Ansel of Hydral tightened the wolf fur cloak that his butler, Saville, had draped over him.

The sheriff, the tax officer, the minor lord... Although he had only been in the Red Frost territory for a month, he had already hanged eleven bureaucrats and nobles.

Did he possess the emperor's decree, had he gone through any procedures of approval, did he have any permissions?

Of course not, as Hydral didn't require such things.

Even though Ansel had yet to receive the authority of Hydral from his father, as long as he had a reason, a sufficient, adequate, and necessary reason, he could slay anyone in the entire empire, excluding the royal family, and the grand duke was no exception.

This is why Hydral, the greatest villain, made all the scoundrels in the empire shudder.

Soon, he would set off to meet the grand lord of the Red Frost territory, the Count of Red Frost, and have a friendly exchange about the many affairs of the Red Frost territory.

As for the reason... The reason that all the nobles in the empire, including the Count of Red Frost himself, could not comprehend why he suddenly came to the Red Frost territory to act recklessly and commit mass murder, some people were unclear, some people thought they understood.

After all, Hydral was very reasonable, and he also never reasoned.

The truth was only known to Ansel, as this was the first step of his crazy plan, that plan about fate... the crazy plan.

.

"Let's go, Saville." The young nobleman took the pitch-black snake-headed scepter with a crimson gem set in the snake's eyes from the butler's hand and strolled forward.

"We must not keep our count waiting."

The moment Ansel stepped out of the manor's gate, a deafening cheer arose from the surrounding streets.

"Lord Hydral! Lord Hydral is setting off!"

"The damned Count of Red Frost is done for, he's dead for sure! Lord Hydral will hang him at the city gate!"

Amid the disorderly and enthusiastic cheers and even roars that drowned out the howling wind, there were so many people gathered around Ansel's temporary manor in this severe weather of blizzard.

Ansel, holding the snake-headed scepter, smiled, he stood beside the carriage and raised a hand to press down.

So, the scene quickly fell quiet.

"I have heard your voices, citizens of the empire."

The young nobleman's radiant blond hair fluttered in the snow, his youthful voice that still retained a few traces of immaturity was resolute at this moment, it was unshaken even by the howling north wind.

"So, I am here, so you can vent your anger here, and they--"

The righteous Ansel of Hydral slightly bowed to the commoners around him, raising his hand to point to the right, where a wide scaffold was erected.

As Ansel's finger gradually pointed up, the breaths of the commoners became increasingly urgent, they were as eager as hunters waiting to share their prey by the bonfire after a hunt.

"They are only fit to stay there."

Ansel, pointing at the eleven dried corpses hanging there, declared in a high voice.

"Ohhhhhh--!"

This cheer was almost a roar, mixed with a fierce anger that even the cold winter could not extinguish in the near-tearful ecstasy.

In this tide of cheers, the young nobleman calmly smiled, calmly like a madman overlooking the sea view on a solitary lighthouse in a storm.

When the tide calmed down, he looked up again and said, "Now, I am going to meet the Count of Red Frost, your lord."

Ansel looked around, "What do you want me to say to him?"

The crowd was silent for two seconds, then erupted into a variety of curses that couldn't be distinguished at all, the sea tide instantly turned into a volcano spraying lava.

This time, Ansel didn't wait for them to quiet down, his young and powerful voice drowned out the noisy arguments, this good-natured nobleman representing justice and benevolence, promised the commoners with a big laugh:

"I will tell him--"

"I am here, and I have left him a spot."

Ansel bowed slightly again, then boarded the carriage next to him, and soon disappeared into the snow.

"Hydral!"

After a few seconds, someone shouted out loud.

"Hydral!" "Hydral!" "Hydral!"

No one would doubt this young man's enthusiasm and compassion anymore. A month ago, he came to the Red Frost territory, from the border villages all the way here, he executed three sheriffs, six tax officers, and even two minor lords! Every three days, a villain dies in the hands of Lord Hydral!

Now, he is setting out to find the Count of Red Frost.

He is certain to fulfill his promise; no one doubted it. No one doubted the benevolence and justice of Ansel of Hydral.

.

"Clang!"

The sound of clinking goblets resonated in the resplendent banquet hall.

"I am profoundly grateful, my lord."

The rotund and towering Count of Red Frost let out a deep chuckle: "Those rabble have not been so obedient in a long time. In just a month's time, it took only nine insignificant wretches to bring so much peace to the Red Frost territory, all thanks to you."

At this moment, the compassionate and righteous Lord Hydral was surrounded by beauties, his nape propped against a woman's abdomen, his feet placed on soft and firm thighs, his hand not holding the wine goblet was deeply buried somewhere on a woman kneeling by his side, kneading and stroking.

Ansel, with his marine-blue eyes half-open, swayed his wine goblet leisurely: "These are but trifles, Count."

He yawned, completely devoid of the enthusiasm he had when lecturing the commoners: "I will make the Red Frost territory easier to govern, but the condition is—"

Clap, clap—

Without Ansel saying more, the Count of Red Frost clapped his hands promptly, and immediately someone came forward with a pile of documents in both hands, presenting them to Ansel with utmost respect.

"Everything you asked for is here."

The Count of Red Frost did not look at those documents.

He did not want the young nobleman in front of him who appeared harmless to capture any painful expression on his face, thus increasing the latter's dissatisfaction.

Because the one sitting opposite him... was none other than Hydral.

The Hydral who possessed unlimited adjudication and hunting rights over the empire's nobles, only responsible to the royal family... no, only accountable to the emperor!

Although this generation's Hydral was still young, before he wore those eight rings, he was not a complete Hydral, naturally, he had not received the butcher knife hanging over every empire noble's neck from his father's hands.

