Novel Full Chapter 32: Domination of the Serpent
Chapter 32: Domination of the Serpent
An image crystal, modified by Ansel’s father, the greatest alchemist in the world, possessing twelve special effects such as breath concealment and existence alteration, was presented.
When Ansel revealed this object, the elderly man in the communication remained expressionless, but the severely injured Baron of Howling Wind, lying on the ground, turned deathly pale.
Question: If a deranged individual, who could kill you on the spot, approached you without regard for noble dignity, proposing a necromancer’s examination of a corpse, and your plan was likely to fail with only three days remaining, what would you choose to do, given that you possess a means to contact a savior?
Undoubtedly, the previous night, the Baron of Howling Wind had ——
“Your Grace! Hydral demands that I find a necromancer to examine the body of Baron Iceberg, giving me only three days. What should I do?!”
In the image projected by the crystal, as soon as the Baron of Howling Wind spoke, Seraphina lost her cool.
… You are so amusing, Baron, foolish as a pig! If I were the old man, I would simply let Hydral finish you off.
Of course, this is the difference between Seraphina and the Grand Duke.
The Duke of Gray Tower looked at Ansel with a puzzled and bewildered expression: “Little Hydral, what is the meaning of showing me this cryptic recording? There are thirteen grand dukes in the empire; is it possible that he contacted me? Moreover…”
The old man set down his teacup, chuckling heartily, seemingly finding the scene quite amusing: “How could a baron possibly communicate directly with a grand duke? Little Hydral, you must not underestimate us.”
Behind the small round-framed glasses, the wrinkled, aged eyes narrowed slightly: “My busy daily life cannot accommodate the trivial matter of a baron’s life or death, little Hydral.”
It was not a reluctant denial, but rather an almost instantaneous and unhesitating response, devoid of logical flaws.
The Duke of Gray Tower’s statement was purely rational.
In any case, Seraphina was baffled, feeling as though there was no issue with his argument.
Ansel merely smiled, not pausing to think, and said without hesitation: “Such an answer may sadden the Baron of Howling Wind, Your Grace.”
“Oh? Should I feel sorry for that?”
“No, of course not, because you know he will not bite back at this moment.”
Ansel spread his hands: “I understand these nobles with a ‘warrior’s spirit’ all too well. They are merely bandits and sadists who plunder and kill everywhere, delighting in capturing victims and torturing them in the dungeons of their castles, yet they always believe themselves to be extraordinary figures—”
“‘I would rather be killed by a pure-blooded noble like the Grand Duke than die at the hands of that mad Hydral,’ the Baron of Howling Wind, with such thoughts, would never slander you out of contempt, would he?”
“How strange,” the young man sighed. “Although both you and I regard his life as insignificant, he chooses to support Your Grace instead of accepting my benevolence.”
The old man, sipping his hot tea, smiled as if he found the topic quite interesting: “That is because he has no chance to understand you. You are indeed a benevolent child, little Hydral—of course, I only agree with your benevolence. As for our baron friend… do you intend to execute him before me? Although I do not know what crime he committed, please do not frighten an old man like me.”
No one cared about the fate of the Baron of Howling Wind—perhaps Seraphina was an exception, as she was eager to know the ultimate fate of this despicable noble out of schadenfreude.
“… Your Grace,” Ansel sighed, “if possible, I would be willing to chat with you like this all day, but you have matters to attend to, don’t you?”
The Duke of Gray Tower agreed, raising the scepter in his other hand: “Its weight always burdens my heart and mind.”
“Then I shall not waste any more of your time.”
Ansel changed his posture, leaning back lazily in the large chair while conversing with the Duke.
“Red Frost territory, I have no interest in it.”
“…”
This time, the Grand Duke did not smoothly continue Ansel’s words but paused briefly before laughing: “I know, after all, it is the domain of the Red Frost family, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Ansel propped his cheek with one hand, smiling, “but according to imperial law, families of equal rank to the Count of Red Frost within the Red Frost territory have the right to temporarily manage the territory’s affairs when the Red Frost family fails to select an heir in a timely manner.”
