Chapter 14: My Sermon

In the pristine and orderly study, stripped of any decorations except for the vast collection of books, Anselm, seated behind the desk, observed the anxious girl in front of him, doing his best to conceal the delight in his eyes.

He could sense Sitana's restlessness, feel her numerous impulses to turn back from the study, yet she persisted, and Anselm was well aware that she would not falter.

He had been preparing for this moment for far too long, smelting the confusion, helplessness, resentment, and rage of his youth into a singular power that belonged only to Anselm Hydra.

Now was the time to begin the first, and most memorable... training.

"Miss Sitana."

Anselm took a sip of the pale gold liquid in his glass,  speaking in a gentle tone, "Are you certain you wish to serve me once more?"

"..."

Sitana, with her head lowered, remained silent.

The young nobleman tugged at the corner of his mouth, masking his delight in a light-hearted tone, "Judging by your attitude, it appears you don't want to—"

"...Yes."

"Hmm? Did you say something just now, Miss Sitana?"

"I said... yes!"

Sitana's voice suddenly rose, her neck flushing a slight red from the surge of blood, and she looked up at Anselm with anger, exclaiming, "I do want to keep serving you, alright!"

"Take a look at yourself, Miss Sitana,"

Anselm leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands, "Is this the demeanor of someone who truly wishes to serve me?"

He said no more, merely smiling as he watched Sitana.

In the quiet study, only the girl's increasingly heavy breathing could be heard.

[Sita, Lord Hydra can show you a much bigger world]

[Father, mother... and the whole village will prosper!]

The happiness of her beloved family, the small village that held her cherished memories, and the future she envisioned.

—A future like that damned Empress's, where she could look down on the whole world, where none would dare to belittle her, a future where all would bestow upon her the utmost reverence, a future radiant with boundless glory.

Her sister's gentle and pleading words, painting a beautiful vision, firmly weighed down on Sitana's rebellious spirit.

Anselm relished in Sitana's struggle; everything happening now, in his eyes, was as inevitable as that damned fate.

He was merely... doing a tiny bit of pushing, just being a "little" more lenient and merciful to Sitana, that's all.

The intelligent Malena, hindered by her inherent feebleness, struggled to voice the true reason she suspected. But that was fine; it was exactly what Anselm desired.

Most importantly, she would be utterly resolved to ensure Sitana followed him.

As someone who also knew Sitana very well, Malena understood how to compel Sitana to submit—there were few vulnerabilities in the life of the Wolf Empress of the Azure Sky, and precisely because of this, she always appeared especially powerless when confronted with these weaknesses. It was also in that future that Sitana shed these vulnerabilities, and finally transformed into the invincible Wolf Empress of the Azure Sky.

Even the inexplicable resistance and hatred she harbored were barely enough to cause a stir at this moment.

"Lord Hydra..."

Her slightly messy snow-white short hair resembled the beautiful long fur on a wolf's neck; the girl clenched her teeth, swallowing the intense discomfort and hatred in her heart, almost grinding her teeth as she uttered the humble and pleading words.

It was the first time she had spoken to someone she detested so much in such a manner; even when she was expelled from Skyfrost Tower, she had never lowered her head like this.

"Please... allow me... to serve you."

She squeezed out the words Malena had taught her from between her teeth, the unwillingness and hatred causing her blood to surge again, reddening her tender ears beneath the fine hair.

"Hmm..."

Anselm, swirling his wine glass, pondered for a moment, "Barely acceptable."

"So, you, my lord—"

"But." Anselm interrupted her with a light laugh. With her head bowed, Sitana couldn't see the unrestrained, exuberant delight and joy on Anselm's face.

"Returning to my side means one thing, Miss Sitana."

He sipped his wine, letting out a comfortable sigh,

"—You need to, once again, receive... the punishment you deserve."

Sitana's body stiffened, she slightly raised her head to glance at Anselm, hesitating as she questioned, "Punishment?"

"Indeed, it's the punishment that was spared at last night's banquet because I allowed you to leave."

The young and handsome Hydra, propping his cheek with one hand, smiled at Sitana, "Since you intend to return, then I shall reclaim that mercy."

...So that's how it is.

Sitana let out an internal sigh of relief, she finally grasped why this man was willing to accept her return.

—So he's just a petty jerk, scheming to settle the score with her now!

"Fine, I accept it!" Sitana confidently straightened up, agreeing without any hesitation, "I accept your... your punishment."

It's just revenge, what could it really involve?

Sitana had never feared pain; as demonstrated by her rough handling of the assassins last night, even Malena had become accustomed to Sitana sustaining injuries, no longer surprised by the new bandages on Sitana's body.

In the Rancemalos family, the father, having suffered severe injuries in his youth, couldn't hunt or work, while his medical expenses were substantial; the mother, frail, struggled to make ends meet despite her best efforts; Malena, too, found her primary role was to negotiate with tax collectors as much as she could. In such conditions, they were still mercilessly exploited by the brutal tax rates of Scarletfrost.

Even so, Sitana had managed to support the family on her own, all the hardships, pains, and even despair she has endured had made Sitana indifferent to physical pain.

Just a punishment, and she could get this opportunity, to give her family, to give the village a new and beautiful future. The cost was simply minuscule.

"Then, take off your clothes."

"Okay, no prob—"

Sitana's action of lifting her clothes, coupled with her momentarily frozen mind, halted right there.

The girl stared straight at the young man only slightly older than herself, remaining still for a solid half minute.

"What did you just... say?" Her voice trembled slightly.

"Take off your outer garments." Anselm replied lazily.

At this moment, it seemed like something... awakened in Anselm's study.

That was the supreme beast that had traversed the icy, barren lands, vanquished the unyielding legions, conquered the towering mountains piercing the sky, and with its unparalleled might and ferocious cruelty, had struck terror into the hearts of the entire human realm.

