Chapter 211: Anguish and Cries from Hermione and Esther

"YOU ARE THE WORST!!!"

Hermione shouted.

"YOU SAID YOU'D PROTECT US!! YOU SAID YOU WOULD KEEP US SAFE!!! YOU…YOU SAID YOU WOULD SHIELD US!!!"

Ulrich did not answer.

Hermione struck at his chest with both hands.

"YOU LET THEM TAKE HER!!!"

Her voice broke.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!! I WANT AIREM BACK!! LET ME GO!!"

Ulrich held her tighter when she tried to pull away.

Esther was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

"P…please," she pleaded.

Her voice was small beneath Hermione's screaming.

"Please, Lord Ulrich… I want my eldest sister back. Let me go…. I cannot be without her…"

Then her plea became a scream.

"I CANNOT!!"

Ulrich held both of them.

His body was exhausted. His wounds burned. The broken sword remained in one hand, its edge lowered against the grass.

But he did not let them run into the dark after Airam, after their sister, despite at the end, they wished to stay by Airam's side.

"I—I will never forgive Lord Ulrich!" Esther cried, unable to hold back her emotions.

"Please, let me go!!! I want to see Airam!"

Ulrich did not answer.

Esther clutched desperately at his arm.

For the first time since she had met Ulrich two years earlier, she looked at him with anger rather than trust and admiration. Tears filled her blue eyes. Her face had gone red from crying, and her hands shook as she tried to pull free from his hold.

"I—I HATE LORD ULRICH!!"

The words came out broken.

"I hate you!! I hate you!!"

Ulrich's expression did not change.

Esther's tears fell harder.

"I hate you!"

"Let us go!" Hermione screamed beside her.

She struggled against Ulrich's arm, twisting toward the forest path where Airam had disappeared. Her eyes searched desperately through the smoke and darkness, as though she might still catch one final glimpse of her sister's white nightgown between the black armor of Valdris's soldiers.

"We would rather be with Airam than stay here!" Hermione shouted. "Let us go!"

Ulrich remained silent.

Hermione struck at his chest.

Her fists hit torn cloth and bloodied skin. Ulrich did not flinch, though the blows landed near the wounds Valdris and the serum-enhanced knights had left across his body.

"You promised!" Hermione cried.

Esther clung to his sleeve.

"I want my eldest sister back!!!"

Neither girl received an answer.

Ulrich's gaze remained fixed ahead.

The Valmorian soldiers were gone from sight now. Their footsteps had faded into the darkness beyond the trees. The forest path stood empty, swallowed by smoke and moonless shadow.

Hermione and Esther screamed until their voices weakened.

They called Airam's name again and again.

They cursed Ulrich.

They begged him.

They fought against his arms until their bodies no longer had strength left.

Then a pale light appeared around Ulrich's fingers.

A small Formula Ring formed beside his hand.

It was simple.

A low-ranked sleeping spell.

Ulrich released it.

The magic touched both girls at once.

Esther's struggle weakened first. Her hands slipped from Ulrich's sleeve. She blinked slowly, confused by the sudden heaviness settling over her body.

"No…eldest sister…" She whispered.

Her eyes closed.

Ulrich caught her fully against his chest.

Hermione remained awake for a few seconds longer.

She glared at him through tears, her expression shattered by grief and rage.

"I...won't...forgive you…" She whispered.

Then the sleeping spell pulled her down as well.

Her eyes closed.

The night became quiet.

Only the fire remained.

Its flames crackled in scattered corners of the clearing. Smoke drifted through the destroyed camp. The dead Rubenhart knights lay where they had fallen, their armor reflecting the dim firelight.

Ulrich stood in the middle of it all with Hermione and Esther unconscious in his arms.

Then he turned.

He walked across the clearing.

His steps remained calm and even despite the blood soaking through his clothes. He moved past the bodies of his knights, past broken shields and fallen weapons, past the black armor of the Valmorian soldiers who had died before the tent.

Hendrick and Rina waited near the surviving Rubenhart knights.

Both looked exhausted.

Hendrick had one hand pressed against his injured side. Rina leaned against the supply crate, her wounded shoulder bandaged roughly beneath cracked armor. Neither spoke as Ulrich approached.

He handed Hermione to Hendrick.

Then he placed Esther carefully in Rina's arms.

"Keep them asleep," Ulrich said.

Hendrick looked down at Hermione's unconscious face.

"My lord…"

"Use suppression darts," Ulrich continued. "Keep their witch veins quiet. I do not want them waking in panic and throwing spells around."

Hendrick's expression fell.

The instruction was necessary.

Hermione's and Esther's emotions were unstable. Their grief could awaken their mana cores or stir the dangerous power within their witch veins. If they woke before the battle was truly over, they might hurt themselves, Hendrick, Rina, or anyone close to them.

"Yes, my lord," Hendrick said quietly.

Rina nodded.

She carried Esther toward a surviving blanket near the tent while Hendrick laid Hermione beside her. Their movements were gentle. Both girls looked peaceful in sleep, though tears still marked their cheeks.

Rina took two narrow darts from the small pouch attached to her belt.

Anti-Witch Dart, that was something they obviously always had in possession.

The tips carried a faint blue liquid.

She administered them carefully, one to Hermione and one to Esther. The suppression medicine entered their bodies slowly, keeping their witch veins dormant without harming them.

Neither girl stirred.

Rina remained beside them for a moment.

Her hand hovered above Esther's hair but did not touch it.

Then she looked toward the nearby bodies.

Only a few Rubenhart knights remained alive.

