Chapter 332: Revenge, Continue Southward

When Envoy Perry woke up, he found himself lying in a tent. The marks on his wrists still throbbed with pain, but the ropes had already been untied.

He struggled to lift his head as the tent flap was pulled aside, and a figure walked in against the light.

“You’re awake?”

Ansu glanced at him and said casually, “Since you’re awake, you can leave.”

Envoy Perry froze.

“?”

Seeing him motionless, Ansu raised an eyebrow. “What, are you waiting for me to treat you to a feast? I can’t prepare dishes as lavish as those of the viscount or the mayor here.”

“No, no...” Envoy Perry quickly waved his hands, his gaze nervously scanning the several elderly mages standing outside the tent. “You... you’re not going to kill me?”

Ansu countered, “Why would I kill you? Do I have a grudge against you?”

Perry’s expression changed like the flipping of a page; one second it was filled with tension, the next it was replaced by a smile of profound gratitude. “Thank you, sir... Truly, thank you!”

Ansu waved him off, his tone becoming a bit more serious. “Right, remember to go back and tell Duke Berry to catch the moles immediately.”

“The Alliance is currently crawling with demons. Given how you’ve been penetrated like a sieve, don’t even dream of defeating the Loyalist faction.”

Perry nodded in confusion, a hint of curiosity flashing in his eyes. “Sir... are you actually on Duke Berry’s side?”

A friendly smile appeared on his face as he added tentatively, “May I ask how to address you, Master Mage? If there is an opportunity, I could introduce you to the duke personally—”

“I’m on no one’s side,” Ansu interrupted him impatiently. “Now, get lost!”

Perry immediately shut his mouth and turned to flee the tent.

His pace was so fast it was as if some monster were chasing him.

The tent grew quiet as Celia’s figure slowly manifested beside Ansu, her eyes filled with curiosity.

“You don’t seem to have much hostility toward Duke Berry. Do you know that duke?”

Ansu shook his head. “Of course not.”

His gaze fell on the gloomy horizon outside the tent, but he was secretly thinking to himself... In the original plot, it was this very Duke Berry who ultimately overthrew the Novalon Empire.

After the South turned into a living hell, Duke Berry raised his banners in rebellion and eventually captured the Eternal City of Saint Milton—the city that claimed it would 'never fall.' This vast empire came crashing down beneath his feet.

The character of Duke Berry was actually on relatively good terms with the protagonist's party in the plot; he was the kind of important NPC who would hand out quests at critical junctures.

Ansu indeed had no ill will toward him, nor did he have any intention of killing him and letting the history he knew so well spiral completely out of control.

Celia watched Ansu’s profile as he sank into thought, her deep purple eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Another secret he can't talk about?

Hmph...

A moment later, the two stepped out of the tent and walked toward another one nearby.

The atmosphere here was entirely different from the previous one.

Viscount Lorick was thrown on the ground, bound hand and foot, with dried bloodstains on his face. He had clearly been beaten quite a bit just now.

Hearing footsteps, he struggled to lift his head. The moment he saw Ansu and Celia, he began to plead repeatedly.

“Mercy! Mercy, Master Mage! I can pay a ransom, as much as you want, just don’t kill me—!”

But Ansu ignored him, turning instead to look at Alvin and the others.

The several mages from the Alchemical Society were looking at the viscount with eyes full of pure hatred.

Especially the female mage whose husband had been framed and killed by the viscount; her clenched fists were trembling slightly, her eyes were red, and an undisguised killing intent surged within her pupils.

They could finally have their revenge.

Ansu spoke directly: “The viscount is yours to deal with.”

Viscount Lorick’s pleading expression was instantly replaced by terror. He began to struggle desperately, screaming at the top of his lungs, “No! No! I am a noble! I am a noble!!”

A burst of stifled laughter rang out in the tent.

Seeing the people from the Alchemical Society closing in like wolves, Viscount Lorick’s mind fractured into near-uncontrolled panic. “Get away! I am the heir to the Lorick family! You commoners dare touch me! The Lorick family will never forgive you...!”

Ansu gave Alvin a meaningful look before he and Celia left the tent.

Immediately, agonizing, heart-wrenching screams echoed from behind them.

...

The matter of Nitre Town was essentially concluded.

The pollution source beneath the old well had been thoroughly cleaned out by the cult, but Ansu knew in his heart that this thing was merely a common node. The true source of the pollution was even further south.

To stop this bizarre mana plague, they had to continue southward and find the true origin that the demons called the 【Filthy Heart】.

Alvin stayed behind with the members of the Alchemical Society. As Ansu had instructed, he would recruit more members into the Magic Mutual Aid Association, using Nitre Town as a base to radiate influence across the South.

Once the forces of the north and south were integrated in the future, the “Continental Magic Association” of Ansu’s vision would no longer be just a plan on paper.

Before their departure, Alvin stood at the town entrance and bowed deeply to this future leader of the magic world.

Ansu glanced at him from the carriage window and nodded slightly in farewell.

The carriage team set off once again, continuing their journey south.