The Scarletfrost City, and even the entire Scarletfrost, had not been this lively for a long time.
This land, in truth, was not actually barren; yet, under the oppressive rule of successive lords, it gradually appeared desolate. Even its main city, Scarletfrost city, did not exude much prosperity.
But from that day on, everything changed.
--From the day when a headless corpse was hung at the entrance of Lord Hydra's mansion.
Scarletfrost City began to get back on track, with everything falling into orderly patterns. The hygiene conditions in the Outer City District visibly improved, while the Inner City District saw a growing flow of people and carriages. Merchants from other territories eagerly awaited opportunities for speculation, and the northern nobles began to reconsider this land with renewed interest.
"Scarletfrost is getting better" - Every person living in Scarletfrost City would agree with this statement.
Even the poorest laborers in the Outer City District began to harbor hopes for the future.
Lalaur was a stonemason, inheriting his craft from his ancestors. As the village grew increasingly impoverished and young people gradually left, he too had to bid farewell to his aging mother and his young brother to seek a livelihood elsewhere.
And even someone from the countryside like Lalaur knew that in this land ravaged by suffering, the Scarletfrost City where Lord Hydra resided held infinite hope.
With hope in his heart, Lalaur crossed the snowy plains and traversed the dense forests, arduously reaching this once notorious city in Scarletfrost.
As he entered Scarletfrost City, he found it all very unbelievable.
And this wasn't because Scarletfrost City was particularly grand and majestic, or prosperous and bustling.
On his journey to Scarletfrost, Laurall passed through several cities. Having no access to the inner or upper districts of those cities, he could only stay in the most dilapidated inns, where he encountered all sorts of people, most of whom were either cold and dangerous or dull and indifferent.
This was the appearance of those at the very bottom, the people without hope.
Yet here, in the Outer City District of Scarletfrost City... these unfortunate souls, clad in worn-out cotton garments, their hands and faces marked by frostbite, their skin cracked and parched, nearly indistinguishable from the destitute in other cities, radiated a vitality that Lalaur found inexplicable.
It was the vitality that only those truly alive and still hopeful about life could exude.
They might not necessarily be friendly or happy, but they were indeed real people who would ponder over the "future."
For these poor people, who could freeze or starve to death at any moment on the roadside, pondering was the most luxurious thing
"Is this... the greatness of His Grace?"
Lalaur, filled with admiration, began to look for a small inn where he could stay.
But after circling around and nearly covering the entire Outer City District... he couldn't find a single inn to stay in.
--Because they were all fully occupied!
"So you don't know?"
The owner of the last inn looked somewhat surprised at the dusty young man: "Haven't you heard? Lord Hydra is giving a speech at the central square today, and all the inns in the Inner City District were fully booked yesterday! Some wealthy folks even had to stay in our shabby inns, hahaha--"
The middle-aged innkeeper roared with joy: "Long live Lord Hydra!"
In the narrow and dirty lobby of the inn, several people in tattered cotton jackets also cheered:
"Long live Lord Hydra!"
"But..." Lalaur forced a smile, "Is there really no place to stay? This weather isn't something everyone can endure."
The owner shrugged, "Maybe you could try your luck at the church. The All Saint's Church may not have much influence in the North, but we do have a church here. The priest there might take you in for the night.
The owner's suggestion brought Lalaur unexpected joy. Although he grew up in the countryside, he had heard about the church from many people who had returned from their travels, and he thought this was indeed a good solution.
"Thank you! I'll give it a try!"
The simple and kind-hearted young man bowed slightly to the owner in gratitude, then quickly turned and ran outside.
"Hey, kid, wait! The Great Cold Wave is coming in a few days, do you want to book a spot here now--"
"...He sure runs fast."
Seeing the loss of a regular customer, the owner couldn't help but purse his lips.
"Hey, Lorka," a man in tattered jacket sitting on the old sofa in the lobby grinned, "Can you give me a room to get through this Great Cold Wave? My house is too drafty."
"Can you afford the coal fee?" Lorka crossed his arms, "If you can't pay, you'd better stay outside."
"Heartless bastard!" the man in tattered jacket cursed, but soon laughed again, "I'll bring my own coal, don't worry about it, how about that?"
His few friends, who all looked quite impoverished, chuckled together.
"...What do you mean by that? You didn't steal them from some big shot, did you?" Lorka became alert, "Don't even think about dragging me into this!"
"We heard something big from Lancacci, you know, the one with the most information."