But the Count of Red Frost still dared not show the slightest disrespect to the young man teasing the beauties around him.

Because he was... the strangest Hydral.

As the emperor's mad dog, the Hydral family carried the madness that couldn't be controlled by their will; in the thousand years of the empire's history, although the Hydrals had different personalities, not a single one was not a madman, at most some were thoroughly mad, some were inwardly mad.

But Ansel of Hydral, he seemed... he really was the mutant among the inheritors of the blood of madness.

He started appearing frequently in the vision of the empire's nobles without any signs when he was ten years old, attending various banquets and activities. No one could connect the obedient and cute child with Hydral.

And as he grew older, the obedient and cute child turned into a courteous and polite youth. Over the years, his pretentiously reasonable father had exposed his true nature many times—massacre at the Black Sea Marquis Mansion, huge disaster at Camphorwood Faran, great tranquility at Deep Blue Port City...

When the current Hydral was going everywhere like a mad dog, the young Ansel of Hydral actually... actually was running around to clean up after his father!

Therefore, the nobles of the empire gradually believed that this young man was truly the mutant of the blood of madness.

He was elegant and kind, approachable, a noble among nobles!

After all, who could pretend to be a person from ten years old and never make a mistake until sixteen? Could it be that he knew how to deal with people from the womb?

This is also why the Count of Red Frost was willing to deal with Ansel. Although he didn't know how he was caught by Hydral, but at least the dear Lord Ansel was willing to negotiate friendly, rather than behead him on the spot.

"The Count might think that I ask too much."

Ansel played with his five fingers in the pouting eyes of the beautiful maidservant with a smile: "But if it was my father here, you might already, um... I'm not threatening you, just stating the fact."

Under the somewhat fearful gaze of the Count of Red Frost, the young nobleman with a roguish smirk nonchalantly scanned the documents on the table.

Smuggling routes, looting paths, human trafficking networks, the black market distribution... All the detailed information about the gray benefit chain within and outside the Red Frost territory was all here.

"Quite..." Ansel murmured softly with fascination in his eyes, "An exceptional treasure."

As he uttered these words, he also effortlessly took in the joy that surfaced on the Count of Red Frost's face.

Ansel knew these nobles all too well. When you knock on their door with a bloody butcher's knife, they would become hysterical, panic-stricken, and might even act recklessly without considering their own lives.

But if you were to hold a bloody butcher's knife in one hand and an empty money bag in the other, they would rather greet you with a bow and a smile; the larger the money bag, the more at ease they would feel.

The Count of Red Frost knew that once the network he had operated for many years was exposed, the monarch on the throne, although senile and foolish, but still looking down on the world, would not leave him a way out—in short, letting the mad dog named Hydral tear him to pieces.

Therefore, even though Ansel was about to swallow the huge benefit network he had painstakingly operated for so many years, he actually breathed a sigh of relief.

Ansel took over the black scepter, which was equivalent to sheltering those who offered the scepter.

This was a rule tacitly acknowledged among the nobles.

After all, the amiable and pure Lord Ansel was a normal person! He loved fine wine and loved beautiful women even more. How could a normal person refuse one of the largest black interest areas in the north?

Just then, someone suddenly barged into the banquet hall. Before the relieved Count of Red Frost could angrily question him, he hurriedly came to the Count, who thought the situation was settled, and whispered something, while casting a nervous glance at Ansel, who was in a drunken stupor.

The two-meter-tall, four-hundred-pound Count of Red Frost twitched his eyelids, and the fat on his face sagged a little.

He tried to maintain his smile and asked in a probing tone, "May I ask... my lord?"

"Hm?" Ansel, who was teasing the maidservant like teasing a kitten, making her eyes blush and panting incessantly, turned his head: "What's the matter, Count?"

"Khalid and Nakiska..."

"Oh, your two sons. I just hanged them yesterday and forgot to inform you. I apologize."

The amber candlelight and faint fragrance of women seemed to freeze at this moment.

Even the beauty selected by the Count of Red Frost, who had undergone extremely harsh mental training, became rigid in an instant.

"It's such a pity, your neck is especially beautiful, it reminds me of a piece of pottery that Her Majesty cherishes." Ansel sighed gently, his palm slowly sliding to the snow-white slender neck of the woman he had just stroked.

The one-in-a-million beauty trembled incessantly. She only felt something slippery and cold wrapping around her neck, slowly wriggling, tightening.

"Beautiful girl, am I very scary?"

The young noble, who could easily take a married woman to a private rest room from the dance floor of a banquet just by his looks two years ago, said with a very gentle tone.

The woman whimpered and shook her head. She didn't know what she was afraid of. The young man's way of stroking her neck was ten thousand times sweeter and gentler than those ruthless trainers. If it were normal times, she would have already been lying in his arms, panting uncontrollably.

But now, she only felt darkness. Dark, wet, viscous stuff surrounding her, binding her, pulling her... into deeper unknown.

"My lord, my lord!" Seeing Ansel casually brushing off his concerns, the Count of Red Frost opened his mouth with a touch of trepidation, "If those two idiots offended you, it's fine if they're dead, but... but before you came, it seems..."

"It seems I said something about you, the Count, that was rather unflattering?"

"This... haha... I know you must have a deeper intent--"

"Of course! How could I betray my friend?"

Ansel let go of the hand stroking the beauty, spread his arms and laughed heartily, "That of course was merely a jest to appease the commoners. Don't you find it amusing to see them so excited, placing all their hopes on me?"

The Count of Red Frost was taken aback, but then he too burst into laughter: "Right, you're right! That scene was indeed quite entertaining, it's a pity I couldn't see it, haha! Haha... ha..."

"...Ha."

The laughter in the banquet hall gradually subsided.

Ansel remained silent, his laughter ceasing.