Taming the Protagonist

Ch. 86



Chapter 86: An Unacceptable Answer

“…Don’t ascend?”

I froze: “But why? Didn’t you say I just needed that feeling?”

Anselm paused, then said softly: “Your Spiritual Essence is special. I underestimated fate’s influence, thinking changing your mindset could let you ascend differently or… alter your Essence’s nature.”

“No, I should’ve succeeded.”

He murmured: “Even if I couldn’t change your Essence, your failure to find that feeling proves it.”

Anselm’s rational chains bound me, his undeniable victories numbing me.

Even feeling this mindset didn’t suit me, I couldn’t pinpoint why.

Like his dominance in Xiaofeng Fortress, as long as he controlled me, I, unaware of my essence, sank into victories, never finding the source of that unease.

Even if Saville hadn’t fully blocked opponents forcing me to fight freely, I shouldn’t have grasped it in one battle.

“This speed… isn’t normal.”

Anselm seemed a stranger, murmuring in a chilling, detached tone that scared me.

His sea-blue eyes, like frozen ice, held only cold dissection as they gazed at me.

“Though it’s shown lately, he must've set traps earlier.”

“Hitana.” Anselm stared at me. “Beyond the future I showed you, in dreams or any form, have you seen your future self?”

“I, I…”

I shrank back: “I don’t remember… Anselm, what’s wrong? Did I upset you?”

I leaned forward slightly, whispering: “Sorry, did I mess up again?”

“…”

Anselm opened his mouth, looking at my cautious, worried, slightly fearful eyes, then sighed softly, closing his eyes.

“…Sorry, Hitana.”

His eyes regained their warmth, hand stroking my hair: “When facing serious issues, I sometimes lose control like this. Scared you?”

Seeing his usual self return, my eyes lit up. I nuzzled his hand, smiling: “Hehe… no, as long as you’re okay—er, I mean, as long as I don't mess up.”

“Just tell me if there’s a problem.”

I rolled over, lying on the desk like a cat, baring my belly, tilting back to look at him, touching his cheek: “Is it about fate?”

After a brief silence, Anselm nodded slightly.

“Ugh… what’s going on?”

I rubbed my head, frustrated: “I don’t feel manipulated.”

“Back to the question.” Anselm looked down at me. “In any form, have you seen your future self?”

“Future self, future self…”

I frowned, thinking hard, then my eyes lit up, shouting: “I remember! I dreamed of fighting the Emperor! Her name was… uh, what was it?”

“Sulun Flame.”

Anselm’s eyes lowered: “The next Emperor, currently the youngest princess.”

“Huh? That was real?” I said, incredulous. “I didn’t take the dream seriously… but I was awesome! Fighting her, she couldn’t handle me!”

I giggled, cupping Anselm’s cheeks: “If I get that strong, I can do anything for you!”

Anselm, head lowered, glimpsed the fire in my eyes.

Unspoken, but deep in my heart, a burning desire for power, for that greatness.

Undoubtedly, that dream planted a spark, a node to ignite my self-awareness, fuel to drive my hunger for power.

Anselm hadn’t shown me my full original future, only my suffering, preparing for this moment.

But—

So, before I could fully tame Hitana, fate prepared her?

Even Anselm hadn’t expected fate to do this—in countless probes, that lofty existence never revealed the “future” to anyone.

This showed my value, and fate’s… ruthless resolve to keep me from Anselm’s grasp.

“But… What's His point?”

I frowned, confused: “I’m still ascending to the third tier, right? What’s fate trying to do?”

“…I said, your Spiritual Essence is special.”

Anselm said: “In extraordinary history, it ranks among the top.”

“That’s super awesome!” I widened my eyes, thrilled. “Once I hit the third tier and become your Contract Head, no one could beat me!”

Imagining my future self, boosted by Anselm’s power, I pictured pummeling the Emperor, giggling.

“But I don’t want you to awaken it.”

Anselm’s words froze my smile again.

I grabbed his collar, confused and aggrieved, shaking gently: “Why? If I get that strong, can’t I help you better?”

“…It’s not necessary.” Anselm said softly, placing his hand on mine. “Hitana, to me, you—”

He hesitated long, then said:

“You don’t need to be that powerful.”

“Not… necessary?”

I met his eyes, repeating blankly: “Not… necessary?”

“First, the Emperor won’t be our enemy in my plan, so we don’t need that level of power.”

Anselm explained: “Second, as my Contract Head, you’re already strong enough with my support, even without your Essence. You have exceptional combat talent. And even if you got stronger, your power’s scope is narrow—”

“That’s not right!”

I shot up, half-kneeling on his desk, saying urgently: “What’s wrong with getting stronger? With your help, I won’t mess up again, right? If I won’t mess up, shouldn’t I be as strong as possible?”

