Chương 105: Apparently, Magic Books Cost More Than Money

After several more days of lifting blocks, chairs, metal weights, and anything else inside his room that would not immediately break when dropped, Sieghart finally reached the point where Telekinesis stopped feeling interesting enough to occupy every waking hour. That did not mean he had mastered it.

He was simply beginning to understand the basic rules well enough that every new improvement required considerably more repetition, concentration, and patience than the satisfying breakthroughs he had enjoyed during the first week. Unfortunately, Sieghart had never possessed an unlimited supply of patience. He closed the Telekinesis book and looked at the worn cover for several seconds.

The book had already given him Psionics, Psychokinesis, and a spell capable of becoming absurdly useful eventually, which meant there was no reason to hoard it inside his room. More importantly, Mira had written other books. That fact immediately improved his mood. Sieghart tucked the volume beneath one arm and left the basement, making his way through Lunar Arc while considering what kind of magical technique he should request next.

Something involving perception or long-range manipulation sounded particularly useful. Mira was seated behind her desk when Sieghart arrived, which appeared to be her natural habitat whenever she was not actively supervising guild affairs. Several documents surrounded her, along with a cup of something that had probably become cold hours earlier. Sieghart placed the Telekinesis book on her desk.

"I'm done with this one." Mira glanced at the cover.

"That quickly?"

"I learned enough to continue without it." Mira studied him for several seconds before slowly pulling the book toward herself. Sieghart immediately recognized the familiar expression suggesting she was calculating whether his definition of enough matched anyone else's.

"You can use Telekinesis now?"

"Technically." Mira sighed while moving the book onto a nearby stack, and Sieghart waited until she finished organizing it before moving directly toward the actual reason he had climbed out of the basement.

"I want another book." Mira did not even hesitate.

"No." Sieghart blinked. He had expected negotiations. Immediate rejection felt unnecessarily efficient.

"One similar to that one."

"No."

"You didn't even think about it."

"I did."

"For less than a second."

"That was enough." Sieghart crossed his arms while staring at her. Mira stared back with the relaxed patience of someone who had apparently anticipated exactly how this conversation would unfold before he entered the room. Eventually, she leaned backward and gestured toward the Telekinesis book.

"I'm not handing you every piece of magical knowledge I have for free." Sieghart considered pointing out that knowledge became considerably more useful when shared, particularly inside an organization supposedly dedicated to preserving magic in a world dominated by Aura. Somehow, he suspected that argument would not help. Instead, he adjusted his approach.

"Do you have a job you want done?" Mira raised one eyebrow.

"In exchange for another book?"

"Yes."

"That sounded dangerously reasonable."

"I can be reasonable." Sieghart ignored that unnecessary commentary and waited for an answer. If Mira wanted him interacting with the guild more often, exchanging work for magical knowledge seemed like an arrangement that should satisfy both sides. Unfortunately, Mira shook her head.

"Nothing appropriate right now." Sieghart frowned.

"You don't have any jobs?"

"We always have jobs."

"Then give me one."

"No." The speed of her answer was beginning to become irritating, particularly because Lunar Arc employed enough people that Sieghart regularly saw mission notices posted throughout the headquarters. Claiming there was nothing for him sounded suspiciously selective. He leaned slightly against the desk.

"Is the guild going to close soon?" Mira's expression changed immediately.

"No, you fool." Sieghart waited. Mira rubbed her forehead before continuing, apparently realizing that refusing to explain anything would simply encourage him to ask increasingly stupid questions until one eventually became inconvenient enough to answer. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"We have work. What we don't currently have are jobs I'm willing to give to a ten-year-old." Sieghart disliked how often his physical age appeared whenever other people wanted to prevent him from doing something useful. Being ten had somehow become less of a biological condition and more of an administrative restriction.

"What kind of jobs?" Mira became noticeably more serious before answering, and the shift immediately caught Sieghart's attention. Whatever she had been refusing to assign him was apparently different from the comparatively ordinary problems Lunar Arc usually handled.

"Border work." Sieghart stopped leaning against the desk.

"Which border?"

"Several." That answer was considerably less reassuring. Mira folded her hands and glanced toward one of the reports scattered across her desk. Sieghart noticed several seals from regions he did not immediately recognize, suggesting the problem extended well beyond Lunar Arc's immediate territory.

"Multiple groups have become more aggressive along the human borders. Raids, infiltration attempts, armed movements, and smaller forces testing defenses have all increased during the last few months." Sieghart frowned slightly while processing that information. Border fighting itself was hardly unusual in this world, especially considering how many tribes, nations, and corrupted groups existed beyond human territory. The concerning part was the timing.

"More than usual?"

"Considerably." Mira's answer immediately created several unpleasant possibilities, none of which Sieghart possessed enough information to evaluate properly. Independent groups becoming aggressive simultaneously could represent coincidence, broader political instability, or something deliberately encouraging them. Another possibility entered his mind before he could stop it. Himself. Sieghart remained silent while the thought developed. His existence was already ridiculous even by the standards of a magical world.

