Volume 2

Chapter 49 : Anselm’s Gift, Part Six

Ivora, who had seemed disinterested, suddenly had a glint in her eyes.

“This thing…”

She stared intently at the gray bracelet on Mingfuluo’s wrist, unmasked greedy flames burning in her gaze.

“Interesting.”

The Grand Princess chuckled softly: “Was this your idea for her?”

“But crafting it was Mingfuluo’s own ability.”

Anselm gazed at her cute yet coldly elegant face, his lips curving slightly: “I don’t have the skill to make such a thing.”

“Ability, hmph… your little toy does have a rather unique talent in this regard.”

At this, Ivora sneered for some reason: “But she always harbors overly unrealistic, foolish delusions.”

Anselm’s brows lifted slightly: “What did she tell you?”

“What else? An upgraded version of her crazy grandfather’s ideals.”

The woman waved her hand irritably: “Some nonsense about… making alchemical devices for civilian use.”

The young Hydra looked at Mingfuluo, who was crafting arrows for Hitana, his eyes narrowing slightly: “Did she talk about this a lot with you?”

“Not much. She’s smart enough to know I have no interest in such foolishness, so she stopped bringing it up to avoid angering me.”

The Grand Princess lazily rubbed her foot against Anselm’s thigh: “Honestly, I considered wiping out Babel Tower several times. Their value is limited, after all.”

Fate’s hand nearly pushed Babel Tower into the abyss, but what made Ivora abandon that idea?

Anselm gently stroked the smooth, delicate arch of Ivora’s foot.

Her toes were long, the bones at the arch slightly prominent, giving her foot a distinct, elegant line.

“But you didn’t. Why?”

The fiery woman let out a soft, pleased hum: “Because, mmm~ I wanted to see what your prized little toy was capable of. You could say… I spared them for your sake.”

Anselm chuckled lightly: “Should I thank you, then?”

Reclining, Ivora propped her cheek, her seductive, slanted gaze like a fox’s glance, but her charm wasn’t submissive flattery—it was the commanding blaze of one above all.

“Then… keep touching,” she said, her crimson lips curving into an unabashedly desiring smile.

“I like it.”

Anselm continued playing with her delicate foot as she wished, but his mind was elsewhere.

As with taming Hitana, he constantly reviewed past events, analyzing fate’s actions to discern its purpose.

Until he laid bare his intentions to Mingfuluo, declaring he’d turn her into an ideal monster, fate had aimed to destroy Babel Tower and exile Mingfuluo.

Being controlled by Ivora was never good.

Provoking this cruel, tyrannical woman to destroy Babel Tower wouldn’t have been hard, and Anselm couldn’t have wrested it from her.

So, after seizing Babel Tower from Ivora through that game, one of fate’s paths was temporarily blocked.

Moreover, Anselm’s sharp declaration of his plans to Mingfuluo forced fate to shift its focus, prioritizing preventing Mingfuluo from falling into the abyss of rationality and becoming Anselm’s tool.

Up to this point, everything was under Anselm’s control.

Per his original plan, Mingfuluo would either resolve to fight him with rationality, accelerating her descent into a tool devoid of emotion or through frequent contact, like Hitana, grow emotionally dependent on him.

The former was his initial plan, unaltered by Hitana’s influence; the latter was a test he was willing to try due to her presence.

During this, a major disruption occurred—fate unwittingly drove him to overdo his stress relief, which Marina noticed, and without his knowledge, she subtly conveyed this possibility to Mingfuluo.

This link—

“Anselm.”

Ivora’s displeased voice interrupted his thoughts.

She frowned at him: “Ease up on the grip.”

“…You’re treating me like a servant,” Anselm replied with a wry smile.

“We’re equals. If I treat you like a servant, you can treat me like one someday, and I won’t complain.”

Ivora lifted her chin slightly: “That’s fair, right?”

“I’m not interested in playing these games, Ivora.”

“Tch, why are you always so boring when it comes to me?”

The woman irritably kicked at Anselm’s cheek, but he caught her ankle, her pale sole nearly brushing his face.

“Aren’t you the Empire’s famous lady-killer, Mr. Anselm?”

“…I don’t recall ever having that nickname. Three years ago, I was still a child, dear Miss Ivora.”

“Ha! A child?”

Ivora burst into laughter, staring into Anselm’s eyes and licking her lips: “Three years ago—no, even earlier—you were already a devil, Anselm.”

“Is that so?” Anselm tilted his head. “So in your eyes, I’m that wicked, Ivora.”

