Chapter 26: Anselm’s Thoughtful Intentions

Pride—Hitana’s pride.

If one could survey the entirety of the great life of the Heavenly Wolf Empress, it would be easy to see that this pride, this untamed heart from a remote village, was the greatest force that propelled her to the pinnacle.

Unyielding to any hardship, unbroken by any pain, her indomitable soul allowed Hitana to overcome one impossible ordeal after another, achieving ultimate strength.

But only Anselm could see this.

At this stage, Hitana’s pride had not yet transformed into that unshakeable will, stronger than mountains and earth.

Her pride was more akin to a child’s tantrum, a misunderstanding of her own strength and status mixed with reckless stupidity.

Only after enduring a series of overwhelming despair could she draw the power of awakening from the destruction that nearly drove her to collapse and madness.

But Anselm would not give her that chance.

Despair or awakening… everything about this girl would be granted by him alone.

On the frigid, wind-swept streets, Anselm contemplated the next steps of his training plan.

Precisely because Hitana’s pride currently leaned toward “childish tantrums,” it yielded to the tangible rather than the abstract.

Take the earlier example: she didn’t want to be a paralyzed doll at Anselm’s mercy, fearing he might escalate to something humiliating like making her wet herself.

So, she’d rather call him “Master” and submit to a more superficial threat.

In simple terms, she cared about saving face.

Using this as a starting point, Anselm could devise many approaches, but he had no intention of focusing on that.

The reason was simple: Anselm Hydra needed a great warrior, a loyal Contract Head, not a disposable plaything.

Merely toying with and humiliating Hitana was meaningless to him—all training had to serve a purpose, either fostering her growth or drawing her closer to obedience and loyalty.

As for why he was now pondering how to handle this disobedient girl, it wasn’t because Anselm planned on the fly.

His entire training scheme for Hitana had been perfected a year ago.

However, the girl’s excessively reckless behavior earlier made Anselm realize that, under the dual influence of human unpredictability and the tides of fate, his plans needed constant adjustments to account for unexpected “accidents.”

All the ease and control Anselm displayed before Hitana stemmed from such frequent reflection and meticulous planning.

“For Hitana’s proper growth this time…”

The blond youth murmured softly, a chill flickering in his dreamy sea-blue eyes.

“Unstable factors need to be dealt with thoroughly.”

Despite telling Hitana he was going to find a random restaurant, Anselm inexplicably ended up at a very plain clock shop.

He pushed the door open, and as a clear chime rang out, the middle-aged man behind the counter looked up.

Upon seeing Anselm, he displayed unmistakable humility and fear.

The commoner’s awe of nobility was evident.

“…My lord, is there anything I can assist you with?”

The man forced a smile, his tone cautious.

“How much did the Grand Duke of Gray Tower offer you?” Anselm strolled through the shop, eyeing the various clocks in the display cases, his voice calm.

The shopkeeper looked puzzled: “I don’t quite understand… You, the Grand Duke of Gray Tower? That’s one of the two grand dukes of our north. How could I—”

“You made a mistake.”

Anselm interrupted, casually picking up a clock from a display shelf and examining its dial closely.

“In Chishuang Territory, especially among the commoners, no one is unaware of Hydra’s appearance.”

“And when the commoners of Chishuang Territory see me—”

He smiled at the unremarkable clock shop owner: “They cheer for my good deeds and praise my greatness, not tremble in fear like you.”

“…”

The shopkeeper fell silent for a moment, then rubbed his forehead with a sigh: “So that’s how it is. But this is still quite unreasonable, Lord Hydra.”

“You’ve only been here for half a day.”

The man spread his hands, and every clock in the shop… began spinning wildly at different speeds.

“Half a day is a very long time for me.”

He walked behind the counter, pouring himself a cup of hot water, but the process of the water falling into the cup… seemed unnaturally slow.

“But for you, a young lord who came to the north with only a butler and a maid retinue.”

The man caught the cup as the water slowly surged, continuing in a tone of disbelief:

“How could it possibly be enough time for you to uncover my identity?”

“Can I take that as you underestimating Hydra?” Anselm countered with a light laugh.

“No, no, no… I wouldn’t dare.” The man shook his head vigorously. “My mentor says I have boundless potential, destined to reach the fifth tier and achieve the Crown. Why would I waste my life on something as foolish as ‘underestimating Hydra’?”

“I’m merely curious. If you could enlighten me…”

He set the cup down with a smile, and all the clocks stopped spinning.

Time in the cup returned to normal, the water still.

“No additional cost needed. I’d be happy to share some extra information about this assassination—honestly, I don’t like that old fox Gray Tower either.”

The man was arrogant, confident, but he had the strength to back it up.

At the final stage of the Throne, on the verge of advancing to Scepter, he possessed an unimaginable talent for temporal techniques.

Once he reached Scepter, he would become the youngest mentor in the Order of Time.

The Order of Time, the continent’s most elite assassin organization, adhered to ancient principles—unconcerned with justice or evil, light or darkness, they sought only supreme power, unmatched lethality, and to become assassins as invincible as time itself.

So why would such a promising prodigy… be involved in the assassination of two ordinary viscounts?

“I don’t need it, my friend. I don’t need you to provide any information.”

Anselm smiled gently: “Because the Grand Duke of Gray Tower’s so-called schemes and plots are far too crude for me.”

The man raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised: “That’s a rare assessment. Everyone knows the cunning of the ‘Gray Fox,’ yet in your eyes, he’s worthless?”

“Then what do you think is the most important factor in these so-called games and calculations, assassin?”

The youth spun his cane playfully, asking curiously: “Is it wisdom? Resources? Power? Those… intangible, elusive things?”

“No, none of those. It’s something even you know well.”

“It all comes down to the information gap.”

“Just ‘I know what you don’t’ is enough to obliterate countless calculations.”

“So guess…” The young Hydra, yet to claim a single Contract Head, smiled. “What is it that the Grand Duke of Gray Tower doesn’t know?”

The cane tapped the ground lightly.

The prodigy assassin, with a bright future in the Order of Time and the ability to manipulate time, looked curious: “Will you tell me?”

“I already have.” Anselm pointed at his chest with a grin.

The assassin, puzzled, instinctively glanced at his own chest.

Then he saw a silver, snake-shaped dagger protruding from his chest.

“A truly great assassin.”

Anselm’s voice drifted over: “No one knows his name, his abilities, his appearance. His greatness lies in his nonexistence. To those who try to glimpse him, he is… merely nothingness.”

“You’ve witnessed such greatness. So… would you like to glimpse the truth that could grant you that same greatness?”

The devil whispered in the bewildered assassin’s ear:

“I can show you a vista called infinity.”

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