In the office of the lord of Pelican City, Count Watson stood behind Ansel, bowing extremely humbly and said:


    "Lord Ansel, I have arranged everything as you instructed, I have selected the outstanding farmers from all over Watson''s territory, and other preparations have been made as well."


    His voice was so excited that it trembled, it seemed as if he wished he could just rece the lord of this small city and be the lord himself.


    The opportunity to gain Ansel''s favor was incredibly rare... Last time, he rose to prominence, eliminated the troubles within his territory, and even obtained a lot of spoils of war from the Spirity Lake Territory, bing the absolute ruler of thisnd.


    Now that Ansel hase here again, Count Watson couldn''t even imagine how much he could benefit from simply following Ansel''s instructions meticulously and rigorously.


    Thinking of this, Count Watson felt somewhat envious of the Count of Spirity Lake


    That utterly defeated guy, not only was he not punished by the empress, but he also turned misfortune into a blessing, being incorporated into Hydral''s territory... Could there be anything better in the world?


    What? Lost the dignity of nobility, lost the inherited territory and glory?


    To talk about dignity in front of Hydral, are you out of your mind or am I crazy?


    But fate is unpredictable, envy aside, Count Watson still focused on doing his own tasks well.


    Knock, knock —


    The knocking sound echoed, and before Count Watson could speak, Ansel had already invited the visitor in.


    "Come in."


    The wooden door opened, and a petite female schr entered the office, standing at a distance from Ansel before speaking, "Lord Ansel, Miss Marlowe has taken half of the potion to Breeze City, and I have the other half here."


    "When shall we start..."


    "Why stand so far away?" Ansel, obscured by therge back of his chair, chuckled lightly, "Am I that frightening? Helen?"


    "…" Ravenna''s body trembled slightly, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice as she approached Ansel.


    "Of course not, fa...ther."


    Count Watson, standing by, was utterly bewildered. He nced at Ansel''s back and then at the petite girl(?), feeling a sudden chill.


    Could it be that knowing something he shouldn''t have would lead to his mysterious death?


    As Ansel listened to the approaching footsteps, until Ravenna was beside him, a smile appeared on his face.


    The young Hydral looked out at the view of the territorial city from the balcony, patted his thigh, but said nothing.


    "…" Ravenna silently walked over, gathered her skirts, and sat on Ansel''sp with her legs together.


    With one arm around the miss puppet''s waist, Ansel chuckled, "How are the preparations?"


    "The potency of the potion has been tested multiple times, with no side effects. It can transform barrennd into fertile soil suitable for cultivation within three days, adaptable to any nt. Regardless of the crop nted, it can survive. Besides regr watering, no fertilization is needed.


    Crops that normally mature once a season can now mature weekly, with each harvest''s yield and quality increasing by three to five times."


    Ansel raised an eyebrow slightly, saying nothing, but Count Watson, upon hearing this description, was utterly dumbfounded.


    Crops that mature once a season now maturing weekly, with increased yield and quality, capable of growing all crops, and without any side effects?


    What…what kind of sorcery is this!


    Exaggeration aside, if this could be deployed across the entire empire, theoretically, it could eradicate all hunger within a month.


    This potion, to be used on his own territory?


    Count Watson was so excited he nearly fainted.


    "It sounds like the effects are quite good."


    Ansel patted Ravenna''s head, "It will save a lot of waiting time, well done, Helen."


    "…It''s my duty, father."


    Ravenna resisted this title, yet not as much as she had anticipated.


    The word "father," when not spoken in jest or as a joke, is profoundly significant. Unfortunately, Ravenna had never felt this greatness in her life.


    Thus, when uttering these two words, she did not resist as much as she thought she would.


    "Excellent, kindly deliver the potion to Count Watson," Ansel gently patted Ravenna''s shoulder, signaling that she was dismissed.


    Yet, before she could depart from Ansel''s embrace, Ravenna cautiously reiterated the question she had asked countless times before.


    "I shall not intervene, nor shall you, and no extraordinary beings will either. This domain shall continue to operate under its established ordinances, correct?"


    "Of course," Ansel''s smile was pure innocence, "That is precisely the spectacle I wish to behold."


    "…Very well."


    Taking a deep breath, Ravenna removed the pendant from around her neck, rose from Ansel''s side, and approached Count Watson.


    "Contained herein are all the potions, along with a diagram detailing their application. There will be no further replenishments, so you must distribute them ording to the prearranged n."


    "I… I understand, Miss Helen."


    Count Watson knelt promptly and decisively, his hands trembling as he epted the pendant, his heart pounding erratically.


    "I will execute Lord Ansel''s directives with utmost precision and meticulousness, please rest assured."


    "Lord Ansel," his voice quivering, he then inquired, "So, may I now…"


    "Proceed, but do not err, Mr. Count."


    Ansel, who had not once nced at Count Watson, waved his hand dismissively.


    "Yes, yes! I shall not disappoint you! Certainly not!"


    Once Count Watson had hurriedly departed, Ansel rose from the sofa, stretchingnguidly.


    "So, we wait a week before we assess the oues."


    The youthful Hydral tilted his head slightly, looking at Ravenna: "What do you suppose their first week will be like?"


    After a moment of contemtion, Ravenna softly replied: "Ecstasy, bliss, incredulity… something along those lines, I presume."


    As she spoke, her expression unwittingly softened.


    "When the issue of sustenance is resolved, it won''t just be the farmers who find sce. The impoverished will have ess to food that is not only more affordable but of superior quality, visibly enhancing everyone''s lives."


    "Once hunger is no longer a concern, and one can truly be satiated, hope for life will burgeon."


    Miss puppet cast her gaze towards Ansel, not too far yet not too close, her eyes slightly downcast:


    "This is what you taught me, Lord Ansel…"


    "You mustn''t cling so tenaciously to my words, Ravenna."


    Ansel raised an eyebrow: "It would seem as though you harbor an excessive fondness for me, oh no, that''s incorrect… an excessive fondness for the Ansel of Hydral who will no longer appear."


    "That is somewhat foolish and repugnant, don''t you agree?"


    "Lord Ansel," Ravenna stepped forward, locking eyes with Ansel, "Is this truly just a game to you?"


    "You seem to have a clear understanding of most matters."


    Ansel, quiteposed, met her gaze with a smile, "Why not continue to use your wisdom to guess, to observe?"


    After staring into those sea-blue eyes for more than ten seconds, that icy ck pupils resembling those of a serpent suddenly shed before Ravenna, causing her to instinctively avert her gaze in a mix of surprise and defeat.


    "I… give up."


    In the end, she simply whispered, "To bring change to all this, to actively initiate change… Lord Ansel is undertaking such actions, and I neither wish nor possess the right to question it."


    "As long as it can be achieved—"


    "As long as the vision you wish to see can be achieved."


    Ansel''s smile grew wider, as if a serpent''s tongue flickered at the corners of his mouth.


    "Unchanging, ever unchanging… that is you, Ravenna, but… it''s of no consequence."


    His gaze drifted towards the balcony, over the domain, and beyond to the wilderness.


    In seven days, that ce would be lush, teeming with life.


    But… what about after the second seven days, the third, the fourth? What, ultimately, would remain there in the end?


    It seemed unlikely tost until the fourth set of seven days, so perhaps… the third.


    Let the crops grow wild, robust, willful, and free.


    Bring to my dear Ravenna, to dear Miss Helen, the beautiful scene she wishes to witness, carrying your best wishes.


    *