A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Seraphina looked incredulously at Helen, while Flamelle, after a brief pause, inquired softly, "And what if I were to affirm your supposition?"

"I... from my perspective, I support your decision."

The Empress is the sole possible threat to Ansel; should this menace be eliminated, Ansel would attain true and complete freedom. No longer would she need to exhaust her wits in devising a weapon potent enough to slay a deity, nor would Ansel have to forsake his ideals under duress.

Yet...

A thought surfaced in Helen's mind.

But is this truly what Father desires?

She recalled Ansel's gaze upon Flamelle, pondered the recent events, and questioned once more—Is witnessing Mr. Flamelle slay the Empress truly Father's wish?

Is such an apocalyptic war, capable of toppling continents, genuinely Father's aspiration?

"Yet... from Father's perspective."

Helen looked earnestly into Flamelle's eyes and declared, "Mr. Flamelle, you might think me presumptuous, but I believe... Father would not wish for you to commit such an act."

"And if not so," Flamelle inquired with interest, "how would you propose to extricate Ansel from his current peril?"

—Both divine beings are short on time, and all fifth-stage beings await the fall of the current deities in mutual combat, to then conspire in extinguishing the unascended divine progeny, severing the divine lineage.

On top of this, the Empress might covet Ansel, and Evora regards him as a formidable foe, with irreconcilable differences.

In such circumstances, what can be done to resolve Ansel's predicament?

Helen could not conceive a solution; she could only respond with feeble hope: "There will always… be a… way."

"'There will always be a way' can be a cowardly evasion in the mouths of some, but in the mouths of others... it signifies unyielding perseverance."

Flamelle smiled, "I believe you belong to the latter, little Helen. I acknowledge your conviction, but..."

"But why would I truly engage in a deadly struggle with Ephesande?"

The man laughed heartily, "Rest assured, such an event is impossible. Do not fret over this matter. Resolving the troubles my child cannot is my duty."

He responded with a booming voice, his handsome visage alight with confident exuberance, betraying no hint of a mind plunged into madness.

Whenever it concerns Ansel, Flamelle always exhibits such lucidity:

"Is this not a father's duty?"

Elsewhere, Ansel entered the fourth-floor floral chamber, where his mother Annelisa was delicately arranging a bouquet amidst a vibrant array of flowers. The moment Ansel stepped into the chamber, she turned her head, exclaiming with joy:

"Ans, what brings you here... Oh my!"

Madam Hydral, eager to embrace her son, stumbled over a vase, nearly falling. Ansel, observing the scattered vase and flowers, sighed in resignation and approached Annelisa to help tidy the mess.

"Father says he wishes to take you aboard the Nostrom for a while," Ansel murmured, "He sent me to bid you farewell."

"What farewell... it sounds as though I shan't return," Annelisa remarked with slight displeasure, "Mel really has a way with words... Well, you know how he detests loneliness, why else would he enjoy Lawrence's company? I'll just stay with him for a bit, and once Mel has finished with his secretive project, I'll be back."

She glanced at her son's handsome profile and suddenly chuckled, reaching out to pinch his cheek, "If you grow lonely, you can always come to find me aboard the Nostrom."

"...There's no need for that."

Annelisa, uncharacteristically not indulging in her whims, replied with a gentler tone, "That's good then. Even in my absence, you won't feel lonely, Ans."

Ansel paused in his arrangement of the flowers.

"Mother," he emphasized slightly, "You just mentioned that father has a way with words ."

"Hahaha, I merely think that little Seraphina and little Helen... and many more will gather around you in the future. I'm not speaking ill, you know."

Madam Hydral snorted and lifted her chin proudly, "I am extremely averse to death and pain! In the past, Mel would ask me to adventure, but unless it was absolutely safe, I wouldn't budge. How could anything happen?"

She looked at Ansel, who remained silent, blinked her eyes, and softened her tone slightly.

"So, Ans, you surely won't be lonely in the future, right?"

"…Perhaps."

"No, don't say 'perhaps', that won't do!" Annelisa stared at him intently.

Ansel was silent for a moment, then sighed helplessly, "When I feel lonely, I will come to you. Is that satisfactory?"

