Taming the Protagonist

Chapter 61: He Is the Great Hydra

Chishuang City and even the entire Chishuang Territory, hadn’t been this lively in ages.

This land wasn’t truly barren, but under the oppressive rule of past lords, it seemed desolate.

Even Chishuang City, the main city, wasn’t particularly prosperous.

But from that day on, everything changed.

—From the day a headless corpse was hung at the gate of Lord Hydra’s manor.

Chishuang City began to fall into order, everything becoming systematic.

The outer district’s sanitation visibly improved, the inner district bustled with growing crowds and carriages, merchants from other territories waited to speculate, and northern nobles with ambitions began reevaluating this land.

“Chishuang Territory is getting better”—every resident of Chishuang City would agree.

Even the poorest laborers in the outer district started to hold hope for the future.

Raraul was a stonemason, his craft passed down through generations.

As his village grew poorer and young men left, he had to leave his aging mother and young brother to seek a living elsewhere.

Even a rustic like him knew that in this ravaged land, Chishuang City, where Lord Hydra resided, held boundless hope.

Raraul crossed snowfields and dense forests with great difficulty to reach this city, once infamous in Chishuang Territory’s eyes.

When he entered Chishuang City, he found it unbelievable.

Not because Chishuang City was grand or thriving.

On his way to Chishuang Territory, Raraul passed through several cities.

Unable to glimpse their inner or upper districts, he stayed in the shabbiest inns, meeting all sorts of people—most cold and dangerous or dull and numb.

That was the look of the hopeless underclass.

But here, in Chishuang City’s outer district… These pitiful people, dressed in tattered coats, with frostbite on their hands and faces, cracked and dry skin, no different from other cities’ poor, radiated a vitality Raraul couldn’t comprehend.

The vitality of those truly alive, still holding expectations for life.

They weren’t necessarily kind or happy, but they were undeniably people who thought about the “future.”

The most luxurious thing for poor folk who could freeze or starve by the roadside at any moment.

"This is... the greatness of that lord?"

Raoul exclaimed with utmost admiration, beginning his search for a small inn to stay in.

But he wandered around and around, almost covering the entire outer district... yet he couldn't find a single inn with a vacancy.

—Because they were all fully occupied!

"You didn't know?"

The last inn's owner looked at the travel-worn young man with some surprise: "Lord Hydra is giving a speech at the central square today. The inns in the inner district were fully booked yesterday! Some rich folks even had to stay in our shabby motels, hahaha—"

The middle-aged owner let out a hearty, boisterous cheer: "Long live Lord Hydra!"

In the narrow, filthy lobby of the inn, a few men in tattered cotton jackets joined in the cheer:

"Long live Lord Hydra!"

"But..." Raoul gave a wry smile, "Is there really no place to stay? This weather isn't something just anyone can endure."

The owner shrugged: "Maybe you can try your luck at the church. The Concordant Church doesn't have much influence in the north, but we do have a church here. The priest might take you in for the night, who knows."

The owner's suggestion filled Raoul with unexpected joy.

Though he grew up in the countryside, he had heard about the church from many who had traveled and returned, and he thought this was indeed a viable option.

"Thank you! I'll give it a try!"

The simple and kind-hearted youth gave the owner a slight bow of gratitude before hurriedly turning to run outside.

"Hey, kid, wait! The great cold wave is coming in a few days. Do you want to book a—"

"...He runs fast."

Seeing a potential regular customer slip away, the owner couldn't help but purse his lips.

"Hey, Loka," a man in a tattered cotton jacket sitting on the old sofa in the lobby grinned, "How about a room to get me through this great cold wave? My place is too drafty."

"Can you pay for the coal?" Loka crossed his arms. "No money, you can freeze outside."

"Heartless bastard!" the man in the tattered jacket grumbled, but soon grinned again. "I'll bring my own coal, no need for you to worry. How about it?"

His equally impoverished friends around him chuckled slyly.

"...What's that supposed to mean? You didn't steal from some big shot, did you?" Loka grew wary. "Don't drag me into your mess!"

"We heard something big from Lantchachi, you know, the guy with all the news."