“Wicked? What’s wrong with being wicked?”

The woman wrapped her legs around Anselm’s neck, her supple waist lifting her torso, bringing her into an intensely suggestive position close to him.

“Compared to that nauseating radiance you had as a child…”

She whispered in his ear: “You now are… utterly irresistible.”

“The Empire falling into your hands is quite a headache, Ivora.”

Anselm sighed: “I don’t know how much work that’ll mean for me.”

“Who says you’ll have to work? You and I can sit on the throne, watching them scramble to please us—wouldn’t that be nice?”

Ivora released Anselm.

At their ideological divergence, her intimacy vanished instantly, her face growing cold, even disdainful, revealing not only her lack of genuine affection for Anselm but also her pure divine species nature.

Or rather… in some ways, Anselm was the anomaly.

Anselm didn’t respond, only watching Hitana draw the bow on the screen and the silent, downcast petite scholar on her floating cannon.

Fate, making Mingfuluo aware of his anomaly, was illogical.

Because it would greatly increase her bias toward him.

After their reunion, Anselm’s elusive, push-and-pull attitude—seemingly abandoning yet needing her, wanting to tame her—gave Mingfuluo an ambiguous, illusory hope, planting the idea that “Anselm cares about me.”

At the peak of this thought, after leaving Zege Mansion and the night they poured out their emotions, Anselm cruelly exposed the irreparable rift between them.

The elusive illusion became a stark fall.

Under this immense contrast, coupled with Marina’s revelation and Mingfuluo’s soul anomaly, no matter how rational, intelligent, or resolute the cold scholar was, she’d descend into utter chaos.

Per Anselm’s current plan and pace… Mingfuluo’s fall was only a matter of time.

Unless this was what fate wanted, replaying what happened with Hitana.

But did you… see me as too merciful?

Anselm mused to himself.

How could I make the same vow to someone who betrayed me as I did to Hitana?

Hitana’s untamed beastly nature lay in the distant future, and until that future arrived, all was possible.

But Mingfuluo’s obsessive pursuit of ideals had defined her life, unchangeable.

Three years ago, he thought he’d broken her fixation, only for it to be in vain.

Even if Mingfuluo fell, he doubted she’d place her ideals below him.

Yet fate’s actions must foresee a chance of success.

After taming Mingfuluo… something even more elusive awaited him.

But for now, dealing with the matter at hand was most important.

“Ivora.”

Anselm suddenly spoke: “You’ve seen enough, haven’t you?”

“…What?” Ivora tilted her head slightly. “Seen enough?”

“I brought Hitana here not just to do you a favor, but to ensure she enjoys herself today.”

The young Hydra wasn’t smiling; his expression, purely calm and almost indifferent, was rare on his face.

“Not for you to watch her like some caged pet.”

Ivora’s eyes narrowed slightly: “So? On my turf, I don’t even have the right to watch your little dog?”

“Just moments ago, you were wondering how to repay me… and now you’re asserting your dominance?”

Ivora was no saint; by human moral standards, she was an utter scoundrel.

But she didn’t care about appearing “moral.”

If anyone dared criticize her on moral grounds, she’d burn their entire family to ashes.

Her sole motivation was to follow her own desires—pure, unadulterated self-interest and dominance.

Fully aware of this, Anselm’s lips twitched: “So, the Callers of the Deep lesser species’ egg—you’ll handle it yourself?”

The only way to sway someone like her was to hit her where it mattered—her interests.

“…”

Ivora was silent for a moment before saying, with great reluctance: “You love your little dog that much?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmph.”

The woman sneered: “I don’t know what’s wrong with your head, but this is good for me. Such a glaring weakness—I’ll find a way to exploit it, Anselm.”

The young Hydra flashed a harmless smile: “You’re welcome to try, Ivora.”

The bright, vibrant room suddenly darkened, as if an all-consuming blackness swallowed everything.

The shadow of the abyss descended.

Then, a blazing light pierced the encroaching gloom, burning and devouring the reality-altering darkness, growing fiercer as it fed on it.

Yet the darkness, with chilling silence opposite the roaring flames, soundlessly annihilated all tangible things.

This eerie struggle lasted an unknown duration—perhaps a mere instant, perhaps an eternity.

At some point, the raging blood-flame and endless darkness vanished.

The clash of those divine forces seemed an illusion; the spacious room remained bright and splendid under the sunlight, unchanged.

Only the black and flame hues in the Hydra and Flame-Feasting Royalty’s eyes bore witness to what had transpired.

