Chương 151: Preparation Was Starting to Look Like Another Excuse

Before continuing toward Seraphina, Ronan insisted they return along the road and deal with the Chimerian corpses properly, arguing that leaving altered bodies scattered inside human territory would invite scavengers, investigators, and possibly several new problems nobody wanted.

Sieghart agreed without much complaint, partly because the bodies might contain biological modifications dangerous enough to survive death and partly because he wanted another opportunity to examine how carefully Ronan handled corrupted remains. They recovered the nearest bodies first, dragging them away from the road and stacking them beside a shallow ditch where smoke would be less visible from distant farms or passing travelers.

Ronan moved quickly from corpse to corpse, locating corrupted cores through experience rather than magical perception, then striking each crystal with the reinforced edge of one knife until the dark-red surface cracked apart. Sieghart watched the first two cores fracture and merely shrugged, which made Ronan pause long enough to narrow his eyes suspiciously before returning to the unpleasant work without offering another warning. The warning would have mattered more several weeks earlier.

Sieghart already knew shattered cores retained usable essence, and his System had absorbed broken fragments without meaningful difficulty after Bellhaven despite the damage. He did not mention that detail. Ronan was already uncomfortable enough with the single Chimerian core Sieghart had secretly absorbed, and explaining that breaking corrupted cores did not actually stop him would accomplish absolutely nothing useful.

Instead, Sieghart created several controlled flames and spread them across the stacked bodies, increasing the temperature gradually until altered flesh, feathers, scales, fur, and stitched tissues began blackening together beneath the heat. The smell became horrific quickly enough that Sieghart disabled Enhanced Smell before the first minute passed, while Ronan covered his nose and moved considerably farther upwind without pretending dignity mattered.

"Those things smell worse than dead."

"They weren't exactly pleasant alive." Burning the bodies required longer than ordinary corpses because several possessed dense hides, reinforced bones, and tissues altered to resist heat, forcing Sieghart to maintain steady flames until almost nothing recognizable remained. By the time the final bones collapsed into brittle black fragments, Ronan had crushed every exposed core and scattered the pieces separately beneath ash, stones, and newly disturbed soil around the ditch. Sieghart did not object.

He had already obtained the sample he wanted, and collecting additional identical cores immediately after promising caution would have made even his own rationalizations sound embarrassingly weak. More importantly, one successful absorption had already answered several questions. Chimerian corruption produced Alchemy Magic, and the System had once again translated foreign power rather than reproducing its original biological method literally. That did not mean Sieghart intended to stop investigating forever.

It merely meant there was little value in absorbing five nearly identical cores when one had already provided a stable pattern. Once Ronan became satisfied that nothing useful remained for Chimerian trackers or opportunistic scavengers, they returned to the carriage and resumed the final portion of their journey south without further delay.

The road gradually became wider and better maintained, while abandoned hills gave way to farms, roadside shrines, patrol markers, and distant smoke rising from villages that still possessed people willing to remain there. Sieghart spent most of the ride thinking instead of training. Between Chimerians, corrupted cores, hidden magical disciplines, and Seraphina's supposed Ascended associates, his list of unanswered questions had become absurdly large.

Then Seraphina itself finally appeared in the distance, its towers rising above the surrounding landscape while afternoon light reflected from roofs, walls, and several familiar magical structures around the city. Sieghart watched the city approach through the carriage window and felt something unexpectedly close to frustration. He had spent years becoming stronger, yet the purpose behind that strength remained exactly where it started.

He still did not know who ordered the attack on his grandparents' farm, who manufactured the false wanted poster, or which faction had decided a disappointed noble child needed to disappear permanently. Sieghart rarely left Seraphina for guild work unless Mira or Ronan cornered him with something useful, dangerous, educational, or irritating enough that refusing became more troublesome than accepting the assignment anyway. That lifestyle kept him hidden and allowed constant training, but hiding also meant waiting.

Every month spent underground was another month the people responsible for his grandparents' deaths continued living normally. The thought irritated him more as the city grew larger ahead. Sieghart possessed enough magic to destroy monsters, break military formations, and kill an Orc King, yet revenge still remained theoretical. Part of the problem was information.

Strength could not kill people he could not identify, and launching Giant Fireballs at every suspicious noble family would probably create more enemies than answers. The other problem was uncertainty. Sieghart had no reliable measure of how strong the assassins themselves might be, especially if they belonged to the same hidden networks that manipulated nobles, Aura families, or foreign factions. Could he kill them now if he found them? Probably some. Maybe all.

Sieghart disliked depending upon words like probably and maybe whenever the result involved another attempt on his life. If a book existed somewhere containing Meteor Shower, continent splitting lightning, or another reasonably unfair spell, Sieghart suspected his confidence would improve considerably after learning it and testing it properly.

