A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 711: The Lost Demon and The Dark Witch - III



"I know... you despise that power and don't want to use it at all. You just have no choice. So, no matter what Marli becomes, don't blame yourself."

"...Alright," Ansel murmurs, lowering his gaze and stroking Seraphina's hair. "I won't blame myself."

Having secured Ansel's promise, Seraphina's face immediately brightens with a radiant, innocent smile. "I'll save Marli, don't worry, Ansel!"

Her trust and love are as pure as ever, so pure that... Ansel finds himself at a loss for words.

Perhaps if he were to say more, he might no longer be able to conceal the truth about Marlina's transformation.

This can't continue. He needs to have Seri and Venna leave.

Ansel feels he needs to adjust his emotions. In this fluctuating state, he's unsure if he can even keep the plans within the rift hidden. However, asking them to leave abruptly would be too suspicious...

Having Seri and Venna go to save—

Just as he instantly thought of using Seraphina, Ansel's mind freezes once again.

This time, he finally understands why he's always felt an inexplicable unease, a kind of... resistance towards the concept of "salvation" and the kindness that Seraphina and Ravenna speak of.

Because too often, for Ansel, these are not ends… but means.

Similarly, his former self would never have cared about such matters. For the devil of yesteryear, even feeling a hint of compassion while unhesitatingly committing evil acts would have been considered a blessing, let alone actively performing good deeds.

It's no exaggeration to say that the devil of the past would scornfully judge the current Ansel as... weak.

That devil, who manipulated, toyed with, and dominated everything, had no attachments in his heart—only the desire to shatter fate.

Yet, the present Ansel... has attachments.

An encumbrance that makes him increasingly intolerant of his former self, as well as the ugliness and malevolence within his current being.

However, he finds himself... has no choices.

"Seri, Venna."

The youth's voice was scarcely above a whisper. "While I yearn to chat with you further, there are… countless souls awaiting your salvation, are there not?"

"Oh!" Seraphina exclaimed, suddenly realizing. Her expression grew anxious. "We had only intended a brief rest before Shadewell was to take us elsewhere. I lost track of time talking with you!"

"It's too late now, and it would have been too late even if we'd left earlier," Ravenna remarked calmly, not missing the opportunity to chide Seraphina.

"You really must break this habit of losing all sense when you're with Ansel. He's more mindful of those civilians than you are."

"What... what can I do? It's not a habit I can simply change," Seraphina grumbled, unable to argue.

"Besides, doesn't this prove how much Ansel cares for them?"

"I'm well aware of Ansel's inherent goodness. You needn't reiterate it over and over," Ravenna said, her eyes narrowed. "If we delay any longer, we might miss the chance to save someone who could be rescued."

"Ah, true. Well then, Ansel, we'll be off!"

Seraphina wrapped her arms around Ansel's neck, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips.

"By the time you return, I'll have saved even more people. I won't disappoint you, Ansel!" The young girl, her cheeks flushed, pumped her fist vigorously before dashing out, brimming with energy.

Ravenna glanced at Seraphina's retreating figure, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before placing a gentle peck on Ansel's lips.

"Be safe. Should dire circumstances arise, summon me without hesitation."

Ansel nodded, and a smile graced Ravenna's typically impassive features before she dissolved into particles, vanishing without a trace.

It was only after three or four minutes had elapsed that the smile on Ansel's face gradually faded.

He had uncovered the root of his emotional turmoil and self-doubt, identified the source of his confusion, but to what end?

Should he attempt to alter the instincts honed to combat fate, now impossibly ingrained, or relinquish the two girls who had become as vital to him as life itself?

The young Hydral silently took a seat on the windowsill. As he gazed upon the refugees outside, his perspective had shifted dramatically, a self-deprecating smile playing across his features.

Salvation... what exactly did he aspire to save?

At that moment, a gentle knock sounded at the door.

"...Enter," Ansel said dispassionately, his head resting against the window.

He knew full well who had arrived, yet found himself devoid of any particular thoughts. His sole desire was to compose himself before the impending bloodshed.

The masked Nine entered, standing at the threshold, her gaze fixed upon Ansel seated by the windowsill. Inscrutable emotions flickered within the depths of her obsidian eyes.

"Mr. Ansel," her husky voice resonated through the room, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

A silence of approximately three to four seconds pervaded the chamber.

Then, Ansel spoke softly, "For the time being... maintain some distance, Marlina."

"Only Number Nine is present, Mr. Ansel," Nine's tone remained unperturbed by this command.

"Seri is worried about you," the young Hydral finally turned to face her. "You're an intelligent girl, Marlina. Surely you've realized that your current state is dire."

This time, it was Nine who fell silent.

Ansel, assuming she had taken his words to heart, said no more. He returned his gaze to the street outside, his sea-blue eyes reflecting the blurred landscape of the mortal world.

"Just now, you were silent for 3.3 seconds," Nine's voice, though hoarse, still conveyed a sense of calmness and gentleness, once again broke the silence.

She showed no signs of distress or anxiety.

Before a surprised Ansel could speak, she continued, "That's unlike you, Mr. Ansel. You always maintain your best composure in front of others, never revealing such distinct anomalies."

"Have Miss Seraphina and Miss Ravenna added to your burdens again?"

She said: again.

Ansel refocused his gaze on Nine's mask, his eyes stern and cold.

"Nine, do you comprehend what you're saying?"

"Am I mistaken?" she replied, showing no sign of fear or trepidation. Instead, she folded her hands before her abdomen, reminiscent of the ladylike posture she had once strived to present to Ansel after her initial etiquette lessons.
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"If I am," she continued, seemingly talking to herself, "Then, Mr. Ansel, are you expecting something from me?"

"Are you anticipating that I might discern the anguish and unease, the vexation and melancholy in your heart?"

"Otherwise, why would you, who never reveals abnormalities to anyone, display such an obvious vulnerability only in my presence?"

"Because I don't care," Ansel's face was now devoid of expression. "You're lost in self-delusion, Nine. Your condition is beyond remedy."

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