Taming the Protagonist

Chapter 85: Hegemon and Dominator

My long, powerful legs arced through the air, like a blade slashing or a hammer smashing.

My seemingly frail flesh struck cold, hard armor, unleashing a chilling, low boom.

The man, sent flying seven or eight meters, scrambled up, removing his helmet.

His shaken face forced a smile: “Lady Lans, you’re getting stronger. In my knowledge, no one at the Crystal Ladder has your power.”

“…”

I lowered my leg slowly, feeling no pride or joy, my gaze even darkening.

“Hitana.” Marina appeared at the courtyard entrance, poised. “Are you done?”

“…Yeah.”

I nodded, walking to the man—supposedly my sparring partner, but really just my punching bag—patting his shoulder: “Thanks for the trouble.”

He stared as I walked away, recalling my ferocious, devilishly perceptive fighting style, shivering.

Where did Lord Hydra find this monster?

“How was it?” Marina tilted her head, tone calm. “Find that feeling?”

“No.”

I gritted my teeth, face full of frustration I hadn’t shown: “Not at all! Damn it… what’s wrong!”

Another victory, but one that brought no feeling.

I kept getting stronger, acing Anselm’s tests, even defeating most of Chishuang Territory’s third-tier Thrones.

Veteran sorcerers, armored warriors—once I read the fight with my terrifying talent, they all fell.

A Crystal Ladder sweeping Thrones was a laughable fantasy elsewhere.

Yet, achieving this, I felt no satisfaction.

Chishuang Territory was a northern backwater, with little but the Red Ice Python.

The extraordinaries serving nobles here were low-tier, and I sensed many held back… these wins meant nothing.

Worse, I fought them to find the spark to reach the Throne, but gained nothing.

The beast in my soul seemed asleep, no matter how I tried to stir it.

I hadn’t told Anselm.

I didn’t want my promises to become empty boasts or to disappoint him again.

Lost, I turned to my sister, hoping her wisdom would guide me.

We walked side by side down a corridor in Fengjing City, one of the territories that let its poor die in the Great Cold Wave.

Marina, under the guise of official duties, took me to many territories, pitting me against different extraordinaries to recapture that Throne-touching feeling, but it never worked.

“Can’t you describe that feeling?” Marina frowned, worried.

“…I, I don’t know.”

I grabbed my hair: “It’s just… I’m unstoppable, no one can block me. I don’t know how to explain.”

The emotions were vivid, a whirlwind of intensity, but my words couldn’t capture them.

Marina fell silent.

Unaware of my talks with Anselm about fate and futures, or my uniqueness, even her extensive knowledge of extraordinaries left her stumped.

“…Hitana,” she sighed. “Tell Mr. Anselm. He won’t blame you.”

“But, but—” I bit my lip, unwillingly. “I don’t want to trouble Anselm or… lose that chance, that right.”

I grew stronger, reading every move, predicting attacks, but these cold victories felt empty.

Battles became dull calculations, offering nothing valuable, even… boring.

Is this right? Is this fighting style my best path?

The thought haunted me.

My unconditional trust in Anselm and my real progress made me suppress it repeatedly.

I was sure his path was right, but I found nothing I needed on it.

I was frustrated.

The chance to be Anselm’s Contract Head was near, and I believed he’d never abandon me.

But I couldn’t accept becoming one not through strength but by draining his affection.

I stood by him to lend power, to clear his obstacles, not to seek strength from him.

But…

If I stubbornly refused his help for pride, and when the Red Ice Python awoke, I lacked the power to fight it, what of the destruction it caused?

Wouldn’t that be another mistake from my stubborn ego, my foolish pride?

Wouldn’t that mean I’d learned nothing?

I sank into an increasingly anxious dilemma.

As the Red Ice Python’s awakening—revealed by Anselm—neared, my heart grew more unsteady.

Hearing my anxious breaths, Marina was about to comfort me when a tall, thin man in ornate clothes, looking nervous, approached.

Her expression turned calm and cold, her steps steady as she met him.

“Miss Marina,” he greeted, bowing to her, then slightly to me. “Lady Lans, apologies for interrupting.”

He was clearly more respectful to Marina but used a more awed title for me, oddly.

Marina raised a hand, signaling no need for meaningless words.

Her gesture carried a natural authority.

Facing the taller man, her demeanor flipped their roles, easily seizing control of the conversation.