The poor man, who should have been worried about his own safety, now seemed so confident and happy: "Want to know? Want to know, then give me a room!"
*
Lalaur entered the spacious and empty church, nervously looking around.
"Hello there, young man."
A deep and warm voice spoke behind him: "Is there something I can help you with?"
Lalaur was startled and quickly turned around, stammering as he explained, "I... I don't have any bad intentions, I just--"
"Don't be nervous," the priest in a black robe smiled, "No thief would be as timid as you. Are you here for the first time?"
"Ah... yes."
Lalaur's gaze fell on the pendant around the priest's neck—a snake biting its own tail, forming a circle with its body.
He recognized it; this was the emblem of the All Saints' Church.
"There's no need to be so formal; we don't require everyone to revere our Lord."
The priest's voice was soothing: "So, do you need help, young man?"
"I..." Lalaur awkwardly opened his mouth, "Could you possibly allow me to stay here... for the night?"
"Of course."
The priest agreed without hesitation: "Although we don't have the extra rooms, the Lord has told me that you are worthy to stay in the church."
Lalaur was a bit confused by the priest's mystical words, but hearing that he had a place to stay, he was still very happy. Although he didn't know how well the church could keep warm, at least he wouldn't have to endure the wind.
Moreover, Lalaur had his own little secret—for certain reasons, he wasn't actually that afraid of the wind and cold.
The young man subconsciously touched the pendant at his chest and bowed deeply to the priest with heartfelt gratitude: "Thank you for your generosity."
"I accept it on behalf of my Lord," the priest replied with a smile.
With a temporary place to stay, Lalaur felt much more relaxed. Having nothing else to do, he followed the priest, continuing to curiously observe the church, and couldn't help but ask:
"Father, is this big church only managed by you alone?"
"There is also a monk, a nun, and six children."
The priest said, "However, they have all gone to the central square now."
"Central square..." Lalaur paused, then realized, "Is it because of Lord Hydra's speech?"
"Naturally."
The priest's matter-of-fact tone made Lalaur nod in agreement: "After all, it's Lord Hydra... He's truly an extraordinary figure! I never imagined Scarletfrost City would be like this, as if everyone has hope."
"Hope." The priest halted his steps, speaking in a soft tone that Lalaur couldn't quite comprehend: "Hope is often just an illusion constructed by the devil."
"...What did you just say?"
Lalaur's mind stalled for a couple of seconds, and his expression gradually turned fearful.
He certainly didn't want the meaning of those words to be what he thought it was.
"It's nothing, just a spontaneous thought."
The priest smiled, "Young man, why don't you go and see his grace's speech? By my estimation, it should be starting soon."
"What?!"
Lalaur exclaimed, nearly dropping his luggage: "It's starting? I... I had planned to go, but I didn't expect it to be so soon!"
"Could you please keep my luggage for me, Father?"
The young man's expression was anxious, after all, in the current Scarletfrost, who wouldn't yearn for the great Lord Hydra?
"Go ahead, and if you can, please share your thoughts afterward."
The priest took Laurall's luggage and smiled:
"The Lord seems to have some interest in this."
*
In the pleasant and warm carriage, Anselm closed his eyes and rested, his expression serene.
Sitting beside him was not Sitana, but Malena in a deep black, heavy gown.
"As of now, the city has seen an influx of nearly ten thousand transient individuals."
After summarizing the real-time reports, Malena softly informed Anselm, "According to the information provided by Mr. Savile, about twenty percent of them are investigators from various factions, coming from..."
Anselm listened quietly to Malena's report, occasionally nodding gently.
"According to the data provided by the patrol team, the crime rate has dropped by thirty-two percent this week. Additionally, the sanitation management in the Outer City district has been successfully implemented..."
In truth, many of the terms in the report were beyond Malena's understanding, and most of these achievements were not directly attributable to her efforts; she was merely reporting the information.
Yet, she was absorbing all the information and knowledge she could access at an unimaginably rapid pace—so much so that even Sitana was unaware that Malena had not slept for six days. She had requested three bottles of energy potions and nutrient fluid from Anselm, enough to keep her physically healthy without sleep for a full month.
"...And finally."
Malena's voice changed slightly, becoming hesitant, becoming heavy.
"The funds you allocated to the nobles of Scarletfrost have been fully returned, not a penny less."
"It seems our Earl Hardstone is very punctual."