Even Anselm also thought, for a moment... the Wolf Empress of the Azure Sky had truly crossed the vast expanse of time, shattered the shackles of fate, and unleashed her wrath into this small study.

But it was only for a moment.

Anselm's hand holding the wine glass didn't even tremble, having witnessed the ultimate despair and terror that could drive anyone to madness, to the point where their spirit would turn to nothingness, how could he be shaken by the so-called... "aura" of the protagonist?

And thus, the two stared at each other, until Sitana, silent and slightly trembling, slowly removed her clothes.

—If Hydra intended to do that 'thing', then she would instantly take down this sicko, screw the opportunity, screw the future, she wanted this bastard dead right now!

That inexplicable, ever-present nameless anger gained the upper hand at this moment; if it weren't for Anselm having previously restrained Sitana with her last shred of sanity, the enraged young wolf would not be undressing now, but ripping open Anselm's throat.

The plain and unadorned outfit was cast aside by the girl onto the ground. Her sacred skin, which shone like lustrous gem in the dim light, appeared akin to a dream from another realm.

Her shoulders were slender, with the rounded tips blushing a delicate pink, and the seemingly tender and soft delectable abdomen featured two distinct indentations formed by the rectus abdominis and external oblique muscles, extending towards the pelvis, causing a slight bulge in the lower abdomen, showcasing the fitness and allure that was uncharacteristic for her age.

Her thighs, not slender but full of strength, yet without a hint of excess fat, displayed beautiful muscle lines when she stood. Her calves, in contrast, appeared exceptionally long, with a proportion that was also perfectly flawless. As she fidgeted with her steps, her smooth, snow-white feet, free of any protruding veins, one of which was still bandaged, only enhanced her beauty with a distinctive charm.

On the girl's delicate body, only a few layers of intact fabric were left.

"You seem very reluctant, Miss Sitana."

Anselm propped his cheek with one hand, smiling at her.

Sitana's dark red eyes appeared even more crimson due to the bloodshot, and she stared intently at Anselm, not uttering a single word.

[No matter what trials he puts you through next, you must not disappoint him]

The atmosphere once again descended into a stalemate; Sitana was waiting for an opportunity, an opportunity to kill Anselm, while Anselm... well, he was happily admiring Sitana's body, with no other thoughts.

Until an abrupt ringing broke this heavy stalemate.

Anselm nonchalantly picked up the square magic crystal on the desk, tapped it once, and then held it to his ear.

"... Mm, good, I understand, haha, I'll keep that in mind."

Then, without warning, he tossed the magic crystal towards Sitana.

The girl instinctively reached out to catch it, only to realize her body had been thoroughly seen through again, and before she could shoot a murderous glare at Anselm, a voice she was extremely familiar with emanated from the magic crystal.

"Sita, Sita, is that you?"

—It was her mother.

"Mom... Mom?" Sitana spoke in disbelief into the magic crystal, "How could you—"

Before the girl could complete her sentence, she was interrupted by the voice from the magic crystal, brimming with surprise and on the verge of tears:

"This morning, a noble suddenly arrived at our home with a doctor... they cured your father's illness, and they also said they would exempt our village from taxes for five years! Sita, they said you've become an extraordinary person, that you're working for a kind and generous great man, that Lord Hydra who stands up for us! Is it true? Are you really working for him?"

"I..."

Hearing her mother's voice on the verge of tears, Sitana opened her mouth, looked at the scoundrel behind the desk who was propping his cheek and and observing her, and after a brief pause... she let her arm, which had been covering her body, drop.

"Yes, mom, I'm working for him," the girl replied softly, striving to keep her voice natural and composed.

"Is dad... really healed?"

"Of course, of course! Ur! Come here quickly, talk to Sita!"

A few seconds later, Sitana heard a deep, hoarse, trembling voice coming from the magic crystal.

"Sita, I... my injuries have healed, you won't have to hunt alone anymore, I—"

"What are you saying, dad!"

Sitana interrupted her father's words: "I'm a big shot now! I don't need you to hunt anymore, not at all!"

"... Yes, yes, I know... I've always believed in you, my good girl."

The father, who had never shed tears in front of her, now sounded choked up: "I always knew... I always knew you would become a remarkable person."

"Hehe, of course—ahh!"

"... Sita? What's wrong?"

"..." Sitana gripped the magic crystal tightly, her gaze fixed on the snake-like, pitch-black and bizarrely sinister object that was slowly attaching itself to her body.

It resembled a whip, but with segments arranged in sequence, blade-like sides akin to snake scales, and a complex mechanical structure. It was evident to be more than just a whip.

And the one holding this "whip blade"…

Who else could it be but Anselm?

The whip blade, like a living creature, coiled around one of Sitana's legs, slowly climbing upwards, wrapping around her waist and abdomen, squeezing into the gap between those two soft mounds, gently wriggling.

"I... I'm fine, dad, I'm fine."

Under the chilling touch and the faint sting of the blade nearly slicing into her skin, Sitana clenched her palm until it bled, replying in a low voice.

"Good... good, Sita, you must repay Lord Hydra well, you must serve him with all your heart, you must not be willful anymore, I know you can do it!"

Serve... him?

Why him?

Wasn't it her own efforts that earned her this respect and reward? Wasn't it her own strength that gained all these gifts, restored her father's health, and made the village even better?

The voice from the magic crystal ceased, and the call came to an end.

And at this moment, Anselm's voice also slowly emerged.

The tip of the whip blade gently caressed Sitana's chin, but did not slice open her skin, as if teasing a pet.

"Dear Miss Sitana."

The devil from the abyss began his sermon:

"Do you know... what made you a 'big shot'?"

 

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