Chương 16: Monsters Wearing Human Skin

Sieghart waited for an answer. His grandparents continued looking at each other, silently deciding how much a four-year-old should be allowed to hear. Elara appeared ready to offer him a gentle explanation. Edric looked as though he preferred to tell him the truth and accept the consequences afterward. Edric eventually returned to the table. He placed his enchanted bow against the wall, close enough to reach without standing, and sat across from Sieghart.

The red markings along the limbs faded, but the crimson stone above the grip continued glowing faintly. Elara closed the front curtains before joining them.

"A long time ago," Edric began, "this world was mostly at peace." Sieghart remained quiet. That sounded like the beginning of a children's story, which usually meant something terrible would happen before the third page.

"People belonged to different tribes and lived under different rulers," Elara continued.

"There were disagreements, but most lands traded with one another. Travelers could cross the borders safely, and families from different regions sometimes lived together."

"Everyone possessed Aura," Edric said.

"Some were more talented than others, but that was natural. Aura made people's lives easier." He gestured toward the window.

"A farmer could improve his fields. A smith could shape stronger tools. Hunters protected villages, and healers treated sickness. Not every Aura was powerful, but every honest talent had value." Sieghart thought about the book he had read. Aura determined much of a person's path in this world, but raw combat power wasn't its only measure. His grandparents possessed abilities that helped maintain the farm. Their magic and practical auras allowed them to produce enough food to support people who never touched a plow.

That was valuable. It simply wasn't dramatic enough for those obsessed with strength.

"Some people weren't satisfied," Edric continued.

"They saw others born with stronger Auras and believed the difference was unfair. They wanted more power than their natural gifts could provide."

"That part is understandable," Sieghart said. His grandparents looked at him. He realized he had spoken aloud. Wanting to become stronger wasn't inherently evil. Sieghart himself trained every day because he refused to accept the limitations imposed upon him at birth. Master Oswin declared him incapable of becoming a warrior. His parents sent him away. If Sieghart had accepted what nature supposedly granted him, he would still believe he was useless. Edric considered his response instead of reprimanding him.

"Wanting to improve isn't wrong," he said.

"Training an Aura is honorable. Learning new skills is honorable. The problem is what those people were willing to do for power."

"What did they do?" Sieghart asked. Elara's expression tightened.

"They began experimenting with monsters."

"Monster bodies carry mana," Edric explained.

"Their cores contain even more. Most people use those materials to create tools, weapons, and medicine. The power is processed first so that it can be handled safely." Some of Sieghart's books had mentioned monster cores, though only briefly. The blue stones used in magical tools might have been refined cores rather than ordinary minerals. Edric leaned forward.

"Those people didn't want to use the power safely. They wanted to place it directly inside themselves."

"They ate the flesh of monsters," Elara said.

"Some swallowed their cores. Others performed rituals to steal Aura from the living and the dead."

"There were worse methods." Edric glanced at Sieghart before stopping himself.

"Things you don't need to hear about yet." Sieghart could imagine enough. Human history on Earth contained plenty of examples of people performing horrible experiments in pursuit of power, knowledge, or some imaginary greater good. Adding real magic to those ambitions could only make the results worse.

"Did it work?" he asked. Neither grandparent answered immediately. Then Edric nodded.

"For some of them." Sieghart had expected that answer. If all the experiments had failed, there wouldn't have been a war. People would remember the practitioners as foolish criminals rather than a threat capable of attacking the border centuries later.

"They obtained power," Edric said.

"A great deal of it. Some developed strength beyond anything their original Auras could have achieved. They gained the traits of monsters, learned unnatural abilities, and extended their lives."

"But the power changed them," Elara added.

"Some lost their minds. Some changed physically until there was nothing human left. Others kept their appearance but became something worse beneath it." Sieghart looked from one grandparent to the other.

"Worse than monsters?" Edric's expression hardened.

"A monster kills because it is hungry, frightened, or defending its territory. Those people knew what they were doing. They chose it." This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. That was a simple distinction, but an important one. An animal didn't pretend that murder served a higher purpose. It didn't build laboratories, perform rituals, or convince followers that sacrificing others was necessary.

Humans could do all of that while continuing to call themselves righteous.

"Those who survived began to despise people like us," Elara said.

"People who kept their natural Auras and followed the old traditions."

"Why?"

"They believe gratitude is weakness," Edric replied.

"They believe anyone who refuses their methods deserves to be ruled by those strong enough to take power." Sieghart leaned back. That part was less surprising. Some people couldn't become stronger without deciding that everyone weaker deserved contempt. It made their victories feel more important. Edric gestured toward the fields again.

"They look at a farmer's Aura and see weakness. I may not be able to move a giant boulder or cut through a fortress wall, but our farm produces enough food to feed hundreds of people." Sieghart maintained a neutral expression. The mention of giant boulders felt slightly personal. Fortunately, Edric didn't glance toward the edge of the farm.

"We use our gifts to build something," Elara said.

"They use theirs to control and destroy."

"What happened to them?"