The poor man, who should have been worried for his life, seemed so confident and cheerful at that moment: "Want to know? If you do, save a room for me!"

***

Raoul stepped into the empty church, looking around nervously.

"Hello, young man."

A steady, warm voice sounded behind him: "Is something the matter?"

Raoul jumped, startled, and quickly turned around, stammering: "I... I don't have any bad intentions, I just—"

"Relax." The priest in a black robe smiled. "No thief would be as timid as you. First time in a church?"

"Uh... yes."

Raoul's gaze fell on the pendant at the priest's chest—a snake biting its own tail, its body coiled into a ring.

He recognized it; it was the emblem of the Concordant Church.

"No need to be formal. We don't demand everyone revere the divine."

The priest's voice was reassuring: "So, do you need help, young man?"

"I..." Raoul opened his mouth awkwardly. "Could you allow me to... stay here for a night?"

"Of course."

The priest agreed without hesitation: "Though we don't have spare lodgings, God tells me you are worthy of staying in the church."

Raoul was a bit bewildered by the priest's mystical words, but hearing he had a place to stay, he was overjoyed.

He wasn't sure how warm a church would be, but at least he wouldn't be exposed to the wind.

Moreover, Raoul had his own little secret—for certain reasons, he wasn't all that afraid of wind, snow, or cold.

The young man instinctively touched the pendant at his chest and bowed deeply to the priest in

gratitude: "Thank you for your kindness."

"I accept it on behalf of God," the priest replied with a smile.

With a temporary place to stay, Raoul felt much more at ease.

With nothing else to do, he followed the priest, curiously observing the church while unable to resist asking:"Mr. Priest, is it just you in such a large church?"

"There’s also one monk, one nun, and six children."

The priest said: "But they're all at the central square now."

"...Central square." Raoul paused, then realized, "Because of Lord Hydra's speech?"

"Naturally."

The priest's matter-of-fact tone made Raoul nod: "It is Lord Hydra, after all... He's truly an extraordinary figure! I never imagined Chishuang City would be like this. It's as if everyone has found hope."

"Hope." The priest paused mid-step, saying in a tone Raoul couldn't comprehend:

"Hope is often just an illusion crafted by the devil."

"...What's that?"

Raoul's mind froze for a second or two, his expression gradually turning fearful.

He hoped that phrase didn't mean what he thought it did.

"Nothing, just a passing thought."

The priest smiled: "Young man, why don't you go see that lord's speech? It should be starting soon."

"What?!"

Raoul exclaimed, nearly dropping his luggage: "It's starting? I... I was planning to go, but I didn't expect it to be so soon!"

"Can you keep my luggage for me, Mr. Priest?"

The young man's expression was anxious. After all, in today's Chishuang Territory, who didn't admire the great Lord Hydra?

"Go ahead. If you can, please share your thoughts afterward."

The priest took Raoul's luggage, smiling:

"God seems to have some interest in it."

***

In the pleasantly warm carriage, Anselm rested with his eyes closed, his expression calm.

Sitting beside him was not Hitana but Marina, dressed in a heavy, dark black gown.

"Up to now, nearly ten thousand transient people have poured into the city."

Marina, having compiled the latest reports, softly informed Anselm: "According to Mr. Saville's intelligence, twenty percent of them are investigators from various factions, coming from..."

Anselm listened quietly to Marina's report, nodding gently from time to time.

"Based on the patrol team's data, the crime rate this week has dropped by thirty-two percent. Additionally, sanitation management in the outer district has been successfully implemented..."

In truth, Marina didn't understand many of the terms in the report.

Most of it wasn't her work; she was merely relaying the information.

But she was absorbing every bit of information and knowledge she could access at a terrifyingly rapid pace—unknown even to Hitana, Marina hadn't slept in six days.

She had requested three vials of energy potions and nutrient fluids from Anselm, enough to keep her physically healthy without sleep for an entire month.

"...And finally."

Marina's voice shifted, becoming hesitant and heavy.

"The funds you allocated to the nobles of Chishuang Territory have been fully returned, not a penny short."

"It seems our Count Ironstone is quite punctual."

