The news of the Scarletfrost Earl's death, along with Anselm's trial records, reached the Imperial Capital, and the great Empress on the throne, as always, did not hide her favor and indulgence towards Anselm.
"You possess complete authority over the affairs of the Scarletfrost territory. You may eliminate anyone you want without informing me, but ensure the stability of the region remains intact," was the Empress's reply.
Thus, Anselm was currently in his study, dealing with the various troubles that had accumulated in Scarletfrost.
"Young Master, reducing the agricultural tax to just five percent for the next three years, abolishing all other miscellaneous taxes for farmers, and lowering the commercial tax as well, isn't this a bit..."
Savile had grown accustomed to his young master's unconventional ideas, but Anselm always managed to surprise him in unexpected ways.
"Hmm? What seems to be the issue?" Anselm looked up, "Is it insufficient? To be honest, my initial intention was to completely exempt the taxes."
"This is indeed a bit... It will be difficult to explain to the Empress."
Anselm laughed heartily, leaning back in his chair, the exquisite quill spinning between his fingers: "Savile, are you aware of just how far ahead that dim-witted swine Cantrell has taxed the people?"
The young man spread his hands, the casual, street-smart gesture suiting him well, exuding a dashing charm: "Sixty years! Based on the normal tax rate, that bastard has taxed them sixty years ahead! It's a miracle Scarletfrost has lasted this long, not to mention the unsightly profit networks he's established..."
He shook his head and laughed: "The personal assets we could seize from him and pocket are more than sufficient to appease the Empress. Moreover, she won't care too much about this money. My dear father has confiscated enough wealth in the past two years to sustain her lavish spending for quite a while, possibly even until her death."
"But that implies you intend to use your war spoils to subsidize the common people of Scarletfrost," Savile reminded him, "Even for your kindness, it's quite extravagant."
As the Contract Head for Anselm's father, Savile possessed ample experience to estimate the wealth of these parasites. Even if the bulk of the Scarletfrost Earl's assets had to be handed over to the Empress, the spoils that would ultimately land in Anselm's hands would still be a considerable amount—particularly given the strong possibility that the Empress, who doted on Anselm, would leave the lion's share for him.
Even so, in Savile's view, it was unnecessary to allocate such a large sum from the vast spoils for this purpose.
Nevertheless, he would at most raise some questions about Anselm's decisions, never overstepping his bounds. Furthermore, Savile was accustomed to his young master's inexplicable favoritism towards the common people—within the Hydra territory, Anselm Hydra's reputation soared above that of his father and the Empress combined.
"Savile, when did your foresight become so limited?" The young nobleman laughed and shook his head.
"If the term 'greatness' could be purchased with money, then hesitation would be shortsighted, and stinginess would be foolish—moreover, money holds little significance for me."
Anselm stood up, stretching, and pushed open the window. The snowstorm had subsided, but Anselm's temporary manor had accumulated a lot of snow, and many enthusiastic commoners were helping him shovel it.
"They are such easily satisfied people," the languid serpent said with a smile that was hard to decipher.
"Lovreau, Cadillac, Nokela, you've been at it for over an hour. Don't you think it's time for a break?" The young man called out to the youths in the courtyard.
The young men, upon hearing their names, looked up in surprise, vigorously waving their shovels, showing no signs of fatigue.
Anselm glanced at Savile, who nodded slightly and instantly vanished from the study.
Five minutes later, maids brought clear hooch and dried meat to the courtyard. Anselm waved cheerfully at the young men downstairs, who looked at him with admiration and reverence, then turned and sat back down in his chair.
But not long after, hearing the shouts of "WOO-HA, HYDRA!" and "WOO-HA, HYDRA!" outside the window, the joy on Anselm's face faded, and he sighed helplessly.
"Savile, find me an arcanist who can apply a powerful soundproof barrier before tonight."
"Tonight? Are you staying at the manor tonight?"
"Hmm? Do I have other plans?"
Anselm looked somewhat surprised, flipping through the documents on his side, then slapped his forehead forcefully: "The minor nobles and merchants of Scarletfrost... I almost forgot about them, heh, they're quick, it's only been half a day. By the way, what about the Scarletfrost clan? Have they been dealt with as I instructed?"