One lay unconscious near the ruined tent wall. Another had been dragged beneath a blanket, his breathing shallow. The rest would never return to the Estate.

Rina's gaze moved to Ulrich.

He had taken off his coat.

Then his shirt.

The cloth fell to the ground beside him.

Rina stared.

His body was covered in blood.

Cuts crossed his ribs, arms, shoulders, and back. Some were shallow. Others had opened deeply enough that blood continued to run down his skin. Burn marks covered one side of his chest and shoulder where Valdris's lightning had struck. Bruises had already darkened across his ribs and abdomen.

He looked much worse than he had after fighting demons.

Worse than after the battles where he had returned to the Estate barely able to walk.

Ulrich sat down on a large stone near the stream.

He picked up the broken half of his sword.

Then he formed a small fire spell around the blade.

The metal glowed.

Heat traveled through it until the edge became red.

Rina's eyes widened.

"My lord—"

Ulrich pressed the heated blade against the wound along his side.

The smell of burned flesh rose into the cold air.

His body tensed.

A faint twitch crossed his eye.

But he did not make a sound.

He moved the blade away, heated it again, and pressed it against another cut. Then another. He cauterized the wounds one by one, stopping the bleeding.

He looked almost in a hurry as he did it roughly, ignoring the pain and whatever scars it might leave behind.

Rina rushed toward him.

"My lord, stop."

Ulrich ignored her.

She caught his wrist before he could press the heated blade against the cut on his upper arm.

"You will make the injuries worse."

Ulrich looked at her.

His eyes were deep red.

Blood had gathered in the white around them from the lightning, making them appear almost entirely crimson beneath the firelight.

Rina swallowed.

For an instant, she wondered how he remained conscious.

He should have collapsed.

He should have been lying in the mud after taking an Advanced lightning spell head-on. He should have been unable to stand after fighting Valdris, then ten serum-enhanced knights, then four more.

Yet he sat before her, calm and silent, holding the burning fragment of his own sword.

"My lord," Rina said again, more softly. "Let me treat you."

Ulrich released the broken blade.

Rina took it from his hand and extinguished the heat with a small water spell.

Then she opened the storage ring attached to her finger.

Medicine vials, bandages, needles, and healing salves appeared around her. She worked quickly. She cleaned the wounds first, wiping away blood and dirt. Each time she found another cut beneath his hair or across his back, her expression tightened.

Ulrich did not move.

He sat still while she treated him.

Rina bandaged his ribs.

She wrapped his arms.

She applied medicine to the burns across his shoulder and chest. The ointment hissed faintly when it touched the damaged skin.

"My lord," she said at last.

Her voice had become strained.

"I did what I could. But you need a proper physician. Immediately."

Ulrich did not answer.

He sat on the stone for several more seconds.

Then he raised one hand.

Crimson mana gathered above his palm.

A small ring appeared in the air.

It was not a Formula Ring but a spell.

It looked more like a circular map made from light. A crimson dot moved slowly within it, heading east through the darkness. The dot had weakened, but it remained visible.

Ulrich stared at it.

Then he closed his hand.

The spell vanished.

He stood.

Rina stepped back.

Ulrich picked up his bloodied white shirt from the grass.

He put it on without a word.

The fabric clung to the bandages beneath it. He buttoned the shirt slowly, one button after another, ignoring the pain in his injured arms. Then he gathered his crimson hair behind his head and tied it back.

Hendrick watched him.

"My lord?"

Ulrich did not answer immediately.

He walked through the clearing.

Near one of the fallen Valmorian soldiers, he stopped and bent down. The man's black anti-magic sword still rested beside his body.

Ulrich picked it up.

The weapon was heavier than it looked.

Black metal reflected the firelight without truly shining. Mana around it felt wrong, as though the sword swallowed the energy that came close to it.

Ulrich swung it once.

Then again.

Blood clung to the edge.

He wiped the blade against the dead soldier's trousers until the worst of it was gone.

The sword sat naturally enough in his hand.

"My lord?" Hendrick called again.

Ulrich turned.

"Take them to the Rubenhart Estate," he said.

Hendrick's face changed.

Rina looked up sharply from beside the unconscious sisters.

"M-My lord," Hendrick said, taking a step toward him. "You cannot be thinking of—"

"Take Hermione and Esther back to the Estate."

Ulrich's voice remained calm.

"Take the survivors. Travel under guard. Do not stop unless the wounded need it."

"M—My lord, you cannot possibly be thinking of going after them!"

Ulrich looked toward the dark forest.

The crimson dot had disappeared from sight, but its direction remained clear in his mind.

"Hendrick," he said.

"My lord."

"If I do not return, have Fabian prepare my succession."

Hendrick froze.

Ulrich continued.

"Hermione and Esther will inherit my territory and wealth."

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Rina stared at him.

Hendrick's hand clenched into a fist.

"My lord," he said. "Please reconsider..."

Ulrich looked at him.

"This is not a discussion. This is an order from your Count and lord," he said. "Do you understand?"

Hendrick stood silently for a moment.

Then he lowered his head.

"Yes, my lord."

Rina bowed as well.

"Yes, my lord."

Ulrich did not give them another glance.

He looked once toward Hermione and Esther.

The sisters slept close together beneath the blanket. Esther's hand had found Hermione's even in unconsciousness, their fingers loosely intertwined.

Ulrich watched them for only a moment.

Then he turned away.

The anti-magic blade rested in his hand.

He stepped past the ruined tents and into the darkness beyond the camp, following the path Airam had taken along, Valdris and his knights.