Chapter 135 A Question Shouldn’t Exist - II
"Father."
Ansel interrupted Flamelle's words. He seemed to have no intention of reminiscing with his father, even though they hadn't seen each other for two years, even though he still addressed Flamelle as "Father".
"I have an important matter to discuss with you."
Flamelle paused, then laughed and raised his finger. A cup filled with a pale golden liquid appeared out of thin air in his hand.
He took a sip and said with interest, "It's rare for you to come to me just to 'ask' something, Ans."
Ansel didn't waste words. He stared straight into his father's eyes, which were the same deep blue as his own, and said seriously:
"Have you ever failed in the process of signing a pact head?"
"..."
The alchemist, whose scholarly achievements were unknown to all, was stunned for several seconds.
"Uh... Ans, what did you just say?"
Flamelle rubbed his temple.
"I failed," Ansel replied, "I found the pact head I needed, but she couldn't establish a connection with me."
After saying this, he fell silent.
Flamelle also fell silent. He sipped his drink, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. After about two or three seconds, he finally spoke:
"Ans, you need to understand one thing — for us, signing a pact head, the so-called 'signing', is just a description."
"...I know," Ansel murmured.
There is essentially no contractual relationship between Hydral and the pact head. The process of making an entity a pact head is simply using the supreme essence of Hydral to "assimilate" the other party into a part of him. In a sense, it can be considered a form of conquest achieved through pure force.
In other words, the will of the pact head has no effect in this process.
"There is theoretically only one possibility."
Flamelle shrugged, "Our status and elements couldn't overpower the other party, so the assimilation failed... wait—"
His expression changed, and he looked at Ansel with an extremely expectant gaze, exclaiming excitedly:
"Ans, are you trying to make the daughter of Aephisander your pact head? Really! If it's true, I will—"
"No," Ansel interrupted Flamelle, who had suddenly become excited, "It has nothing to do with Flamefeast."
"...What is it, Father?"
Ansel stopped, only showing Flamelle his profile.
"I was thinking, if it's not the other party's problem, then—"
Flamelle started to say, but then stopped. After pondering for a moment, he laughed and shook his head.
"No, it's not possible. Forget what I said, I won't interfere with your thoughts."
He raised his cup to Ansel, "Come to the capital when you have time, your mother misses you."
"..."
Ansel didn't say a word, he left without hesitation.
As the door closed completely, Flamelle scratched his head and sighed:
"Ma'am, raising a child is really a difficult task. Ans has reached the age where he dislikes his parents, what should we do?"
"Never mind, Ans always has his own considerations, there's nothing to worry about."
Flamelle originally wanted to say, if there's no problem with the other party, then the problem... could it be with him, as Hydral?
After all, if Ansel didn't intend to make the other party his pact head, how could there be any effect?
But thinking about his son's character and abilities, Flamelle dismissed this possibility.
After all, his son, Ansel of Hydral, how could he be indecisive in such matters?
Outside the door, on the way to the teleportation circle, Saville and Lawrence followed behind, watching Ansel, who was walking alone in front, no one spoke.
They could feel that Ansel was in a bad mood, a very bad mood. That strong oppressive feeling was something Flamelle almost never emitted.
But to say they were afraid, they were not at all.
Among Flamelle's pact heads, Saville and Lawrence had the best relationship with Ansel.
They had accompanied Ansel since he was a child, so at this moment, Saville and Lawrence were not so much afraid as... heartbroken.
Because even though Ansel had always maintained commendable manners during his growth, being gentle and composed... some things were still noticeable.
They didn't know when it started, but their young lord, this young Hydral—
He was always alone, unwilling to travel with anyone else.
*