Taming the Protagonist

Chapter 7: Fallen as She

The news of Count Chishuang’s death, along with Anselm’s trial records, reached the capital.

The great Majesty on the throne, as always, made no effort to hide his favoritism and indulgence toward Anselm.

“The affairs of Chishuang Territory are under your full authority. Kill whomever you wish without needing to inform me, but do not let Chishuang Territory collapse.” That was His Majesty’s reply.

Thus, Anselm was now in his study, handling the accumulated troubles of Chishuang Territory.

“Young master, reducing the agricultural tax to five percent for the next three years, abolishing all other miscellaneous taxes on farmers, and lowering commercial taxes—is this not a bit…”

Saville was accustomed to his young master’s whims, but Anselm always managed to shock him in unexpected ways.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Anselm looked up. “Too little? I was actually thinking of waiving taxes entirely.”

“That would be… difficult to justify to His Majesty.”

Anselm laughed, leaning back in his chair, the delicate quill spinning between his fingers. “Saville, do you know how far ahead that fool Cantrell taxed?”

The youth spread his hands, his casual, almost roguish gesture somehow elegant and dashing. “Sixty years! By normal rates, that man taxed sixty years into the future! It’s a miracle Chishuang Territory lasted this long, especially with that disgusting profit chain he built…”

He shook his head, laughing. “What we seized from him, what we pocketed, is more than enough to appease His Majesty. He won’t care much about this small sum. My dear father’s plundered wealth these past two years is enough for him to squander for a long time—perhaps until his death.”

“But that means you’d be using your spoils to subsidize Chishuang Territory’s commoners,” Saville reminded him. “Even for your benevolence, that’s overly extravagant.”

As one of Anselm’s father’s Contract Heads, Saville’s experience let him gauge the wealth of such parasites.

Even though the bulk of Count Chishuang’s fortune would go to the Emperor, what remained in Anselm’s hands was still a staggering sum—especially since the Emperor, who doted on his young master, was likely to let Anselm keep the lion’s share.

Even so, to Saville, diverting such a large portion of this fortune was unnecessary.

Still, he only ever questioned Anselm’s decisions, never dictated.

Besides, Saville was used to his young master’s inexplicable fondness for the commoners—in Hydra territory, Anselm Hydra’s reputation surpassed that of his father and the Emperor combined.

“Saville, when did your vision become so narrow?” The young noble shook his head with a wry smile.

“If ‘greatness’ could be bought with gold, then hesitation is shortsighted, and stinginess is foolish—besides, money means little to me.”

Anselm stood, stretching, and pushed open the window.

The blizzard had calmed, but snow still piled high around his temporary mansion.

Outside, several enthusiastic commoners were voluntarily shoveling snow for him.

“They’re so easily satisfied,” the languid snake said with an enigmatic smile.

“Lofro, Kadilar, Nokera, you’ve been at it for over an hour. Don’t you need a break?” the youth called to the young men in the courtyard.

The named youths looked up, overjoyed, waving their shovels vigorously, none feeling their labor was a burden.

Anselm glanced at Saville, who nodded slightly and vanished from the study.

Five minutes later, maids brought clear liquor and jerky to the courtyard.

Anselm waved cheerfully to the awestruck, reverent young men below before returning to his chair.

But soon, hearing the chants of “Woo-ha, Hydra!” “Woo-ha, Hydra!” from outside, the joy on Anselm’s face faded, replaced by a helpless sigh.

“Saville, find a sorcerer who can cast a strong soundproofing barrier by tonight.”

“Tonight? Are you staying at the mansion tonight?”

“Hm? Do I have other plans?”

Anselm, surprised, flipped through the documents beside him, then slapped his forehead. “The minor nobles and merchants of Chishuang Territory… I almost forgot about them. Heh, they move fast, just half a day. Oh, and the Chishuang clan? Have they been dealt with as I instructed?”

Saville bowed slightly. “It’s being handled. It won’t take long.”

The young Hydra nodded, then suddenly realized, “That fast? You’re not using Father’s methods, are you?”

“…Young master, am I that unreliable in your eyes?”

“Hahaha, just a joke to lighten the mood. Handling official business is exhausting, Saville.”

“Then, shall I summon Miss Nanaka?” the old butler asked considerately.

“Oh! I almost forgot my good girl.”

Anselm rubbed his chin, pondering. “Turn on the room’s heating mode after we leave.”

The old butler bowed and withdrew.

“Oh, and Saville.”

A meaningful smile spread across the youth’s face.

“Contact those two friends, Count Chishuang recommended.”

***

Marina stood before the study door, clutching her skirt, awaiting a response.

“Come in.”

When that young, pleasant voice came from within, the girl took a deep breath and cautiously pushed the door open.

The warmth of the room surprised Marina.

Though there was no fireplace, the study was even cozier than the fire-lit living room.

Marina knew what this was—some kind of… something etched by sorcerers.

With magic crystal energy, it could make summer rooms refreshingly cool and winter rooms delightfully warm.

If every Northern household had this, how many fewer people would freeze each year…

Marina mused, lost in thought, but quickly cast aside these distractions, nervously watching the young man writing at his desk.

“Is something the matter, Miss Lans?” When Hitana wasn’t present, Anselm courteously used Marina’s surname.

“L-Lord Hydra.”

Despite preparing herself mentally, Marina’s heart still raced uncontrollably when facing Anselm again.

She had warned herself repeatedly that Anselm Hydra, a figure who could casually execute Count Chishuang, was surely far more mysterious, complex, and dangerous than she could imagine… Yet, has he done anything improper thus far?

No.

No matter how critically Marina examined him, she couldn’t find a single flaw in the handsome young Lord Hydra.