"War," Edric answered. The single word changed the atmosphere in the room. Sieghart glanced toward the closed window. The farm remained peaceful outside, but workers had already begun moving livestock closer to the barns. Several men were inspecting fences and gathering tools that might serve as weapons.

"The old tribes and kingdoms united against them," Edric continued.

"The war lasted for many years. Entire regions were destroyed before the corrupted armies were driven beyond the borders."

"Were they all killed?"

"No." Edric's expression said that people had tried.

"Some fled into wild lands where ordinary armies couldn't follow. Others hid among distant tribes or crossed the sea. Many of their groups eventually fought each other." That was also predictable. People willing to betray everyone for power rarely became reliable allies. Once they ran out of common enemies, they would turn on one another.

"For a long time, things became calmer," Elara said.

"There were occasional attacks, but nothing like the old war."

"Until now," Sieghart said. His grandparents exchanged another look. Edric nodded.

"Reports say new groups are gathering. Some follow the ancient practices, while others have created different methods. They have been recruiting exiles, criminals, and tribes driven from their homes."

"And monsters," Elara added.

"Some of them can control the creatures they create." The warning from the rider made more sense now. This wasn't simply an army from a neighboring kingdom trying to seize territory. The invaders included magically altered humans and monsters capable of slipping through defensive lines. No wonder his grandparents hesitated to explain.

"How many are there?" Sieghart asked.

"We don't know," Edric said.

"But you don't need to worry." That sentence rarely improved a situation.

"Your father is strong," Elara assured him.

"And House Emberhart has protected this border for hundreds of years." Edric rested one hand on the enchanted bow.

"Your family has never allowed an invading army to take this territory. They won't begin now." Sieghart nodded. He didn't ask more questions. Not because his grandparents' confidence reassured him completely, but because they clearly lacked detailed information. Pressing them would only make them more concerned about frightening him. He needed another book. The general histories in his room described old wars through dates, famous battles, and heroic speeches.

They rarely explained the forbidden practices used by the enemy. That information might appear in specialized military records, books on monsters, or banned histories. Finding those volumes would be difficult. Purchasing them would be harder. Books were expensive. Sieghart's grandparents already bought him one every month. Asking them to spend even more, especially while they prepared for a possible attack, would be selfish. He needed his own money. That created a new problem.

A four-year-old had limited employment opportunities. He could hardly walk into town and offer his services as an unlimited magical water source. That would attract attention within minutes. People would ask about his family, his Aura, and how a child maintained spells for hours. Expanding his grandparents' farm offered a safer option. More cultivated land meant more crops. Sieghart could water and tend the additional fields without increasing labor costs as much as an ordinary farm would require.

The plan wasn't as simple as producing more food. They needed seeds. Workers had to plant and harvest everything. More crops required additional storage and buyers. If Sieghart doubled production without ensuring that merchants wanted the surplus, half the harvest might rot before it could be sold. He wrote the problems in a notebook that afternoon. Possible ways to earn money: Expand the cultivated fields. Improve the yield of existing crops. Grow valuable magical plants.

Reduce the cost of magical stones and tools. Sell magical services without revealing mana capacity. Create something useful with Earth, Water, Fire, or Wind Magic. The fourth possibility interested him. If his mana could replace the blue stones used by magical tools, he might lower the farm's expenses considerably. Perhaps he could even recharge depleted stones. He didn't know whether that was possible. Another future experiment.

That night, Sieghart continued considering his options while performing a handstand in his room. The exercise wasn't related to farming. At least, not directly. Sieghart had read about Aura Knights capable of crossing a battlefield in seconds. His Fireball could strike from one hundred meters, but maintaining that distance would be difficult if he couldn't move quickly. Wind Magic offered a possible solution. He balanced against the wall with both hands on the floor and his feet raised above his head.

Protection covered his arms, reducing the strain on his wrists. Once his balance stabilized, he focused on freedom and movement. Breeze formed beneath his palms. Sieghart compressed the air and released it downward. The blast pushed against the floor. His hands lifted. For one glorious moment, Sieghart's entire body moved forward. Then he traveled approximately one centimeter and collapsed sideways onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling.

"Progress." He returned to the handstand and tried again. The goal was simple. If he could fire a strong enough blast from his palms, he could launch himself away from danger. Eventually, he might use controlled streams of wind beneath his feet and hands to move through the air. His current spell lacked the force. Even with sixteen points in Magic, Breeze had been created as a gentle current rather than a propulsion spell.

He would need to compress the wind, increase its speed, and perhaps unlock an entirely new technique. Sieghart pushed again. This time, he moved slightly farther before landing headfirst on the mattress. Protection absorbed part of the impact. His dignity handled the rest. He continued until his arms became tired. Each attempt improved his control by a tiny amount, though no notification appeared. That was fine. One centimeter became two. Two would eventually become ten.

Given enough time, ten centimeters could become ten meters. Sieghart lowered his feet and sat on the bed. His thoughts returned to the warning. Humans who consumed monsters. People who performed rituals for power. Creatures wearing human skin. He looked toward the dark window, beyond which the farm lay quiet beneath the night sky.

"Humans worse than monsters," Sieghart muttered. Why wasn't he surprised?