"What's going on with that assassin!"
Following closely behind Anselm, Sitana looked utterly unconvinced: "How could he just pop out from the shadow of that viscount?"
"Shadow-jump, is it really that uncommon of a spell?"
Anselm replied without turning his head, "Probably slipped in when the safe house was opened."
"I, I've seen such spells before too," Miss Sitana insisted stubbornly, as was her usual manner, "I've seen plenty of them at school! But how could he possibly have evaded—"
"How could he possibly have evaded your intuition and perception, right?"
The young Hydra halted his steps, slightly turning his head, a half-smile playing on his lips as he looked at Sitana.
"Because he is a true, professional assassin, Sitana."
"Erasing his presence, concealing his intent to kill, becoming one with nothingness—that is what a true assassin should be like."
He glanced at the visibly distressed young girl, his words carrying a deeper meaning: "An assassin who can't even control his own killing intent is nothing more than a third-rate nobody."
"..."
Sitana was a fool.
But her intuition always granted her inspiration and wisdom in unexpected ways, and when these matters involved her "strength" and "dignity," our young wolf became exceptionally sensitive.
On the other hand, she also felt that those assassins back then were indeed third-rate, which made the anger that had already surged to her throat unable to erupt directly.
"You... you were the one targeted by those assassins," Sitana retorted after pondering for like half a day, "That just shows they don't take you seriously either!"
Then, Sitana saw the smile on Anselm's face that particularly irritated her.
Pity, kindness, mercy... as if forgiving a disobedient child.
"Perhaps," he said with a meaningful tone, "the mastermind behind this believes that someone like me, who had you as a bodyguard, indeed deserves no better than such assassins."
"HYD—mmph!"
Before Sitana could let out a scream, the electric shock came, a move that Anselm had become quite adept at.
"Don't forget, Sitana, you've already wasted one opportunity."
Following the lead of the guard, Anselm quickly arrived at the room where Viscount Lundbeck's body was kept. He glanced back at Sitana and chuckled, "If you don't take this more seriously, I might just take it as you looking forward to the 'reward' that awaits after failure."
Before Sitana could say anything, Anselm had already raised his hand and said, "Alright, wait for me outside—don't worry, their target isn't me, so if anything happens, it won't count against your attempts."
With that said, he entered the room alone, leaving Sitana, who hadn't even had a chance to speak, opening her mouth but ultimately swallowing her grievances with extreme frustration.
The captain of the guard who had initially met Anselm carefully observed Sitana for quite some time. After much hesitation, he finally spoke up cautiously:
"Excuse me, Miss Sitana, may I ask you a question?"
"Just spit it out!" Sitana, in her foul mood, never showed anyone a pleasant face.
"Is it true... that Lord Hydra was targeted by an assassination attempt?"
When the captain asked this question, his tone was incredulous, and the two eyes visible under his helmet were filled with clear anger.
"Yeah, so what?" Sitana shot a look at the guard, "What's it to you if he got hit by an assassin?"
"Lord Hydra is on our side!"
The captain's voice suddenly rose sharply: "He has done so much... I heard that he was assassinated by the nobles because he was fighting for our rights!"
Sitana thought to herself, what horseshit is this guy spewing, he has no clue how chummy Anselm was with those nobles at the party.
But upon closer thought, she suddenly realized that after that night's banquet, at least in Scarletfrost City, Anselm's reputation had soared to an incredible level, and the narrative... seemed to be pretty much in line with what this guy was saying.
They're getting all worked up over nothing; these idiots are really something.
Assassination... Assassination... Viscount...
Sitana frowned, feeling as if there was an idea brewing in her mind... but she just couldn't quite grasp it.
And so she gave up.
Inside the room, unaware that Sitana had come close to the truth for a moment, Anselm was examining the body of Viscount Lundbeck.
Viscount Lundbeck was not a beyonder, just an ordinary person. Anselm used his cane to pull open the viscount's clothing, revealing the dark purple and black marks spreading from the stab wound at his heart across his entire chest.
"What a miserable way to die, Viscount," Anselm chuckled, "Let me think... what method can I use to verify that this body is indeed yours?"
The young man, running his fingers over the cane, sank into contemplation: "I should have brought some of father's alchemy potions; I wasn't fully prepared... but, perhaps it is for the better."
He glanced towards the door: "At least it gives our Miss Sitana something to do."
"So... what response should I give to make you feel it's 'reasonable'?"
In fact, Anselm himself didn't take these clumsy tricks to heart; no matter what the other party did, they could only see a clown in the mirror.
He merely saw this incident as an opportunity for Sitana to grow, and along the way, he suddenly realized that it was an excellent chance to train Sitana.
Of course, Anselm was not completely indifferent—because he detested betrayal.
"Young Master."
Savile appeared behind Anselm like a ghost: "I have placed the Image Projection Crystals as you instructed."
"Have you scouted the surrounding area?"
"Apart from the ones you've dealt with, there are still six assassins left, three Imperial Thrones, three Crystal Staircases, all seasoned veterans. One of them... you need to be cautious of," Savile said, "He's from the Order of Time."
"It seems that the other party really wants me to witness the deaths of these two viscounts—deaths that are genuine and without any pretense. As for the Order of Time... heh, I know what he wants to do. Let's wait a bit longer, Savile."
Anselm glanced at the body of Viscount Lundbeck and couldn't help but chuckle, "Compared to that joke of an assassination attempt on me, this is indeed quite serious. Savile, do you think the person lying here is really Viscount Lundbeck?"
"Whether it is or isn't makes little difference," Savile replied calmly, "There are countless spells to maintain a body in a state of death. After all, the Grand Duke of Greytower is the headmaster of Skyfrost Tower; such a task is as simple for him as drinking water."
"Hmm... what do you think would happen if I were to blast Viscount Lundbeck's corpse to pieces right now?"
"Even so, the Grand Duke would certainly not show himself."
"Hahaha, I wouldn't resort to that either," Anselm laughed heartily, "Such an act would be too crude and reckless, and it would be letting our two viscounts off too lightly, Savile."
"Death is merciful."
He sighed softly, "But our viscount friends have betrayed my mercy, and they will pay the price, Savile."
"Indeed, Young Master."
"Continue with your tasks," Anselm waved his hand, "As for this situation... Ah!"
His eyes lit up: "I could have Viscount Howlingwinds summon a necromancer here; that spectacle would certainly be quite amusing!"
As for desecrating the corpse of a noble, even if it were desecrated, what would it matter?
Anselm Hydra, was he here to savor fine wine and admire beautiful women with you, Viscount Howlingwinds?
He was here to bestow his mercy upon you. He has come to bring you a merciful death.
Author's Note:
ps:
It seems there aren't many comments, don't you guys like to chat? (Scratching head)
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