"Cease... cease support?" The baron looked blankly at Ansel, but the mont their eyes t, he dared not utter another word. He nodded vigorously, "Understood! I will imdiately, imdiately cease all support for that wretched village! All policies will also be cancelled!"
Ansel nodded and sighed lightly, "Seraphina has disappointed sowhat. She needs to learn a lesson."
This clear indication made the nobles understand their next course of action. They had long been displeased with the rural commoners. If it weren't for Ansel's sake, why would they give so much to those troublemakers? Commoners should be gratefuI for their re existence!
"Of course, there's no rush to do this," Ansel chuckled, "Let's give it... hmm... three or four days."
"Then, there's the next matter."
The sight of Gleipnir transforming into a crimson-black whip in Ansel's hand turned all the nobles pale.
"Over the course of our collaboration, I believe you all understand that I am a very easy person to get along with."
"A person who abides by the rules."
Ansel, looking down and caressing the cold, nacing edge of his weapon, spoke in a warm and passionate voice, as if he were your closest friend.
"Don't make such a face, my noble bloodlines."
Ansel laughed happily, casually waving the whip in his hand, "I believe you all understand my principle — taking a life is a luxury to ."
"As long as one exists, they inevitably have value. To take a life is to desecrate and waste this value. I neither wish nor enjoy doing such a thing."
The nobles, of course, understood Ansel's character and style. Precisely because of this, they were even more terrified, utterly terrified.
After the incident at Howling Wind Castle, Ansel took away the Barons of Iceberg and Howling Wind. The forr was sent by Ansel into the Emperor's [Black Matrix], a place said to be a hundred tis more despairing than hell; the latter, as a third-stage extraordinary being, was likely to have beco a material for the contemporary Hydral, the great alchemist. As for whether he is alive or dead, or even if he still looks "human", is unknown.
Ansel of Hydral's emphasis on "value", is a terrifying cruelty that makes all the nobles shudder.
Being granted death, by this young Hydral with a warm smile, is indeed a great kindness.
"Killing is a very inefficient, luxurious, wasteful act," Ansel sighed, "I also despise death for the sa reason."
"Although you may think that those poor people, like weeds, even if they all freeze to death, will grow back next year, are worthless."
"But in my eyes--"
The whip began to lengthen, slowly moving around the necks of the nobles.
"They also have their value and role, and... it's not small."
"During this severe cold wave, I reached an understanding with the Count of Stoneheart and all of you. I thought this understanding was unquestionable, but so people... betrayed my trust."
This statent made so nobles' faces turn extrely pale.
In fact, although there were many terrifying ice corpses in front of Ansel's mansion in Red Frost City after the severe cold wave, as Marlina said, "there weren't as many as expected."
The Count of Stoneheart had a good grasp of the situation. The death rate of the poor in the outer city area was only about 40%, and the commoners who could barely make a living basically did not die.
This is very rare in the severe cold wave in the North, especially in the Red Frost territory, which never cares about the life and death of the poor. As Ansel said before, whenever a rare severe cold wave cos, the nobles will let those "city-ruining" poor people freeze to death directly as a way to clean up the garbage. After all, there will be people filling in after a while, because the fertility of the northern people is very strong, and the terrifying natural disaster of the severe cold wave does not co every year. In the past, it almost always appeared once every fifteen to twenty years.Only in the past twenty years, it appeared three ti.
Most nobles, under Ansel's "instruction", managed to get by, basically keeping the death rate of the poor at about 50%, and so thoughtful ones even specifically distributed useful coal to strong laborers.
But a very small number... so were too stingy, too stupid, thinking that Ansel was just talking, and really just casually dealt with it, letting the severe cold wave almost "clean up" the poor population of their territory.
"I regret this very much," Ansel sighed like this, "Count Stoneheart, do you think I should forgive them?"
The man sitting on Ansel's right laughed, "That depends on their sincerity. Your tolerance is not a cheap thing."
"Lord Hydral!"
Soone imdiately knelt on the ground, knocking his head with a bang, "Forgive ... please forgive ! My property, my everything, I am willing to dedicate to you! Please forgive my stupidity, forgive my stupidity!"
The commoners under this nobleman probably wouldn't think that the beast who was domineering, despised people, and levied heavy taxes would kneel like a dog in front of a young man, begging for forgiveness in the most humble and unbearable posture.
Nobles always value their dignity, but what is dignity in the face of the terror brought by Hydral?
This young Hydral has proven himself. He used the death of the Count of Red Frost and the "value" of so many people to prove his majesty.
When necessary, he will be a perfect collaborator; when taboo is violated, he will be a devil you never want to face.
"Why be so humble, Baron Herewood?" Ansel looked down at him, his expression full of pity, "Do you see as so extrely cruel, murderous devil in your eyes?"
If it's just extrely cruel, then we wouldn't be so afraid. But this sentence, Baron Herewood, and the other two nobles who also knelt down to beg for rcy, dared not say it.
"Let's do this."
Ansel stood up and said generously, "I am willing to give you a chance."
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