Two things transform people: knowledge and power.

Devoting everything to Anselm, Marina immersed herself in both.

“Lord Fengjing,” Marina said calmly. “You seem to need help.”

“Yes, yes.”

The lord of Fengjing City nodded hurriedly: “My guards found two rebels.”

“As per Lord Hydra’s orders, I haven’t touched them, but…”

This noble, clearly indulgent in banned drugs, gaunt and haggard, whispered: “The trade chain you set up with Grand Duke Ironblade’s Soul Eater, a week ago, might be compromised…”

I tsked, annoyed: “That’s your problem. Why bother us?”

I didn’t know what Marina did for nobles, but I knew my sister.

Unlike the future Lady Violet, who’d sacrifice anything to climb, Marina wouldn’t do heinous things.

But helping nobles and cleaning their messes irritated me.

Lord Fengjing looked at me, forcing a smile: “You’re right, Lady Lans. But my abilities are limited, and with Lord Hydra’s orders…”

“Enough.” Marina glanced at him, voice icy. “Where are they? Hitana and I will handle it.”

I froze, about to protest, but seeing my sister’s stern profile, I swallowed my frustration.

***

“Lina, what’s the point of helping that noble?”

I squatted by the road, chin in hands, asking puzzledly.

“And is Anselm up to something weird again?”

“Most of Fengjing City’s poor died in the Great Cold Wave,” Marina’s gaze swept the bleak streets.

“As punishment, he must surrender his city to the Revolutionary Army.”

“…That’s a thing?”

I scratched my head.

I didn’t think the Revolutionary Army taking over was good—just look at that lunatic Snow Monster. They were barely better than nobles.

“What’s that trade chain, and do we have to deal with it?”

A cold smile crossed Marina’s maturing, lovely face: “Baron Fengjing’s a shortsighted fool, lost in banned drugs. I linked him with Grand Duke Ironblade’s men, and he thinks it’s Mr. Anselm’s favor, not realizing… why would Mr. Anselm waste resources on a city about to change hands?”

I grew more confused: “So, what’s it got to do with us?”

Marina patted my head, smiling: “It’s my gift to Mr. Anselm, so I need your help, Hitana.”

Hearing that, I leapt up, rubbing my fists: “Why didn’t you say so, Lina? I don’t get those weird plans—just tell me it helps Anselm!”

I waved my fist excitedly: “Just beat those two rebels, right?”

“Let them escape,” Marina said. “No need to hold them.”

Per Baron Fengjing’s intel, the two Revolutionary Army scouts hid in a house across the street.

I rubbed my neck, striding over.

Marina watched my back, her smile fading, worry creeping in.

Though she hadn’t shown it, she’d been constantly pondering why I couldn’t touch the third tier.

“Hitana thinks she’s hiding it, but she can’t fool Mr. Anselm.”

I murmured, eyes lowered: “Is Mr. Anselm allowing this because her not ascending doesn’t matter, or…”

“Does he know she can’t ascend, know why, but… chose not to tell her?”

Lacking key information, I couldn’t deduce further. I closed my eyes, sighing softly.

“Mr. Anselm wouldn’t harm Hitana. If he’s doing this, there’s a vital reason.”

My brief confusion vanished, my expression calm again, gazing at the house across the street.

Unaware of my sister’s critical insight, I kicked down the door, my single-track mind fixed on Marina’s words and their outcome.

Lina’s giving Anselm a gift, so we do this → Doing this makes Anselm happy!

With that simple logic, that purpose, my fists and feet brimmed with power.

“Hey, Revolutionary Army rats.”

In the living room, cloaked in black, I stood with a hand on my hip, chin raised, my mocking sneer making me look like a total villain: “You’ve got two choices.”

Mimicking that bastard Wendigo’s words, I threw them back at the rebels:

“First, hug your heads and scream now.”

“Second, wait till I break your limbs and toss you out.”

The two rebels, posing as a couple to infiltrate Fengjing City, froze, staring at me—no ether ripples, not third tier?

Their first thought: Trap, we’re surrounded!

Second thought: Sending this idiot as bait? They think we’re fools?

The man and woman exchanged a glance, splitting tasks instantly, no nonsense.

The man lunged for the window to escape, while the woman clenched her fist, countless sharp spikes bursting from vases, boxes, decorations, shooting at me from all sides!