Anselm finally opened his eyes and, with a demeanor much lighter than Malena's, smiled, "He is an interesting man, and quite capable."
"...Mr. Anselm." Malena's eyes lowered, "I know it's too late now, but could you possibly—"
"Is this your plea, Malena?"
Anselm turned his head to meet Malena's gaze.
His tone was gentle and soft, yet firm and convincing: "If what you are about to say is a plea to me, then I will agree."
As Malena met Anselm's gaze, she gradually tightened her grip on her skirt, her knuckles turning slightly pale. She moved her lips, but still couldn't bring herself to say the words.
"...No, please forgive my rudeness."
She bowed deeply: ""I'm truly sorry for ever doubting you. It was wrong of me."
"There's no need for apologies, Malena. Confidence is an unbreakable weapon, but only those who can wield it correctly can achieve such effects."
Anselm picked up his cane and chuckled, "That weapon doesn't suit me. I'm better suited to the doubt you speak of, using it to constantly dissect myself."
Malena nodded thoughtfully, these words that might seem like mystical nonsense to Sitana always allowed her to further understand and perceive... the greatness of the person she had sworn to serve.
"Alright, I can already hear the cheers of the people."
Anselm stood up, his face lighting up with the smile that had earned the admiration of the nobles—so intensely bright and dazzling, yet so warm and approachable.
"It's time to begin the speech that will unite Scarlefrost before the Great Cold Wave arrives."
In another carriage, Sitana, who had been boredly lying on the seat, instantly sprang up at the sound of the door opening outside, nearly kicking the door off its hinges as she burst out of the carriage.
They were currently in a vacant lot outside the central square of Scarletfrost City, heavily guarded by the private army of Earl Hardstone. The fully armored heavy guards exuded a chilling and austere aura, clearly indicating that they were no ordinary soldiers.
Seeing Anselm disembarking from the carriage with his cane, Sitana jumped and waved, shouting, "Hydra! Wait for me!"
The young noble, who always indulged her, indeed stopped and turned his head, smiling gently as he looked at her.
Miss Young Wolf, with a warm and cheerful grin, quickly ran to Anselm's side, then soon turned into a grumbling expression.
"Why did you make me ride alone? There was plenty of room for all of us in the other carriage."
Malena also stepped out of the carriage, her voice cool and devoid of her usual warmth: "You would only bother us, Sitana."
"Tch, even chatting is considered a bother now."
Sitana, surprisingly, also showed no usual respect for Malena, crossed her arms, and turned her head away: "Pretentious!"
Their relationship had become like this since Sitana returned from the Earl Hardstone's mansion.
The reason was simple. When Sitana excitedly rushed back and, against Anselm and Malena's objections, insisted on bursting into the study to announce her big accomplishment—
Malena immediately slapped her across the face.
Unlike the impulsive quarrel between sisters before, this slap... concealed Malena's cold and clear anger.
And for some reason, Malena did not explain the reason for the slap, leading to a severe rift between them that has yet to be mended.
"Alright, quiet down, Sitana."
Anselm looked at Sitana, who was now dressed in a formidable black outfit with a black velvet cloak, and nodded with satisfaction: "Don't you remember? You're coming up with me."
"Oh... ah! I know, of course I know!"
Sitana coughed lightly, trying hard to put on a composed expression: "Don't worry!"
"You will need to get used to the grand spectacles eventually; this is your first time, so do your best."
Anselm patted the girl's arm: "There's no need to be nervous, just stand behind me. If you feel uncomfortable with the crowd, you don't have to look; it's okay to keep your head down."
"I won't, that's too embarrassing," Miss Young Wolf said, hands on her hips. "It would be a disgrace to you, wouldn't it? Having a bodyguard who looks like a quail—everyone would laugh."
Anselm couldn't help but laugh out loud, his joy and lightness genuine: "And what about you?"
"Me? What about me, I won't be showing off my face anyway."
Sitana answered with a matter-of-fact expression: "It's you who everyone talks about all the time, so you've got to be the best, for sure!"
"Since you say that, Sitana."
Anselm responded with a radiant smile to this sincerity: "Then I will be the best."
Sitana stared at Anselm's smiling face for a couple of seconds, then shifted her gaze away:
"...Mm, mm, as long as you have that confidence, I... I'm fine with it."
"Let's go then, Sitana."
Anselm turned and walked towards the long passage formed by two rows of armored soldiers, saying with a meaningful tone:
"Let everyone in Scarletforst get to know both you and me well."
