Facilitating a confrontation between Sitana and the Revolutionary, and successfully inciting discord between the two parties, was no trivial task.
Even with Anselm’s profound understanding of the personalities and mental frameworks of both parties, the actual thoughts and sentiments that emerged in reality were far from being the same as the scenarios he had scripted on paper. He could not simply will the plot to unfold as he desired; such absolute control over the narrative is impossible.
Even for him, it was impossible to predict with absolute clarity the entire sequence of events that would lead to a conflict between the two parties.
Therefore, Anselm was always prepared to adjust the course of events. As fort how to steer the relationship between the two parties towards "hostility," for Savile, this was undoubtedly a piece of cake.
Nonetheless, the desired successful conclusion that Anselm sought was ultimately achieved without any surprises. This was not due to any external factors, but purely because of the luck that inevitably favors those who are well-prepared. It was merely luck that made the outcome appear so smooth and uneventful.
However, the unusual "emptiness" in the defenses within the Scarletfrost Manor was a separate matter and was unrelated to what Anselm is currently focusing on.
In the manor echoing with sharp alarms, Hydra, leaning on a cane, passed through one open door after another, leisurely stepping into the treasure vault that had been plundered by two-thirds.
And what of Sitana at this moment? The venom of Bee Sting brought her intense pain, causing her body to convulse involuntarily. Unable to regain control of her limbs, she could only lie on her side, pitifully curled up into a ball.
Upon hearing the footsteps approaching from a distance, she was initially filled with panic. However, the more she listened to the footsteps and the crisp sounds of something hitting the ground, the more she felt that something was amiss.
Until her vision was filled with the familiar sight of the black cane that she had seen countless times before.
"How unsightly, Sitana," came the voice.
A teasing sigh filled the air, echoing beside the girl's ear.
"Hy... dra..."
Miss Young Wolf, feeling utterly humiliated, struggled to squeeze out her words through clenched teeth: "Why... are you... here?"
"That's a good question. How indeed did I find myself here?"
Anselm crouched down, gently caressing Sitana's cheek with his hand, which then slowly moved downward, resting against her neck.
"Hmm... They really didn't hold back, did they? What exactly did you do to provoke them so much?"
Sitana's physical condition made Anselm raise his eyebrows slightly: "If it weren't for your sturdy body, you'd be crippled for the rest of your life."
You see, this is something even Anselm couldn't have anticipated—he was well aware of Sitana's ability to draw hostility, but he didn't expect that in just a few minutes, his dear girl could manage to escalate the animosity to such a high level.
"..." Sitana clenched her teeth, unable to speak, not wanting to either.
Just released from prison, and now embroiled in another major incident, how could she face Anselm and talk nonsense?
"Oh, the guards are coming," Anselm said with a light laugh as the hurried footsteps, contrasting with his earlier leisurely pace, approached from outside. He continued to caress the collar around Sitana's neck, "Sitana, you're in trouble now."
With those words, he seemed completely unconcerned about his own situation. The golden-haired young man, smiling gently, pinched Sitana's cheek and met her crimson eyes:
"You've always wanted to tarnish my reputation, and this is a perfect opportunity—Hydra's closest subordinate sneaking into the Scarletfrost Manor at night to steal from the Scarletfrost family's treasury, isn't that a great topic to use against me?"
Sitana's body twitched, and her lips moved weakly, her voice trembling and faint: "I didn't... mean that."
All she wanted was to expose the hypocrisy of this man; she didn't want to tarnish Hydra's reputation through such almost slanderous means!
"So, what you mean is—"
Anselm's smile brightened: "You need my help, right?"
The footsteps grew closer, and Sitana could even hear the frightened shouts from outside.
"Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock."
Crouching down and resting his cheek in his hand, Anselm mimicked the sound of a clock ticking: "Time's running out, Miss Sitana, you know what to say, right?"
What would happen if I were caught? Would they think poorly of Hydra because of me? Would Lena be angry? Do I have the right to demand a court trial again? What.. what would Hydra do then?
Does he... look down on me now?
Sitana didn't feel particularly wronged; apart from her hatred for those two scoundrels, she knew this trouble was self-inflicted. She wanted to face it, yet she didn't know how to handle the situation.
The embarrassment of a failed robbery, the resentment of being betrayed, the panic of not wanting to be caught, and at this critical moment, having to, for the umpteenth time, seek help from the person she detested the most—
The complex, bitter, tingling, and yet seemingly scorching emotions that were raging within her made the already physically exhausted Sitana appear even more delicate and vulnerable.
