Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

He found traces of a struggle on the ground, along with bloodstains.

The Earl of Warwick, a man of education and refinement, no longer wore the ferocious expression from before—but the hand gripping his cane trembled uncontrollably. He followed the trail of the fight, where the remnants of two distinct flames lingered.

As the teacher of Eblana and Loughshinny, he was all too familiar with the nature of their flames.

They weren't Originium Arts. No, to call such fire a mere Arts would be sacrilege. This flame was a gift of their bloodline—"God-given" was the only fitting term.

He spotted Loughshinny's torn, blood-stained clothing nearby, along with a few strands of her long, pale golden hair—now seeming almost white at the edges.

The corners of Warwick's mouth twitched, his knuckles whitening as he clenched the cane. He said nothing, lips pressed into a tight line.

No one knew he had two students—or more accurately, he had never publicized that two Draco were studying under him in Victoria. Doing so would have been suicidal. His ambitions were far from realized; exposing the sisters prematurely would have been folly.

No… It was possible that someone did know.

Lately, he had hosted several Tara nobles at his mansion—lavish dinners, flowing wine, and supposed "meetings" that were little more than a cover for discreet deals. Although Eblana and Loughshinny were under strict instruction not to wander the estate, who could say whether some nosy noble caught a glimpse of them and guessed the truth?

The masked assailants tonight had moved swiftly, with coordination and power that marked them as professionals. Warwick had already begun to suspect their origin—they were almost certainly black-market mercenaries or assassins who specialized in discreet operations.

As for who had sent them—most likely Victorian nobles.

Why not Tara nobles? Because they lacked both the resources and the nerve to orchestrate a kidnapping using professional killers.

The most plausible scenario was that a Tara noble, upon discovering the sisters' true identities, had sold that information to a Victorian noble in exchange for wealth or favor. To sabotage Warwick's plans, the Victorians had made their move.

He had considered the possibility of a third party, but in Victoria, there were only two major players in this game: the nobles of Tara and the nobles of Victoria.

A sense of unease welled in his chest. He felt a flicker of relief that Eblana had not been taken—that she was still alive. Compared to the quiet and reserved Loughshinny, Eblana was far more proactive. That didn't mean he held Loughshinny in contempt—on the contrary, she was an ideal candidate to serve as a political puppet once she matured.

Summoning a servant, Warwick's tone was calm and even:

"Clean up this area. And tell the butler—I want a detailed account of what the Tara nobles have been doing lately."

The servant rushed off in a hurry. Though the Earl of Warwick wore his usual gentle smile, those who had served him long enough recognized the fury burning beneath it.

Warwick turned his gaze toward the night sky beyond the shattered window and let out a heavy sigh.

Since Loughshinny had been kidnapped... it might be better if she never came back.

Draco's bloodline must be controlled—held firmly in one's own grasp. If not, what would happen should Loughshinny suddenly reappear while he was using Eblana's identity to further his plans?

To him, a dead Loughshinny held more value than a living one.

"Master, the young lady has gone to bed," the servant reported.

"You've worked hard," Earl Warwick replied softly, his footsteps silent against the plush carpet. "In addition to the Tara nobles, keep an eye on Eblana as well."

The butler was momentarily stunned but nodded in acknowledgment.

Warwick returned to the banquet hall, the same warm smile once again adorning his face. He resumed the seat he had just left and began to raise his glass in lively toasts.

---

That night.

Mandragora was not home again. As always, she spent her evenings outside, honing her Originium Arts. She had grown steady and dependable, and Degenbrecher no longer worried—Mandragora was now a young woman who could take care of herself.

"What's going on?"

Felix, who had been tinkering with equipment at the workbench, looked up. The previously quiet night was now bustling with guards patrolling the street. Judging by their uniforms, they belonged to the Earl's mansion.

Peering out the window, he saw the guards splitting off into smaller teams, each heading in a different direction.

"These are the Earl's guards. What could've happened?"

Felix narrowed his eyes. Something about this felt off. At this time of night, why would Warwick's personal guards be deployed like this?

