"Lord Anselm, might there be some misunderstanding between us? Has something occurred recently that has displeased you?"
The Scarletfrost Earl, under the gaze of those mesmerizing sea-blue eyes more enchanting than gemstones, forced a smile as he asked.
"Misunderstanding? Oh no, no... there's no such thing. Haven't we been getting along splendidly?"
Anselm swirled his wine glass, his face brimming with mirth, "I love the gold you sent, I love the magic crystals, and those two sisters, I love them too. Look, and this—"
He waved the stack of documents in his hand: "Proof of our friendship."
"Ah... without evidence, it would indeed be quite problematic to arbitrarily execute an Earl."
The young nobleman first lamented this, then spoke to the Scarletfrost Earl with utmost seriousness:
"Thank you for saving me a great deal of precious time. I will cherish this spirit of dedication that shines brighter than gold, um... seven days, no, seven days is too long, three days."
"I will ensure that nothing desecrates your corpse during the three days you are being dried out."
Anselm continued to knead the beauty beside him as he lazily instructed, "Proceed, Savile."
Behind him, an elderly man in a tailcoat nodded slightly, and as soon as he raised his hand, the Scarletfrost Earl cried out in terror:
"Wait! I... I understand what you desire! You believe that mere information is insufficient, right? Manpower... yes, manpower! The Viscount of Lundbeck on the smuggling routes, the Viscount of Howlingwinds on the raiding routes, and... whoever else! I can eliminate them! No, you can execute them and install individuals you deem suitable! In this manner, you can guarantee control over all routes!"
"Oh! You're even recommending more capable individuals, you truly have my interests at heart, Earl!"
Anselm couldn't help but applaud the Scarletfrost Earl's spirit of dedication: "You are indeed a true friend to me! Unfortunately, Hydra has never had friends, so..."
He made a gesture of mourning for the Scarletfrost Earl with great regret: "For our friendship to be eternally preserved in such a beautiful moment, please meet your end."
"Savile—"
"WAIT!"
"Still waiting?" Anselm looked somewhat displeased at the towering man who suddenly stood up, "We shouldn't squander our friendship like this, Earl!"
"Hydra... Your Excellency."
The Scarletfrost Earl struggled to suppress his terror, staring intently at Anselm, and said word by word: "Do you intend to kill me? Right here, right now? Just to kill me, you're willing to tear apart the disguise you've maintained for six whole years?"
He expelled his fear from his lungs, his mind racing at an unprecedented speed: "I cannot fathom myself being worth such a drastic action from you. If you genuinely seek to pass judgment upon me, then at the very least, transport me to the capital! You possess no authority to execute me here and now!"
That's right... that's right, if it were that Flamel, he would have been turned into alchemy potions along with his entire family by now, but he's facing Anselm... this monster, he's indeed been pretending! But so what, he's been pretending for so long, it can't just be for fun, there must be a deeper purpose. If he can drag this to the capital, perhaps the Grand Duke of Greytower—
"You're thinking, 'Perhaps the Grand Duke of Greytower can give me a chance at survival'—aren't you, Earl?"
Anselm closed one eye and observed the Scarletfrost Earl's face through the wine glass and its contents with the other eye.
Distorted, murky, grotesque, repulsive.
"It's just..." the young and handsome nobleman shrugged, "we had agreed on a 70-30 split, with him receiving seventy and I, thirty."
"..." The Scarletfrost Earl's mouth gaped open, and the fear and despair he had been suppressing instantly crushed his cervical spine and backbone.
Anselm watched the trembling Scarletfrost Earl, and his body couldn't help but start shaking as well.
After two seconds, he finally couldn't hold back, and his cheerful and clear laughter echoed in the banquet hall.
"Hahaha... no, Earl, you... haha... you actually believed that? Did you truly think I would share the spoils with him?"
Laughing heartily, Anselm waved the documents in his hand: "Then what use do I have for these? It appears your faith in the Grand Duke of Greytower is not as strong as you thought."
