A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 31: Hydral and Grand Duke

Why did Ansel cared nothing about that sorcerer? Naturally, as a qualified assassin, as he saw the situation as hopeless, he surely had fled immediately.

Ansel did not need to do anything, as someone else would handle the remaining assassins for him.

After finishing his lesson with Seraphina, Ansel approached the exhausted and battered Baron of Howling Wind with concern, "Are you alright, Your Excellency?"

"... I am fine, thank you for your assistance, Lord Hydral." The poor Baron forced a smile with great difficulty.

"It seems you have not been critically injured, which is good," Ansel nodded in satisfaction. "Although I do not mind using some potions to keep you alive, it is best to avoid unnecessary waste."

Without waiting for the Baron's response, Ansel kindly continued, "Please contact the Duke of Gray Tower for me, Your Excellency."

The man's face displayed a brief, yet evident stiffness that even Seraphina could detect. Lowering his head and coughing up blood, he spoke wearily, "The Duke? Lord Hydral, how could I possibly contact him? You—"

"Your Excellency, your feeble struggle is now meaningless to me."

Ansel interrupted the Baron, his tone still gentle, "Your value lies solely in allowing my Seraphina to reacquaint herself with the world of extraordinary beings in a formal manner."

"If you had delayed this assassination, you could have lived a few more days. Unfortunately, you could not even wait that long, so I must end this journey prematurely."

He sighed with a hint of sadness, "My maids put in a great deal of effort to pack my luggage. To be honest, returning so soon makes me feel as if I have let them down."

A long silence fell over the chaotic scene caused by the assassination attempt.

This chapter upload first at NovelUsb.Com

Ansel's voice was not loud, so Seraphina, who remained in her original position, did not hear what he said. However, she could sense the intense... emotional turmoil emanating from the Baron of Howling Wind.

Despair and... anger?

"I am not quite sure what you mean," he tried to conceal his surging emotions. "So, you intend to..."

The man's face twitched as he raised his head slightly, his eyes filled with malice as he stared at Ansel, "Intend to, bestow upon me your... mercy?"

"Mercy? No, no, no... Baron, you no longer have that opportunity."

Without warning, Ansel raised his hand and swung Gleipnir. The four rotating blades on the whip embedded themselves into the Baron's ankles and hip bones, causing him to scream in agony and collapse to the ground.

The kind and tolerant Hydral was now expressionless.

"You have betrayed my mercy."

"Therefore, you must face punishment—"

His cold demeanor quickly melted away, replaced by a warm and pleasant smile.

The golden-haired youth bent down and whispered into the Baron's ear:

"A punishment unrelated to imperial law or moral righteousness, solely to earn my forgiveness." "Well, I actually do not need your help to contact the Duke of Gray Tower. I have his contact information."

Ansel straightened up, smiling as he admired the Baron's pitiful state.

"I just wanted to see what expression you would make at that moment."

He clapped his hands lightly, his tone cheerful, "A truly delightful finale, Your Excellency."

Compared to the Count of Red Frost, the Baron of Howling Wind seemed more tolerant. However, that did not mean he was better than his superior.

On the contrary... the Count's madness stemmed from his quick realization of his true predicament, while the Baron still clung to a glimmer of hope in that Grand Duke.

"Seraphina," Ansel suddenly called out while standing in front of the Baron, "Bring my chair and coat."

The silver-haired girl scratched her collar-bound neck, not understanding Ansel's intentions but complied, bringing the large chair and coat he used while fishing.

"Are we just going to do nothing?" she asked, puzzled. "Even if his guards are useless, they should be arriving soon. How will we explain ourselves?"

"I rarely waste time, Seraphina," Ansel calmly sat down, gesturing for her to take out the telecrystal from her pocket. "So, I have already taken care of the problem you mentioned."

"..." Seraphina's eyelids twitched as she handed the telecrystal to Ansel, thinking that no matter how capable he was, he always liked to boast. He spent almost all day with her, so when did he find the time to handle so many matters? Could he split himself into multiple beings?

As the young girl muttered under her breath, a faint gray light began to flicker within the telecrystal in Ansel's hand. Soon, a three-dimensional image of a massive gray tower emerged, which, after a brief shimmer, transformed into a neatly groomed, amiable, and vigorous elderly man.

He sported a mustache and wore a pair of small round glasses, exuding a strong scholarly aura. The background appeared to be a study or perhaps an office.

"I didn't expect you to contact me so suddenly, dear little Hydral," said the most powerful grand duke of the northern, raising his cup of hot tea. "What brings you here?"

He addressed Ansel without honorifics, not even appending "Lord" before his name, and even using "little" as a prefix.

His attitude towards Ansel reflected a stark contrast to the attitudes of other nobles.

Ansel responded differently to the grand duke as well.

The young man bowed his head slightly, "My apologies for the long absence, Your Grace. Our last contact was four years ago."

"More precisely, four years, six months, and five days," the Duke of Gray Tower reminisced with a sigh.

"Back then, you were but an innocent, inexperienced child seeking my guidance on forbidden magic. Time has flown by."

Ansel smiled, "Indeed, Your Grace, time has been unkind to us all."

"Yes, time has been unkind to us all," the old man lamented for a moment before gently inquiring, "So, what is the purpose of your call this time? Is it still about magical knowledge? Please, feel free to ask."

"No, I wish to retrieve something from you," Ansel replied.

"Oh?" The Duke of Gray Tower expressed surprise, "I don't recall taking anything from you, little Hydral."

"Perhaps the life, soul, or something else of... the Baron of Iceberg?" Ansel spoke politely, "I have already claimed it, and he has agreed."

"Really? And who might this Baron of Iceberg be?"

The old man still feigned ignorance, "Although I can be a bit stingy, I would never steal from a young person, let alone a mere baron."

The incapacitated Baron of Howling Wind on the ground showed a glimmer of hope.

Indeed, Ansel had no evidence, no proof that he, and the Baron of Iceberg, had any connection with the Duke of Gray Tower.

As long as the grand duke denied it, what could Ansel do?

Then, Ansel pulled another item from his wolf fur cloak pocket: an image crystal.

"Would you like to see what this crystal contains, Your Grace?" The young Ansel smiled, calmly revealing his trump card.

In the brief silence, Seraphina was utterly baffled.

— Where had he conjured this item? When she had checked his pocket earlier, there had been nothing but the telecrystal.