Not picking up on the deeper meaning, Sitana clenched her fist excitedly and swung it forcefully, expressing her determination to Anselm. At the same time, she stuck her tongue out at Malena.
Ble ble ble, are you feeling jealous and angry? Lena you meanie... it's been ages and you haven't even apologized. Once the Great Cold Wave is over, I'm going home and telling Mom and Dad all about it!
And Malena simply watched Sitana's silly antic with an expressionless face, showing no reaction.
Only when her sister turned her head back did she slightly lower her head and slowly close her eyes.
Extinguishing the last bit of... struggle and pain in her eyes.
When she raised her head again and opened her eyes, there was only the bone-chilling rationality.
And as Sitana followed Anselm, she was unaware of the emotional changes that had occurred in her older sister, as she was too preoccupied to care about such things.
The two rows of armored soldiers formed a wall on either side, keeping the frenzied citizens of Scarletfrost at bay. Countless shouts and voices filled her world, making it just as noisy and chaotic, but Sitana felt no discomfort, nor any trace of nervousness.
On the contrary, she almost blended into this surging tide, and even though the praise and adoration were not for her, she felt her heart resonate with it.
A fervent desire burned within the girl's chest.
—She was born to bask in the thunderous waves of adoration.
The beast hidden deep within her soul also roared with excitement, resonating with its master at this very moment. Unknowingly, Sitana entered a state that was hard to describe—those cheers were so close, yet infinitely distant; so deafening, yet as ethereal as if coming from the clouds.
She felt the beyonder element known as aether surging within her, coursing along her spine and flooding her brain. The boundless power that surged through her made the growing she-wolf want to let out a roar.
And just then, a soft whisper came from Anselm, who was walking ahead.
"Keep your emotions in check, Sitana, don't steal the spotlight... Haha, although I wouldn't mind it either."
"... " Sitana was slightly taken aback, almost missing a step following Anselm.
Oh... oh! Right, what am I thinking? This is Hydra's speech, why am I getting so excited that I want to rush up and throw a couple of punches.
As this thought arose due to Anselm's words, an unwilling and angry growl echoed from the depths of Sitana's soul, then subsided into silence. The intense emotions churning within her and the violent power flowing through her body gradually calmed down.
She followed Anselm, step by step, up to the central square's podium.
At this moment, Scarletfrost citizens packed into the square, their shouts grew increasingly uniform:
"HYDRA! HYDRA! HYDRA!"
The people's chants shattered the winter cold, tore through the clouds, and even the earth trembled with this resonance. The howling north wind, filled with awe, carried this name throughout the city and beyond.
On the last sunny day before the Great Cold Wave, the young man who had saved Scarletfrost stood proudly, basking in the heavenly light.
He raised his hand and gently pressed it down.
And so, the sound dissipated, leaving only the thousands upon thousands of eyes, gazing in worship at their savior.
"Citizens of Scarletfrost, subjects of the Empire. It seems I haven't spoken to you like this in a long time."
That clear and gentle voice, now possessing a mature magnetism yet still retaining the last traces of youthful timbre, spread in all directions.
Standing on the podium, Hydra supported himself with one hand on his cane and the other hand behind his back. Facing the tens of thousands of citizens, his first words were like a greeting to a long-lost friend.
"I remember the first words I spoke to you in front of my mansion on the day I went to the Scarletfrost Manor."
With a smile on his face, he spoke gently and tenderly:
"I said, 'I hear your voices.'"
"Then, I executed the Scarletfrost Earl, your former lord."
Anselm held his cane and walked forward, towards the edge of the platform.
He suddenly sighed: "In fact, I regretted it a bit that day."
"Regretting that I shattered his head, causing trouble for the friends who hung him up after."
Laughter of amusement spread through the crowd.
"To be honest, my fellow subjects of the Empire."
This young noble, who spent almost every day in his study, calmly said: "I am not here to boast about my achievements to you, to spread my fame across the North and even the Empire."
"Because I don't care."
Anselm's words caused a slight commotion among the people, but he quickly continued:
"I know there must be those who are puzzled, perhaps commoners, perhaps nobles."
"They might ask—then what are you really after?"
Hydra smiled: "I also know that there will certainly be more people standing up to speak for me, they will say I am kind, I am just, I represent absolute justice and judgment, and are always willing to give everything for me."
He moved the hand that was behind his back to the front, casually pointing at a young man in the crowd.
"Are you willing?" Anselm asked.
