Free Web NovelChapter 102: Night Camping Before The Capital
Following the midday meal, Ulrich extended the scheduled rest period. His own stamina remained uncompromised, and the seasoned knights of his escort were trained to march for days on minimal sleep. However, the physical tolerance of his adopted witches remained the deciding factor. Pushing the convoy to its limit would only guarantee that the three sisters arrived at the capital exhausted, nauseated, and physically compromised.
Once the food had settled and color returned to their cheeks, he finally ordered the convoy to resume the march.
The carriage lurched back into motion. Esther, wielding her quiet, pleading expression with surprising effectiveness, managed to convince Ulrich to crack the window slightly to let the fresh pine air circulate. The concession deeply irritated Hermione. She had demanded the same an hour ago and received a flat refusal. The apparent double standard in Ulrich’s handling of the three sisters was not lost on her.
As the hours ground on, the afternoon sun began its slow descent toward the western horizon. The encroaching dusk signaled their rapid approach to the Skargardian capital.
The initial excitement that had animated the sisters, at the very least, Hermione and Esther, at the start of the journey, evaporated, replaced by a creeping anxiety. The closer the carriage rolled toward the epicenter of the kingdom’s political power, the quieter they became. Even Hermione’s usual relentless commentary dried up entirely. Esther stared out the cracked window, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of her skirt. Only Airam maintained her baseline stoicism, completely unaffected by the looming threat of the high nobility, though she cast frequent, assessing glances at her two nervous siblings.
When the sky finally bruised into deep violet and the tree shadows lengthened across the dirt road, Ulrich knocked on the wooden partition. He ordered a complete halt for the night.
They had enough daylight to push the horses hard and breach the outer gates of the capital before dawn. However, arriving in the dead of night would force the sisters into unfamiliar accommodations while exhausted and starving, completely disrupting their carefully maintained physical rhythm. Ulrich prioritized their recovery over speed. He ordered to set up a full overnight camp, ensuring they would eat a proper dinner and sleep the required hours before making the final approach in the morning light.
Hendrick expressed visible concern over the vulnerability of sleeping exposed in the borderlands. Ulrich shut down the objection with a single stare, and the lead knight efficiently executed the order to establish the night perimeter.
The sisters practically threw themselves out of the carriage doors, grateful to escape the swaying wooden box after another brutal five-hour stretch.
The knights worked fast. Within twenty minutes, a massive campfire roared in the center of a shallow clearing. The heat pushed back the biting chill of the evening air. The sisters clustered on a thick woolen blanket spread across the dry grass, bathing in the flickering orange light. The natural ambiance of the dark woods, the chirping of night birds, and the rustling of leaves transformed the rest stop into something fascinating rather than purely miserable.
They had spent numerous nights sleeping under the stars during their precarious childhood, huddled around small fires with their mother. But this experience felt different. The gnawing, constant fear was gone. They didn’t have to keep one eye on the tree line, terrified of discovery.
Back then, Anna-Maria’s presence had provided their only shred of comfort. But after their mother lost her powers, the fear of getting found out had never left them, especially their mother.
Tonight, the perimeter was locked down by a ring of armored knights, and beyond the steel, there was Ulrich.
The only absence they mourned was Anna-Maria.
Esther pulled a woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders, offering a soft smile to the flames. "It reminds me of the night camps we would set up with mama."
Hermione’s expression softened immediately. "It does. Since we are always confined within the walls of the Rubenhart estate, we rarely have the occasion for experiences like this."
Airam poked the fire with a long stick, sending a shower of bright sparks into the dark air. "Did you not say this afternoon that you prefer the comfort and safety of the estate dining hall over the dirt?"
Hermione huffed, pulling her knees to her chest. "Well, this is not terrible! And I was justified in worrying about our safety out in the open wilderness."
"I am not worried about our safety at all," Esther replied confidently. She looked away from the flames, her gaze tracking past the ring of knights toward the edge of the darkness. "Lord Ulrich is protecting us, after all!"
