Chương 130: Mira Was Not Stupid, Unfortunately

The return journey to Seraphina passed without armies, corrupted monsters, or experimental weapons exploding beside Sieghart, which made the entire trip feel peaceful. He spent most of the ride studying runic diagrams, testing Telekinesis on pebbles beneath his coat, and refusing to think too deeply about Wrath. Fury remained sealed beside Zombification inside his System, although Sieghart disliked how quickly his thoughts returned to the strength reward attached to every future level.

Two Strength per level was valuable, particularly after the Orc King demonstrated exactly how poorly Sieghart's body handled direct contact with something overwhelmingly stronger. Sieghart had enough dangerous ideas without deliberately turning himself or anyone else into an angrier version of the Orc King. The coach finally entered Seraphina during the afternoon, passing beneath the city's familiar gates while travelers gathered their belongings and prepared to separate.

He reached Lunar Arc shortly afterward, carrying a heavier bag, several completed tools, an engraver, new magical knowledge, and far more secrets than when he departed. Several guild members greeted him casually while continuing their work, apparently unaware that he had spent two nights poisoning orcs and fighting their king. That suited Sieghart perfectly, although he suspected the peaceful anonymity would survive only until Mira began asking questions he preferred not answering.

He considered returning to his room first, but delaying the report would only make Mira more suspicious and possibly encourage her to visit him personally. Sieghart headed toward her office instead, rehearsing a version of events containing truthful information, strategic omissions, and absolutely no mention of Sin Magic. Mira's door stood partially open when he arrived, revealing the guild master seated behind her desk with several reports spread around an untouched meal.

Sieghart knocked against the frame, mostly because Ronan's habits had taught him how irritating unannounced entrances could become when someone possessed secrets. Mira looked up immediately, and the tension around her eyes eased before suspicion replaced it with enough speed to be almost insulting.

"You're finally back." Sieghart entered and closed the door behind himself, keeping his bag over one shoulder because he had no intention of making the conversation feel permanent.

"It seems I have been missed."

"I thought you would leave the town whether it was under siege or not." Mira leaned backward while examining him from boots to face, probably searching for injuries, altered behavior, or evidence of another disastrous experiment. Sieghart had healed everything visible during the journey, but several deeper bruises remained tender enough that careful observation might reveal how cautiously he moved.

"The clients paid me extra to help with mass production." Mira waited with one eyebrow raised, making it obvious that two short sentences would not satisfy her curiosity after an unexpected siege.

"It was a good experience." That answer was true. Sieghart had learned runic engineering, Enhanced Smell, Poison Sphere, Fury, and several practical methods for combining simple effects. The fact that some lessons involved almost being split in half by an enormous corrupted warrior did not make the experience less educational. Mira's gaze moved toward the engraver handle visible inside his bag, then toward the cold-resistant coat folded beneath several books.

"They let you keep equipment?"

"I made some of it."

"You made magical equipment after one week?"

"Basic equipment." Sieghart placed the lamp and canteen on her desk, partly because showing ordinary accomplishments might distract her from wondering about the extraordinary ones. Mira examined the illumination rune, tested the canteen's purification effect, and inspected the engraved lines with enough familiarity to recognize competent beginner work.

"You learned quickly."

"They were good teachers." Mira set the canteen down and remained silent for several seconds, which Sieghart immediately recognized as the pause before the actual interrogation began.

"I heard rumors about the siege."

"Rumors travel quickly."

"A mysterious mage apparently helped defend the town." Sieghart adjusted the strap around his shoulder while maintaining an expression of polite interest, although he already knew exactly which details she had probably received. Reports would mention falling Giant Fireballs, poison clouds, a flying figure, the sudden retreat, and perhaps the Orc King's unexplained disappearance.

"An unknown mage."

"That sounds mysterious." Mira's eyes narrowed while her tapping stopped completely, suggesting Sieghart had finally reached the limit of how much deliberate foolishness she intended to tolerate.

"Fire supposedly rained across the enemy camp."