In truth, within a vast domain, it is exceedingly rare for multiple nobles of equal rank to reside for extended periods.
Already a count, rather than a minor noble such as a viscount or baron, why not accept one’s own expansive fiefdom instead of crowding together with other counts, being suppressed within another’s territory? Even viscounts and barons seldom station themselves permanently in others’ lands.
Yet, in the Red Frost territory, such an exceptional situation arose: the Count of Stoneheart, also a count, did not stay in his own domain but resided in the Red Frost territory for a full seven years.
Moreover, recently, he has grown somewhat close to Ansel.
“Regrettably, although the Count of Red Frost has, hmm… numerous concubines, he has only one eldest son and no close relatives of the same generation. Coincidentally, this eldest son has gone missing. This presents quite a predicament, Duke.”
The young Hydral spoke leisurely, “You must have been unable to contact him for some time now, haven’t you?”
The Duke of Gray Tower gently caressed his exquisite teacup and suddenly laughed, “Would little Hycral be willing to help Red Frost territory find its original master?”
“That’s hard to say; the vast northern lands make it difficult to find people.” Ansel shook his head, but soon joked, “However, perhaps after I leave, the heir of the Red Frost family might just reveal himself?” .
After about four or five seconds of silence, the telecrystal’s projected image transmitted the Duke of Gray Tower’s laughter.
It grew increasingly hearty, louder, and more carefree. 𝑖𝘦.𝘤𝑜𝘮
“Splendid, truly splendid… You are indeed his masterpiece, little Ansel.”
The old man exclaimed in awe, “I was wondering why you only stripped Cantrell of his title (*Cantrell is the name of Count of Red Frost), rather than revoking the entire Red Frost family’s noble status. I initially thought it was because Ulric had dealt with Cantrell’s son, but it turns out you were waiting for this moment, weren’t you?”
In the empire, the weight of an individual’s noble title and a family’s noble qualifications are entirely different.
Severe crimes can strip a person of their title, but abolishing an entire family’s honor according to imperial law is extremely difficult. Thus, the empire’s nobility has become increasingly decadent and incompetent, always producing scoundrels, yet the protection left by their ancestors still shields the nobility.
Therefore, the nobles are so fearful of Hydral.
Because when Hydral says he will kill your entire family, he truly means it, and most of the time, they always choose to kill your entire family.
Ansel did not inherit his father’s authority, but he could still find reasons to pin the Count of Red Frost’s misdeeds equally on every member of the Red Frost family, then kill them all. If anyone objects, he could bring up his mad father, who not only killed entire families but also turned them into alchemical potions, letting the empire’s most terrifying monster stand up for him.
Or, he could appeal to the great emperor for sympathy — the entire empire’s upper-class nobility circle knows that the great emperor has an abnormally strong fondness for the young Ansel, abnormal enough to give rise to some extremely dangerous thoughts.
In short, Ansel could have killed the entire Red Frost family, but he did not. To the Duke of Gray Tower’s pleasant surprise, Ansel did not do so out of fear or to save face for anyone.
Instead, he was waiting for this moment, waiting for their conversation.
If all the chess pieces were wiped out and all operations destroyed, the Duke of Gray Tower would have no reason to pay attention to Ansel.
But now, not only must he carefully consider the Count of Stoneheart, who has been struggling stationed in the Red Frost territory for so long, or rather, the one behind him … The Duke of Ironblade, must also consider Ansel’s demands.
This young Hydral, only sixteen years old and without any pact head, managed to obtain the maximum benefit he needed by utilizing the struggle between the two grand dukes in just over a month of venturing deep into the northern lands, with only a group of servants, without using any excessive violence or directly leveraging power.
How could the Duke of Gray Tower not admire him?
Now, he has begun to wonder, what kind of request this extraordinary Hydral will make.
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