Super Righteous Player
Chapter 618 - 159 Anya Rasputin_1

Chapter 618: Chapter 159 Anya Rasputin_1

That was absolutely genuine hostility.

Dorin could be sure of it.

This was also one of the rural werewolves’ survival skills.

To avoid inadvertently offending someone who couldn’t be provoked, or to prevent an ambush when walking through the alleys. Werewolves were extremely sensitive to other people’s hostility—

In the moment she perceived danger, Dorin’s entire world turned a dull yellow in the blink of an eye.

The flow of time slowed down considerably, all stationary objects became blurry... and everything still in motion became strikingly clear and bright.

This premonition of danger was also one of the werewolves’ racial traits.

...But there was also a situation.

Just like now.

Even though she sensed the crisis, still nothing appeared before Dorin. In her view, apart from the wind stirring the curtains, it seemed like nothing was moving.

Dorin covertly glanced to both sides.

As expected, not being a Transcendent, she couldn’t see anything.

Despite feeling the gaze of many on her, despite sensing intense hostility and even murderous intent, she was utterly unable to detect their whereabouts.

"Dorin?"

Annan urged again.

"...Yes."

Dorin responded with a trembling voice, her slit pupils contracting back to round ones and she swallowed hard.

Under the cold eyes behind her, she slowly pushed open the door.

The first thing that entered her sight was not Annan.

It was a middle-aged man with many deep purple lines on his skin, hollow cheeks, and profound eyes.

He had meticulously combed gray-white hair swept back without a strand out of place. His hair was very fine, just like him. He seemed not to be in good physical condition, sitting in a chair, propping himself with a scepter that was split into silver, black, and deep blue, like talons gripping the ground.

His pupils were ice-blue, just like Annan’s right eye. His face bore roughly seventy percent resemblance to Annan.

But his pupils were even lighter than Annan’s eyes... Rather than ice, they were more like egg whites, slightly yellowish, which added to their translucency.

...Is this Duke Winter?

Dorin realized his identity in a flash.

It was the legendary Ivan Rime.

"You must be Dorin."

Ivan’s voice was steady, with a slight smile at his lips.

Unlike the sharpness Annan conveyed—if Annan was like a translucent sheet of ice giving a dangerous sense of calm, then Ivan was like a thick layer of snow covering this ice lake.

All sensation of danger was buried deep underneath the snow.

Yet at the same time, Ivan also gave a strange sense of distance and awe.

As if...

Underneath that snow, many bodies were concealed.

"...Yes, Your Highness."

Dorin’s originally anxious and fearful emotions also quickly calmed down under Ivan’s gaze.

She nodded, knelt to the ground, and responded softly, "My name is Dorin Angel."

"Hmm."

The Grand Duke of Winter responded softly, nodding slightly.

He suddenly asked, "Do you know Bella? She’s also a werewolf."

"...No, I don’t."

Dorin thought seriously for a moment and shook her head.

"I see."

Ivan sighed softly and gestured, "Sit by my side, child."

"—Please sit."

The same female voice that had sounded when Annan had entered echoed behind Dorin.

But this time, she wasn’t startled into panicking—perhaps because her emotions were already tensed to the limit, this sudden attack was actually expected.

She turned her head and this time saw the owner of the voice.

It was a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, her hair the exact deep-blue of the Grand Duke’s scepter.

On her left Ring Finger, she wore a transparent ring that continually emitted a cold mist as if it were carved from ice.

...Is this one of the high ranks of Winter’s Hand?

Dorin’s heart tightened.

She had heard from her teacher about the responsibilities of the ten high ranks of Winter’s Hand.

The Ring Finger of the left hand was directly in charge of all internal matters concerning the Duke, including food, housing, travel, attire—roughly equivalent to the "Unnamed Prince" of the United Kingdom, which was akin to the personal eunuch of King Dennisiowa, a position of considerable courtly stature.

Unquestionably, this was also a person of great importance.

Dorin rose to her feet and quickly returned the gesture with a respectful bow.

The "Ring Finger" faltered for a moment, then her lips slightly curled upwards, and her gaze seemed to soften.

Her left hand rested on Dorin’s shoulder, while her right hand silently gestured towards a seat in the corner of the room.

Although Duke Winter led a simple life, it did not extend to squalor. Calling it a chair was a bit misleading, as it was actually a plump, chilly sofa made of Frost Beast fur.

