A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 467 Mother - III

Bang!

Ansel, having securely locked the door, collapsed, trembling as he clutched his head, murmuring to himself in a barely coherent frenzy:

"There must be a way... there must be a solution... Ansel... think quickly... think!"

"Think, damn it! Damn it!"

The boy's voice, youthful and raw, escalated into a scream. He collapsed to the ground, curling up as his fingers dug into his cheeks, the stark, crimson trails of blood evoking sympathy. Yet, paired with his eyes, brimming with madness, it sended shivers down one's spine.

"Mother... mother..."

"There must be another way, I must be able to protect you... I must..."

"I cannot flee, seek refuge, or wait for my father, and she is not their match... Ha... Ha..."

His breathing grew labored, his youthful voice distorting into something... overlapped, as if emanating from the throat of some bizarrely structured beast.

Power.

This word surfaced in the boy's mind.

Yes... power.

If nothing else avails, only a direct confrontation remains. In the face of an adversary mother cannot withstand, only I...

Only I can protect her, as long as I possess the power.

He scrambled to his feet, frantically searching through Flamelle's meticulously organized bookshelves, tossing to the floor one tome after another, each capable of turning fifth-stage extraordinary beings into rivers of blood.

"With just... power."

As he sifted through the books, he murmured to himself as if possessed: "I can... I am Hydral, I am a born deity... Even without inheriting father's power, even as merely a fifth-stage... even without a pact head, I can..."

In that moment, his eyes suddenly rippled with a pattern.

A pattern never before seen in his clear, sea-blue eyes — a pure black, abyssal... ripple.

"I can..."

Looking at the ominous, terrifying blackness, as if it would devour everything, even destroy himself, he murmured so gratefully:

"Not choosing a spiritual essence... was truly a blessing."

The selection of a spiritual essence is of paramount importance for the Hydral, as it pertains to their future growth trajectories—although the presence of the Head of Spirit grants them a second opportunity for choice, typically, the initial selection of spiritual essence determines the future of the Hydral.

Ansel, at the tender age of ten, has yet to choose the path he will pursue. Filled with wonder and curiosity about the world, and profoundly influenced by the vast knowledge from that world, the choice of spiritual essence is of utmost significance to him.

And now, young Ansel believed that this is undoubtedly the most correct choice in his life.

"I... feel your presence..."

The boy caressed his own pupil in the mirror with one hand, while the other touched his eyeball, his index finger even plunging directly into the pitch-blackness that nearly engulfs his entire eye.

"Power..."

He was not afraid, nor panicked, nor did he harbor any negative emotions, but rather whispered in contented bliss:

"Just grant me... the power to protect my mother."

"No matter the cost."

*

In Ansel's room, having completed the arrangements, Annelisa clapped her hands with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Finished! Oh, Ans will surely be moved to tears and rush into my arms!"

The day before yesterday, Ansel told Annelisa that he intended to continue inspecting the southern end of his domain. Although Annelisa found it puzzling—especially since he had just mentioned waiting for Flamelle before departing—she didn't dwell too much on it.

[Ansel is always so impatient, after all]

While pondering Ansel's inconsistencies, a sudden thought dispelled her doubts.

Of course, Annelisa also took care of the security arrangements meticulously, knowing that in this world, no one would dare attack a Hydral, but she wasn't careless enough to let Ansel wander alone.

This wait lasted two days, during which Annelisa was busy. Following her idea that day, she collected a plethora of gifts for Ansel in Hydral City, including greeting cards, and even as the news spread, gifts piled up like a small mountain at the entrance of the Hydral estate overnight.

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