Chapter 19: Of Conspiracies
In Anselm’s study, several maids were packing his luggage.
“Saville,” Anselm said, finishing the last docunt of the day and stretching. “How are those two viscounts?”
“That’s what I was about to report, young master.”
Saville bowed slightly. “Viscount Longbing and Viscount Xiaofeng are showing signs of anxiety, especially Longbing. He believes he can’t wait for you.”
“…Hm?”
Anselm leaned back, tapping the desk lightly. “When was this?”
“Half an hour ago, through your private channel.”
The old man spoke softly. “You were handling Chishuang Territory’s affairs, so I responded on your behalf.”
“Can’t wait for …” Anselm murmured, chuckling. “The world’s absurd, isn’t it, Saville?”
“They fear death from others but crave it from .”
“Because you’re rciful,” Saville replied calmly, his voice certain.
As if “rciful death” were perfectly reasonable to him.
“Then,” Anselm stood, gripping his snake-headed cane, heading to the balcony.
The young noble, whose fa in Chishuang Territory had reached unthinkable heights, smiled. “We can’t keep them waiting. Failing a promise would be a great sha for a Hydra.”
From the balcony, Anselm gazed at the courtyard, where gifts from Chishuang City’s commoners were neatly stacked.
Every day, commoners brought items from their hos.
Anselm would randomly accept so, later returning equivalent trinkets.
For children’s innocent gifts, he’d take them all and respond thoughtfully.
He’d done this since age seven in Hydra territory, delighting in making narrow-minded commoners see Anselm Hydra as kind and benevolent.
Show or bribery, he never hid it, unwavering for nine years.
Anselm relished both fear and reverence and welcod genuine adoration, as he’d told Count Chishuang—a villain who couldn’t be loved wasn’t worthy of the na.
“rry, inform Hitana to prepare to leave… and call Marina for .”
“Yes, master.”
The maid in the study bowed lightly, stepping out to fulfill Anselm’s orders.
In the brief wait, Anselm, rubbing his snake-headed cane, pondered.
He lacked Hitana’s irrational intuition, but his vast mory library offered knowledge from another world, far ahead of this era—comprehensive knowledge.
This accumulated “experience” was far more reliable than Hitana’s immature instincts.
“Death… are you truly confessing your fear to , Viscount Longbing, or covering up to escape?”
Thinking of the tangled sches behind this trip, Anselm’s lips curved upward.
To him, these conspiracies were like a child’s clumsy knot—poorly tied with cheap thread.
Unraveling them required no effort, just a tug to tear them apart. Simple.
But… for his Hitana, chaos was the perfect nourishnt.
Unexpectedly, her first chance for growth arrived so soon.
Anselm had no interest in a Heavenly Wolf Empress fattened like a force-fed duck.
If that were his aim, why go to such lengths to ta this restless young wolf?
“How’s our Miss Hitana progressing, Saville?” Anselm asked.
“…Her.”
Always steady and decisive, Saville rarely hesitated, but now he did. “Her situation is… unique, young master. I’ve never seen a Crystal Stair like hers.”
Transcendents on the Path to Heaven, before reaching the third stage, Throne, lacked the ability to independently draw supernatural essence from the world.
The first stage, Foundation, and the second, Crystal Stair, required specific rituals and tools to harness and absorb supernatural materials.
This made the Empire’s hierarchy as unyielding as an eternal polar iceberg.
Of course, the Path to Heaven wasn’t the only route to transcendence, or the Empire wouldn’t face so many overt and covert rebels.
But the other path carried perhaps an even steeper cost.
And Hitana’s Crystal Stair…
“She was expelled from Tianlu Tower at twelve, four years ago,” Saville said, frowning. “Four years without absorbing any supernatural essence—she should’ve fallen back to Foundation. But from my observations these past days… the opposite is true.”
“Not only has she not regressed, her Crystal Stair’s stability is unprecedented.” Saville glanced at Anselm’s smiling face, sensing his lack of surprise, and let go of his doubts about Hitana’s anomaly. “Though it’s standard physical enhancent—no, her extre physical enhancent isn’t standard—it’s genius-level for a Crystal Stair.”
To soone of Saville’s caliber, “genius” wasn’t just soone with “exceptional” talent.
It was soone with despair-inducing, suffocating qualities, a monster who rendered “effort,” “sweat,” or “dreams” worthless, crushing them to dust.
His “genius” was an undeniable, absolute genius.
Anselm just smiled, saying little. In terms of combat prowess, Hitana was undoubtedly the strongest of the four heroes. Her supernatural talent was but one of her future glories.
The thought only heightened Anselm’s delight.
“Master,” rry’s voice ca after a knock. “Miss Marina and Miss Hitana are here.”
“Co in.”
Anselm didn’t return to his desk but sat on the balcony, watching the sisters approach—one reserved and polite, the other brash and carefree.
Marina wore the dress Hitana—or rather, Yura—picked: a simple pale blue dress with a woolen vest, lending the village girl a sweet purity with a touch of sophistication.
Her snow-white hair braided into a thick plait, she curtsied to Anselm. Under rry’s guidance, Marina’s etiquette was impeccable, a true lady compared to her sister.
“Lord Hydra, what do you need from ?” Marina’s voice was soft, her deanor poised, her expression serene.
But beneath that calm exterior, her heart raced with excitent.
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