Hermione winced immediately. She followed Esther’s line of sight, locking onto the dark silhouette standing at the outer boundary of the camp.
All three sisters watched in silence. Ulrich stood perfectly still, his back to the fire. His hands moved silently, fingers glowing with a dense crimson light. He traced geometric shapes into the empty air. With every slash of his hand, a blood-red rune burned itself into existence, hanging suspended in the darkness before sinking into the earth to secure the perimeter.
"What is he doing?" Esther whispered, fascinated by the beautiful red light.
"Barrier spells," Hermione replied, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the glowing architecture.
Esther was familiar with the structure of barrier magic, obviously after being taught for two years by Brian, but what Ulrich was constructing defied standard academy teachings. The glowing runes were unique. Hermione possessed the keen analytical vision required to dissect the spellcraft, and she immediately recognized the complexity of his design. She tracked the way he spliced defensive runes with kinetic triggers, weaving a net that didn’t just block intruders, but also promised strong retaliation.
Every time she observed Ulrich deploy his spells, Hermione was forced to confront the terrifying depth of his intellect. He did not memorize spells; he engineered them. He viewed the magical spectrum through a different, hyper-analytical perspective that allowed him to bend the spells to his exact specifications.
It was truly frightening to witness.
Ulrich drives his glowing palm flat against the dirt, forcing the final crimson ward into the earth as a translucent dome shudders briefly into existence before turning completely invisible against the night sky.
Ulrich turned away then, his crimson barrier snapping into total invisibility. The moment he faced the campfire, Esther, Hermione, and Airam synchronized a quick avoidance of his gaze.
Minutes later, the knights distributed the evening meal. The dinner was purposefully lighter than the midday meal to prevent sluggishness before sleep, featuring a warm spiced vegetable broth and toasted bread.
By the time they scraped their tin bowls clean, Hendrick had overseen the construction of their sleeping quarters. Ulrich pointed toward a massive canvas structure erected near the tree line, ringed by four armored sentries.
Hermione stared at the canvas walls, ready to protest the indignity of sleeping in a military tent. But as she approached the flap, the argument died in her throat. The term ’tent’ was an understatement. The structure resembled a mobile pavilion. The interior footprint was massive, easily capable of housing all three sisters without forcing them to crowd together. Thick, woven rugs insulated the dirt floor. Three thick mattresses stuffed with goose down were arranged around the edges, layered with wool blankets and silk cushions that belonged in a manor house, not a forest clearing.
"It’s so big inside!" Esther exclaimed, her fatigue instantly replaced by excitement. She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled straight through the open flap.
Hermione hesitated at the entrance. She gripped the canvas, looking back over her shoulder. Ulrich sat on a wooden supply crate directly in front of the sizzling campfire, his back to the pavilion tent as he stared into the flames.
’Did he plan all this for a single night?’
The high-quality food, the insulated bedding, the massive canvas structure, none of this was standard issue. Ulrich was pouring significant resources into their comfort. More importantly, he had ordered halts at the exact moments their nausea peaked, and he forced this overnight camp strictly to protect their stamina before the capital. He was not merely throwing gold at his subordinates and expecting them to handle the logistics. He was actually observing them a lot more than he seemed to show, and clearly showing also more concern about them.
She didn’t notice when they were safely tucked inside his estates, but once it came to the outside, it was very much visible how he was thinking about them.
Hermione was staring at the back of his head, lost in thought, when Ulrich suddenly glanced over his shoulder, his red eyes locking directly onto her.
"Hah!" Hermione shrieked, stumbling backward in panic.
Her heel caught the edge of the woven rug. She slammed back-first into the support pole of the pavilion. The iron stake ripped straight out of the dirt. The canvas collapsed instantly, burying both Hermione and Esther beneath a mountain of fabric and collapsing wooden beams.