Savile bowed slightly: "It's being attended to; it won't take long."
The young Hydra nodded, then suddenly realized: "That fast? You're not using my father's method, are you?"
"...Young Master, do I seem that unreliable in your eyes?"
"Hahaha, just a joke to ease the atmosphere, handling official duties can be quite exhausting, Savile."
"Then, shall I summon Miss Nanaga?" The old butler asked considerately.
"Oh! Almost forgot about my good girl."
Anselm stroked his chin, pondering for a moment: "Turn on the heating mode in the room after I leave."
The old butler bowed and left.
"Ah, right, Savile."
The young man's face showed a meaningful smile:
"Help me get in touch with those two friends recommended by the Scarletfrost Earl."
*
Standing at the door of the study, Malena clutched her clothes, waiting for a response from inside.
"Come in."
When the young and pleasant voice came from within, the girl took a deep breath and carefully pushed the door open.
The warmth inside the room surprised Malena; even without a fireplace, the study was still warmer than the living room with a burning fire.
Malena knew what this was, it was something that arcanists had carved... something, something... As long as magic crystal energy was provided, it could make the room incredibly cool in summer and warm in winter.
If every household in the northern region were equipped with such a thing, how many fewer lives would be lost to the cold each year...
Malena thought absentmindedly, but she soon pushed these chaotic thoughts aside and nervously watched the young man writing at his desk.
"Is there something you need, Miss Rancemalos?" When Sitana was not present, Anselm addressed Malena by her surname in a very proper manner.
"L-Lord Hydra."
Even though she had mentally prepared herself, Malena's heart still raced uncontrollably when facing Anselm again.
Even after repeatedly warning herself that Anselm Hydra, as a man capable of executing the Scarletfrost Earl at will, must be far more mysterious, complex, and dangerous than she could imagine... had he done anything improper so far?
No, even if Malena tried to nitpick, she could not find any flaws in the young and handsome Lord Hydra. On the contrary, he had helped countless people in Scarletfrost without seeking any return, and the largest beast that had plagued this land had been slain by the golden knight himself. What else could she possibly doubt?
Malena, like a little rabbit, secretly watched Lord Hydra's serious expression as he dealt with documents, unable to understand why her sister harbored such great hostility towards Lord Hydra.
"Miss Rancemalos."
While Malena was still lost in thought, Anselm had put down his pen, smiling gently at her, patiently repeating his question without any impatience: "Is there something you need?"
Realizing her rudeness, the snow-haired girl's face flushed red, and she lowered her head, her voice still weak but with less fear and more shyness.
"I... I would like to ask you to spare a little time, just a little."
Anselm leaned back comfortably in his chair, his hands on the desk first interlocking his fingers, then moving down naturally as he asked with a smile, "May I interpret this as an invitation to a date?"
"Ah! No—it's not!" Malena's ears instantly flushed red, a beautiful blush spreading from her snow-white, delicate neck to her cheeks, "That's not what I meant!"
"That's truly a pity," Anselm sighed with a hint of sadness, "It seems I'm not yet worthy of that."
Poor Miss Malena was at a loss for how to react, standing there, making strange sounds like "uh-uh-ah-ah" until Anselm couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Don't be too nervous, Miss Malena, it was just a joke." —He subtly changed the way he addressed her, and Miss Malena, unaware of this, only reacted after realizing it, clenching her clothes in embarrassment and lowering her head without a word.
Of course, it could only be a joke. How could Lord Hydra possibly have any interest in a girl like her? —Malena felt a complex mix of emotions for the brief moment of joy that flashed through her heart.
"Hmm... was I too frivolous and rude, Miss Malena?" Anselm, observing Malena, suddenly asked with some concern.
"…No, it's not that, it's just, I…"
Malena, who thought she could be clear-headed in her conversation with Anselm, was now in a state of chaos in her mind.
The good news was that she no longer felt any pressure about the request she wanted to make; the bad news was that the current pressure made her want to crouch down and hold her head.
"Alright then, please lift your head, Miss Malena."
