”

I smirked.

“Fetch Smaug.”

Silence.

“Wait, wait, WAIT—”

Too late , Mara grinned and whistled sharply a distant roar echoed through the castle grounds.

The cloaked figures immediately panicked.

One of them actually started praying. Another looked ready to just drop dead on the spot.

I counted exactly three seconds before my beloved tiny-yet-horrifying dragon came barreling out of nowhere, crashing onto the ground beside me with a dramatic flourish of wings and snapping fangs.

“WHO DARES SUMMON ME?” Smaug bellowed, his voice echoing like a miniature apocalypse.

I, ever graceful, patted his scaly head.

“Hey, buddy.”

Smaug blinked. “Oh. It’s just you.”

One of the cloaked figures actually collapsed.

Another immediately tried to flee, only to trip over their own robe and go down like a sack of bricks.

I arched a brow. “Wow. That’s embarrassing.”

Smaug huffed. “Are these fools bothering you? Shall I set them on fire?”

Mara perked up. “Ooh. Fire.”

Elira groaned. “No fire.”

Smaug pouted ,meanwhile, the cloaked figures were actively trying to will themselves out of existence.

I tilted my head. “Now, now. Let’s not be hasty.”

I walked closer, placing one boot on the fallen one’s cloak, pinning them to the ground as they let out a muffled scream.

“Here’s a fun idea,” I mused. “Since you’re all so eager to lurk in the shadows and follow me around…”

The figures froze.

Mara grinned. “Oh no.”

Elira sighed. “Oh no.”

Smaug perked up. “Oh, I LIKE where this is going.”

I smiled.

“You’re going to be my horses for the day.”

Silence.

[ …I beg your pardon. ]

The cloaked figures who had probably prepared for death, interrogation, or worse stared at me in sheer disbelief.

“…What?” One of them croaked.

I clapped my hands together. “That’s right. You will now carry me around the castle.”

Mara choked on air , Elira buried her face in her hands , Smaug wheeze-laughed.

[ I take back everything I said. You are truly my favorite. ]

The cloaked figures looked at each other, horrified , one of them finally found their voice. “W-We’d rather die!”

I smirked. “Oh?”

Mara and Elira cracked their knuckles in perfect sync.

Smaug snorted, letting out a small plume of smoke.

The cloaked figure immediately regretted speaking.

“…I mean we’d rather not die?”

I grinned. “Good choice.”

With absolute, soul-crushing defeat, the cloaked figures hesitantly dropped to all fours.

One of them let out a heartbroken sob.

Another whispered, “This is the worst day of my life.”

Mara giggled. “Oh, I am living for this.”

Smaug stretched lazily. “This is the best entertainment I’ve had all week.”

Elira, to her credit, simply sighed. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

I climbed onto my new ‘steed’ with all the grace of a queen.

Regal. Unbothered. Victorious.

“Giddy-up.”

And with that, I set off on my glorious ride, parading my defeated enemies through the castle like a true tyrant in the making.

I settled myself elegantly atop my newly acquired “steed,” shifting slightly to get comfortable as the cloaked figure beneath me made a sound of pure despair.

Glorious.

The second “horse” attempted to crawl away, but Mara, ever the enforcer of my whims, cracked her knuckles meaningfully.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Elira, resigned to the absurdity, simply muttered, “I’m going to pretend this isn’t happening.”

Smaug, who had settled beside me like a proud war mount, let out an amused rumble. “This is far more entertaining than setting them on fire.”

I nodded regally. “I’m glad you approve.”

With the supreme confidence of a ruler on a royal procession, I flicked my wrist dismissively.

“Alright, peasants. Walk.”

The cloaked figures hesitated.

Mara leaned in ever so slightly.

“Do you need… encouragement?” she asked sweetly.

Immediate compliance.

My “horses” began crawling forward with all the enthusiasm of prisoners marching to their execution.

The one carrying me let out a deep, defeated sigh. “This is a violation of all our training.”

“Correction,” I said, gracefully adjusting my seating. “This is the best use of your training.”

The other one groaned in absolute humiliation.

“I want to die.”

“You should’ve thought of that before following me,” I reminded him.

Elira pinched the bridge of her nose. “You are unbelievable.”

“I prefer ‘visionary.'”

Smaug chuckled darkly. “I prefer ‘hilarious.'”

At that precise moment, a chorus of clicking sounds filled the air.

I blinked.

Slowly, ominously, I turned my head only to see my parents and grandparents standing nearby.

Phones ,cameras , magical recording devices all aimed at me.

My beautiful royal family unshaken warlords, legendary rulers, figures of absolute terror stood gleefully snapping pictures like overly enthusiastic parents at a child’s first school performance.

Verania had her arms crossed, grinning ear to ear. “Look at our baby. She’s so powerful.”

Sylvithra sighed dreamily. “She’s just like us.”

Saelira smirked. “It’s a proud moment for the empire.”

Eryndor, ever composed, simply nodded in solemn approval. “A true leader.”

Grand Consort Ilythia tilted her head slightly. “Should we frame these?”

Grand Strategist Veylen, who was usually the most restrained, simply stated, “They belong in the family archives.”

The cloaked figures beneath me let out matching groans.

“This is the worst day of my life,” one of them whispered.

Smaug was practically wheezing. “Oh, this is fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.”

I exhaled slowly.

[ Do you regret this yet? ]

I narrowed my eyes.

“…No.”

[ You are the most chaotic protagonist I have ever seen. ]

“Thank you.”

Meanwhile, my parents were taking this as a personal victory.

Verania snapped a photo. “I’m sending this to the generals.”

Sylvithra chuckled. “Oh, do send one to the Imperial Court. Let them see what true nobility looks like.”

One of my “steeds” let out an audible sob.

Smaug, looking immensely entertained, finally nudged my leg with his snout. “Now what, oh great and terrifying one?”

I tapped my chin thoughtfully.

“You know what…” I mused.

Mara leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

I grinned down at my suffering minions.

“How fast can you run while carrying me?”

The cloaked figures froze.

The atmosphere changed immediately.

Mara gasped. “A race?”

Smaug’s tail whipped excitedly. “Oh, I LOVE this idea.”

Elira sighed. “I hate this idea.”

Verania, delighted, clapped her hands together. “Excellent thinking, dear!”

Sylvithra smirked. “True strategy.”

I tilted my head expectantly. “Well? Shall we begin?”

One of my “horses” whimpered. “Please… just kill me.”

Smaug grinned. “Oh no. You run.”

And with that the first-ever Tyrant Horse Race commenced.