"B—Big sister! I can’t move!" Esther’s muffled, panicked voice echoed from beneath the flattened tent.
"G—Get us out of here!" Hermione shrieked, thrashing wildly.
The guards paused their patrols. They stared at the massive lump of canvas wriggling on the dirt, exchanging amused glances despite their strict discipline.
Airam stood perfectly still beside the collapsed wreckage. She offered no outward reaction, merely grateful she had not entered the structure first. After a long moment of observing the funny thrashing of her younger sisters, Airam stepped forward, gripped a handful of the canvas, and hauled it backward.
Hermione emerged red-faced, her silver hair a tangled mess of static electricity. Esther sat beside her on the ruined rugs, looking teary-eyed and disoriented. None of the knights dared to utter a single word of commentary as they immediately rushed forward to rebuild the pavilion.
Thirty minutes later, two female squires assisted the sisters out of their traveling dresses and into woolen sleepwear. Hermione sprinted inside the reconstructed tent the second she was decent, desperate to bury her humiliation in the goose down mattress. Esther and Airam followed quietly, lacing the flap shut behind them.
The camp plunged into a guarded silence following that.
Ulrich remained seated on the wooden crate, staring into the dying embers. He had no intention of sleeping. Zagon’s sudden intrusion compromised the security of this route. If Zagon knew exactly where Ulrich was located on the open road, other hostiles might be tracking the convoy as well. Ulrich chose thus to spend the night fully conscious, his hand resting inches from his sword hilt, analyzing every rustle in the dark tree line.
Two hours deep into the night watch, the tent rustled open. Airam stepped out into the cold air. She wore a woolen nightgown, her bare feet stepping quietly over the freezing dirt. She walked straight to the fire pit and sat on the log across from him.
Ulrich raised his gaze from the embers. "Sleep."
"I can’t sleep," Airam replied, staring blankly at the orange coals.
Ulrich did not argue. He knew a bit of the root cause of her insomnia. The chaotic nature of her Tree frequently manifested as traumatic nightmares. To avoid the terror of reliving the village pyres in her sleep or others, she simply forced her body to remain awake until she was physically drained out.
They sat in complete silence for a full hour. Neither initiated conversation. The only sound was the crackle of the dying wood and the distant hoot of an owl. Slowly, Airam’s posture began to slip. Her eyelids fluttered, blinking rapidly as an unnatural drowsiness dragged her consciousness downward.
She rubbed her eyes, trying to fight off the sudden exhaustion, but to no avail. She looked across the fire, her eyes widening slightly as she locked onto Ulrich and realized what he had done.
A sleeping spell.
He had done it silently, and over the last thirty minutes, so she wouldn’t even notice it.
Her eyelids fluttered shut. Her body swayed to the left, slipping off the edge of the log.
Ulrich crossed the distance in a single quick step, catching her before her head hit the packed dirt. He understood her fear of the nightmares, but sleep deprivation could easily ruin her mood and compromise her ability to act at the event. She needed a minimum baseline of rest.
He lifted her into his arms, carrying her light frame toward the tent. He unlaced the flap with one hand and stepped inside.
The interior was pitch black, but Ulrich’s vision cut through the dark. Esther and Hermione were sound asleep on the far mattresses. Esther was curled tightly against her older sister, her arms wrapped lightly around Hermione’s waist.
Ulrich knelt on the woven rugs, moving with careful silence. He knew exactly what kind of hysterical reaction would erupt if Hermione woke up and found his face hovering inside their sleeping quarters. He laid Airam gently onto the remaining empty mattress, pulled the wool blankets up to her chin, and backed out of the tent, lacing the canvas shut.
When he stood up and turned around, Hendrick and three other perimeter guards were watching him. Hendrick wore a knowing, amused smile. freewёbnoνel.com
Ulrich ignored their gazes while mentally berating himself for not bringing Monika to babysit the sisters as usual.