The young man who was pointed at froze, standing still for four to five seconds, until the people around him vigorously shook him, he finally reacted, ecstatically shouting hoarsely:
"Yes! Lord Hydra! Morkeith Landcard is willing to give everything for you!"
"And you?"
Anselm casually pointed at another person.
"Me too!" This person's excited roar was even louder, "It's my honor! I am willing to die for you!"
Anselm randomly selected several people in a row, and without exception, they all gave responses that were almost frenzied.
And the people around them, the majority in the square, didn't find anything wrong with it.
They were not afraid of this fervor; on the contrary, they envied, even coveted those who were chosen, envious of the opportunity they had to express their loyalty to the great Hydra.
"See, this is what I have received."
Anselm took another step forward, standing at the edge of the podium, he looked up, his tone not at all excited, only very calm and gratified:
"I have received, all of you."
Everything fell silent.
The citizens in the square, enduring the cold wind, and the nobles in the warm houses, all remained silent.
Until the first shout, that frenzied, almost tearful shout—
"HYDRA!!!"
And so, the majestic peaks crumbled under the mighty tremor of fanaticism, and the calm sea was stirred into a towering tempest by the vision of devotion.
Countless people surged forward, the unceasing waves of the crowd battering the elite armored soldiers guarding the base of the podium. They shouted Hydra's name, like believers calling upon the sacred name of their god, so devout, so frenzied.
"Calm down, please calm down, my fellow citizens."
Anselm gently tapped his cane, his voice still calm and gentle: "I know there will still be those who wonder, what use do I have for you, for these ignorant, impoverished, puny, and meaningless commoners."
The people gradually calmed down, listening to his speech once more.
"Then I will tell him."
Hydra raised his cane and pointed at someone: "I need you to leave Scarletfrost and join my domain, are you willing?"
The same scenario as before, and the response received was, again, an almost frenzied affirmation.
Then, Anselm pointed his cane towards the sky and declared loudly:
"Then, I want to see all those who are willing to leave Scarletfrost and follow me!"
In this instant, long and short, covered in frostbite, delicate and fair, sallow and wrinkled, crippled...
Countless hands were raised high, like a forest of swords, like a dark cloud covering the sky.
Even some of the armored soldiers couldn't help but raise their hands halfway.
Anselm laughed heartily and unrestrainedly: "Now he should know the answer. If all of you, these supposedly useless commoners, follow me and leave Scarletfrost." The young man waved his cane, his passionate voice piercing through the clouds:
"—Then where is this so-called Scarletfrost!"
Cheers, more cheers, unending cheers.
Also standing on the podium, Sitana looked ahead, her eyes, her world, filled only with that one figure.
The girl's cheeks flushed red, and she felt an urge to dash forward, leap onto that person who stirred such mixed feelings in her, and cling to him tightly, never letting go.
Her chest warmed up again, her heart pounding, but this time, it felt completely different from the beginning.
"Hydra..."
Sitana pressed her hand to her chest, bowing her head and exhaling a hot breath.
"...Anselm."
In the lavishly decorated room, several nobles sat together, looking out the window at the young noble who seemed to dominate the entire world.
"This... monster."
A noble's hand holding the teacup trembled incessantly, spilling tea all over the floor: "He is a monster, he is... a devil!"
"...Devil?"
The Hardstone Earl gazed at the figure basking in the sunlight, his eyes filled with a mad fascination.
"No, that is not a devil, absolutely not."
He clenched his teeth, not out of fear, but to suppress the excitement that almost made him tremble.
"That is... a god!"
On the podium, Anselm's voice grew increasingly passionate. Standing at the edge of the stage, he was no longer as elegant as he had been at the beginning. This was not a performance to conquer anyone, but an... uncontrollable catharsis, even for himself.
From the moment he emerged from the most despairing hell, the existence known as Anselm Hydra had a purpose worthy of sacrificing everything for.
Starting from the age of ten, he locked away the advanced knowledge he had seen and the magnificent scenes he had witnessed in the prison of his memory. He began to interact closely with those who considered themselves noble, picking up and learning the foolish rules he once despised, following those ancient, stale, and rotten things day after day, year after year.
Because he knew that the path he wanted to take, the things he wanted to do, were destined to be filled with thorns and sacrifices, not just tangible things, but even abstract concepts—freedom, future, self, conscience... If he couldn't even do this small thing, how could he sacrifice bigger things, how could he face a more brutal reality?