Anselm finally opened his eyes, smiling with an ease that contrasted sharply with Marina's demeanor: "He's an interesting man with considerable ability."

"...Mr. Anselm." Marina lowered her gaze. "I know it's late, but could you—"

"Is this your plea, Marina?"

Anselm turned to meet her eyes.

His tone was gentle yet carried an unshakable conviction: "If what you say next is your plea to me, I will grant it."

Marina, locking eyes with Anselm, gradually tightened her grip on her skirt, her knuckles whitening slightly. Her lips parted, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"...No, please forgive my rudeness."

She bowed deeply: "I deeply regret questioning your judgment."

"No need, Marina. Confidence is an indestructible weapon, but only those who wield it correctly can unleash its power."

Anselm picked up the cane beside him, chuckling lightly: "That weapon doesn't suit me. I prefer the doubt you speak of, using it to constantly dissect myself."

Marina nodded thoughtfully, as if grasping something profound.

Words that might seem like cryptic nonsense to Hitana always helped her better understand the greatness of the one she swore to serve.

"Well, I can hear the people's cheers."

Anselm stood, his face breaking into that radiant yet approachable smile so praised by the nobles.

"It's time to begin the speech that will unite Chishuang Territory before the great cold wave arrives."

In another carriage, Hitana, bored and sprawled across the seat, snapped upright with a "pop" the moment she heard the carriage door open, rushing out with such force she nearly kicked the door off its hinges.

They were now in an open area outside Chishuang City's central square, heavily guarded by Count Ironstone's private army.

The fully armored guards exuded a chilling, formidable aura, clearly not to be trifled with.

Seeing Anselm calmly descend from the carriage, leaning on his cane, Hitana hopped and waved, shouting: "Hydra! Wait for me!"

The young noble, ever indulgent toward her, paused and turned, smiling lightly at her.

The young wolf girl grinned warmly, quickly running to Anselm's side before her face shifted to a scowl.

"Why did I have to ride in a separate carriage? It's not like the compartment couldn't fit three people."

"Because I had many matters to report to Mr. Anselm."

Marina stepped out of the carriage, her voice slightly cold, devoid of her usual warmth: "You

would cause trouble, Hitana."

"Tch, even chatting is causing trouble now?"

Hitana, lacking her usual respect for Marina, crossed her arms and turned away: "So pretentious!"

Their relationship had soured since Hitana returned from Count Ironstone's manor.

The reason was simple.

When Hitana excitedly rushed back and despite Anselm and Marina's attempts to stop her, barged into the study to announce her "great deed"—

Marina slapped her across the face.

Unlike the impulsive clash between sisters before, this slap... carried Marina's cold, clear anger.

For reasons unknown, Marina never explained the slap, and the two had been at odds ever since, still not reconciled.

"Alright, quiet down, Hitana."

Anselm looked over Hitana, now dressed in a sharp black outfit with a black velvet cloak, and nodded with satisfaction: "Have you forgotten? You're coming up with me."

"Oh... ah! I know, of course I know!"

Hitana cleared her throat, trying to project an "I'm very calm" demeanor: "Don't worry!"

"You'll need to get used to big occasions. This is your first time, so do well."

Anselm patted the girl's arm: "No need to be nervous. Just stand behind me. If the crowd feels overwhelming, you don't have to look—just lower your head."

"No way, that'd be too embarrassing." The young wolf girl put her hands on her hips. "Wouldn't that make you look bad? Having a quivering quail as a guard would make people laugh."

Anselm couldn't help but laugh, his joy and lightness genuine: "And you?"

"Me? What's wrong with me? I don't show my face much."

Hitana replied matter-of-factly: "But you, you're on everyone's lips. You have to be the best!"

"Since you say so, Hitana."

Anselm responded to her sincerity with a brilliant smile: "Then I will be the best."

Staring at Anselm’s smiling face, Hitana froze for two or three seconds before shifting her gaze away:

“…Mm, mm, as long as you have that confidence, I… I’m fine.”

“Then let’s go, Hitana.”

Anselm turned toward the long passage formed by two rows of armored soldiers, saying meaningfully:

“Let all the people of Chishuang Territory get to know you and me.”

