A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 726 Judge the Disloyal - I

In the austere study, Ansel finalized the last document on his desk, massaging his temples with a weary sigh.

Three days had elapsed since the battle to vanquish Evora, and the repercussions of the Duke and other extraordinary organization leaders' annihilation were beginning to manifest.

Over these three days, Ansel had collaborated tirelessly with the Garden, working without respite to reorganize the affairs of various imperial territories. Yet, despite their ceaseless efforts, they had only managed to complete nearly two-thirds of the task at hand.

Due to the influence of fate, Ansel had been exceedingly cautious in recruiting followers and nurturing his power base, maintaining his inner circle at a size where he could exert absolute control over each member. Consequently, when faced with matters encompassing the entire empire, even he found himself stretched thin.

— Had it been merely a matter of perfunctory management, allowing the common folk to scrape by, he would not have been so vexed. However, Ansel was incapable of such superficial governance.

Those who could be swayed, utilized, or transformed into puppets, and those who must be eradicated... Although Ansel ostensibly had no remaining enemies, the chaos ensuing from the leaderless extraordinary beings would undoubtedly pose significant challenges.

While the process essentially boiled down to intimidation and persuasion, facing such a vast empire and countless families and organizations, Ansel—who had not yet attained the sixth stage and could not strike fear into the hearts of men by name alone—still had a considerable journey ahead.

Hydral's gaze slowly drifted to an envelope on the desk, containing real-time war reports from the northern front, delivered twice daily by Shadewell, who had been lying in wait in the region.

This arrangement had only begun three days prior. With the western affairs concluded, Shadewell had finally been able to dispatch personnel to the north. Previously, Ansel had not stationed anyone in that frigid land, as it had been unnecessary, or rather... premature.

Ansel had already perused the contents of the report. The Revolutionary Army had achieved another significant victory. With Ironblade and Gray Tower refusing to join forces, the New World was making rapid advances in the north, having already seized nearly half of the territory.

To Ansel, neither the New World nor Ironblade and Gray Tower were of consequence anymore. The extraordinary beings in the north, even combined, were no match for God from the Machine. Given more time to develop, Seraphina might not even need to reach the fifth stage; if she further mastered her powers, she could likely rampage through the north unimpeded.

Thus, Ansel's focus was not on the implications of victory or defeat represented by the war situation, but rather on the progress of a certain matter.

In the original timeline, Seraphina would have still been wandering at this point, while Ravenna would have been walking the earth alone due to the collapse of Babel. The whereabouts of the church's saint, burdened by great sin, would have been unknown, and the hero destined to revolutionize everything would have just begun to rise to prominence.

Ansel had accelerated everything, and if fate wished to respond, it would undoubtedly have to hasten the progression of certain events as well.

"Polonia's ethereal concealment, originally destined to metamorphose into the Grand Silencing Art in three years, could conceivably bypass this four-year interval if fate were to deliberately accelerate its progression," Ansel mused, resting his chin on one hand and tilting his head as he fingered the envelope pensively.

The introduction of the Holy Church had become an imperative for Ansel, whether to resolve Marlina's predicament, to consolidate control over the empire, or to navigate the crucial narrative that lay ahead.

He harbored no apprehension about the Holy Church potentially turning against him, for he was acutely aware of the true nature concealed beneath its veneer of divine worship.

... However, the possibility that fate had already exerted some influence over the church could not be dismissed. The two pact heads of Flamelle, inexplicably lingering on the other side of the continent, stood as testament to this.

In the original timeline, they had not remained with the church for nearly as long, and had even vanished without a trace.

Though Ansel now held a position of great power, he could not afford even a moment's complacency in his ongoing chess match against fate.

Having mentally formulated the framework for his forthcoming tasks, Ansel took up his quill and began inscribing ethereal-infused words upon a rare, special scroll.

This routine was likely to persist for a considerable duration. While monotonous, it was not a lifestyle Ansel abhorred.

Though vigilance remained necessary, he no longer needed to constantly strategize against fate at every turn. Hydral's footing was no longer as precarious as it once had been.

Knock, knock —

A sudden knock at the study door interrupted Ansel's meticulous work.

Even through the closed door, Ansel sensed the identity of his visitor. Slightly surprised, he raised an eyebrow.

"Enter," he called out.

In response to Ansel's invitation, a wheelchair slowly rolled into the room.

"I apologize for the unexpected visit, Lord Ansel," the black-haired girl in the wheelchair said, offering a gentle smile. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

-->