The spike storm shredded the floor, but I was gone.

The woman, moments ago poised, spun through the air, crashing like a cannonball into the fleeing man’s back.

Whether it was the female sorcerer sent flying by a punch or the man feeling his back nearly shattered, their third thought was—

This isn’t third tier?!

“You sorcerers…” I sauntered toward the groaning pair on the ground, crouching, tilting my head. “Do you have to make such big moves to signal you’re casting? Think it’s cool? Or that you’re fast?”

“So… slow as ants,” I sighed. “Boring.”

The power of thought, as Anselm said, had no limits.

Before, I’d react only after instinct and senses warned me of danger.

Now, analyzing the battlefield, dissecting every move, with combat experience, I knew what she’d do the moment she raised her hand.

Maybe only a second, half a second, faster than instinct—but for me, that was enough.

I looked at the sorcerer, coughing blood, nearly killed by my punch, pulled a potion from my cloak, pried it open, and poured a bit to keep her alive: “You Revolutionary Army types—no skill, no conviction. What are you even doing? Hoping to topple the Empire… I’d rather bet on Anselm becoming Emperor.”

The two rebels, enraged by the insult, seethed.

The sorcerer’s fingers twitched, spikes in the floor quivering, then—

Her entire palm was smashed by my fist.

“…Tch.”

Amid her piercing wail, I grimaced, shaking off blood: “Don’t scream like that. Makes me sound like the bad guy. If I wanted you dead, your head would’ve popped.”

Anxiety and frustration from suppressing my emotions, dealing with nobles alongside Marina, and pretending nothing was wrong before Anselm had built up.

I was in a dangerously volatile state.

The beast in my soul seemed dormant, yet it fueled the fire in my chest every moment.

“I gave you a way out. You chose this.”

I stood, stretching, rolling my shoulders: “Alright, since you picked option two, I’ll keep my word—break your—”

Boom!

A familiar explosive sound—flesh tearing air—erupted in the room.

Strands of white hair floated down.

The man under the sorcerer was suddenly replaced by a burly, muscular giant!

The giant, surprised I dodged his punch, threw a second, ferocious fist, muscles rippling like a cannon aimed at my face!

My pupils shrank to pinpoints, arms crossing to block.

The massive fist’s impact spread through me, nearly sending me, who always overpowered others, flying!

The floor cracked loudly as I dug my feet in, anchoring myself.

Even so, I slid from one end of the room to the other, leaving deep gouges in the shattered floor.

“…”

The giant slowly withdrew his fist, frowning at me: “Kedkali’s junkie doesn’t have fighters like you. Wait…”

His gaze lingered on my disheveled white hair, then my dark red eyes gleaming with ferocity and battle lust, and he understood.

“So, Lans, the calamity, Hydra’s favorite.”

“Blocking that punch at Crystal Ladder—you’ve earned his favor.”

The giant approached: “If I hadn’t reached Fengjing City in time, Albatross and Rhino would’ve fallen to you.”

“…Hmph.” I pulled my legs from the floor, shaking my aching arms, sneering: “You think you can save them? Full of yourself, huh?”

“Just one more…”

“Guy with broken limbs!”

My inner wolf howled wildly, my black cloak streaking like lightning, thunder bursting with my charge!

Unlike the other two defenseless rebels, the giant moved as I stormed forward.

His seemingly bulky frame unleashed a heavy hook toward my stomach, tearing the air.

I smirked, having read his trajectory.

Stepping hard, I soared like an eagle, my knee crashing toward his face, bones snapping crisply.

But the giant didn’t falter. He grabbed for my ankle, but I, with my sharpened skills, stepped on his shoulder, flipping back to land smoothly.

“…Incredible physical strength and combat sense.”

He wiped his face, his shattered nose and cheekbones swelling back, looking uninjured without the blood.

“Still in the mood to chat?”

I raised my brows, violence flickering in my eyes. My form blurred, dodging his counter, fingers aligned, my delicate hand piercing space with a sharp whistle toward his throat!

Splatter—

Blood sprayed on my pale hand. I didn’t aim to kill, but he wasn’t easy prey, so I meant to cripple his fighting ability.

Compared to third-tier extraordinaries, I lacked techniques—offensive, defensive, even basic strength-boosting spells. Ending fights fast with overwhelming force was best.

