A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

In the alchemy workshop, the swarm of Nidhoggurs operated in an orderly fashion, though not as efficiently and extensively as those commanded by the peerless Ravenna, but Helen's control level was also rapidly improving.

Ansel observed all this, his expression one of contentment, as he spoke:

"What progress do you think Helen will make after she consumes you?"

He spoke clearly not towards Helen, so it could only be…

Restrained by the binding device, the silent Ravenna kept her eyes closed, not uttering a word.

That day, the victorious Helen did not slay Ravenna, nor did she consume her soul to make it her own true essence.

For Helen told Ansel that she feared such direct consumption might allow Ravenna's psyche to infect her own, and she did not wish for her newly reborn, pure self to be tainted by the remnants of the past. She wished to wait until Flamelle was available to perform a sufficiently precise "surgery".

Ansel agreed, and so Ravenna was spared.

Receiving no response, Ansel continued his soliloquy: "These three years, you've done nothing but research those arcane tomes and perceive the world through Helen. So I'm quite curious, Ravenna — what is it that has caused your hatred for me to grow to such a degree?"

Hearing this, Ravenna opened her eyes, coldly retorting: "Aren't you the same?"

"Me… the same?"

Ansel paused momentarily, then covered his brow, unable to restrain his laughter.

"Yes, yes... I am the same."

He reached out, caressing Ravenna's blue-grey tresses, his tone gentle but his gaze icy:

"I, too, have hated you for these three years; I, too, have never cared for you; I, too... have no intention of granting you any opportunity."

The young Hydral suddenly grasped Ravenna's hair forcefully, leaning in to murmur:

"If I were like you, there would be no Helen, no Ravenna, nothing... would exist."

Ravenna's expression did not waver despite the pain, her violet eyes meeting Ansel's, shining with icy coldness.

"You wish to disguise your condescending attitude as affection for me? Even after openly admitting that everything was a lie, even now in your triumph, you still seek to stand on high and judge me?"

"How hypocritical, Ansel."

Ansel remained silent, simply releasing Ravenna with indifference, no longer looking at her.

But the next moment, the restrained Ravenna let out a pained groan, and Ansel instinctively turned his head, immediately discerning the issue.

"...Helen."

He averted his gaze from Ravenna, speaking softly: "Enough."

The Helen controlling the Nidhoggurs burrowing into Ravenna's flesh had a cold expression. "She must pay the price for her insolence and arrogance, Father."

Ravenna's cries of agony grew louder, and Helen showed no signs of restraint, her lifeless, hollow eyes filled with savage cruelty. After a few seconds of silence, Ansel spoke again:

"I said, enough."

"..."

The petite Helen immediately ceased her actions, bowing her head to Ansel and replied, "Understood, Father."

Gazing upon her, Ansel's eyes and tone quickly softened: "There is no need to be so enraged on her account, Helen. When engaged in creative pursuits, one must not allow external influences to so easily perturb one's state of mind."

"Anything related to my father cannot be considered an external influence."

Helen responded: "That is the very essence of my state of mind."

Ansel glanced at Ravenna, who was biting her lip with a furrowed brow glistening with sweat, then looked towards the steadfast Helen and smiled:

"That will not do, for it shall become your weakness... Do not be so feeble, Helen."

Helen's mouth opened and closed, then she asked in a soft voice, her eyes downcast:

"...Is caring for you a weakness?"

"I mean an excess of care."

Ansel, speaking as if truly instructing his daughter, said with utmost seriousness: "I need you to love me, to be loyal to me, and I am most pleased that you love me so and are loyal to me... But you must remember, Helen, that you must never be enslaved by these feelings. You must always be able to make — "

As he spoke, it seemed he had recalled something.

The young Hydral averted his gaze, fixing his eyes upon the empty corner, and calmly stated:

"You must always be able to make the most correct choice."

"I understand." Helen nodded gently. "If that is what Father desires."

Ansel smiled and said, "Good, then continue with your work. If there is anything you need from me, do not hesitate to ask."

"The Etheric Armaments to be delivered to Evora are nearly complete, but two of the three master alchemists seem to have fallen into the abyss and are on the verge of madness because of it..."

"I will handle it. You have done well, Helen."

Ansel rested his cheek on his hand, half-lidding his eyes as he spoke: "Most timely."

"Regarding the enhancement of Nidhoggur... I wish to reference Master Flamelle's essence of Creator, perhaps it could open a new path."

"I will inform him once his side is complete."

"Understood, Father. Besides that, I... have one more question."

Returning to her research, Helen asked calmly: "Is the Empress your enemy? You have never directly told me who or what it is."

After some time, Helen heard her father's gentle, serene voice: "For now, let us consider the Empress as such."

It was clear her father still had no intention of revealing the true identity to her.

Helen detected the additional meaning in his words, but showed no displeasure, only nodding solemnly: "I understand. The Empress is your enemy, then... I will most certainly create a weapon capable of slaying even the divine for you. Please have faith in me."

"I have every faith in you, Helen." Ansel replied with a smile.

"I have taken up too much of your time. If you have other matters to attend to, you need not remain here any longer."

Helen turned to him, her lifeless eyes brimming with devotion: "Even without you by my side, I will give my all for you, for the one who can change the world."

Ansel did not speak, but simply nodded with a smile and rose to leave the alchemy workshop.

As he exited the workshop, permeated with the scent of steel and flames, despite having confirmed that everything was progressing in the best direction, he did not feel much joy.

He now had a pact head who was absolutely loyal to him, possessing talents that even fate seemed to favor, and whose loyalty might even surpass that of Seraphina. Yet, once the overwhelming sense of fulfillment and delight had dissipated, Ansel of Hydral could no longer grasp hold of them.

Two faces, identical in appearance yet starkly different in expression, emerged in his mind.

One, so cold, so distant, bearing a deep-seated loathing and rejection, yet so resolute and vibrant.

The other, so devoted, so loyal, permeated with profound dependence and warmth, yet so... desolate and empty.

In this gamble, no matter who won or lost, Ansel would not be the one to lose, for he would obtain what he desired.

Yet, regardless of the outcome...

He had truly and forever lost… his friend.

"I had just spoken those words to Helen."

The young Hydral shook his head with a wry smile: "And now I'm pondering these utterly meaningless matters."

In an instant, the loneliness and bewilderment vanished from his eyes.

Do what is right, Ansel, for your enemy is constantly watching you, manipulating everything around you, even... including yourself.

Therefore, eliminate all possibilities of being disturbed by Its threads, and do what is correct.

Ansel raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the layers of ceiling, reaching the towering fortress miles above.

The pivotal moment to change everything lies here.

"Father,"

he murmured softly:

"I will overcome all, I promise you."

*