Unaware of the deeper meaning in his words, Hitana excitedly clenched her fist and waved it vigorously, expressing her determination to Anselm.

At the same time, she turned and stuck out her tongue at Marina.

Bleh, take that, jealous bad Lina… it’s been so long, and you haven’t even apologized.

After the great cold wave, I’ll go back and tell Mom and Dad about you!

Marina merely looked at Hitana’s childish face with no expression, showing no reaction.

Only when her younger sister turned back did she slightly lower her head, slowly closing her eyes.

Extinguishing the last trace of… struggle and pain in her eyes.

When she raised her head again and opened her eyes, there was only a bone-chilling rationality.

Hitana, following Anselm forward, was unaware of the emotional shift in her sister, for she had no mind to care about such things.

The human walls formed by the soldiers on both sides kept the frenzied people of Chishuang Territory at bay.

Countless shouts, countless voices, made her world equally noisy and wild, but Hitana felt no irritation or nervousness.

On the contrary, she was almost swept up in the surging tide.

Even though the praise and worship weren’t for her, her heart thrummed with it.

A fervent desire burned in the girl’s chest.

—She was born to bask in the thunderous cheers of the masses.

The wild beast deep within her soul roared with excitement, resonating with its master in that moment.

Unknowingly, Hitana entered an indescribable state.

The cheers were so close yet so distant; so deafening yet ethereal, as if coming from the clouds, fleeting and illusory.

She felt the extraordinary element called Ether flowing through her body, rushing along her spine to her brain, the surging boundless power making the maturing she-wolf want to roar aloud.

At that moment, Anselm’s soft whisper came from ahead.

“Mind your emotions, Hitana. Don’t steal the spotlight… heh, though I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“…” Hitana froze, nearly missing a step behind Anselm.

Oh… oh! Right, what was I thinking?

This is Hydra’s speech.

Why am I getting so excited I want to rush up and throw punches?

As this thought arose from Anselm’s words, an unwilling, angry growl echoed from the depths of her soul before it subsided into silence.

The tumultuous emotions in her heart and the wild power flowing through her body gradually calmed.

She followed Anselm, step by step, onto the central square’s platform.

At that moment, the shouts of the Chishuang Territory’s people filling the square grew ever more unified:

“Hydra! Hydra! Hydra!”

The people’s cries shattered the winter’s chill, tore through the clouds, and the earth trembled with their resonance.

The howling north wind, in awe, carried the name throughout the city and beyond.

On the last sunny day before the great cold wave, the young man who saved Chishuang

Territory stood tall, bathed in sunlight.

He raised his hand, pressing it down simply.

The voices fell silent, leaving only thousands upon thousands of gazes worshiping their savior.

“People of Chishuang Territory, citizens of the Empire. It seems it’s been a while since I last spoke to you like this.”

That clear, gentle voice, mature yet retaining the last traces of youthful timbre, resounded in all directions.

Hydra, standing on the platform, leaned on his cane with one hand, the other behind his back.

Facing tens of thousands of people, his opening words were like greeting an old friend.

“I still remember the first thing I said to the people outside my manor on the day I went to Chishuang Mansion.”

He smiled, speaking calmly and gently:“I said, ‘I heard your voices.’”

“And then, I executed Count Chishuang, your former lord.”

Anselm, gripping his cane, stepped toward the front, toward the edge of the platform.

He suddenly sighed: “Truthfully, I regretted it a bit that day.”

“Regretted smashing his head, causing trouble for the friends who had to hang him.”

Laughter erupted from the crowd.

“Honestly, citizens of the Empire.”

The young noble, who spent most of his days in his study, said calmly: “I’m not here to boast of my achievements or spread my fame across the north or the Empire.”

“Because I don’t care.”

Anselm’s words caused a slight stir among the people, but he quickly continued:

“I know some of you must be confused—perhaps commoners, perhaps nobles.”

“They’ll ask—what exactly is it all for?”

Hydra smiled: “I also know there will be many more who speak for me, saying I’m kind, just, representing absolute righteousness and judgment, and always willing to give everything for me.”

