Chapter 254: A Three-Year Preparation

The day passed quietly.

Ulrich stayed in his office from morning until late afternoon, working through the flow of documents that came with ruling Rubenhart County.

There were reports from the vineyards, letters from tenant lords, requests from merchants, security updates from the estate guards, and financial ledgers that required his approval. By the time the afternoon light began to fade beyond the tall windows, several stacks of papers had been reduced to neat, organized piles.

Outside his office, the Estate had settled into a new rhythm.

The sisters had resumed their lessons.

Airam, Hermione, and Esther attended their usual tutoring sessions, though each approached them differently as usually. Airam listened more than she spoke, absorbing information in silence. Hermione questioned everything that interested her and argued whenever she believed a lesson was too simple. Esther remained enthusiastic about nearly every subject, though she was easily distracted whenever something more interesting caught her attention.

Ceres had begun lessons of her own.

For now, she studied separately with Linnea and the other tutors. She needed to catch up on literacy, history, etiquette, basic magical theory, and the countless things the sisters had already learned during their time at the Rubenhart Estate.

She was doing well from what Linnea briefly told him.

Better than Ulrich expected.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the documents spread across his desk.

Perhaps this was what he had imagined when Silas’s memories first came to him.

No.

Not even then had Ulrich imagined things would go this well.

At the time, his plan had been practical.

He had known what would become of Airam, Hermione, and Esther if no one intervened. He had known they would be discarded, abused, and driven into becoming the witches described in the novel. They would survive their suffering, grow strong through hatred and loss, and eventually stand against the world that had given them nothing but cruelty.

Ulrich had wanted to prevent that future.

At first, it had been a matter of survival.

The three sisters had been powerful in the novel. If he saved them before their lives were destroyed, sheltered them, and earned their trust, they could become allies rather than enemies.

That was the logic behind it.

But now, Airam, Hermione, Esther, and even Ceres were living beneath his roof.

They studied.

They argued.

They worried about one another.

They had begun to see the Rubenhart Estate as home.

And better, they trusted him.

Ulrich’s fingers tapped once against the surface of his desk.

He had not expected their loyalty to form so quickly.

He had expected resistance, suspicion, perhaps fear. He had expected that gaining their trust would take years of patience, careful decisions, and constant proof that he would not abandon them when they became inconvenient.

Instead, the girls had attached themselves to him far more quickly than he anticipated.

Literally, Airam, the worst one especially, had begun sneaking into his room to sleep beside him because she felt ’comfortable’ beside him. The sister he was pretty sure he would never earn any kind of trust from ended up being the one clinging to him the most among the three of them.

Talking about the irony.

Ulrich exhaled quietly.

Yes.

Things had gone far better than expected.

If they trusted him, they would believe his warnings over anyone else’s. They would listen when he told them someone was dangerous. They would stand beside him when the situation became more complicated.

That would save him a great deal of trouble in the future.

But trust alone would not be enough.

In three years, the Academy would become the center of everything.

The protagonists would enter its halls. The demons would make their moves. The conflicts described in the novel would begin to surface one after another. Powerful students, noble factions, hidden organizations, magical incidents, and political schemes would converge in one place.

If the girls remained weak, none of this would matter.

Ulrich had intervened in the path that originally made them powerful.

The sisters in the novel had gained strength through pain.

They had been driven forward by hatred.

They had endured the kind of suffering that left no room for softness, trust, or mercy.

Ulrich had taken that path from them.

He had given them safety.

He had given them a chance to become something other than weapons shaped by cruelty.

That meant he bore responsibility for what came next.

He could not simply assume their talents would be enough.

Ulrich pulled a blank sheet of paper toward him.

A three-year schedule.

That was what they needed.

Not one general plan for all four girls.

Individual plans.

Airam’s witchcraft was unstable, destructive, and deeply tied to her emotions. She needed greater control before her power harmed her or someone she wanted to protect. Her rune work was already formidable, but it lacked restraint whenever she became angry, afraid, or overwhelmed. It could destroy both her and everyone else around her.

Hermione possessed an exceptional mind and a strong affinity for ordinary magic. Her greatest weakness was not a lack of talent. It was impatience. She wanted results immediately. She wanted to understand everything at once, and when something did not work, she became frustrated enough to force her mana beyond its limits.