"Unpleasant weather."

"There was also a poisonous cloud that made half the battlefield smell like sewage."

"Extremely smelly weather." Mira tapped one finger against her desk, slowly enough that each impact felt like another invitation for Sieghart to reconsider his strategy.

"The witnesses described someone using several kinds of magic."

"Maybe one of your friends or underlings was nearby and felt too shy for fame." Mira stared at him without blinking, and Sieghart briefly wondered whether offering an even more ridiculous explanation might somehow improve the first one. It probably would not improve anything, but consistency had already committed him to the approach, and retreating now would only make his evasion more obvious.

"Are you planning to treat me like I'm stupid?" Sieghart folded his arms and met her stare, deciding that allowing implied accusations to become accepted facts would create a very inconvenient precedent. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"I answer direct questions. I also answer roundabout questioning with sarcasm." Mira closed her eyes and released a long breath through her nose, looking momentarily like someone reconsidering several years of charitable decisions. Sieghart remained quiet because explaining that her implied accusation technically qualified as nonsense would probably extend the conversation and encourage several more direct questions.

When Mira opened her eyes again, the tired amusement had vanished, leaving the direct seriousness Sieghart had been expecting since entering.

"Did you do it?"

"I gave them a hand." Mira waited again, clearly expecting additional detail despite receiving a technically accurate response to the exact question she had chosen. Sieghart decided to provide enough information that she would not immediately ask whether he had stood inside the workshop throughout both attacks.

"The two workshop owners can give me work and knowledge in the future." He placed one hand upon the bag containing his engraver, allowing the practical benefit to remain visible while he continued explaining his reasoning.

"If the town fell, that arrangement would become considerably less useful." Mira studied him without speaking, and Sieghart could almost see her separating every word into what he had admitted, avoided, and deliberately reframed. He had confirmed involvement without specifying methods, targets, timing, disguises, corrupted cores, or how far beyond the walls he had actually traveled.

"You helped because you wanted future lessons?"

"That was one reason."

"What were the others?"

"Combat experience." Mira's expression flattened further, apparently recognizing that Sieghart's answer contained two meanings and had been chosen specifically because neither required an actual lie. Sieghart realized she probably interpreted the word as practical battlefield experience rather than System rewards, which made the answer truthful in two different directions.

"And protecting the town?"

"That was useful too. Didn't want my bed to be attacked by smelly orcs." Mira rubbed her forehead slowly, looking like someone attempting to suppress the realization that every useful answer from Sieghart required three additional interrogations.

"You make altruism sound like an accidental side effect."

"It usually works better when people don't depend on it." The answer silenced her briefly. Sieghart knew it sounded cynical, but relying upon strangers to become heroic at the correct moment had never impressed him. People protected what they valued, defended those they loved, pursued rewards, followed principles, or acted because the alternatives threatened something important.

The result mattered more than pretending every helpful action emerged from perfectly selfless intentions, especially when hesitation could leave thousands of people dead. Mira examined him for several seconds longer, then glanced toward one of the northern reports lying near the edge of her desk. Sieghart recognized the military seal immediately, although the document remained too far away for him to read without enhancing his vision.

She could ask about the Orc King next, and Sieghart had not decided how directly he intended to answer that particular question. Mira instead closed the report and placed another document over it, hiding the seal beneath ordinary guild paperwork without changing her expression.

"You can leave." Sieghart raised one eyebrow, surprised that Mira had ended the interrogation precisely when her questions were approaching the information he most wanted hidden.

"That's it?"

"Would you prefer more questions?"

"Not really."

"Then leave before I reconsider." Sieghart nodded, collected the lamp and canteen, then turned toward the door before Mira could remember telepathy, corrupted cores, or northern royalty. His body remained relaxed until he entered the hallway and closed the office behind himself, separating him from the guild master's unreadable stare. Mira had almost certainly learned more from his evasions than from his answers, but uncertainty remained better than a complete confession.

