Chapter 244: Unexpected Visitor at the Estate

After speaking with Shana and settling the matter of her future role within the Estate, Ulrich returned to his room.

He summoned the physicians shortly afterward.

The treatment was inconvenient, painful, and slow, but Ulrich preferred careful, natural recovery over anything reckless.

His body had endured enough strange methods already. Poison, demonic mana, the serum Valdris had forced into him, emergency preservation spells, and mana pushed past every safe limit, he had no desire to add another dangerous shortcut unless there was no alternative.

He wanted to recover properly and completely.

He had three years before the events of the novel truly began.

Three years to strengthen House Rubenhart.

Three years to prepare the sisters.

Three years to turn the Hollow Core into something he could control without destroying himself in the process.

And three years to reach the peak of his own ability.

He would not allow a lost arm, damaged mana pathways, or a few near-fatal injuries to slow him down.

So Ulrich lay on his bed once more while the physicians resumed their work.

His shirt had been removed to give them access to the wounds across his chest, ribs, shoulder, and left arm. The scars from the battle had begun to close, but they remained ugly and raw in places. One physician carefully cleaned away the old ointment before applying a fresh layer of pale medicinal salve.

The ointment had a faint restorative effect.

It would ease the pain, reduce swelling, and support the body’s natural recovery.

Ulrich lay still through it all.

This time, he was awake and fully aware.

And that made the treatment far less pleasant.

His eyes stared toward the far side of the room.

Airam, Hermione, and Esther stood there watching.

Or, at least, Hermione and Esther were trying to watch.

Esther hid partly behind Hermione’s back, peeking out only when she believed Ulrich was not looking. Each time her eyes landed on the bandages, scars, or the empty space where his left arm had been, she quickly looked away again.

Hermione was not much better.

Her face had turned noticeably pink. She tried to focus on the curtains, the bookshelf, the physicians’ medicine case, anything except Ulrich lying topless on the bed.

But every few moments, her gaze drifted back toward him.

The moment Ulrich noticed, Hermione immediately looked away.

Airam, meanwhile, did not bother pretending.

She stood with her arms crossed, staring directly at Ulrich and the physicians as they worked.

"What are you doing here?" Ulrich asked at last.

Hermione startled.

"W—well," she said, "we only wanted to see whether you were recovering properly."

"Do something more useful with your time."

Hermione’s cheeks reddened.

Esther peeked out from behind her sister.

"C-Can we stay, Lord Ulrich?"

Her voice was small.

"We are worried."

Ulrich looked at her.

Esther’s blue eyes lowered immediately.

"I will be fine," he said.

"Oh."

Esther’s shoulders fell.

Ulrich watched her for a moment.

Then he exhaled quietly.

"Stay if you wish."

Esther’s face brightened at once.

Hermione looked relieved.

Airam did not react.

She had already begun moving.

While Ulrich spoke to Hermione and Esther, Airam crossed the room and climbed onto the edge of the bed. She sat beside him without asking permission, close enough that her shoulder nearly brushed his uninjured arm.

Ulrich glanced at her.

"You are bothering the physicians."

"I am not."

Airam looked toward the physician nearest to her.

The man froze.

"O-Of course not, my lady," he said with a nervous laugh.

Airam turned back toward Ulrich.

Ulrich stared at the physician.

The physician immediately lowered his gaze and resumed applying the ointment.

Ulrich decided to ignore Airam in the end.

His attention shifted to the second physician, who stood beside the wooden case containing his severed left arm.

The limb had been cleaned overnight. The corrupted tissue around the injury had been removed. Fresh preservation compounds and mana-stabilizing salves had been applied to keep the flesh and channels from deteriorating further.

It looked better than it had the previous night.

Still pale and lifeless but preserved.

The physician carefully examined the point where the arm had been severed.

"My lord," he said, "there is one matter we need to discuss before attempting reattachment."

Ulrich looked at him.

"Speak."

"The physical reattachment may be possible," the physician explained. "But the mana pathways have been damaged."

Ulrich’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The physician continued.

"To reconnect the arm properly, we will need to create new channels within the damaged area. The pathways near the severed point must be opened, cleaned, and aligned before we can bind them to the pathways in your stump."

He hesitated.

"It will hurt."

"That is fine," Ulrich replied. "Do it quickly."

The physician swallowed.

"Yes, my lord."

He glanced toward the arm again.

"We will need another day to prepare the proper tools and compounds. Tomorrow would be best."

Ulrich gave a brief nod.

Then Hermione stepped forward.

"Will his mana pathways be complete again?" She asked, concerned.

The physician looked at her.

"My lady, we can restore some of them. But mana pathways are complex. They are delicate membranes, not simple veins or nerves. They must be aligned with extreme accuracy."

Hermione’s face became tense.

"So you cannot guarantee it?"

"We will do everything we can."

Airam leaned forward.

Her shoulder brushed lightly against Ulrich’s.

"Can you do it or not?"

The physician stiffened.

"Y—yes," he said quickly. "We can do it. We will do our best."

The difficulty was clear.

The physicians were dealing with the Count Rubenhart. Failure could mean more than an injured arm. If the pathways did not reconnect properly, Ulrich might lose the ability to channel mana through the limb. If something went wrong during the procedure, the damage could spread farther into his body.

They were terrified of making a mistake.

Ulrich exhaled.

There were other ways.

In the worst case, he knew of someone from the novel capable of restoring an arm completely. Not merely binding flesh and bone together, but rebuilding damaged mana pathways as though the injury had never happened.

But reaching that person was nearly impossible for him right now.

He did not know whether that person would help him either.

And even if he found that person, convincing to restore his arm would not be simple.

There was another possibility.

Sylphara.

The floating lands of the elves.

Their spirit magic could achieve things human healers considered impossible. If anyone could restore damaged mana pathways without leaving permanent weakness, it might be an elven spirit-weaver.

But Sylphara was far away.

Far beyond any convenient road.

And Ulrich had no reason to believe the elves would care enough to aid him.

Why would they?

Ulrich was still considering the problem when movement at the doorway caught his eye.

His gaze shifted.

Then widened slightly.

A girl peeked into the room.

Long, glossy green hair fell over one side of her face. Her visible green eye was bright with curiosity, while the other remained hidden beneath her bangs. She swept her gaze across the room, clearly searching for someone.

Ceres.

When Ceres saw Ulrich, her eyes brightened.

"My lord—"

The words stopped, however fast.

Ceres’s gaze dropped.

She saw the bandages.

The scars.

The bloodied medical cloths.

Then the missing left arm.

Her visible eye widened in horror.

"My lord!"

Ceres rushed into the room.

In her panic, she nearly pushed Hermione aside as she hurried toward the bed.