Chapter 32: The Serpent’s Dominion

A Shadow Crystal, an unremarkable Shadow Crystal.

A Shadow Crystal modified by Anselm’s father, the world’s greatest alchemist, imbued with twelve special effects, including aura concealment and existence correction.

When Anselm produced this item, the old man in the communication remained unfazed, but the gravely injured Viscount Xiaofeng, lying on the ground, turned deathly pale.

Question: When a lunatic who could kill you on the spot confronts you, disregarding noble dignity to propose a necromancer’s autopsy, with your plan likely to collapse and only three days left, holding the contact information of your savior, what would you do?

Without a doubt, last midnight, Viscount Xiaofeng—

“Your Grace! That Hydra wants me to find a necromancer to examine Longbing’s body, and he’s only given me three days. What should I do!”

In the footage projected by the Shadow Crystal, the moment Viscount Xiaofeng spoke, Hitana couldn’t hold back.

Are you kidding me?

How can you be this pathetic, dumber than a pig?

If I were that old man, I’d just let Hydra kill you!

Of course, this was the difference between Hitana and the Grand Duke.

The Grand Duke of Gray Tower looked at Anselm with feigned surprise and confusion: “Little Hydra, what’s the point of showing me this meaningless recording? The Empire has thirteen grand dukes—how do you know he was contacting me? Besides…”

The old man set down his teacup, chuckling as if the scene was immensely amusing: “How could a mere viscount speak directly to a grand duke? Little Hydra, you’re underestimating us.”

Behind his small round glasses, his wrinkled eyes narrowed slightly: “My busy days don’t have room for trivial matters like worrying about a viscount’s life, little Hydra.”

He didn’t shamelessly deny involvement but dismissed it with flawless, logical rhetoric, extracting himself effortlessly.

Grand Duke of Gray Tower’s words were simply reasonable.

Hitana, at least, was thrown off, thinking his argument seemed sound.

Anselm merely smiled, responding without hesitation or pause: “Such a response must disappoint Viscount Xiaofeng, Your Grace.”

“Oh? Should I apologize for that?”

“No, of course not, because you know he won’t bite back at you now.”

Anselm spread his hands: “I know his type of noble with ‘warrior pride’ too well. He’s just a bandit and pervert who plunders and kills, torturing victims in his castle’s dungeons, yet thinks himself some great figure—”

“‘I’d rather die by the hand of a true noble like the Grand Duke than that mad Hydra brat.’ With such thoughts, how could Viscount Xiaofeng slander you for your contempt?”

“Strange, isn’t it?” the youth sighed. “You and I both see his life as dust, yet he chooses to back you, not accept my mercy.”

The old man, sipping his tea, smiled, seemingly intrigued by the topic: “That’s because he never had the chance to understand you. You are a merciful child, little Hydra—of course, I only commend your mercy. As for this viscount friend… are you planning to execute him in front of me? I don’t know what he’s done, but don’t scare an old man like me.”

No one cared about Viscount Xiaofeng’s fate—except perhaps Hitana, who, reveling in schadenfreude, was eager to see what end this wretched noble would meet.

“…Your Grace,” Anselm sighed, “if I could, I’d love to chat with you all day, but you have matters to attend to, don’t you?”

The Grand Duke of Gray Tower agreed, raising his scepter slightly: “Its weight always burdens me.”

“Then I won’t waste more of your time.”

Anselm shifted, no longer sitting upright to converse but leaning back lazily in his chair.

“Chishuang Territory—I have no interest in it.”

“…”

This time, the Grand Duke didn’t respond smoothly.

After a brief pause, he smiled: “I know, it’s the Chishuang family’s land, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Anselm propped his cheek with one hand, grinning. “But as per royal law, families of equal rank to Count Chishuang in Chishuang Territory can temporarily manage its affairs if the Chishuang family fails to produce an heir promptly.”

In fact, it’s rare for multiple nobles of equal rank to reside long-term in a single large territory.

As a count, not a lesser viscount or baron, why forgo your own vast fief to live under another count’s thumb? Even viscounts and barons rarely linger in another’s domain.

Yet Chishuang Territory was an exception.

Count Ironstone, also a count, had stayed there for seven years instead of his own fief.

And recently, he’d grown close to Anselm.

“Unfortunately, though Count Chishuang had… many concubines, he had only one eldest son and no other kin of his generation. And that son, by sheer coincidence, has gone missing. Quite troublesome, isn’t it, Grand Duke of Gray Tower?”

The young Hydra said leisurely: “You haven’t been able to contact him for a while, have you?”

The Grand Duke of Gray Tower gently rubbed his ornate teacup, suddenly chuckling: “Would you, little Hydra, help Chishuang Territory recover its rightful lord?”

“That’s hard to say. The north is vast, and people are hard to find.”

Anselm shook his head but added jokingly:

“But who knows? Maybe after I leave, the Chishuang family’s heir will pop up on his own.”

After about four or five seconds of silence, the communication crystal’s projection carried the Grand Duke’s laughter.

Louder, heartier, increasingly unrestrained.

“Marvelous, marvelous… you truly are his masterpiece, little Hydra.”

The old man marveled: “I wondered why you only stripped Cantrell’s title instead of abolishing the entire Chishuang family’s noble status. I thought Ukalid had dealt with Cantrell’s son, but you were waiting for this moment, weren’t you?”

In the Empire, an individual’s noble title and a family’s noble status carry vastly different weight.

A grave crime can strip a personal title, but abolishing a family’s honor is extremely difficult under royal law, which is why the Empire’s nobility grows ever more decadent.

Even with constant miscreants, ancestral prestige shields them.

That’s why nobles fear Hydra.

Because when Hydra says they’ll kill your entire family, they mean it—and most times, they do it.

Anselm hadn’t inherited his father’s authority, but he could easily pin Count Chishuang’s crimes on every Chishuang family member and wipe them out.

If anyone objected, he could invoke his father—the monster who not only killed entire families but turned them into alchemical potions—to back him up.

Or he could appeal to the Emperor, whose unnatural fondness for young Hydra was known in noble circles, dangerously so.

In short, Anselm could have eradicated the Chishuang family but didn’t.

What delighted the Grand Duke of Gray Tower was that Anselm’s restraint wasn’t out of fear or deference.

He was waiting for this moment, for this very conversation.

If all his pieces were destroyed and his plans ruined, the Grand Duke of Gray Tower would have no reason to entertain Anselm.

But now, he had to carefully consider—not only him but Count Ironstone, entrenched in Chishuang Territory, and his backer, Grand Duke Ironblade, had to weigh Anselm’s demands.

This sixteen-year-old Hydra, with no Contract Heads, in just over a month in the north with only servants, without excessive violence or borrowed power, had leveraged the rivalry between two grand dukes to secure his maximum gain. How could the Grand Duke of Gray Tower not marvel?

Now, he was curious what this unique Hydra would demand.

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