He had died in another world, retained memories from his previous life, awakened a System nobody else appeared to possess, and somehow gained access to Infinite Mana. Those things could not be normal. He had spent years assuming his reincarnation mattered primarily to him, but there was no guarantee that the consequences stopped there. If whatever caused his rebirth affected larger forces, perhaps unusual events elsewhere were connected somehow. The possibility sounded arrogant. That did not make it impossible.

Sieghart had already discovered strange similarities between himself and Seraphina, obtained foreign magical knowledge from a corrupted monster core, and repeatedly encountered situations where his abilities interacted with the world in ways nobody expected. Perhaps he was simply noticing patterns because he expected patterns. Perhaps not. He had no evidence either way. Sieghart decided not to mention any of that to Mira.

Informing someone that increased invasions might somehow be related to his reincarnation would require explaining several secrets he had deliberately avoided sharing. Instead, he focused on the simpler problem.

"I can fight them." Mira stared at him. Sieghart continued before she could interrupt.

"If the Firians didn't learn their lesson the first time, I can go kick their ass again." Mira's expression did not change. That was usually worse. The Firian campaign had already proven that Sieghart could survive against enemies considerably more dangerous than ordinary bandits or monsters. He had overwhelmed their commander despite the tribe's unusual ability to consume flames. From Sieghart's perspective, that made border work seem considerably less unreasonable than Mira apparently believed.

He possessed more combat experience than many people older than him and enough magical power to compensate for several physical disadvantages. Mira remained silent long enough that Sieghart eventually realized she was not considering whether to accept the suggestion. She was instead deciding how seriously she needed to explain why the suggestion had never been an option.

"I'm not sending children to kill people." Sieghart almost immediately pointed out that she had sent Mellia, Lucia, Kart, and Hernan on missions where killing could easily become necessary, but he stopped when he noticed the distinction Mira was making. Monster extermination was one thing. Bandit encounters could still be resolved without killing. Border warfare was different. Sending someone there meant expecting them to fight intelligent enemies with the explicit understanding that one side might need to die.

Mira apparently considered that line significant even when the enemy belonged to an invading force. Sieghart said nothing. The refusal revealed something useful about her. Mira possessed limits. That mattered more than Sieghart initially expected. She ran the only recognized mage guild in human territory, constantly dealt with political pressure from Aura families, and probably possessed dozens of practical reasons to treat talented young mages as resources. Yet she still refused.

Perhaps her morals were inconvenient. Perhaps they were admirable. Either way, Sieghart mentally recorded them. Arguing would accomplish nothing. He could explain that he had already killed before, that enemies would not care about his age, and that refusing to use capable fighters merely because they were young was strategically inefficient. None of those arguments would change Mira's position.

Worse, pressing too hard might make her wonder why a ten-year-old was so comfortable discussing killing people in the first place. Sieghart already gave everyone enough reasons to consider him unusual. He shrugged.

"Fine." Mira blinked once, apparently surprised that he surrendered so easily.

"You're not going to argue?"

"No."

"That might be the most suspicious thing you've done today."

"I learned when something is a waste of time."

"Occasionally." Sieghart ignored the repeated insult to his maturity and reached toward the Telekinesis book before remembering that he no longer owned it. He had returned the only useful bargaining chip he brought into the room. Apparently, this conversation had ended badly. No job. No magical knowledge. No opportunity to improve a new branch. Sieghart turned toward the door. Mira remained quiet. He took two steps.

"Wait." Sieghart stopped. That was rarely a good word. He looked over his shoulder and found Mira studying him with a thoughtful expression. The earlier refusal had disappeared, replaced by the look she usually developed shortly before making his life more complicated. Sieghart returned to the desk reluctantly.

"You remembered a job?"

"Maybe." That answer was already bad. Mira tapped one finger against the papers in front of her while continuing to examine him, as though comparing several possibilities before deciding whether whatever idea had occurred to her was sensible. Sieghart suspected it was not. Most interesting opportunities were rarely sensible.

"There might be something you can do." Sieghart immediately became more interested despite himself. If Mira had reconsidered only after discussing his desire for additional magical knowledge, the job probably involved something stranger than carrying supplies or helping with guild maintenance.

"What kind?"

"One that might let you learn a new form of magic." Sieghart froze. That sentence was unfairly effective. Mira knew him too well. He had been prepared to reject anything obviously troublesome, especially after Bellhaven had transformed a simple extermination mission into bandits, a corrupted guardian, Necromancy, and several weeks of future questions. Then she mentioned new magic. Sieghart narrowed his eyes.

"What is it?" Mira smiled. That made everything worse. Sieghart immediately understood that whatever answer came next would probably involve danger, inconvenience, strange people, or some combination of all three. He had already started regretting the question. Unfortunately, he still wanted the answer.