My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

"These people came for us."

"T—They came for us?" Esther whispered. All the color drained completely from her face.

"Yeah..." Hermione nodded.

There was no room for doubt anymore. The masked woman on the roof had mentioned Anna-Maria’s daughters, confirming that their target had never been the Count.

But now, the situation on the rooftop had escalated past the point of return. Every single cloaked figure had drawn their weapons, their hostile intent focused on Ulrich, although he hadn’t been their original target, it seems.

"I—I think they are going to fight," Hermione said, her hands shaking slightly over her waning spell circle.

"W—Why?! We need to warn the knights!" Esther cried out in panic. Leaving her sisters’ side, she rushed toward the armory entrance where the guards were stationed. "Sir Hendrick! Lord Ulrich is in terrible danger!" She screamed, tugging at the tall knight’s crimson cape.

"My Lady?" Hendrick blinked down at her, giving her a confused stare, unaware of the invisible crisis happening several streets over.

"Esther, stop," Airam intervened immediately. She darted forward, grabbing her younger sister’s wrist and pulling her back inside the shop before the knights could start asking questions.

"Elder Sister, please, we have to help Lord Ulrich!" Esther pleaded, struggling weakly against Airam’s iron grip.

"We cannot help him," Airam replied, her dark eyes dead serious.

"W—Why?" Esther asked, hot tears already welling up and spilling over her eyelashes.

"Because if we run out there, we will only be a burden to him," Airam said. "We would just become hostages."

And since they were the original targets, it would be stupid for them to show themselves there.

"She is right," Hermione nodded. She swayed slightly on her feet as she stood up from her chair, the glowing circle in front of her suddenly shattering into fragments of fading light.

"What happened?" Airam asked, noticing the abrupt end of the magic.

"I—I don’t know..." Hermione mumbled, rubbing her temple where a sudden ache throbbed.

She had been maintaining the connection perfectly well with Airam’s help, but then, without any warning, the spell had been dispelled. She recalled the very last fraction of a second before the vision cut to black, she could have sworn Ulrich had tilted his head, his red eyes locking directly onto her hidden mana bird. It was as if he had crushed the spell himself just by looking at it, though it happened far too fast for her to be certain.

"W—What do we do then?" Esther whimpered, looking back and forth between her two older sisters.

But neither Hermione nor Airam could offer a comforting answer. Both of them remained trapped in silence.

What could they even do?

◊◊◊

Ulrich stood in the center of the rooftop, his newly forged sword drawn, his expression focused.

He found himself surrounded by ten cloaked people, and it was obvious from their stances that these were no common brigands. Under normal circumstances, Ulrich would have avoided being cornered like this. With a broken mana core, stepping into a disadvantaged fight was a death sentence. But that was no longer the case.

He now possessed a core, one that was more powerful, but also dangerously heavy. He was still struggling to fully grasp and control the fragment of mana that had originally belonged to a man who transcended humanity, reaching Godhood. Yet, his lack of complete mastery certainly did not mean he was weak.

"You killed him," the lead woman said, her voice dropping colder as she stared at the dead spy on the stones.

"I do not recall authorizing the filth of Libra to wander within my territory," Ulrich retorted. "Your entire cult is branded as criminals across all of Skargardia. What did you expect to happen, heathen?" He raised his sword, pointing the blood-dripping tip directly at her.

The woman chuckled. "We had no intention of laying a hand on you, Count Rubenhart," she said. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"Laying hands on them is the same as laying hands on me," Ulrich replied, his voice devoid of all warmth.

"They are dangerous, Count Rubenhart. I sincerely doubt you adopted those three without being fully aware of who Anna-Maria truly was, or what atrocities she committed," the woman warned.

"It does not matter," Ulrich answered.

A tense silence stretched across the rooftop, broken only by the whistling wind. Finally, the woman let out a long, disappointed sigh.

"I see."

In an instant, the tense peace shattered. The cloaked men scattered outward in a blur of motion, flanking Ulrich from every possible angle. Before he could even blink, a deadly barrage of throwing knives shot through the air, converging on him from all sides.

Ulrich simply tilted his free left hand. Moving with precision, he unleashed the defensive spell he had already been quietly preparing. A complex, glowing crimson rune circle expanded instantly, forming a perfect dome with him at the epicenter. The steel knives collided against the magical barrier, clattering uselessly against the rooftop stones.

"You handle yourself remarkably well for a man with a crippled core, Count Rubenhart," the woman smirked from the shadows.

Ulrich merely narrowed his eyes. Instead of waiting for their next volley, he seized the initiative. He took a sudden half-step backward before pivoting sharply on his heel, completely catching the assassin creeping up behind him off guard.

The cloaked man panicked and attempted to leap backward out of striking range. But Ulrich was faster. With a sharp flick of his empty hand, a second, smaller crimson barrier materialized directly behind the retreating assassin.

"W—What!"

The man gasped as his back slammed against the solid wall of mana, halting his escape. He barely had time to whip his head back around before Ulrich’s silver blade drove cleanly through his chest.

Ulrich didn’t waste a single fraction of a second reveling in the kill. He yanked his sword free, twisting his body sideways just in time to narrowly dodge a poisoned dagger aimed squarely at the back of his skull.

Reacting with terrifying speed, Ulrich reached out and snatched the arm of the woman who had thrown it. Using her own momentum against her, he pulled her forward and hurled her bodily into the assassin rushing up behind her.

"Haghh!" The man grunted as they tangled together.

Without breaking his rhythm, Ulrich leveled his bloodied sword at the tangled pair. Instantly, a larger rune circle flared to life at the tip of his blade.

It was a Tier 3 Intermediate Spell, constructed of over thirty complex runes.

He had woven it with such speed that it caught every assassin on the roof completely off guard. In magical combat, stronger spells required more rune combinations, which naturally took time to cast. While it was not impossible to cast high-tier magic in close-quarters combat, opponents could almost always see it coming. Yet, no one had seen Ulrich preparing this, let alone doing so while simultaneously engaged in mortal hand-to-hand combat against multiple people.

The two tangled assassins didn’t even have time to scramble to their feet. Ulrich calmly pressed his thumb against the crossguard of his blade, releasing the built-up mana.

A roaring, cross-shaped blast of concentrated fire erupted from the rune circle. The blazing fire slammed directly into them.

"Garghhh!!" The man screamed in pain, twisting his body to shield the woman, taking the brunt of the scorching blast against his own back before the force of the explosion sent them both crashing into the stone roof.

Ulrich softly landed on the ground and took back his stance immediately while they all watched him warily.

Three of them had been dealt within a couple of seconds.