Ebenholz

Ebenholz is a 6-star character in Arknights. Ebenholz's class is Caster. Faction: Leithanien.

On our Arknights tier list Ebenholz is B tier, 105th of the 293 characters ranked, from where 8 current tier lists put Ebenholz.

A 6-star Mystic Caster with extremely high ATK who stores attacks to fire later at 135% damage, keeping one extra charge just for elites and bosses. Quickening Presto dumps rapid Arts hits, Desolate Echoes turns charges into Remnants that pull and damage enemies, and Sound of Silence targets only elites or bosses with more attack speed and a bigger talent bonus.

His third skill does huge boss damage, but it rewards careful timing and turning it off manually.

MSC-X: "Could you be–?!"

Ebenholz quickens his pace as he exits the Medical Department, hoping to shake off the person behind him, but he's nevertheless followed all the way to his dormitory door.

"You have crossed the line."

"What does it matter?! I felt something was different about you.

I can see now–it really is you, Graf Urtica!"

The man's forehead is rife with sweat, his voice dramatically lowered.

"I know you. You're just biding your time, waiting."

"You have the wrong person."

"Impossible! Look at these–Haguenau's inherited dice and wand, which went missing along with him twenty years ago!

He and I grew up together! He told me himself that they were bestowed on his family by the Emperor!"

"Haguenau? ...I'm not familiar."

"But I know what these are! Nobody else could have used them as weapons," the man pants, "and you have no idea what I went through afterward!

Everyone said I was tainted by Haguenau's madness, shunned me, but Haguenau was never mad.

And neither was I! I even caught Oripathy thanks to their backstabbing–I lost my land and family estate.

I fell from being a well-to-do squire to this sorry state!"

"You have my sympathies–"

"No! That was nothing! They were crueler still, a hundred times over!"

"A hundred times? Just what did they do to you?"

"They dared to slip my only daughter some kind of drug, and she disobeyed me, you understand?

She went and married a filthy commoner, even had a bastard child!

Can you imagine such disgrace? One worse than death?

Would you truly permit such a scandal if it were you?!"

"I beg you, take me as a retainer! Take me back to that age, to when we controlled with fear, when we made the petty thieves who dared question you shudder in despair!

To when we could drive such presumptuous thoughts from the commoners' minds!"

"Of course, I would gladly accept any treatment, be it favor or reprimand!

I would fear you as though every day were my last!

I would serve you, heed your every command!

Should you call for my life to–"

Ebenholz sighs the heaviest sigh, gathers the dice in the hollow of his palm, and presents them to the man.

"Very well, you will become my retainer here and now, with this secret ritual.

Close your eyes and listen well."

The man's entire body trembles with excitement.

"Fick der Graf Urtica.""F**k the Count (of) Urtica" in German

"Fick all die Kaiser, fick all die Kurfürsten, die Herzöge, die Grafen, die Barone"F**k to the Emperor, f**k to the Prince-Electors, the Dukes, the Counts, the Barons" in German–as well as you, Herr Knappe,"Mr.

Squire" in German or should I say, Herr Ex-Knappe."

The man's expression gradually twists.

"Wake up. No more living your dreams of superiority."

"You"ve lost your land, so do as the prideful commoner does and lift your head, puff out your chest, and live on."

"That is the one and only word of advice I"ll give you."

MSC-Y: An Engineering operator, his beard slightly white, handed me my custom-order set of casting equipment.

Its appearance was exactly as I'd requested: a simple metal case with not a hint of adornment, a wand with the surface polished to a mirror sheen, and a spherical energy reserve unit in a full silver color.

Freshly produced, the Originium circuitry gave off the smell of solvent.

I picked up the wand from the case, and the reserve smoothly floated up with it, responding to the wand's movements, resting into a stable orbit in the air some thirty or forty centimeters from my hand.

I fired the reserve out, and the red circle bullseye at the center of the alloy was dented inwards by it.

Impeccable energy conversion efficiency.

The Engineering operator's and my expressions were in total accord.

We understood what a masterpiece this was.

Some months later, I met him again, bringing my old wand with me, and some Originium dice in my pocket.

"Old shoes do fit easier," he remarked.

I could only shrug.

"Still, I'd like to know why you went back to your old equipment," he said, his gaze sharp behind his goggles.

"Even if it's just cosmetic reasons–no skin off my nose.

Call it a little after-sales service courtesy of Engineering."

"Because of... the noise."

"Noise?"

I simply pulled out my wand and give it a perfunctory wave.

The tip streaked through the air, but what came was not the sound of slicing air, but music.

"I did some research into your wand there, when we got your request.

The frequencies it vibrates against the air at are beyond common sense, I can tell you that.

It's a real mystery, but it doesn't do anything to help casting.

Doesn't hinder either, though."

"I understand, but this ties to my–"

My personal affairs.

I ordered the wand precisely to distance myself from that bothersome music.

It and the fantastical melody that once played at the Afterglow Hall are all but the same.

For each day that I use the wand, that night I dream of that scene again, and hear that melody.

The new wand successfully quietened my dreams, but the scene still laid before me, the silent struggle all the more wretched, the silent death throes all the more terrible.

Only once I took up my old wand again did I understand.

That nightmare would run its way through my entire life–had already done so–and to try and forget was mere futility.

I couldn't flee it, and couldn't reconcile with it either.

I was forced to concede that it was a part of me, and that I would fight it for the rest of my days.

As now well demonstrated. I was the one who ordered the wand, and the one who gave up on it.

Graf Urtica simply walked away from it all, and left all the trouble and anger to others, but Ebenholz could not.

Of course, Ebenholz could denounce those morons who thought themselves so lofty; however, faced with a craftsman who he'd offended, did he truly have the right to send them packing with but a few vile words?

If it were... him, what would he do? What would he want me to do?

The answer couldn't be any clearer.

With difficulty, I cleared my throat, unsure if I would offend the craftsman once again with this.

"The story is a little long, but... if you're willing to listen, I can explain in full detail."