If it were a criminal case, the Royal Mounted Police would be on the scene. If it were a dispute among Tara nobles, Warwick's guards wouldn't be involved—after all, Tara nobles were not permitted to leave their estates without proper cause.

That could only mean something had happened inside the Earl's mansion—something Earl Warwick didn't want the public to know. He had mobilized only his most trusted men, those who wouldn't speak of what they saw.

"…Mandragora should be all right, shouldn't she?"

"Don't worry, Felix. Mandragora can handle herself now… Look, even if trouble's come this far, we're not defenseless. With Originium Arts, we can hold our own."

"She's progressing that fast?"

"Carnelian is teaching her now. And don't forget—Mandragora's studying at the Caster Academy."

As the two chatted idly, a knock suddenly echoed from the door.

Felix and Degenbrecher exchanged glances. It couldn't be Mandragora—she always announced herself sweetly from outside with an "I'm back~" to avoid surprises.

The knocking grew more urgent.

Felix stood up and peered through the peephole. Standing just outside was a familiar figure—long, pale golden hair cascading down her back.

It was Loughshinny. But why was she here, and at this hour?

Felix recalled the Earl's guards outside just moments ago. A realization hit him.

He flung the door open.

"…Teacher."

Loughshinny blinked slowly. The moment she saw Felix, she let out a soft breath of relief. Her body, which had been tense and barely holding on, gave way all at once. She collapsed forward.

"Oh—damn, that hurts."

Loughshinny's horns were long, beautiful, and sharp. When she fell onto Felix's shoulder, the heavy impact caused him to wince in pain—and it cost him more than a dozen drops of blood.

"She's injured," Degenbrecher said, rising to her feet. She quickly scanned the wounds on Loughshinny's body. "She's got sword cuts—the worst one's on her shoulder. Luckily, it didn't go all the way through."

"I'll go get medicine from the shop nearby. Take care of her for now."

"Understood."

Though Degenbrecher wasn't a doctor, as a Knight of the Triple Crowns, she knew enough to handle emergency first aid.

Once Loughshinny had been moved into the bedroom, Degenbrecher quickly realized it wouldn't be easy to lay her down properly. Given her condition, it seemed impossible for her to sleep flat on her back—her long tail made that position uncomfortable, and her sharp horns could pierce through any pillow with ease.

Not that Degenbrecher was particularly concerned about the pillow.

After carefully helping Loughshinny lie on her side, Degenbrecher began stopping the bleeding.

Felix always kept a first-aid kit on hand in case of emergencies, but this time the injuries needed more than just gauze and antiseptic. They'd need stronger medication—anti-inflammatory agents, painkillers—otherwise the wounds might become infected due to the delay in treatment.

When Felix returned with supplies from the nearby pharmacy, he and Degenbrecher did what they could. Neither of them was a physician, so their best hope was to use over-the-counter medicine to relieve the pain and fight off infection.

Eventually, the bleeding stopped. Loughshinny's tense expression softened in her sleep.

The pillow, however, now had two neat holes poked straight through it.

"Now we just have to wait for her to wake up," Degenbrecher said.

"What do you make of tonight's events, Boss?"

She looked to Felix out of habit.

Felix frowned. "I'm not omniscient. I honestly don't know what happened tonight."

"The only thing I do know," he continued, "is that Eblana and Loughshinny are Earl Warwick's most prized students. Eblana may not care about the title, but Warwick clearly does."

He leaned back, voice low in thought. "One possibility is that someone broke into the Earl's mansion and attacked his two most important students—targeting them instead of the Tara nobles. But that still doesn't explain why Loughshinny ended up here."

"If the mastermind is a noble, then it could be either the Tara or Victorian factions. There are still plenty of Tara nobles who covet Warwick's title. And as for the Victorians, it wouldn't be surprising if they tried to pressure him using force."

Degenbrecher listened silently, then murmured, "After Loughshinny recovers… do you plan to send her back?"

Felix narrowed his eyes, a cold glint flashing through them. He shook his head. "No need."

"Perhaps Loughshinny is safest here."

"Why?"