During the sweltering summer days, just nestling in it could cool one’s whole body. But the season was not that hot yet... fortunately, werewolves are not particularly susceptible to the cold.

Dorin settled into the chair, her eyes sweeping around the room out of habit.

She quickly noticed two portraits of women hanging above the bed.

One was a pretty, black-haired young girl with a gentle smile, her hair draped in front of her left shoulder and plaited into a herringbone braid.

The other bore an uncanny resemblance to Annan—she had beautiful long silver hair, secured with a headband. Even her expression was colder than Annan’s, her demeanor chill and aristocratic, emanating a sense of nobility.

This must be Annan’s birth mother, right?

Speaking of which, it seems that both of Duke Ivan’s wives have passed away.

...They had both willingly married the duke.

Dorin pursed her lips.

Since Duke Ivan was not a Transcendent, yet his talents were frighteningly high... it led to the short lives of each of his partners. Just like himself.

Of course, there was no shortage of nobles who had long coveted the Winter bloodline.

However, not everyone could withstand the test of the old grandmother.

The old grandmother was also the God of Tradition.

She didn’t care whether they were in love... if they were, that was naturally for the best, but if it wasn’t a love match, then at least the consents of both parties involved were needed—both man and woman.

Because a marriage by coercion is a seed of instability. It might mean that one party approached the other with ill intentions, leading to the blending and dividing of power after the offspring are born, which would bring about "instability" after the death of both parties.

And instability is the gravest assault on Tradition.

Therefore, large-scale marriage alliances were rare in the Winter Principality—nobles were more concerned about each other’s health and capability. Because this would affect their offspring, and consequently have a direct impact on the family’s legacy.

It was even more so for Duke Ivan.

His first wife was a commoner. She was not a Transcendent, nor a Ritualist, just a regular follower of the old grandmother.

And she too knew of Duke Ivan’s curse-like constitution. Yet, she was still willing to marry Ivan.

—Not willing to marry the duke, but to marry Ivan.

But true love can’t change reality.

After giving birth to two children, she died of illness.

And the duke’s second child died before even being named.

If the principality only had "Dmitry" as an heir, it could not be considered secure. And without any female heirs, who would inherit the Tower of the Storm?

Not to mention, Dmitry’s abilities could at best be described as mediocre. He was very hardworking, but indeed not smart enough, nor strong enough, and he wasn’t a Transcendent either.

At that time, a noble girl stepped straight into the duke’s mansion, declaring her wish to marry the duke.

She had no romantic feelings for Duke Ivan, and had never even met him before.

But after being tested with Divine Arts, it was revealed she did not lust for wealth or status. She truly wanted to marry the duke... rather than Ivan.

Her motives were pure and simple, yet they were hard for Ivan to accept at the time.

—Indeed.

It was solely for the Winter Principality.

At their first meeting, she bluntly stated that Dmitry’s abilities were insufficient to inherit the Winter Principality—with the tense situation of the principality at the time, if Dmitry took over, his inability to suppress all the nobles would only lead to internal fighting and the principality’s fracture.

"—It’s the nobles who contend, the commoners who suffer, and the Winter that is destroyed," she said.

Therefore, it was necessary to "create" a more powerful heir for the Winter Principality before the duke’s death; and also to ensure her future daughter could continue the unending mission of the Storm.

The then Lady of the Storm was Ivan’s aunt. She was already of considerable age, the only female descendant with the "Heart of Winter." If the Tower of the Storm lacked a successor, the Lady of the Storm would be forced to seek a Divine Child from The Holy Nation—meaning a transfer of power.

Ivan was initially very resistant to this marriage. He refused three times, consequently harboring no affection for this assertive young girl.

But later, he was conquered by her Wisdom, vision, and magnanimity.

—If she held the Blood of Frigid Winter, she would surely become a better duke than himself.

Ivan realized this.

And they quickly became friends—not lovers, but friends who could entrust everything to each other, discuss matters of the world and politics. This too became a tale told at the time.

Many of Duke Ivan’s highly effective and long-lasting policies were the brainchildren of his second wife.

In the end, they still got married.

She was Ivan’s second and last wife.

They had four children together, of which two survived the Heart of Winter’s curse. And in the end, she too, a powerful Ritualist, couldn’t withstand Ivan’s increasingly potent Frost chill, and like Dmitry’s mother, she died of illness between the sheets.

Dorin remembered that this remarkable woman was from House Rasputin.

She seemed to be called...

Anya Rasputin.

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