My eyes narrowed.

In that split second, my fingers slashed, mercilessly cutting his trachea!

But in that instant, a terrible premonition hit.

…Behind!

As I realized, searing pain flared in my back.

Gritting my teeth, I kicked the giant’s chest, dodging his sweeping blow, spinning a back kick, my leg whipping behind.

Yet the solid impact made my pupils contract.

The male rebel, vanished earlier, now gripped a dagger, face cold, before me!

Then who was behind—

Before I could react, I was lifted and slammed to the ground!

The giant didn’t relent, gripping my ankle, smashing my frail-seeming body repeatedly.

On his third swing, his wrist twisted grotesquely nearly ninety degrees.

I, snapping his wrist with my heel, spat blood. My hair was a mess, my face smeared with dust and blood, utterly disheveled.

But my blazing dark red eyes shone like a wolf’s in the night, hungry and… frenzied!

I was sick of weak opponents, trash offering no experience or growth.

My pounding heart craved a real fight, one to show me the way!

To clear all obstacles for Anselm, to crush his enemies, to trample fate with him!

How could I fail to reach the Throne now!

The giant said nothing, punching my side. I twisted, dodging easily from his trajectory, but he vanished again!

“Bang!”

A muffled boom echoed.

The giant, reappearing at my side mid-punch, his pupils shrank.

Blocked?

I, blocking with one arm, grinned wildly: “Think that trick… works twice?”

Clearly, they used spatial magic, swapping the giant and dagger-man’s positions.

I’d seen short-range Shadow Leaping, but never in combat.

The trio, including the recovering sorcerer, was adept at this tactic, maintaining force despite swaps.

Against such unpredictable attacks, even seasoned third-tiers could fall unaware.

But I was different. If I couldn’t predict, if thinking failed, then—

Boom!

My high whip kick met the giant’s punch.

As he shifted again, I blocked preemptively, dodging the sorcerer’s steel needles, my moves fluid.

My body should’ve weakened under relentless blows, pain overwhelming, but an unknown, vast strength sustained me, my limbs deadly weapons, faintly overpowering three foes!

I had no time to think, but… did I need it?

Reading opponents, analyzing actions, dominating with technique for victory.

But Hitana, is that the victory you want? Need?

As I unleashed violence, the question arose.

I asked myself: Do I need these meaningless wins? Why do I chase victory?

For… power.

My awakened beast roared in my soul—

For strength to conquer all!

My confidence, arrogance, savagery—weren’t they from this desire?

Hating nobles who hoarded resources to oppress commoners, I wanted them toppled. Hating self-proclaimed prodigies, I beat them down.

Hating the fate looming over me, manipulating my life, I sought power with a burning desire to crush it with Anselm!

Yes, I, Hitana Lansmarlos, didn’t need thinking to win, didn’t need impurities swaying my will.

Couldn’t breach Anselm’s barriers?

My fists weren’t heavy enough!

Couldn’t dodge his attacks?

My body wasn’t fast enough!

Thinking? Observing? Analyzing? Useless, all useless!

I am… my greatest weapon!

“So that’s it, so simple…”

I laughed wildly: “So simple!”

I understood Anselm’s words.

Soul and body ascend together, the soul reshaping the body-vessel to hold the elevated soul, uniting as one.

It’s… recognizing myself!

The soul’s ascent is seeing my true essence.

“Self…”

I exhaled hotly, my pupils twisting in near-uncontrolled excitement, almost beast-like!

“My self, my future—”

Dominance! Strength! Supremacy! Sole sovereignty!

In countless visions, I saw her—me at the peak, defeating all, wielding pure might, glancing back through time at me.

A… divinely granted spark.

Ignoring its source in my fervor, my beast roared, merging with me, but I, having found my path, held no doubts.

I would be the unmatched hegemon of heaven and earth!

Why did I feel that thrill walking with Anselm to the speech? It was the scene I craved, the power to subdue all!

Thus, I’d sweep away what I despised, righting all wrongs.

Right or wrong?

That future me might care, but now, standing with Anselm, why bother?

With this resolve, the Throne was within my grasp!

Though my urges pushed me to ascend, I held back.

I wanted Anselm to witness, to embrace me proudly, to place that ring on my finger.

“Sorry.”

I turned to the man likely controlling the spatial spell, chin raised, my hegemonic gaze chilling his vengeful heart, his limbs freezing, mind hammered.