Annelisa just wanted this answer, wanting her increasingly independent son to rely on her, and Ansel was well aware of this.

But this time, he heard his mother say,

"No, that's not it, Ansel."

Annelisa cradled Ansel's cheeks, her golden hair shimmering from her temples.

"What I want to hear is that you will never be lonely, whether I am there or not."

Ansel and his mother looked at each other for a while, then he suddenly removed her hands, calmly responding, "Why are you suddenly discussing such a serious topic with me? Has something grave occurred?"

This question stunned Annelisa for a moment, then quickly cleared her eyes, "Nothing serious has happened... Wait! What do you mean, Ans! Just because I'm discussing a serious topic, does it mean something terrible has happened? I am going to be angry now!"

Ansel, composed, adjusted the vase for Annelisa, "I've said my greetings, so I'll be leaving now, Mother."

"You—go on, go on, stop bothering me."

Madam Hydral huffily sat back amidst the flowers, arms crossed, not looking at Ansel as he prepared to leave the floral chamber.

But as Ansel was about to step out and close the door, Annelisa suddenly turned her head, her smile warm and radiant,

"Ans! When you and Mel have time, let's go see the flowers together again, shall we?"

"…"

Ansel paused, not responding, and simply closed the door.

But as he tilted his head and saw through the door crack his mother's accommodating and tender expression at the last moment, he still bowed his head and softly replied through the crack,

"Alright, Mother."

"Promise, okay!" Annelisa peered through the crack, waving vigorously.

"Promise, Mother."

The young Hydral closed the door and walked away.

This frequently traversed corridor, in his eyes at this moment, inexplicably stretched out to an immeasurable length.

His father had acquired the final material, and Helen's taming had also reached its conclusion.

Ansel of Hydral walked on, passing through a warm patch of sunlight, then abruptly paused at a concealed juncture untouched by the sun's rays.

For below the suspended walkway, he saw Seraphina and Helen sitting side by side, seemingly in deep discussion.

Fate, success, and failure.

In the predetermined future he had witnessed, and in the unknown future he was about to face, the most critical turning point was imminent.

Ansel had long been waiting, fully prepared, and... resolved.

The young Hydral withdrew his gaze, not lingering in the sunlight but decisively crossing the boundary between light and dark, stepping into the boundless shadows.

"...So, I plan to first comfort Ansel like this, hey... hey! Are you even listening to me? I'm being so generous, sharing with you—"

A flushed Seraphina was chattering into Helen's ear, while the latter, looking up thoughtfully, retracted her gaze and turned to Seraphina after a moment of contemplation:

"No, this matter... you should handle it yourself, Miss Seraphina."

"What, what?"

"In the matter of pleasing Father, you possess abilities far surpassing mine—do not misunderstand, I am not belittling your worth... The ability to provide Father with complete emotional solace and relaxation is something I also wish to have."

"It's just that..."

Helen looked at her hands and whispered softly, "It's just that, this really isn't suitable for me."

Would Mr. Flamelle truly choose to kill the Empress? What exactly is he researching? And what connection does that have with the "period of growing apart over the past six years" mentioned by Mr. Flamelle?

Helen did not know the answers to these questions, but fortunately, she had ample time.

There were at least two to three years, if not longer, before the Empress and Flamelle would completely lose control and self-destruct. During this time, if all her attention could be focused on the weapon capable of slaying a deity... perhaps, many dire outcomes could be avoided.

With a thought, a faint group of Nidhoggur, barely visible as a small cluster of dark spots, flew out from her dim bracelet. The mysterious assassin had taken the majority of the Nidhoggur, but as if to mock her, left behind a few that were no longer of any use.

And before that, there were other threats, or... Father's test for me.

Helen allowed the tiny cluster of Nidhoggur to linger on her fingertips, whispering softly in her heart:

I will surely gain Father's approval, become his pact head, contribute my strength to him, I must—

...Wait.

The petite scholar suddenly sensed something odd about this remnant cluster of Nidhoggur.

They were still somewhat beyond her control and were arranging themselves into...

A sequence of codes?

*