Idealists are inherently indestructible.
Even when obstructed, broken, knocked down, no matter how battered and bruised, they only ignite their spirit to fight unyieldingly time and again.
If so, then do not destroy them, but rather, destroy... their ideals.
"Your perseverance lacks foundation."
"You are ignorant of what true change entails."
"The salvation you seek only brings about greater calamity."
"Even those you wish to save do not desire such grace, instead pushing everything into the abyss with their own hands."
The young Hydral wielded the cold blade, methodically dismembering Ravenna Ziegler's existence, piece by piece, fragmenting her personality into disarray.
"Tell me, dear Ravenna, dear... Helen."
The devil's words once again became tender, filled with pity, such an extreme and split transition that his face became blurred and overlapping in Ravenna's eyes.
Which one is the devil set to destroy her, and which one is the father capable of guiding her?
"Are you willing to acknowledge your own nullity? Are you willing to accept that you know nothing of how to change everything, to accept your own weakness?"
"If you are willing—"
The youth who had patiently and gently guided and taught her seemed to return, he caressed Ravenna's cheek, murmuring with utmost concern, "I will grant you the chance to change this dire ending."
"...!"
Ravenna's lips trembled incessantly, she looked incredulously at the youth before her, who now smiled tenderly at her. Her lifeless eyes, after oscillating between hope and despair, sparked with the last fragile glimmer of light.
"A chance... for change?"
"Indeed," Ansel spoke softly, "I will find a way to retrieve those potions from Evora's hands, but the cost... may very well be yours to bear."
"I am willing, I am willing... I am willing!"
Amidst the all-consuming tempest, she found a beacon on land, a sliver of daylight glimpsed within the boundless darkness... The pitiable puppet, devoid of accomplishment and ability, beheld the possibility of redemption.
Even as she crumbled, no tears had fallen, yet now, her face awash with tears, she clutched at Ansel's sleeve, her voice choked with emotion: "If you can halt Evora, to alter this fate, any price would suffice... any price."
"Price? No, no, no, I did not inquire about the price, Helen," Ansel gently wiped away Ravenna's scalding, crystalline tears, his voice a tender caress, yet his words bore the venom of cruelty: "I seek only the answer to the question I posed just now."
Silence.
"..."
—If I had grasped the cascading consequences of a surge in grain prices, I could have intervened at the game's onset. Had I meddled, the entire situation would not have spiraled into this frenzied acceleration, and Evora would not have cast her gaze upon a common domain ubiquitous throughout the empire. Then, that dreadful future would not come to pass.
If I had understood what this upheaval would entail, none of this would have happened.
This is all... my fault. Just as Ansel said, despite chasing ideals for fifteen years, I remain ignorant of how to realize them; just as he said, I have yet to find the reason for my steadfast pursuit.
Just as he said... I am nothing.
"I..."
Gazing into those warm, sincere azure eyes, Ravenna found that accepting this truth did not bring the despair she anticipated.
She knew full well it was Ansel's stratagem, his exploitation of her vulnerability, yet she found no means to refuse, no reason to deny.
"You've been wanting to tie me to a bed since I was eleven, I'm all too familiar with what you're really thinking in this regard."
Ansel pushed Evora away with little effort, sat up from the bed, straightened his collar, and spoke calmly: "That scar will heal in three days, it's a minor matter. Moreover, I haven't even asked you for compensation yet."
He glanced at the displeased Elder Princess, chuckling: "Ravenna will soon come looking for you, trying to exchange those potions."
"...Tsk."
Evora smirked: "Poor little puppet, she must think it's all her fault... Hahaha, it's laughably foolish! Well... but then again, it could indeed be considered all her fault."
"Remember, act a bit more difficult, make it seem like me gaining your consent was a hard-won battle."
"You doubt my acting skills?" Evora snorted coldly, "I don't need reminding for that."
"Then let me remind you of something practical."
Ansel stood up, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window at a bright scene, indifferently said: "I know you'll think of asking for a higher price, but don't go too far, Evora."
He turned his head to look at the Elder Princess, who was sitting with her legs crossed, looking very casual and relaxed, a flash of darkness fleeting through his azure pupils: "Don't forget, I'm always watching."
"...What exactly is it about that little puppet that captures your attention?"
Ansel's icy threat, devoid of any concealment, caused a slight furrow in Evora's brow. "What do you... never mind, you wouldn't say anyway."
Evora, seemingly pleased with the imminent destruction of Suellen's plans and the prospect of acquiring something valuable, licked her lips in anticipation: "Then let me offer you a piece of advice, Ansel— I've taken note of this scar."
"Sooner or later..."
She touched her canine teeth, laughing wildly: "I will leave a mark on your... thing as well, one that you will both love and hate."
Evora's fiery laughter echoed in the bedroom, though she had already vanished from sight.
Ansel, turning his gaze back to the bright scenery outside the floor-to-ceiling window, felt no inclination to comment on Evora's words.
He held no interest in this woman who was solely devoted to her desires, but clearly went overboard, her mind consumed by various cravings. If any interest existed, it was only for the purpose of using her as mere pressure valves, once she got drained.
In Ansel's view, such a person, devoid of any intellectual depth, was equivalent to garbage.
Yet, Ansel found himself pondering the question Evora had posed
— What exactly was he paying attention on regarding Ravenna?
This contemplation was not for self-reflection but rather to consider from which aspect fate would intervene.
However... unbeknownst to Ansel, perhaps he was contemplating this question with this specific purpose in mind.
Reflecting on this question, Ansel only felt that... especially at the moment when Ravenna, despite acknowledging her own nothingness, still clung to a shattered semblance of her "ideal"...
Ansel felt a sincere disgust, even... hatred,
The direction of this disgust and hatred was unclear, even to Ansel.
"After this act of redemption is complete, only one step remains before the finale I've prepared for you over three years."
Finally, setting aside his tumultuous thoughts, Ansel softly mused with a smile:
"Helen, Ravenna..."
"Who will emerge as the ultimate victor?"
*