"…" Unlike her willful sister, Malena obediently lifted her head.
Anselm looked straight into her eyes, and before Malena could start to avoid his gaze, he spoke directly, his tone pure and sincere:
"I apologize for my inconsiderate remarks earlier, Miss Malena."
Malena immediately waved her hands in panic: "No… you don't have to…"
No prominent figure had ever apologized to her. The first time she dared to point out a tax collector's mistake, all she got was a cruel slap. Following that incident, Malena learned not to point out any mistakes made by those in positions of authority.
"But it was indeed inconsiderate of me, I just don’t want you to be so nervous," Anselm said with a smile, blinking. "Now, Miss Malena, aren't you just thinking 'what strange things is this person saying,' and feeling less nervous about what you wanted to say?"
The girl was stunned, feeling her breath grow hot, unsure if it was because the room was too warm or for other reasons.
She couldn't help but tap the ground lightly with her toes, answering in a slightly warm and soft voice: "Yes, thank you, Lord Hydra, I'm not as nervous anymore."
"I would like to ask you… to spare some time to witness, to witness the talent of Sitana, that child. I assure you, she will be outstanding… no, she will be the most outstanding hunter, warrior in the north!"
Malena's voice was firm and powerful, her gaze no longer avoiding Anselm's.
"Hmm… then why didn't Miss Sitana come with you, Miss Malena?"
"…"
Poor Malena, the courage she had just mustered instantly dissipated.
However, before there was time for embarrassment or awkwardness, Anselm already said with a smile: "It's okay, tomorrow… after breakfast, bring Miss Sitana—"
He paused, as if he had thought of something, and his smile grew even brighter: "No, let's do it tonight, the maid will inform you then."
The sudden change made Malena's heart skip a beat, and she suppressed the joy of wanting to jump up on the spot, bowing deeply to Anselm: "Thank you for your kindness, Lord Hydra!"
"No, you should thank yourself,... ahh... Miss Malena."
As if the strange sound had never been uttered, Anselm smiled: "You should thank your love for your family, and your commendable courage."
Staring into those sea-blue eyes, Malena felt dazed. No one had ever spoken to her like this, and she felt a peculiar emotion brewing in her heart. This budding emotion made her overlook the strange sensation of something gradually wrapping around her.
Summoning her courage once more as Anselm had said, she lifted her skirt and performed a awkward curtsy, then suppressed the urge to flee from the study and ran out.
After a brief silence in the study, a strange swallowing sound was heard.
"Poor Miss Malena," said a woman's voice, alluring and confident, like a siren's song, from an unknown source.
"Dear Miss Nanaga," Anselm looked down, meeting the gaze of a pair of pitch-black, lifeless yet strangely fervent eyes, "That wasn't an action befitting a good girl."
Around his sea-blue eyes seemed to have been stained by a deep black border, twitching occasionally like a living thing.
The polite and kind demeanor from before appeared as mere illusionary smoke, and as the smoke dissipated... only the demonic spectacle from the abyss endured, ensnaring those who dared to gaze upon him.
"But I've long ceased to be a good girl, my dear master," said Yura Nanaga, reborn, happily rubbing against Anselm's thigh, "Of course, if you need me to be, I will be, but in that moment—"
The woman's face showed a seductive and bizarre smile as she twisted upward like a boneless snake, pressing against the young man's chest, lifting her chin to lick his earlobe:
"Do you want me to be a good girl, or a naughty girl?"
Anselm smiled and stroked her chin, "I need you to be a girl who doesn't feel jealousy."
Seeing the slightly stiff expression on the beauty's face, the devil born from the endless black realm felt delighted, gently embracing her waist, casting a spell on her soul.
"Because it's unnecessary, those without the qualification cannot accompany me."
Anselm nibbled gently on Yura's graceful snowy neck, whispering as if injecting venom into her veins:
"But you, Yura, my good girl, you are destined to fall with me to the depths of the abyss, aren't you?"
"Ah... ah—!"
The woman with black eyes, hugging Anselm tightly, let out a fervent, almost mournful moan:
"Yes... yes, yes! My devil, my... master!"
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