And so he did, for six years without a single flaw, he became the perfect prodigy praised by the nobles, and he also obtained many of the things he needed.
Until now, at this juncture, even if he revealed a slight hint of his true nature, it didn't matter. Anselm decided to give himself a chance to indulge.
—This was a decision he would absolutely not make in his usual self.
"I know that no one is born wanting to live in a dilapidated old house, no one wants to grow up wearing patched clothes, no one wants to endure hunger and cold, no one wants to live so lowly and miserable, trampled upon without meaning, and then die."
Anselm looked at the agitated commoners, his voice suddenly calm.
"But I will not say—as long as you work hard, everything will change."
"I will not say that there are many opportunities in this world, and it is your own fault for not striving."
"I know fate is merciless, yes, I am very aware—"
"Fate... is merciless."
The young Hydra slightly lowered his head, his hand gripping the cane, veins bulging.
"That is not something you can resist just because you want to."
"...Yes, let's just say that's how it is."
He raised his head again, the fire in his eyes burning fiercely and wildly, terrifying some people as if they would be incinerated in an instant, while igniting even greater fervor in others, who were eager to throw themselves into it, willing to become fuel, hoping that the flames would burn through the very horizon!
"Let's just say, I am using you—"
The madness in Hydra's blood took the upper hand without restraint, the usually modest and polite, gentle Anselm disappeared, leaving only the wild beast that had severed eight heads and sought life from death, baring its fangs to the sky!
"Let it be that I am using this to declare war on that damned fate!"
"If He summons the god of death, seeking to steal all your lives through the cold wave, I will make sure you live to scorn His malice and baseness!"
"Citizens of Scarletfrost, subjects of the Empire, all those who are willing to faithfully follow me—"
The beast, losing its reason and flowing with mad blood, roared loudly:
"IF FATE MAKES YOU KNEEL, YOU WILL RESPOND IN MY NAME—I WILL NEVER KNEEL!"
"FOR ANSELM HYDRA COMMANDS ME TO STAND!"
After the roar that echoed through the Scarletfrost City ended, there was a long silence.
No one spoke, no one dared to speak, whether they were fanatics, those who called him a devil or a god, no one dared to utter even a single word, to make a sound.
Anselm staggered back a couple of steps, feeling weak, and supported himself with his cane. After a brief silence, he slightly bowed:
"This is all of me, all of Anselm Hydra."
Without hesitation, he turned and walked down from the podium.
Regaining his reason, he reflected on his own frenzied declaration and couldn't help but let out a light, helpless laugh.
How... unfortunate.
It was just at this moment, just at this timing, just at this juncture, that he made such a fiery and passionate speech.
For a long time, fate had failed to successfully interfere with him, while ignoring him, it delivered a nearly fatal blow.
Such an impassioned and heartfelt speech, how could he continue with his subsequent plans? If he didn't, all the preparations he had made would go to waste. If he did—
How could he face his own heart?
"Do you think... this can defeat me?"
Hydra clenched his cane as darkness glow in his eyes... as if even he himself could be swallowed.
"ANSELM!!!"
An extremely excited cheer came from behind Anselm. As he stepped down the stairs and reached the corner where no one could see, Miss Young Wolf made a flying leap, reenacting her imagined scenario, and clung to Anselm like a koala.
If it weren't for her superb and perfect control of strength, the consequences could have been unpredictable.
"So cool! You were so cool just now! Especially that last line!"
Sitana clung tightly to Anselm, rubbing her face against his neck: "I knew you were a good person, you're the best! You really are the best!"
"...Sitana, calm down, we'll be seen."
Anselm held onto Sitana's wrist, feeling a warmth in his heart.
"I don't care, let them see, so what if they see!"
Although she said that, Sitana still very rarely complied with Anselm's wish and got off him.
"When we get back, tell me about your past stories!"
The girl with rosy cheeks and bright eyes said: "That must be very interesting and amazing, otherwise, how could you be so outstanding at such a young age!"
The past stories...
Interesting... huh?
Anselm let out a soft laugh, and beneath that false smile, the hesitation that had risen in his heart was utterly destroyed.
That really is, too interesting, so interesting that even to this day, every time I think about it, I can't help but laugh.
Yes, what was there to hesitate about? From that moment on, he had already prepared to sacrifice everything.
Anselm Hydra was never a good person; the concept of conscience was probably one of the first things he sacrificed.
And then, he was the greatest malefactor of the Empire.
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