Ulrich stood alone on the rooftop, his only companion the dead body cooling against the stone behind him.
He held his sword out for a mont before slowly lowering it. Reaching into his coat pocket with his free hand, he pulled out a small cloth and set to work cleaning the blade with careful strokes. He drew the napkin along the full length of the steel several tis, wiping away every last sar of blood until the silver surface was as immaculate as it had been the mont he first unsheathed it.
When he was satisfied, he tossed the stained cloth aside and raised the sword before him, scanning the blade as it caught the sunlight and threw back a clean, brilliant gleam.
Then, without warning, he drove the blade into the rooftop stone.
His left hand shot up to cover his mouth.
"Coughh—!"
Blood splattered against his palm imdiately. His dark reddish brows drew together in a strained furrow. A second cough racked through him before he finally pulled his hand away and stared at the dark red sared across his palm, his breathing coming in short, controlled draws.
As expected.
He was still far from truly mastering the Hollow Core, and in all honesty, he had likely pushed far beyond what he should have today. Maintaining an Advanced Spell as a pre-laid trap was already extraordinary on its own. But Ulrich had sustained a Rank 4 Spell while simultaneously fighting mbers of Libra and casting additional offensive magic, including a Rank 3 Spell, mid-combat.
The worst of the strain, however, ca from sothing else. Beneath the Advanced Spell, Ulrich had carefully woven a layered stealth spell to conceal the trap’s very existence from Libra’s mbers, hiding not just the effect, but the presence of the magic itself.
Maintaining several spells simultaneously was not sothing ordinary mages could do.
A typical person, with a single-layered mana core, could sustain and operate one spell at any given mont. Those gifted enough to unlock an additional layer within their core could theoretically double that number. But even among talented mages, it remained a rare and difficult achievent.
Ulrich’s core, however, worked on a different principle.
His was a Helix Core, a structure that bore no resemblance to the traditional layered model. Rather than stacking layers atop one another, his core was composed of three interconnected Springs, each one coiled into the others through narrow Rung Channels that acted as conduits, spinning mana through the full length of each Spring before channeling it outward through the body.
In simple terms, the number of Springs could be roughly compared to the number of layers in a conventional core, aning Ulrich could theoretically maintain up to three spells at the sa ti.
In practice, however, the Helix Core behaved differently even from that. Because it was a legendary core by nature, its inner workings defied several conventional limits, allowing Ulrich to sustain more spells simultaneously than the number of Springs would normally permit. But that advantage ca at a steep price; the strain it placed on the body was considerably harsher than what a standard core would inflict under similar conditions.
And then there was the other complication.
The core had not originally belonged to Ulrich.
Even two years after he had co to possess it, the core still showed occasional signs of rejection, subtle but there. Yet despite that resistance, sothing had been slowly shifting. The core was beginning to recognize him. It was learning, in its own quiet way, to accept Ulrich as its rightful master.
Ulrich pulled a second cloth from his pocket and wiped his bloodied hand clean.
Then he carefully lifted the sword and sheathed it back into the dark brown leather scabbard hanging at his hip.
He spared the dead man one last glance before stepping toward the edge of the rooftop and jumping down, landing smoothly in the narrow street below.
After that, he simply made his way back to the armory by the sa path he had taken before, weaving calmly through the crowd as though nothing had happened.
"My Lord."
Hendrick was the first to greet him, giving Ulrich a slightly longer look than usual. After hearing Esther’s frightened cries about him being in danger, he had expected sothing far worse. Yet from what he could see, Ulrich seed perfectly fine.
"Lord Ulrich!"
The mont Ulrich stepped back inside, Esther sprang to her feet, calling out louder than necessary.
But the instant Ulrich looked at her, she lost her voice.
Behind her, Airam and Hermione had also risen from their seats, both of them staring at him in silence for a brief mont.
All three sisters had noticed it.
There was blood on his sleeves.
It was not imdiately obvious against the crimson coat he wore, but beneath it he had on a white tunic, and the fabric at the sleeves had been stained red.
"Um... are you okay?" Esther asked timidly.
"I am," he replied.
Then his gaze shifted briefly toward Hermione.
It was difficult to tell what exactly lay in that look, but Hermione felt nervous all of a sudden.
He definitely knew.
That bird had not escaped his notice.
He had realized the spell was hers.
But in the end, Ulrich said nothing about it.
Instead, he turned to Hendrick.
"We are leaving," he said.
He didn’t want to take any more risks today by staying outside with the sisters.
"As you wish, My Lord," Hendrick answered with a nod, already moving ahead to see to the carriage, which the coachman had conveniently brought before the shop.
The sisters followed after Ulrich and climbed inside the carriage behind him, taking the sa seats as before.
At last, they were heading back to the estate.
For a first outing in the city, it had gone rather well.
They had been given the chance to choose gowns and jewelry, and Ulrich had definitely spoiled them, perhaps even far too much. But in the end, the day had taken a dangerous turn with Libra’s sudden appearance.
Even if those people had not co expressly to kill them, but rely to assess whether they posed a threat, as that woman had claid, there was nothing comforting about it.
Today, Ulrich had protected them.
But in doing so, he might also have placed himself directly against Libra, simply by choosing their side and adopting them in the first place.
Ulrich himself, however, did not seem to care.
He looked as calm as ever, though there was the faintest strain in his expression now, subtle enough that one could miss it if they did not pay close attention.
As expected, even he had likely not foreseen Libra appearing there.
In the novel, the sisters had been captured and enslaved by a nobleman who had kept their whereabouts carefully hidden. More than that, they had even been believed to be dead.
So naturally, no one had taken any interest in the daughters of Anna-Maria when the world thought they no longer existed.
But Ulrich had formally adopted them.
Three witches.
And he had made no effort to hide it. Rather, he had ensured that everyone knew.
Because of that, the entire situation had changed.
Now, everyone knew that Anna-Maria’s daughters were in Ulrich Van Rubenhart’s custody.
And with that, dangers that should never have existed in the original story had begun to appear.
It was not as though Ulrich had failed to anticipate this. On the contrary, he had expected trouble sooner or later, but he had assud the threat would remain centered around witches.
If Libra and others like them entered the fray as well, the situation would beco dangerous very quickly, and even he might not be able to protect the sisters for long.
The only real advantage in his current situation was that the demons were, in a sense, on his side. Or rather, because he had made that agreent with them and chosen to cooperate, they would not move against him, and by extension, they should leave the sisters untouched as well.
Yes... If such a thing could even be called fortunate, then perhaps that was the only good part of it.
Still, Ulrich knew perfectly well that he was playing a very dangerous ga.
He was already standing in the middle of forces that could each turn catastrophic on their own: demons, witches, and now a dangerous cult-like organization as well.
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