As blood-red petals fluttered through the air, scattering in every direction, they resembled a breathtaking yet deadly rain of funeral blossoms. Gradually, they dissolved into energy particles and vanished without a trace.
Vlad curled his lips slightly, looking faintly dissatisfied.
"Sir, what was that just now?" Muriel stepped forward, eyes wide with astonishment.
"Oh, that?" Vlad shot her a sideways glance and replied in a casual tone tinged with mild disdain, "I've been studying your collection of witchcraft scrolls these past few days. I had a few ideas—so I combined them with the vampire clan's blood energy and gave it a try."
"I didn't expect it to turn out like that."
"Sir, this is an entirely new system of witchcraft!" Muriel exclaimed.
Clearly, she didn't notice the look of disinterest on Vlad's face. She was still reeling from the shock of what he had created—a completely new branch of magic.
Although the blood magic Vlad used wasn't particularly powerful—barely reaching the level of advanced witchcraft—it was something unprecedented.
And he had developed it in only a few days. How could this not leave a witch like Muriel speechless?
Vlad ignored her astonishment and turned toward the injured little girl.
Gretel, with tear-filled eyes, stared in a daze at the young man who had suddenly appeared and saved her in the nick of time.
As he picked her up, tears spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably. She clung to Vlad tightly and sobbed into his shoulder.
Vlad sighed helplessly as he held the dirty, tear-streaked girl who kept rubbing her snotty face against him.
She had clearly been pushed far past her limits today. After crying her heart out, the emotional tension finally eased, and she dozed off in Vlad's arms without even realizing it.
Looking down at the fair-skinned, somewhat grubby little girl, Vlad immediately recognized her as Gretel—just as she had looked in her childhood.
But something didn't add up.
They hadn't yet encountered the Candy House Witch, an event that was supposed to happen a year later. So why had she and her brother been captured now?
It was a clear sign—the butterfly effect was already starting to unfold.
Meanwhile, Muriel had opened the cage and released the little boy, Hansel.
Vlad glanced at the boy and saw that although he still seemed scared, his bright eyes were locked on Vlad with admiration.
After hesitating for a moment, Hansel stepped forward and asked earnestly, "Uncle, you were amazing just now! Can you teach me how to fight like that?"
"That way, I'll be able to protect my sister and my family when bad people show up."
Looking into the boy's hopeful eyes, Vlad considered for a moment before replying, "We're friends of your mother. If you want to grow stronger and protect your family, go to her."
Then, without paying any more attention to Hansel's stunned expression, he handed the sleeping Gretel to Muriel and asked her to take the children back.
Watching Hansel glance back repeatedly as he walked away, Vlad was certain that after this incident, Adrianna would definitely decide to join them.
Even if not for her own sake, she'd have to consider the safety of her children.
After all, life is fragile. And in Augsburg—a place teeming with black witches—even someone like her couldn't guarantee their protection at all times.
As Vlad turned to leave, a scroll lying open on a nearby table caught his eye.
Curious, he picked it up and glanced over it before leaving.
It contained a single phrase: "The blood moon has come."
The words instantly reminded him of the blood moon he had seen in the Village. His instincts told him there was a deep mystery hidden behind that phenomenon.
Since it was still early, Vlad wasn't in a hurry to return.
Instead, he followed a forest path and made his way toward the nearby town of Augsburg. He had come here for a reason—he remembered that one of the witch hunters, the white witch Mina, was supposed to be hiding in this town.
At this point in time, however, Mina shouldn't be very old.
In Witch Hunters, Mina was described as being no more than thirty. But as a powerful white witch—especially one skilled in medicine and support magic—she would be far more capable than a black witch when it came to preserving her youth and longevity.
Witches generally lived much longer than ordinary people. Reaching a hundred, or even nearly two hundred, was not unusual.
Given that, the white witch Mina couldn't possibly be as young as Hansel and Gretel.
While wandering through the town, Vlad unexpectedly picked up traces of her presence.
Following the sound of footsteps, he spotted a girl of about seventeen or eighteen emerging from a lively pub.
She had long, silky golden hair that flowed to her waist, swaying gracefully as she moved.
She wore a fitted yellow linen dress beneath a beige top, which emphasized her ample chest and gave her a very attractive appearance.
Her complexion was unusually fair—completely different from that of the typical village girl.
At that moment, her eyes held a flash of panic as she hurried down the street, clearly on her way home.
Vlad arrived just in time to see a group of three or four hooligans block her in an alley and start harassing her.
"Haha! Hey, little beauty, where're you headed? I just want to buy you a drink. Why the rush?"
"Please move. I need to go home," the girl replied, dodging their reaching hands.
Though flustered, she didn't show any fear.
She lifted her head and stared defiantly at the men, trying to put on a brave front.
Vlad found the scene rather amusing. He was curious to see how she would handle herself—perhaps she would cast a spell?
But what happened next made him chuckle inwardly.
"Help! Help! Someone help me! Woo~!" the girl suddenly screamed toward the street.
The thugs panicked. Their faces darkened as they rushed up, clamped a hand over her mouth, and tried to drag her away by force.
Vlad thought she would finally use witchcraft—but instead, she just struggled wildly. Her long legs kicked out instinctively, her face full of genuine panic—no hint of magic at all.
More importantly, Vlad could sense that her fear and struggle were completely real—pure instinct, not some act.
"Stop!"
Though confused, Vlad didn't hesitate.
Since they were in a populated town, a crowd had already gathered, watching from the street. Vlad didn't want to draw too much attention to himself, so he kept his actions measured.
He calmly stepped forward, pulled the girl behind him, and shielded her.
Then he turned and faced the thugs—not so much fighting them as playing with them.
They didn't use any magic, and their attacks were laughably clumsy. To Vlad, they might as well have been moving in slow motion.
After toying with them for a few seconds, he lost interest and knocked them all down with three quick punches and two swift kicks.