Ulrich returned to the shadow realm and gathered his belongings.

  He intended to prepare for the return trip this time before Rosaline’s eventual notice, and to do that, he’d need a handful of Umbra Shards. The shadow realm was strange in many ways; one of them was the tendency to ‘exact’ a price from the people who descended and those who wished to leave.

  It’s unknown why it behaved this way, but this has been the norm for so long that people have forgotten why. Ultimately, it was another truth that everyone accepted. The longer a person stayed in the shadow realm, the greater the price needed. Lingered long enough, and leaving the shadow realm became impossible, well, not quite; just extremely pricey!

  “Heh, ten shards. Considering that I only stayed for two days, it should be enough…”

  It was already nightfall, and he couldn’t just leave Helgan’s Keep to perform the corresponding ritual. In the end, Ulrich stayed in his room, caressing the silver pendant whistle hanging on his neck. After a minute, he clutched the whistle, raising it to his mouth, then blew on it.

  He’d expect a sound, but there was none. Like that time when Victor blew on his whistle, Ulrich's experience was no different; he wasn’t special. The whistle was like a hungry, ravenous whale, sucking all the air from his lungs. And even despite his greatest attempt, no sound came.

  For a moment, it became a challenge to see how hard he could blow on it, but he stopped himself when he thought about Rosaline. Blowing the whistle is the same as sending a ‘message’. By repeatedly doing so, wouldn’t he effectively be spamming her?

  Pushing away the thought of dealing with Rosaline’s wraith, he placed the umbra shards on the ground and carefully placed a candle next to them. The return ritual was directed at the shadow realm, not any other entity. That is, he’d expected to pay the ‘transport’ fee. In this regard, the ritual was actually quite informal, since the realm itself wasn’t alive. Or was it?

  In that moment, he closed his eyes, whispering in Hermes:

  “The land lost from light.”

  “A realm of perpetual darkness.”

  “The boundless shadows beneath the Odetree!”

  Once he directed the prayer to the shadow land, Ulrich pointed it back at himself:

  “I, Ulrich Constantine, offer you the price to open the way to the land beyond!”

  The candle stirred, lit by an invisible flame—no, it wasn’t invisible, more like black. So black that it looked invisible. The cold gathered in the room, and a giant, dark hand appeared through the fabric of reality, grabbing at the pile of Umbra Shards on the ground, before vanishing.

  Throughout the entire sequence, Ulrich did not dare to open his eyes or attempt to glance at what came. That’d be a death wish!

  Finally, after about a second, a black door appeared before him. He smiled, opened his eyes, took the rucksack with him, and entered.

  As he passed through the illusory door, a tunnel opened before him. Countless hands grabbed his clothes, some forming mouths, whispering into his ears. A few even take the form of hideous eyeballs, peering into his soul.

  Ugh, this feeling is disgusting!

  Following the maxim “Don’t listen and look at what you shouldn’t”, Ulrich silently made it toward the end of the dark tunnel.

  …

  The memorial hall was the same. A wave of stale air struck him, though that didn’t disgust him, not after his experience in the shadow realm.

  Glancing at the rows of candles, his eyes flickered. Every single one, regardless of size, was lit. The hot smoke clashed with the cold air, producing a layer of mist in the hall. Ulrich never thought he’d like that scent, the scent of candle wax to be specific, but he found it rather pleasant compared to the stench of decomposed corpses, or moldy stones and rancid cheese.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  In that moment, his vision allowed him to see the shadow lines dancing in the air, even without activating his Shadow Vision. Following the threads, he found his eyes landing on Rosaline’s familiar figure.

  That blossoming smile on her face was the same, the spring within autumn. However, Rosaline's face was pale, than it was before he left for the shadow realm. Subconsciously, a thought rose in his heart.

  Has she been waiting in the Repository for my return?

  Ulrich smiled, expressing his friendliness, and raised his hand in the air. “How have you been, Rosaline?”