Whoosh—

When Hitana released the taut bowstring, the sharp triangular arrowhead tore through the air, its piercing whistle echoing through the jungle.

The prey, curled in its lair, reacted instantly, opening its eyes, but it was too late.

“Wuiiii!!”

A shrill wail resounded through the forest, startling a flock of birds. Hitana pumped her fist, cheering: “Perfect! Again!”

Mingfuluo handed her another arrow.

Hitana licked her lips, drawing the bow fully.

As branches, vines, and leaves parted, revealing a strange creature, she fired again.

Thud—

The second arrow pierced the creature’s head, its slightly oversized body collapsing with a thud.

Mingfuluo raised her bracelet-wearing hand, and the two arrows embedded in the creature’s body and head disintegrated, turning into black particle streams that swiftly returned to her bracelet.

“This is too convenient!”

Hitana, amazed, studied Mingfuluo’s bracelet, ignoring the fallen prey: “It can even be retrieved like that… Why haven’t you used something this amazing before, Mingfuluo?”

“First, as I said, it’s just a prototype, an incomplete one at that; second, I only recently created it.”

A glint flashed across the petite sorceress’s glasses:

“Damage rate of eleven percent… it’s too unstable.”

She murmured: “Just two simple enchanted arrows, and the damage rate in combat is so high. The strength needs improvement.”

“I suggest we gather some suitable materials here.”

Mingfuluo said to Hitana: “Nidhogg can’t sustain your consumption, Hitana. If you need arrows… I’ll have to use local materials to meet your demands.”

“Got it… I don’t mind, just don’t take too long.”

Hitana scratched her head: “I don’t even know how long we can stay here.”

“It won’t take long. The corpse of the magical beast you killed can be recycled. Magical beasts are excellent alchemical materials.”

“Oh! Easy enough, I’ll bring it to you now!”

Hitana handed the bow to Mingfuluo and eagerly dashed to her fallen prey, first inspecting her trophy.

Green-bodied, bipedal, with broad wing-like forelimbs and a large head, its long, sac-like tongue was striking.

Hitana had never seen such a creature.

A pungent toxic smell emanated from its sac-like tongue, likely its venom gland… perfect for making poison arrows for Mingfuluo!

Thinking of the hunting journey ahead, the girl’s mood soared.

Starting from scratch, crafting all the tools and weapons herself, was kind of fun!

—Even if she wasn’t the one crafting.

Humming a cheerful tune, Hitana prepared to hoist the corpse to Mingfuluo.

But the moment she reached out to touch it, a bone-chilling dread surged from her tailbone to her skull, making her bristle and leap back over ten meters.

“That was…”

Miss Wolf shivered, staring at the goosebumps on her arm, incredulous: “A threat…”

“A death… threat?”

The motionless corpse suddenly twitched.

The twitching grew violent, horrifying, making the sprawled body jerk as if jumping.

In this eerie convulsing, a deep sea-blue… rapidly covered the entire corpse.

Translucent tendrils, like flesh buds or… tentacles, sprouted one by one, faster and faster, bursting through the corpse’s skin, writhing wildly in the air, sending chills down the spine.

“Damn it…”

Watching the tentacle-covered, mutating monster, Hitana muttered, shivering: “What kind of creature is this?”

“Damn… it…”

The girl’s expression froze.

Because she heard… the monster, with its tattered, tentacle-filled maw, making sounds, repeating her words!

“What kind… of creature… is this?” it stammered in a garbled voice.

Hitana instinctively stepped back, and over ten meters away, the tentacle-ridden, fully mutated monster mirrored her, stepping back.

“…Bastard!”

Snapping out of it, Hitana’s face darkened—she, the mighty Hydra’s strongest Contract Head, was scared by this nonsensical, grotesque thing?

A cruel, savage aura burst forth, and in that instant, the monster’s countless tentacles froze for nearly a second, then—

It turned and fled without hesitation, bolting away.

“…”

The overwhelming sense of mockery ignited Hitana’s fury.

“You ugly freak… you’re dead!”

The wolf roared: “I’ll tear you to shreds and boil you to mush! Mingfuluo, follow me!”

With that, she chased the monster’s trail without waiting for Mingfuluo.

But Mingfuluo didn’t follow immediately.

“Miss Mingfuluo.”

Like an iris, pure and beautiful, the white-dressed princess appeared behind the rigid Mingfuluo, chuckling softly:

“The time has come. You must fulfill… your promise.”