Anselm saw the burning defiance in my dark red eyes.

If anyone but him told me “you don’t need to be strong,” I’d have lost it.

Who’d abandon that vision?

Who’d forsake power rivaling the world’s strongest?

I’d seen my future self’s height, the power she wielded.

Even an ordinary person couldn’t accept this, let alone me, driven by a relentless pursuit of strength.

More than that, in my eyes, Anselm needed… power most now.

I wanted to help him, so why wouldn’t he accept it?

Why did he say I… didn’t need to be that strong?

The restless beast in my soul roared in defiance.

Looking back, I realized it was like this at the start… in Xiaofeng Fortress, facing that assassin.

My Spiritual Essence, forcibly driven, gave me exceptional physical strength, but by choosing thought and reason over my raw power, that strength waned even though I defeated the assassin.

When I doubted my power, that beast roared in anger and frustration.

…Anselm, was he preparing even then? Was he scheming for this moment?

Sourness welled up in my heart. I looked sadly at the silent boy before me, wanting to question him but unable to speak.

I knew Anselm was smarter, better at fighting fate, and his actions were surely right.

But I was still so sad.

Every night, I fell asleep thinking of growing stronger tomorrow, of helping Anselm better.

So why… Did he treat me like this?

Didn’t he say he’d always stand by me, never abandon me?

“…Anselm.”

I forced a smile: “I know you have your reasons, far better thought out than mine, so… even if I don’t understand why, I’ll… obey.”

“But—”

I leaned forward, eyes full of hope and pleading: “Can you tell me why? Why can’t I get stronger? Do you not need me? Or… will I cause trouble later?”

“Anselm, you wouldn’t lie to me, right?”

My soul’s self roared in fury, enraged at my weakness, my pleading.

This anger tainted my emotions, deepening my confusion.

Even so, I waited hopefully for Anselm’s answer.

Any answer, as long as it was honest like always, I could accept.

But that hope, in the long silence… turned to torment.

Anselm didn’t answer, just stayed silent.

“…Anselm?”

My voice trembled: “Why… why won’t you answer?”

“Hitana.”

After ages, Anselm met my eyes, replying calmly: “I think not answering is best for both of us.”

“Because you…” The young Hydra faced the beast in my dark red eyes, nearly roaring at him, “wouldn’t accept the answer.”

“…I wouldn’t accept, wouldn’t accept?”

I muttered, trembling, then snapped my head up, grabbing his collar, shouting in grief and anger:

“I accepted that crazy fate stuff! I told you so much… you promised me so much! Now you say I won’t accept?!”

“Anselm! Tell me! What about you… what about you can’t I accept!”

The emotions, the intimacy, the hopes of this time… turned into cruel blades by his cold, distant words.

“How could I…”

My grip on his collar slipped, my head resting on his chest, murmuring in despair and sorrow.

“How could I not accept what you say, Anselm?”

“…”

Hydra looked down at my trembling white hair. His hands on the armrests lifted slightly, but only slightly.

He remained unmoved.

My body still shook, but Anselm heard no sobs.

Unknowingly, I wasn’t that weak anymore.

“…Sorry, Anselm.”

After a long pause, I said softly: “I said harsh things. I was too willful.”

“…No.” Anselm touched my hair, saying softly, “It’s fine if you resent me. Everything I do is for myself.”

“I won’t resent you.”

I looked up, forcing a smile: “I just… need to calm down.”

I thought I was close to Anselm, the closest in the world.

But now, I realized, even sharing that wild secret, a gap I couldn’t grasp lingered.

I never truly understood Anselm, couldn’t see past his ever-gentle, smiling face to his true emotions.

I didn’t resent him, I just felt sad, heartbroken.

“When you need me to ascend, find me.”

I said softly: “I’ll stay here these days.”

I stepped back, watching his face, saying:

“Goodbye, Anselm.”

Anselm met my gaze, expression unchanging, nodding calmly: “Goodbye, Hitana.”

As the study door closed, visible dark matter surged wildly, dancing on walls, floor, ceiling, desk, and shelves, an intangible, great mystery radiating outward.

A normal person entering would be seized by this force, witnessing sights beyond a lifetime, collapsing in madness and ecstasy, their essence unable to bear it, dissolving into nothingness from soul to body.

“Phew…”

With Hydra’s sigh, the endless mystic particles vanished, as if never there.

“Prepared long before, just as I tried to restrain Marina’s wildness early on?”

Anselm never underestimated fate, having tasted countless failures after assumed victories.

So, when I made my promise, he thought he’d only outplayed fate slightly, a trivial edge not deciding victory.

“…Beast.”

Preparing for his final gambit with fate, Hydra closed his eyes, murmuring complexly:

“Hitana, why must your essence be Beast?”


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