Esther was younger and less experienced, but she possessed a rare instinct for magic. Her lessons needed to build her confidence without allowing her to become dependent on others for protection.

And Ceres...she was the easiest to understand.

Not because her situation was simple.

Nothing involving the Thornbreath Curse was simple.

But Ceres had appeared far more often in the novel than the three sisters. Ulrich knew more about her potential, her history, and the kind of power she could one day possess. He knew that her spirit arts, if properly developed, could become extraordinary.

The sisters had been antagonists.

The novel had revealed little about their growth beyond their suffering. It described the hell they endured before escaping it, but not the full process that turned them into the feared witches they became.

Even Sedhoran had failed to find his own daughters after they were taken from what Ulrich guessed.

From the moment they disappeared, their lives had become a mystery to the world.

Ulrich looked down at the blank paper.

It did not matter.

The sisters before him were not the same as the girls described in the novel.

They had not been shaped by hatred.

They had not been abandoned.

They had not been left alone in the dark with no one coming for them.

Airam, Hermione, and Esther had a home.

They had one another.

And they had him.

Ulrich’s gaze darkened slightly.

By now, he was certain they would not become the witches of the original story.

Airam alone was proof enough.

She had spent the past week slipping through barriers, locks, and wards simply so she could sleep beside him. No matter how many times he told her to stop, she only looked at him with that quiet, unreadable expression and did it again when he was asleep.

That was not the behavior of a girl preparing to betray him.

Unless something catastrophic happened, none of them would leave his side.

Ulrich set the quill down.

Their training needed to include more than witchcraft.

They would need ordinary magic as well.

Mana control.

Defensive spells.

Combat applications.

Barrier construction.

Theory.

Strategy.

Political education.

As for Ceres, Ulrich wanted her to develop her spirit arts alongside witchcraft and standard magic.

That was the difficult part.

Spirit arts were known as Elven Magic for a reason.

The knowledge had originated among elves, and few humans possessed a true understanding of its principles. Ceres’s affinity was rare. Her potential was dangerous. If handled poorly, the Thornbreath Curse could twist that potential into something catastrophic.

Ulrich did not know where he could find an elf willing to teach her.

Sylphara would not even allow him near the elven lands.

And even if he somehow reached them, convincing an elf to train a human girl touched by the Thornbreath Curse would be nearly impossible.

Ulrich leaned back in his chair.

"I should not rush this," he muttered.

Ceres already had enough to manage.

She needed to catch up with the sisters academically. She needed to learn basic magic. She needed to understand witchcraft. She needed to gain control over the Thornbreath before it reacted to fear, anger, or danger without warning.

Adding spirit arts to that burden now would be foolish.

Ulrich had an idea, a possible solution yes, but it could wait.

By the time the Academy began, Ceres should be strong enough to handle more advanced training. Until then, Ulrich would focus on building the foundation she needed.

He looked once more at the blank page before him.

Then he dipped his quill into the ink.

Three years.

Three years to make certain none of them needed to suffer in order to become strong.

Ulrich worked for another half hour.

The first draft of the three-year training plan had begun to take shape beneath his hand. It was not complete, not even close, but the foundation was there.

Ulrich had just begun writing a second list of potential magical materials when a knock sounded against the office door.

"Enter."

The door opened.

Fabian stepped inside.

Ulrich had dismissed him earlier at his own request, so Fabian’s return meant that something required the Count’s direct attention.

"My lord," Fabian said. "We have a visitor."

Ulrich raised his gaze from the documents.

Fabian lowered his head slightly.

"Lady Meera."

Ulrich’s hand stopped over the paper.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he slowly set the quill down.

At last, she had finally come.

Ulrich had been expecting a response to his demands for some time now.

But....she really had an annoying habit of appearing when it was least convenient.

Late afternoon.

The worst possible time.

The day’s paperwork was not yet fully complete. The sisters would soon finish their lessons. Dinner would follow.

Ulrich rubbed his thumb once against the edge of the desk.

Hopefully she came with real reasons and not on her whim here.

He stood from his chair.

"Where is she?"

"The guest reception room, my lord," Fabian answered. "She arrived with two attendants. They are waiting outside."

Ulrich nodded.