  "Ulrich?" She coughed, her voice a little weak and somewhat airy. Rosaline's appearance and condition startled him, but he didn't display it in his body language, trying not to make any rash move. Even in her current state, his intuition was flaring like a feline on edge.

  If she wanted to, I would die on the spot. How frightening…!

  He nodded, already familiar with this process. It reminded him of that time, his first awakening, with all his ignorance. Feeling the bulging sack in his hand, a sense of accomplishment swelled in his chest.

  In that moment, a barrier separated them, presumably that Shadow Veil. Strangely enough, this time, she didn’t ask him any odd questions. Instead, she gestured her hand to motion him forward.

  “Can you try to step outside?”

  “Of course.” He said, confident that it wouldn’t affect him at all. After a few steps, he arrived at the edge of the veil. A bit curious, he raised his finger, trying to touch the veil, but ultimately, falling short.

  Indeed, it doesn’t affect me. But I already knew that!

  His finger simply passed through, like trying to touch a layer of fog, and his body followed quickly after. Seeing this, Rosaline's smile widened, the tension on her face wore off as she coughed.

  “I see you have changed. How was it? Your first time entering the shadow realm?”

  He paused, recalling the stench of death everywhere, the ruins and countless undead he’d encountered. What was she expecting, asking this question? Honestly, Ulrich believed she brought it up as a joke, but at this moment, he had no energy for that. So he only left one comment:

  “Good.”

  Her face shifted, a mix of confusion and perplexity. Ultimately, she didn’t question it and changed the topic. “I was going to inform you to prepare for the ritual and return. But you contacted me before I had the chance to, truly, what great timing you have.”

  Saying so, she narrowed her eyes, blinking at the amulet on his neck.

  Uh, did she notice that I overdid it with the whistle?

  There was some hesitation on her face, as though she was holding back her word. In the end, she sighed, massaging the side of her head. “Next time, just blow on it once. There’s no need to do it a second time.”

  Ulrich's stiff shoulder relaxed, letting out a breath of relief. “Yes, ma’am!”

  Immediately, she glared at him, the kind of piercing gaze that was sharper than Henrik’s sword. Goddess, why are these swordsmen trying so hard to find a sharp sword? Just look at Rosaline!

  “Sorry, out of habit,” He wryly smiled.

  As for following Ma’am Felanor’s words, Ulrich decided to postpone that for now. After all, he had other business to attend to, and still wasn’t certain what she meant by talents. Either way, he’d plan on telling Rosaline when the time was appropriate, most likely when he entered the shadow realm again.

  Ulrich's return meant many things, not just for himself, but for the Ministry member as well.

  Firstly, Rosaline is finally free from being chained to the Repository. He’d suspected that she was waiting for him to return, since she had mentioned that her time in the Repository was almost up. Well, that was before she had to pick up extra shifts because he’d entered the shadow realm.

  I feel bad now… He promised himself to make it up to her, perhaps by gifting her a book or novel. She seemed to take quite a liking to reading, though Ulrich was not entirely sure which genre or medium they were.

  Hehe, for a seer, this is too easy!

  He coughed, sitting next to Victor as they rode a carriage to the agreed-upon meeting place with Donnie Shelby. This was the second matter that was brought forward by Ulrich’s return.

  “What’s wrong with you? You got sick too?” Victor asked, glancing at Ulrich. Many people in the Ministry had been coughing as of late, like a flu had risen, spreading its mark across Euston Street.

  Why are you turning your head? It’s creeping me out, dammit. Ulrich held back the urge to throw a careless remark as he looked outside.

  “I was just thinking of something,” He said, recalling a crucial detail, ”Say, you are close to Rosaline, yes?”

  “What?”

  “Ahem.” Ulrich cleared his throat, believing that Victor didn’t hear him and repeated. “Y—“

  “I heard you the first time.”

  Then why are you saying what?!

  Ulrich's hand reached for the revolver on his waist, but stopped himself, reeling in the intrusive thoughts in his mind.