"Because returning to Earl Warwick's side would only provoke those behind the attack. One strike will be followed by another. Even if the Earl has the finest guards at his disposal, it's always easier to dodge a spear in the open than an arrow in the dark. If she's unlucky next time, it might not be her shoulder—it could be her heart."

Degenbrecher leaned on the table, resting her chin on her hand. "I think you're right, Boss."

"As for where she'll go in the future," Felix continued, "that's for Loughshinny to decide. She's about the same age as me and I'm not planning to be her guardian."

With a faint grumble, he left the bedroom alongside Degenbrecher. Before stepping out, he made sure to pull the curtains shut and turn off the lights so Loughshinny could rest.

When Mandragora returned home and heard that Loughshinny had been injured and was now resting in bed, she immediately grew concerned. But once she was assured that the bleeding had stopped and Loughshinny only needed rest, she obediently returned to her room.

"…Mandragora is coming home later and later these days. It's nearly one in the morning," Felix muttered. "Maybe I should make a house rule—everyone home before midnight."

"Haha. I already told you," Degenbrecher chuckled as she sipped the leftover wine on the table. She glanced at Felix and added, "Mandragora's a grown woman now. Haven't you noticed? Her aura's even stronger than when she first came to Oak Grove County."

"You mean her Originium Art?"

"Exactly. What else could it be—martial arts?"

Felix nodded. From the fact that Mandragora had been frequenting the cemetery late into the night, it was clear she'd either had some kind of epiphany or encountered something that pushed her progress forward.

The next morning, after washing up, Felix stepped into the living room and found Mandragora in the kitchen, wearing an apron and busy preparing breakfast. When she spotted him, she smiled and tilted her head slightly. "Ah, Brother Felix, you're up. Sister Loughshinny's awake too, but Sister Degenbrecher said she lost too much blood. It's better for her to keep resting."

"Where's Degenbrecher?"

"Said she went out to investigate what's going on. Something about checking the Earl's Mansion's movements."

Felix reached out and gently ruffled Mandragora's hair. Just as Degenbrecher had said—Mandragora was no longer a child. Not only Mandragora, but also Senomi. At some point, both girls had shed their younger selves and were quietly growing up under his care.

"…I should get you some new clothes. You've gotten taller."

"I'll ask Sister Degenbrecher to help me pick," Mandragora replied, her cheeks flushing slightly. Truthfully, she even needed a new size of underwear now. She wasn't sure if it was because she was maturing naturally—or if Brother Felix had simply been feeding her too well.

With a smile, Felix gave her one last head pat. Mandragora rubbed against his chest playfully for a moment before scampering off, likely to practice her Originium Arts once more.

Carrying two servings of breakfast, Felix gently pushed open Loughshinny's bedroom door.

She was awake.

Loughshinny's age was roughly the same as Felix's, but by Sankta's standards of age, Felix was still considered to be in his youth.

"Um… Teacher Felix… thank you."

Loughshinny's voice was soft and gentle. She didn't seem to speak often, but at her core, she was a kind person. She nodded slightly to express her gratitude, every gesture revealing the refinement of her noble upbringing.

She was leaning against a punctured pillow, her tail draped from one side of the quilt. Though she sat upright on the bed, it was clear how difficult it was for her to maintain that position.

Felix handed her the breakfast. "Mandragora made this. It's a little bland."

"I'll have to thank that child later… Thank you. I'm ready to eat."

Loughshinny slowly began to move her fork. Felix, meanwhile, ate his portion while reading the Oak Grove Daily that Mandragora had picked up that morning. As expected, there was no mention of last night's events. The paper was still filled with lofty words about promoting unity and friendship between the Tara and Victoria nobles, preaching the idea of both houses becoming one family. As for what had actually happened the night before… Was there any sign that anything had happened at all?

"Teacher Felix… you're not going to ask me anything?"

Felix looked over at Loughshinny, his tone calm, almost like he was beginning a lesson. Behind him, his wings shimmered faintly in golden hues.

"I'm all ears for whatever you're willing to tell me, Loughshinny."