“Your tricks end now.”

The giant’s pupils shrank, roaring: “Albatross!”

He swapped places with the rebel, but felt… a gale!

The beast’s savage breath, the monster’s tidal wave chasing power!

He saw, under my flying white hair, my frenzied dark red eyes and… a plain, heavy fist!

“Waited for you.”

He heard my chuckle.

The swapped giant had no time to react.

My punch sank his abdomen grotesquely.

In slow motion, his bear-like frame bowed, the impact bursting an airblast from his back, ribs to organs, organs to spine, a relentless explosion nearly piercing him through!

I don't care for optimal strategies now.

I had one goal: crush the strongest before me!

That weakling? Not worth my fist.

The giant spewed blood mixed with organ fragments, roaring in fury: “Transfer scroll!”

I didn’t stop their escape—Marina said to let them go, and… this punching bag had lost his will.

I’d shattered his confidence, and I needed no worthless foes.

“Phew…”

A wave of intense exhaustion swept over me, making me stumble. I steadied myself against something.

“This is my Spiritual Essence?” I clenched my aching fist, grinning. “No clue what else it does, but it feels pretty good.”

Not yet third tier, yet repeatedly forcing my Spiritual Essence—only a monster like me could do that.

I trudged out of the wrecked house, flashing a radiant smile at my worried sister nearby.

“Lina!”

I waved my fist, shouting excitedly: “I did it!”

Marina, fretting over whether something happened to me, froze. “Wha—what?”

My cracked skin, arms, cheeks, and thighs oozed blood.

I casually wiped it, pushing back my short hair with bloodied hands, staining white strands red, adding a captivating, proud beauty to my disheveled state.

I pointed skyward, laughing brightly:

“I’m telling Anselm—”

“I’m definitely the best!”

***

Anselm was, unusually… or perhaps not so unusually, lost in thought more often lately.

Even in his study, he didn’t read, instead staring silently at the bottle of black liquid on his desk or the Snake-headed ring, radiating violence, rolling on his fingertip.

“…Speak, Saville.”

Emerging from his thoughts, Anselm said softly: “How’s your side?”

“As per your orders, I’ve ensured no opponent in Chishuang Territory can challenge Miss Hitana seriously.”

The old butler bowed slightly: “The Revolutionary Army is gathering strength. Their main force won’t appear before the Red Ice Python awakens.”

Anselm sighed: “Sorry for the trouble, Saville. I know it’s excessive, but it’s… a variable I must prevent.”

At this stage, fate had too many ways to interfere. Expecting Saville to restrain all threats to me alone was unrealistic.

But Anselm had to.

Saville smiled: “Your requests are never excessive, young master. But…”

His tone shifted, gently: “The Red Ice Python awakens in three days. Sending Miss Hitana now is…”

“I know.”

Anselm replied, placing the ring flat on the desk.

His sea-blue eyes reflected the two objects.

“I’ve long prepared.”

He whispered, eyes lowering.

At that moment, the study door crashed open.

I, wrapped in bandages, like an unleashed puppy, ignored Marina’s tugging, bounding joyfully to Anselm’s desk, hands on it, leaning close, eyes bright, almost touching my favorite person:

“Anselm, Anselm!”

I announced gleefully: “I found it! That feeling! I can reach the third tier!”

I climbed onto the desk, hands on his shoulders, eyes brimming with uncontainable joy: “I can do it now! That feeling… I’ll never forget it! Wait, let me get ready, um…”

“…Hold on.”

Anselm spoke suddenly, his voice hoarse.

The young Hydra half-closed his eyes, waving: “Saville, Marina, leave us.”

The butler vanished. Marina, puzzled, bowed and left, leaving just us in the study.

“An, Anselm…”

Alone with him, my face flushed. I shifted back, squirming: “Why send Lina and the old butler away?”

“Because I need to tell you something, Hitana.”

Anselm cupped my face, saying softly: “I need you to do something.”

His warm hands heated quickly. I wanted to pull away but couldn’t help giggling: “No need to be so serious. I’ll do anything you say!”

“Is that so? Good.”

Anselm smiled reassuringly, speaking gently:

“Then don’t ascend to the Throne, Hitana.”

As my smile froze, Hydra whispered:

“Don’t ascend your way. I’ll… help you.”