He headed toward the basement, already planning several days of sleep, healing, runic practice, and absolutely no contact with angry kings. Inside the office, Mira remained motionless until Sieghart's footsteps faded completely beyond the corridor and the underground stairwell door closed. Only then did she pull the northern military report from beneath the other paperwork and unfold the pages across her desk again. The official account contained almost nothing reliable.

Exhausted soldiers had witnessed enormous Fireballs descending upon the orc backline and poisonous mist disrupting both armies. Several defenders reported seeing a figure airborne above the battlefield, but darkness, distance, and magical distortion made every physical description contradictory. Some claimed the mage was an elderly man, others described a teenager, and one frightened archer insisted the figure possessed glowing green eyes. The second night created fewer witnesses and far more troubling evidence.

Orc formations collapsed before dawn, abandoned supplies remained scattered, and their entire army withdrew northward. Scouts later found sections of camp frozen, burned, flooded, poisoned, and cut apart by magic drawn from several completely different disciplines. They also found hundreds of orc corpses, many missing the corrupted cores that northern researchers had recently begun documenting inside their bodies. Mira disliked that detail more than the destruction.

She had warned Sieghart against absorbing corrupted cores, and his careful wording suggested he still considered warnings invitations to investigate. The missing Orc King created an even larger problem. No human strike force claimed responsibility, while surviving orcs removed every recognizable trace before retreating. Rumors said the King died, yet nobody found the corpse, weapon, armor, or core required to confirm what happened inside the camp.

Mira rested her elbows upon the desk and pressed both hands against her face, trying to decide how much impossibility one ten-year-old could reasonably create. Sieghart had admitted helping the defenders. That alone explained the Fireballs, poison, ice, wind, water, and several other effects appearing during the siege. He possessed every necessary element, effectively endless mana, unusual range, and enough creativity to turn basic spells into battlefield-scale problems. The first night was easy to believe.

Sieghart could have remained airborne, hidden by darkness, while bombarding enemies unable to reach him. The second night was different. Someone had entered the orc camp, crossed guarded positions, killed numerous corrupted warriors, and possibly confronted their King. Mira knew what the Orc King had done before reaching the town. Reports credited him with killing experienced Aura commanders and breaking reinforced formations personally.

Several senior warriors had failed to slow him together, yet the army retreated immediately after Sieghart disappeared from his temporary room during the night. That coincidence felt too convenient, but the alternative seemed absurd. Sieghart was talented, not invincible, and his body remained physically young despite magical reinforcement. Then Mira remembered how carefully he had moved when entering her office, especially whenever turning his torso or shifting the bag across one shoulder.

No visible injury remained, but healing magic could erase wounds faster than soreness, exhaustion, or unconscious habits developed while protecting damaged ribs. He had also gained something during the mission. Mira could not identify it precisely, yet his presence felt different beneath the controlled exterior. Not darker exactly, but sharper, as though something angry had entered his magic and been forced behind several deliberate layers of restraint.

Mira possessed telepathy powerful enough to push deeper, but doing so without permission would destroy whatever trust remained between them. Sieghart already guarded information like a cornered animal. Invading his thoughts would only prove every suspicion he held about powerful people eventually choosing control. So Mira watched instead. She measured pauses, evasions, posture, word choices, and the careful way he answered exactly what she asked without volunteering anything dangerous.

His talent remained impossible to estimate because ordinary limitations meant almost nothing when mana never ended and every failed experiment produced another technique. Years earlier, Sieghart had overwhelmed a Firian commander by continuing to cast after every reasonable mage should have collapsed from exhaustion. Since then, he had learned more elements, reinforcement, healing, constructs, illusions, Telekinesis, and whatever new techniques the northern workshop had provided.

Could that collection defeat an Orc King? Mira wanted the answer to remain no, but every northern report made certainty increasingly difficult to defend. A ten-year-old capable of killing something that had crushed veteran Aura users would attract attention from every noble family, military command, and foreign power. More importantly, Sieghart himself would begin treating enemies of that level as opportunities rather than warnings, accelerating the reckless progression Mira had been trying to moderate.