He moved the hand behind his back to the front, casually pointing at a young man in the crowd.

“Are you willing?” Anselm asked.

The young man froze, standing still for four or five seconds until those around him shook him.

He reacted, roaring with ecstatic joy:“Yes! Lord Hydra! Mokes Landkad is willing to give everything for you!”

“And you?”

Anselm pointed casually at another person.

“Me too!” This person’s excited roar was even louder. “It’s my honor! I’d die for you!”

Anselm randomly selected several more people, and without exception, their responses were nearly frenzied.

The surrounding crowd, the majority in the square, saw nothing wrong with this fervor.

Far from fearing it, they envied—jealously envied—those chosen, envied their chance to express loyalty to the great Hydra.

“Look, this is what I’ve gained.”

Anselm took another step forward, standing at the platform’s edge, and raised his head. His tone held no excitement, only calm satisfaction:“I’ve gained you.”

Everything fell silent.

The people in the square, buffeted by the cold wind, and the nobles in warm buildings, made no sound.

Until the first shout—a frenzied, near-tearful cry—

“Hydra!!!”

Thus, the towering peaks collapsed under the tremor of fanaticism, and the calm sea surged with the vision of devotion.

Countless people rushed forward, the relentless waves crashing against the elite soldiers surrounding the platform.

They shouted Hydra’s name, like believers calling their lord’s holy name, so devout, so frenzied.

“Calm, please calm down, dear people.”

Anselm lightly tapped his cane, his voice still gentle and composed: “I know some still think—what use is it to gain you? What use is gaining these ignorant, impoverished, weak, meaningless commoners?”

The people gradually quieted, listening to his speech once more.

“Then let me tell them.”

Hydra raised his cane, pointing at one person: “I need you to leave Chishuang Territory and join my domain. Are you willing?”

The same act as before received the same near-mad affirmation.

Then, Anselm pointed his cane to the sky, proclaiming loudly:

“Then, I want to see all those willing to leave Chishuang Territory and follow me!”

In that moment—long, short, frostbitten, delicate, sallow, wrinkled, incomplete…

Countless hands rose high, like a forest of swords, like dark clouds covering the sky.

Even some of the soldiers couldn’t help but half-raise their hands.

Anselm laughed freely and boldly: “Now they should know the answer. If all you ‘useless’ commoners follow me and leave Chishuang Territory—”

The young man waved his cane, his passionate voice piercing the heavens:

“—Then where is the so-called Chishuang Territory!”

Cheers, endless cheers.

Hitana, also on the platform, looked ahead, her eyes and her world fixed on that one figure.

The girl’s cheeks flushed red.

She wanted nothing more than to rush forward, leap onto that man she both loved and hated, cling to him, and hold him tightly.

Her chest burned again, her heart pounding, yet the feeling was entirely different from before.

“Hydra…”

Hitana clutched her chest, lowering her head to exhale a fiery breath.

“…Anselm.”

In a lavishly decorated room, several nobles sat together, gazing through the window at the young noble who seemed to command the entire world.

“This… monster.”

One noble’s hand, holding a teacup, trembled uncontrollably, spilling tea everywhere: “He’s a monster, he’s… a devil!”

“…A devil?”

Count Ironstone stared at the figure bathed in sunlight, his eyes filled with obsession and madness.

“No, that’s no devil, absolutely not.”

He gritted his teeth, not out of fear but to suppress a trembling excitement.

“That is… a god!”

On the platform, Anselm’s voice grew ever more fervent.

Standing at the edge, he shed the initial elegance.

This was no performance to conquer anyone—it was an outpouring he couldn’t control.

From the moment he survived the depths of despair, the being named Anselm Hydra had a purpose worth sacrificing everything for.

Since the age of ten, he locked away the advanced knowledge he had seen, the grand sights he had witnessed, into the prison of his memory. He began associating closely with the self-proclaimed great nobles, picking up and studying the foolish codes he once disdained, adhering to those ancient, stale, and rotten traditions day after day, year after year.

Because he knew the path he chose, the journey he undertook, was destined to be filled with thorns and sacrifices—not just tangible things but abstract concepts: freedom, future, self, conscience… If he couldn’t even handle such small matters, how could he sacrifice greater things or face harsher realities?