On the contrary, he had helped countless people in Chishuang Territory without seeking reward, and the greatest beast plaguing this land had been slain by this golden knight himself.

What more could she doubt?

Marina, like a timid rabbit, stole glances at Lord Hydra’s serious expression as he handled documents, unable to fathom why her sister harbored such intense malice toward him.

“Miss Lans.”

Lost in thought, Marina hadn’t noticed Anselm set down his pen, smiling gently at her, repeating without a trace of impatience, “Is something the matter?”

Realizing her rudeness, the snow-haired girl’s face flushed.

She lowered her head, her voice still delicate but less fearful, tinged with shyness.

“I… I’d like to ask you to spare a little time, just a little.”

Anselm leaned back comfortably, his hands, initially clasped on the desk, naturally dropping below, and smiled. “May I take it as an invitation for a date?”

“Ah! N-No—not that!” Marina’s ears burned instantly, a lovely blush spreading from her snow-white neck to her cheeks. “That’s not what I meant!”

“What a pity.” Anselm sighed with mock sorrow. “It seems I don’t yet have that privilege.”

Poor Miss Marina was at a loss for how to respond, stammering “uhh, ahh” with odd sounds until Anselm couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t be too nervous, Miss Marina. Just a joke.”—He subtly shifted to her first name, unnoticed by Marina, who, realizing her reaction, clutched her skirt in shy frustration, lowering her head in silence.

Of course, it could only be a joke.

How could Lord Hydra fancy a girl like her?—Marina felt a complex pang for the fleeting joy that had crossed her heart.

“Was I too frivolous, Miss Marina?” Anselm asked, suddenly concerned, studying her.

“…No, it’s just… I…”

Marina, who thought she could speak to Anselm with clarity, now had a mind in chaos.

The good news was, she no longer felt pressure about her request; the bad news was, the new pressure made her want to hug her head and crouch on the floor.

“Well then, please look up, Miss Marina.”

“…” Unlike her willful sister, Marina obediently raised her head.

Anselm met her eyes directly, speaking before she could look away, his tone pure and sincere.

“I apologize for my earlier careless words, Miss Marina.”

Marina waved her hands in a panic. “No… you don’t have to…”

No great figure had ever apologized to her.

The first time she pointed out a tax collector’s mistake, she got a brutal slap.

Since then, Marina learned never to point out a great person’s errors.

“But I was indeed thoughtless. I just wanted you to relax.” Anselm winked with a smile. “Now, Miss Marina, are you too busy thinking, ‘What strange things is this man saying,’ to be nervous about what you wanted to say?”

The girl froze, her breath feeling hot, unsure if it was the room’s warmth or something else.

She couldn’t help but tap her toes lightly, answering in a soft, warmed voice, “Yes, thank you, Lord Hydra. I’m not so nervous anymore.”

“I’d like to ask you… to spare a moment to witness—witness Hitana’s talent. I swear, she’ll be outstanding… no, the most outstanding hunter and warrior in the North!”

Marina’s voice was firm, her gaze meeting Anselm’s without a trace of avoidance.

“Hm… then why didn’t Miss Hitana come with you, Miss Marina?”

“…”

Poor Marina’s hard-won courage deflated completely.

But before embarrassment or discomfort could settle, Anselm smiled and said, “No matter. Tomorrow… after breakfast, bring Miss Hitana—”

He paused, as if struck by an idea, his smile widening. “No, tonight. The maids will notify you.”

The emotional rollercoaster made Marina’s heart skip a beat.

She suppressed the urge to jump for joy, bowing deeply to Anselm. “Thank you for your kindness, Lord Hydra!”

“No, you should thank yourself, Marina… hiss… Miss.”

As if that strange sound never happened, Anselm smiled. “Thank your love for your family and your admirable courage.”

Gazed at by those sea-blue eyes, Marina felt dazed.

No one had ever said such things to her.

A strange emotion sprouted in her heart, making her overlook the… odd sensation of something slowly wrapping around her.

As Anselm suggested, she mustered her courage again, gave a clumsy curtsy, and, resisting the urge to flee, hurried out of the study.

The study fell quiet for a moment before a strange swallowing sound emerged.

“Poor Miss Marina,” came a sultry, confident voice, like a siren’s song, from nowhere.

“Dear Miss Nanaka.” Anselm lowered his head, meeting those pitch-black, lightless, yet eerily fervent eyes. “That wasn’t what a good girl should do.”

The edges of his sea-blue eyes seemed rimmed with a deep black, twitching like a living thing.

His earlier courteous, gentle demeanor was like illusory mist.

When the mist cleared… only the demonic spectacle from the abyss devoured those who gazed upon him.

“But I’m long past being a good girl, dear master.”

The reborn Yura Nanaka rubbed against Anselm’s thigh with serene happiness. “Of course, if you need me to be, I will. But in that moment—”

A provocative, bewitching smile spread across the woman’s face.

Like a boneless snake, she slithered upward, pressing close to the youth’s chest, lifting her chin to lick his earlobe.

“Did you want me to be a good girl or a bad girl?”

Anselm smiled, stroking her chin. “I need you to be a girl who doesn’t get jealous.”

Seeing the beauty’s expression stiffen slightly, the devil born from the endless dark realm chuckled, gently wrapping an arm around her waist, casting a spell on her soul.

“Because it’s unnecessary. Those without worth cannot walk with me.”

Anselm nibbled her exquisite snow-white neck, whispering as if injecting venom into her veins.

“But you, Yura, my good girl, are destined to fall with me to the abyss’s end, aren’t you?”

“Ah… ah—!”

The black-eyed woman, clinging tightly to Anselm, let out a fervent, almost wailing moan.

“Yes… yes, yes! My devil, my… lord!”