"Hydra... help me."
With her mind somewhat clouded, Miss Young Wolf murmured helplessly: "I'm sorry, it seems... I've caused trouble again."
Time and time again.
No matter how much Sitana disliked Anselm, she couldn't ignore her repeated acts of recklessness, rudeness, and the trouble she had caused—she was no longer the genius who looked down on everything at the age of twelve, because she had tasted the bitter fruits of that arrogance.
Of course, there were a more important reason as well.
That was because Anselm, in the end, would always forgive her.
Thinking of this, Sitana's body curled up even more, the pain from the neurotoxin and the emotional turmoil made her unsure of what to do or say.
Ashamed of her own foolishness, the girl, her eyes red, met Anselm's gaze and, almost unconsciously, reached out... gently tugging at the hem of his clothes.
"......"
The cheerful smile on the face of the wicked Hydra momentarily froze as he gazed into the crimson eyes filled with guilt and vulnerability, remaining silent for a couple of seconds.
"Alright," he said with a light laugh, tucking his cane at his waist and extending his arms to lift Sitana up by the waist, "As long as you're willing to keep asking for my help in this manner and with this attitude, I will always respond to your call, Sitana."
At that moment, the guards burst into the treasury, but they... were inexplicably frozen in place, like still images on a curtain, or silent sculptures in a garden.
Now, Sitana seemed to realize that her earlier actions were overly squeamish, she didn't want to be held by Anselm like this. However, the pain from the toxin made her curl up even tighter in Anselm's embrace.
Having no other choice, she tried to divert her attention to extricate herself from those absurd emotions. She coughed, her voice hoarse as she asked, "What... is going on here?"
"Haven't you always been curious about Savile's ability?"
Anselm strolled leisurely among the guards whose expressions were frozen: "As you can see, this is the power of his ability."
"...Time?"
Sitana furrowed her brows: "That assassin... and him..."
"They are not related," Anselm said with a faint smile, "The time control achieved through that technique is vastly different from the power Savile wields—do you know how my father referred to him?"
The young Hydra seemed genuinely pleased, a pure joy untainted by any extraneous colors, which made him quite talkative. "[The Chronos Phantom]."
Anselm was not stingy with his praise for the old butler: "The time magic wielded by the assassin of the Order of Time is nothing more than a child's play in front of Savile."
It was then that Sitana understood why Savile was so elusive and she could never detect his presence.
A time manipulator... someone who sounded incredibly powerful, and yet, he was merely Hydra's butler?
Anselm seemed to have discerned what Sitana was thinking and smiled meaningfully: "You will be stronger than him, Sitana."
The young girl in Anselm's arms shrank a little, her gaze drifting away: "You're... quite confident in me."
—Her tone carried a happiness that even a fool could make out
The young nobleman, as if returning to his own manor, strolled through the corridors with the charming and delicate short-haired girl in his arms, where the guards with various expressions—some serious, some enraged, some puzzled—had become mere decorative sculptures, allowing Sitana's tense heart to finally relax.
After her emotions had somewhat settled, she finally began to feel something was wrong—why had they been walking for so long? It seemed as though they were heading deeper into the manor.
"Hy, Hydra."
Sitana asked timidly, "Why haven't we left?"
"Hmm?" Anselm raised an eyebrow slightly, "Who said we were going to leave?"
"......"
Looking at the bewildered girl in his arms, the pitch-black emotions within Anselm slowly stirred.
He carried Sitana through the corridor and arrived at a guest room door, which he pushed open with a casual gesture.
"Hmm, clean and tidy, no one has used it before."
Anselm nodded in satisfaction, then tossed Sitana, whose body was still slightly twitching, onto the bed.
"Hydra... what, what are you doing!"
Sitana's gaze gradually filled with shock and anger, because the jerk who had thrown her onto the bed was... was taking off his clothes!
"My dear Miss Sitana, it seems you've misunderstood something."
Anselm, having removed his wolf fur cloak, leisurely unbuttoned the waistcoat of his inner shirt.
He tilted his head slightly, his smile pure and gentle: "I am willing to help you out of danger, but that doesn't mean I won't punish you for your reckless actions."
"It's two in the morning, and I should have been lying in bed, lost in the tranquility of sleep, but you've disrupted that peace, Sitana."
"You... I... I know I was wrong! Don't push it! I'm warning you! If you dare to do something like that, I swear, I swear I'll make sure we both pay the price!"