So he did it.

For six years, without a single flaw, he became the perfect noble praised by all, gaining what he needed.

Until now, at this juncture, when revealing a sliver of his true self no longer mattered, Anselm decided to grant himself a moment of indulgence.

—This was a decision the usual Anselm would never make.

“I know none of you were born wanting to live in dilapidated houses, to grow up wearing patched clothes, to endure hunger and cold, to be trampled upon so humbly and miserably, dying without meaning.”

Anselm looked at the restless commoners, his voice suddenly calm.

“But I won’t say—if you work hard, everything will change.”

“I won’t say there are countless opportunities in this world, and it’s your own failure to strive.”

“I know fate is merciless. Yes, I know very well—”

“Fate… is merciless.”

The young Hydra lowered his head slightly, the veins on the hand gripping his cane bulging.

“It’s not something you can resist just because you want to.”

“…Yes, let’s say it’s so.”

He raised his head again, the fire in his eyes blazing with madness, terrifying some as if they’d be incinerated in an instant, while driving others to greater fervor, willing to throw themselves into the flames, to become kindling, hoping only that the fire would burn through the heavens!

“Let’s say I’m using you—”

The unbridled madness in Hydra’s blood took over.

The usual courteous, gentle Anselm vanished, leaving only the wild beast that severed eight heads, seeking life in death, baring its fangs at the sky!

“Let’s say I’m waging war against that damned fate!”

“If it summons death, trying to steal your lives through the cold wave, I’ll make you live to spit on its malice and vileness!”

“People of Chishuang Territory, citizens of the Empire, all who faithfully follow me—”

The frenzied beast, losing all reason and coursing with mad blood, roared:

“If fate demands you kneel, you shall answer in my name—I will never kneel!”

“Because Anselm Hydra commands me to stand!”

After that roar echoed throughout Chishuang City, a long silence followed.

No one spoke, no one dared to speak. Whether fanatical believers or those who called him devil or god, none uttered a single word or made a sound.

Anselm, somewhat exhausted, staggered back two steps, steadying himself with his cane. After a brief silence, he bowed slightly:

“This is all of me, all of Anselm Hydra.”

He turned without hesitation and walked down from the platform.

Regaining his composure, he reflected on his frenzied declaration with a wry smile.

How… unfortunate.

At this moment, at this timing, at this juncture, he had delivered such a fiery, impassioned speech.

Fate, which hadn’t managed to interfere with him for so long, had dealt a near-fatal blow while watching him indifferently.

Having given this heartfelt, rousing speech, how could he proceed with his plans? If he didn’t follow through, all his prior preparations would be for naught. But if he did—

How could he face his own heart?

“You think… this can defeat me?”

Hydra gripped his cane tightly, the dark glint in his eyes… as if it could swallow even himself.

“Anselm!!!”

An ecstatic cheer came from behind.

As he stepped down the stairs, at a corner where no one could see, the young wolf girl charged forward, turning her imagined scenario into reality, clinging to Anselm like a koala.

If not for her exquisite control of force, the consequences might have been dire.

“That was so cool! You were so cool just now! Especially that last line!”

Hitana pressed herself against Anselm, rubbing her face against his neck: “I knew you were a good person, the best! You’re the best!”

“…Hitana, calm down. Someone might see.”

Anselm grasped her wrist, a trace of warmth rising in his heart.

“I don’t care! Let them see, so what!”

Though she said this, Hitana, unusually obedient, slid off him at Anselm’s urging.

“Tell me about your past when we get back!”

The flushed girl’s eyes sparkled: “It must be so interesting, so incredible! How else could you be this amazing at your age!”

Stories of the past…

Interesting… were they?

Anselm gave a soft laugh, and beneath that false smile, the hesitation in his heart was utterly destroyed.

They were so interesting that even now, every time he recalled them, he laughed.

Yes, what was there to hesitate about? From that moment, he had already prepared to sacrifice everything.

Anselm Hydra was never a good person.

Conscience was likely the first thing he sacrificed.

Thus, he was the Empire’s greatest villain.