Unfortunately, Mira would probably hide that book behind six restricted doors, several warnings about collateral damage, and another lecture explaining why ten-year-olds were not supposed to summon meteors indoors or otherwise. Sieghart sighed and leaned away from the window. Becoming strong enough to guarantee revenge might be impossible if every new level simply revealed stronger enemies and more complicated forms of magic. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Still, doing nothing was worse. Eventually, he would need to stop treating preparation as an endless destination and begin using the strength he had already built to search actively for answers. That decision could wait until after several days of sleep, proper food, and enough healing to make his body stop reminding him about every Chimerian projectile from the return journey.

The carriage entered Seraphina shortly afterward, passing familiar guards who barely looked at them before waving Ronan through once they recognized the agent beneath accumulated road dust and dried blood. Returning underground felt strange after days spent moving through hostile territory. Lunar Arc's corridors looked almost too clean, quiet, and ordinary compared with stitched bodies, ruined fortresses, and battlefield smoke.

Sieghart followed Ronan toward Mira's office because avoiding the report would only postpone the inevitable, especially when the guild master already knew enough to ask exactly the questions he preferred avoiding. Mira had returned to work completely. Stacks of reports covered her desk, unopened messages occupied two trays, and several sealed documents waited beside a meal she had apparently forgotten existed.

She wrote rapidly while listening to an assistant summarize another problem, signed three papers without looking up, then dismissed the exhausted guild member before finally acknowledging Ronan and Sieghart standing nearby. For once, however, Mira did not look merely tired. Beneath the usual paperwork-induced irritation remained a quiet relief that had not completely disappeared since she recovered her kidnapped relative safely.

Her shoulders were less tense, and the hard concentration around her eyes softened slightly when she looked toward Ronan, as though seeing him reminded her that the rescue had actually succeeded.

"Thank you. Again." Ronan smiled.

"You're welcome. Again." She thanked them again before asking whether anything had happened during the journey back, and Ronan immediately summarized the Chimerian pursuit without adding unnecessary details concerning Sieghart's suspicious collection habits.

"We had company." Mira looked up.

"How much company?"

"Several elite Chimerians. Flying types." Mira listened without interrupting, though her expression hardened when Ronan described five elite Chimerians crossing deeply into human territory and attacking their carriage only hours from Seraphina during the return. She asked several precise questions about their modifications, tracking behavior, ranged abilities, and coordination, recording each answer while already comparing them against whatever intelligence Lunar Arc possessed about those clans.

"They tracked us for hours." Mira's pen stopped.

"That far south?"

"Yes." Ronan mentioned that the pursuers had been destroyed and their remains burned, conveniently leaving out the argument about corrupted cores while Sieghart remained perfectly content with that particular editorial choice. Mira eventually nodded and explained that the pursuit confirmed how valuable the kidnapped child had become to the Chimerian clans after they discovered his inherited ability and potential usefulness to future experiments.

"They truly wanted him." Sieghart folded his arms.

"That was obvious when they started draining his blood." Mira's expression darkened.

"Yes." The boy and his immediate family had already been relocated somewhere outside ordinary guild routes, with enough false records and magical protections that finding them again should become considerably more difficult.

"They won't find him again easily."

"Easily?" Mira looked at Sieghart.

"I don't promise impossible things." That did not mean the danger had ended. Mira expected the Chimerians to keep searching, especially once different clans learned that Seraphina's bloodline might stabilize combinations previously considered impossible for them. Ronan stretched both arms above his head after the report ended, looking increasingly like someone whose body had finally remembered several missed nights of proper sleep and intended to collect them.

"I owe you another one, Ronan." His reward was apparently not money, restricted knowledge, or political influence. Ronan wanted something far more valuable after several days spent following Mira through hostile territory without permission or proper rest.

"I'll put it on your tab." Mira narrowed her eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Consider us even if you don't call me for work for one week." Mira looked at him with resigned irritation, already understanding the request before he finished making it and apparently deciding that arguing would only cost additional energy she no longer possessed.

"Fine." Ronan grinned, accepted the agreement as absolute, and turned toward the door before Mira could add conditions, revisions, exceptions, or another mission disguised beneath gratitude for his assistance that week.

"Excellent. I'm officially unavailable."

"You heard incorrectly." Sieghart followed automatically, already imagining his bed, several unfinished runic projects, Thunder Arrow experiments, and perhaps one introductory alchemy book obtained without explaining exactly why he suddenly wanted it now. His hand had nearly reached the door when Mira spoke again, using the same calm tone she reserved for conversations that immediately made Sieghart regret assuming he could leave easily this time.

"Sieghart." He stopped. Ronan did too.

"You can go, Ronan." Sieghart stopped without turning. Ronan also paused beside the doorway, but Mira told him he could go, leaving absolutely no ambiguity concerning which person still required additional attention inside the office. Ronan looked toward Sieghart with exaggerated sympathy, received a glare in return, then escaped into the corridor before anybody reconsidered whether his promised week without work should begin immediately after all.

"Good luck."

"Leave."

"Already leaving." The door closed behind him. Sieghart remained facing it for another second before slowly turning around and finding Mira watching him over folded hands with an unreadable expression from behind her desk. Apparently, the mission report had ended. Unfortunately, the conversation Sieghart had been hoping to avoid had only just started, and Mira's expression suggested she already knew exactly where to begin.