Anselm, no longer hiding anything, exhaled and handed the documents back to Savile, shaking his head and sighing: "It seems like I have performed admirably over these six years, convincing you to truly believe I would assume responsibility for these... garbage."
Anselm, who had always been as warm as a spring breeze, suddenly lost his smile.
He looked at the Scarletfrost Earl expressionlessly, seemingly looking down on him despite being in a lower position.
"There exist far more efficient methods of exploitation, more flawless means of domination, and more invincible strategies for plunder... and yet you worthless fools are complacent about the paltry gains you've secured through such rudimentary and laughable tactics."
"Just thinking of being associated with you as malefactors makes me genuinely sad."
He leaned on the armrest, supporting his head with a fist, and said unhappily, "A malefactor who can't even be loved or respected, is that even worthy of being called a malefactor?"
"...Madman, Hydra truly only breeds madmen, you're no different from your monstrous ancestors!"
Knowing he had no way out, the Scarletfrost Earl, in a mix of shock and anger, directly flipped the entire dining table.
It must be acknowledged that even in his fallen state, the Scarletfrost Earl, hailing from the northern lands renowned for their valor, still possessed considerable physical prowess.
But the tableware and food that should have hit Anselm's face instead clattered... onto the Scarletfrost Earl himself.
"See," Anselm said, legs crossed, spreading his arms, "this demeanor of a furious and defeated dog is also despicably unacceptable."
He sighed deeply, "A malefactor who can't even accept failure, go suck on your mommy's breast—oh right, is your mother still alive, Earl?"
"ANSELM!!!"
BANG—!
The burly figure, standing at two meters tall and weighing four hundred pounds, was sent flying, causing the concubines and beauties in the banquet hall to scream in terror, yet none dared to flee.
"A rude man."
The old man behind Anselm remained motionless, merely stating this expressionlessly.
Shouting someone's name without courtesy is even ruder than ‘greeting’ their mother, quite reasonable.
"Why..."
The Scarletfrost Earl, on the verge of losing his sanity, squeezed out words from between his teeth: "Why... why me! What purpose does this serve? You have been pretending for six years, what do you want to achieve you mad dog!?"
Savile frowned slightly, about to take a step forward, but Anselm raised his hand to signal him to stop, then took the cane from him and leisurely walked up to the Scarletfrost Earl.
"Why?" Anselm smiled down at him, "Isn't the answer right in front of you? Earl."
He forcefully poked the cane into the back of the Scarletfrost Earl's head, pressing his entire head against the floor, his tone filled with an indescribable joy:
"Just like how you think killing a few magistrates and tax collectors will make those 'lowly people' obediently settle down; just like how you find it incredibly amusing to see them all riled up, pinning their hopes on me..."
The young Hydra bent down, his handsome and spirited face seemingly shrouded in a deep darkness, he whispered to the Scarletfrost Earl like a venomous snake:
"Your constant self-persuasion that 'Anselm Hydra is different from other Hydras, he is negotiable', 'everything he does upon arriving in the Scarletfrost territory is to add bargaining chips', 'as long as there's a deal, I have a chance to live', that desperate struggle, willing to sell everything to survive, yet unaware that you never had a choice, your clownish appearance is truly—"
He straightened up, spread his arms, took a long deep breath, and then sighed contentedly:
"Truly, ridiculously delightful."
The Scarletfrost Earl, ridiculed in such a manner, felt no anger at this moment.
He only felt an icy chill from within.
Countless cold hands reached out from his veins, clenched his organs, snapped his bones, and deeply embedded the thorn of fear into his flesh.
He did all this, not to seek justice for those lowly people, not to seize his own wealth, but just to... trample and torment his own dignity and soul at this very moment?
In a daze, the Scarletfrost Earl's ears echoed with what Anselm had just said.
[Just thinking of being associated with you as malefactors makes me genuinely sad]
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