As Ulrich carried Airam back toward the looming silhouette of the estate, he pondered the unexpected turn his life had taken.

When he first took the sisters in, he had no intention of playing the role of a babysitter.

He had hoped Airam, being the eldest, would eventually carry herself with proper restraint. Instead, she seemed to require the most supervision, plagued by dangerous issues buried deep within her Witch Tree, so basically her soul.

Between the three sisters and Ceres, whom he was already checking on once or twice a week, Ulrich felt more like a caretaker than a ruling Count.

Still, he could not bring himself to be truly annoyed. He had orchestrated this situation entirely on his own. Regret had no place in his heart. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

He had always known the three girls would be difficult to mold. He simply hadn’t expected Ceres to join his growing roster of dangerous future women who needed constant watching.

At the very least, he found a sliver of relief in Airam’s fear. She understood the danger of those black runes.

Manipulating ordinary runes was already dangerous enough. But drawing upon that set of black runes? Even the most deranged coven witches refused to touch them.

Only the Airam from the original novel would have wielded them so carelessly, utterly indifferent to the toll they took on her own flesh.

Even now, the physical cost was obvious. Deep, purplish bruises marred the pale skin of her arm, spreading like spilled ink beneath the surface. She clamped her jaw shut, refusing to voice the pain, but Ulrich felt her faint tremors.

When he finally stepped through the doors and into the warmly lit entrance, the sight of him carrying the eldest sister instantly drew stares.

It did not take long for her younger sisters to notice.

"Airam!"

"Eldest sister!"

Hermione and Esther rushed across the marble floor, their faces pale with shock.

Hermione stepped directly into Ulrich’s path. She glared up at him, accusing. "What happened?!"

Ulrich’s brow twitched slightly at her tone, but he kept his expression stern.

"The usual," he replied with cold sarcasm. "She plays with runes and injures herself."

Airam glared at him at his answer.

It was a half-truth. It wasn’t the first time Airam had returned with shallow cuts from her magical practice. But this time, the internal damage was far more severe than he let on.

Ulrich strongly suspected the outburst was caused by the growth of her internal Witch Tree.

Perhaps a new vein of mana had sprouted, or a true Branch had finally manifested within her soul. For a witch, the blooming of a new branch was akin to a mage forming a new layer inside their mana core.

It drastically expanded their capacity to weave multiple spells at once. It was a massive leap in power.

Given her immense potential, Ulrich doubted Airam possessed a normal, fragile sapling within her. She likely harbored a terrifying, ancient-feeling Tree.

Despite his deep-seated hatred for witches, a pragmatic curiosity gripped him. He knew it was necessary for the sisters to embrace their witch blood eventually. They could not shut it off forever.

He had merely wanted to delay that awakening until they fully mastered ordinary, structured magic.

Now, it seemed he had no choice but to accelerate his plans. He would have to do something he had sworn never to do.

He needed to find a Witch to teach the girls properly.

Anyone who knew him would think he had lost his mind. A Count who despised witchcraft, actively seeking a witch master for his adopted witches. But it was the only way to prevent Airam from accidentally destroying herself and potentially, eventually, the other two as well.

But where could he possibly procure a compliant witch?

As the thought crossed his mind, a forgotten memory surfaced. A face from the damp, pitch-black cells he had newly built.

He had captured a witch two years ago. Unless the cold and the rats had taken her, she was still chained in his dungeons.

He had nearly forgotten the woman existed. What was her name again?

Before he could search his memory further, a small, trembling weight pulled at his sleeve.

Ulrich glanced down. Esther was gripping his coat, stretching up on her toes to get a better look at Airam’s pale face.

"Eldest sister..." Esther whispered, her large blue eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Are you okay?"

She looked as though she might break down sobbing at any moment. She had rarely seen her invincible older sister look so drained and fragile.

Airam’s posture finally relaxed. A faint, fragile smile broke through her exhaustion as she reached out.

Her pale, bruised fingers gently brushed against Esther’s soft blonde hair.

"I am fine—" She began to comfort her sister; however, Ulrich moved away, and her hand brushed the wind.

"Monika," Ulrich called out.

Almost instantly, the maid hurried, her skirts rustling sharply against the marble.

"My Lord!" Monika gasped, taking in the sight of the bleeding Count and the battered girl in his arms.

With a curt tilt of his head, Ulrich prompted the maid to follow and began his ascent up the grand staircase.

"W—Wait!" Hermione cried out, stepping into his path to block the stairs.

But she was far too small. Ulrich’s towering figure simply brushed past her without breaking stride.

"Ouch!" Hermione shrieked out as she tumbled on her butt.

"Big sister!" Esther quickly caught Hermione.

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, Hermione glared at Ulrich’s back and grabbed Esther’s hand, and the two younger girls scrambled behind him.

Ulrich headed straight for the grand chambers he had assigned them. He had generously provided three separate, lavish bedrooms for the girls.

Yet, driven by the lingering ghosts of their past, they still rearranged their quarters every night to sleep huddled together in a single bed.

Pushing the door open, Ulrich swiftly crossed the room and laid Airam carefully atop the plush covers.

"I want her treated immediately," Ulrich ordered Monika.

"Make a thorough check. Not a single lingering ailment should be hindering her."

He turned his piercing gaze to Monika. "Next week, she must be in perfect condition for the Princess’s ceremony in the capital. Is that understood?"

"Y—yes, My Lord!" Monika nodded, already moving to gather fresh water and medicinal salves. There were already healthy and best vials for her in case as well.

Ulrich glanced back at the bed one last time. Airam was staring silently up at him.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit, only to nearly collide with Hermione and Esther in the doorway.

"Wait a minute—!" Hermione started, her small fists clenched at her sides.

She froze the moment Ulrich stopped and stared down at her, his immense shadow swallowing her small frame.

"You do not bother the servants while they work," he warned.

"I—I won’t..." She replied meekly, the fierce fire in her eyes dimming under his authoritative tone.

Satisfied, Ulrich stepped past them and pulled the door shut. Even through the thick wood, he could hear the two sisters immediately rushing to Airam’s bedside.

Standing alone in the quiet hallway, Ulrich finally let out a small breath.

He raised his hands. His palms were a mangled mess of torn flesh and dried blood, the skin still aching from the foul residue of dark magic.

"Those are some unsightly scars, my Lord."

Ulrich turned his head toward the shadows at the end of the corridor.

Meera stood there, a smile playing on her lips, with the towering, silent presence of Edmar standing loyally at her back.