Sitana tightly closed her eyes, screaming in her fragile voice, yet displaying no semblance of strength.
Damn... damn, damn, damn! It's all because of those two bastards! Otherwise, how could I be in this situation... Hydra wouldn't, wouldn't really want to do that, would he?
"Savile, you can leave now."
Anselm suddenly spoke up.
"......?"
Sitana cautiously opened her eyes with just a crack, seeing that Anselm was still wearing his last piece of clothing, a shirt, and she breathed a slight sigh of relief.
"The time in this manor has started flowing again, Sitana."
Anselm sat down on the bed, grabbed Miss Young Wolf who was trying to shrink to the edge of the bed, and pressed her onto his lap.
He smiled amiably, very gentlemanly, and began to strip everything unnecessary from Sitana's body.
The young girl immediately wanted to scream, but was quickly muffled by Anselm's hand over her mouth.
"Shh, listen."
Footsteps and shouts echoed: "Have you searched this area thoroughly?"
"We've searched it, nothing here! Move to the next floor!"
The cunning and crazy snake raised his index finger to his lips and chuckled softly, saying, "Carelessly making noise could get you discovered, Sitana. But I don't mind..."
His fingertips wandered over the girl's snow-white skin:
"Being discovered in this situation."
Anselm's masterful movements transformed the fierce and brutal she-wolf into something akin to a lamb stripped of its wool—though the expression of the little lamb was far from meek.
Sitana glared at Anselm with a look that could kill, but compared to the utterly genuine rage and savagery she felt at the beginning, having gone through so much... she was now more like a sheep in wolf's clothing. The embarrassment that made her heart race was far more unbearable for Miss Young Wolf than the anger itself.
"No need to worry, I won't do anything more."
Anselm lifted the blanket, cradling Sitana as he slipped under it, lazily resting his chin on her neck, and tightening his arms around her slender, firm waist.
"Once I wake up from my nap, the punishment will be over, quite simple, isn't it?"
"However... you need to be careful, Sitana."
The devil whispered in the ear of the beautiful she-wolf now transformed into a lamb:
"If you don't remind me in time that the guards are coming to search again..."
"In the eyes of others, you might soon shift from being my subordinate to my personal toy—ah, that , um... means a plaything."
"What! Wait, you... don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep!"
Hearing this, Sitana no longer cared about her embarrassment; even the toxin that had numbed her body couldn't stop her from forcibly twisting her body: "I won’t... I absolutely won't accept it! Hydra! H-Hydra, don't fall asleep! Please, I beg you, okay!"
She absolutely didn't want to be seen as Hydra's plaything, absolutely not. She couldn't trust that the guards would keep their mouths shut; how far and wide would this news spread? Sitana didn't dare to imagine. She couldn't bear the thought of walking down the street one day and being looked at with those kind of eyes—how terrifying that would be!
"...Sitana, you're being a bit too willful."
Anselm opened his eyes reluctantly: "If I don't sleep, then what can I do? Hmm?"
"I... I..."
Sitana opened her mouth: "You, you can talk to me! Absolutely no sleeping! If you fall into a deep sleep and I can't wake you up, then I'm doomed!"
"Chatting, huh..."
Anselm pondered for a moment, then responded with a light laugh: "Alright, that's not a bad idea. But just chatting seems a bit dull. How about we play a game, Sitana?"
Feeling like she might have fallen into another trap, Sitana shivered: "What do you want to do?"
"We take turns asking each other questions, and neither of us can lie."
Anselm said with a smile: "The way to verify is... to listen to the other person's heartbeat."
"Oh... listen to the heartbeat? Hmm, listen to the heartbeat..."
"--Listen to the heartbeat?!"
The little lamb entangled by the snake struggled again: "You, are you kidding me? With me like this, and you want to hear my heartbeat? Then let me put my clothes back on—"
"It seems Miss Sitana is not very willing."
Anselm let out a long yawn: "Then forget it, I think I'll just go to sleep. After staying up this late, I'm bound to sleep like a log—you know, the kind of sleep where no amount of calling will wake me up... What do you think, Sitana?"
"......"
After a long silence, within the thick blanket in Anselm's embrace, the she-wolf who had brought this trouble upon herself, the charming, adorable and delicate white lamb, resentfully and embarrassedly bumped her head against Anselm's chest.
"Enough! I'll play, I'll play, alright!"
At least... at least there's still the chest wrap.
Miss Sitana had resorted to using this method to comfort herself.
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