Chương 19: Ashes and Honest Work

Killing the monsters had been the easy part. Disposing of five large bodies without waking anyone proved considerably more troublesome. Sieghart first dragged the corpses toward the far side of the farm. He didn't want to burn them near the crops, where the heat might destroy part of the harvest or leave a smell that lingered until morning. He tried pulling the smallest creature by one leg. It barely moved. Sieghart possessed the mind of an adult, but his body remained that of a four-year-old.

Five points in Strength helped him more than an ordinary child, yet they didn't make dragging a creature several times his weight practical. He could use Wind Magic to push the bodies, but a powerful gust might damage the crops or create enough noise to wake someone. Earth Magic seemed safer. Sieghart gathered loose soil beneath the first corpse. He packed the earth into a flat layer, then moved that layer forward while keeping the body on top of it. The corpse slid across the ground. Sieghart stopped and stared.

That had been much easier than expected. Instead of using Earth Magic to manipulate the weight directly, he only needed to move the sand beneath it. The principle was similar to pulling something on a sled, except the sled formed continuously beneath the body. Sieghart gathered more soil. He extended the moving layer beneath two corpses and pushed them through the damaged rows. The spell required concentration, but his sixteen points in Magic provided more than enough force. He added the others.

Soon, all five bodies were traveling across the farm atop a shifting bed of sand. Sieghart followed behind them, guiding the platform and repairing the shallow path it left. The sight would have been horrifying to anyone watching: five burned pig-men gliding through the fields while a crimson-haired child walked behind them. Fortunately, the night provided no audience. Sieghart studied the moving sand. If it could carry the monsters, it could carry him. Perhaps flight didn't require Wind Magic.

He could stand on a platform of compressed earth and move it through the air. The problem would be lifting both the platform and his weight without support from the ground. Sand Control worked best when connected to existing soil, so he might only be able to glide across the surface. That was still useful. A moving platform could carry him over rough terrain, move heavy objects, and allow him to fight without relying on the speed of his short legs. Actual flight might become possible once his Earth Magic improved.

Sieghart added the idea to his mental list of future experiments. First, he needed to remove several bodies before his grandparents woke for breakfast. He transported the monsters beyond the cultivated fields to an empty patch of ground near the northern fence. No crops grew there, and the nearest building stood far enough away that a controlled fire wouldn't threaten it. Sieghart pushed the bodies together.

The weapons and pieces of armor wouldn't burn, so he removed what he could without touching the corpses more than necessary. He placed the metal in a separate hole and covered it with soil. Examining everything might reveal useful materials, but that could wait until daylight and several baths. The pale blue stone went into his pocket. It appeared to be a crude magical light rather than a monster core. The energy inside had weakened overnight but hadn't disappeared. Sieghart finally turned toward the bodies.

Cremation required heat. A great deal of it. Ordinary fire would take hours and produce smoke visible from across the farm. Sieghart needed to finish before dawn, so he created a ring of earth around the corpses to contain the flames. Then he summoned Fireball. The first spell struck the center of the pile. flames spread across clothing, hair, and exposed flesh. The smell arrived almost immediately. Sieghart nearly stepped backward. He used Wind Magic to create a rotating current around the fire.

The wind prevented smoke and odor from spreading toward the farmhouse while feeding oxygen into the flames. The fire grew hotter. Sieghart launched another fireball. Then another. He didn't need to conceal his magic from the dead. flames consumed the corpses while the controlled wind functioned like the walls of a furnace. Sieghart maintained the air current, directing heat inward and smoke upward before dispersing it into the night. The process still took time.

Living bodies contained a great deal of water, and monster bodies were no exception. Flesh burned poorly until enough moisture evaporated. Sieghart compensated with more fire. Infinite mana made patience optional. Whenever the flames weakened, he added another spell. He increased the temperature until bones cracked and the remaining flesh turned to ash. By the time the sky began to brighten, very little remained. Sieghart used Sand Control to crush the most recognizable fragments.

He gathered the ashes, moved them into a deep hole, and covered everything with several layers of compacted earth. No grave marker. No evidence. Only a patch of disturbed ground remained. Sieghart returned to the damaged field before going inside. He used Water Creation to wash blood and soot from the plants, then moved soil over the scorched areas. The broken crops couldn't be repaired, but he arranged them to resemble damage caused by animals or strong wind. The narrative has been taken without permission.

Report any sightings. It wasn't a perfect deception. It only needed to survive a casual glance. Sieghart climbed back through his bedroom window shortly before sunrise. He used wind to slow his ascent poorly, struck the window frame with one shoulder, and almost fell backward. Protection prevented an injury. His bed had never looked more inviting. Sieghart collapsed onto it without changing his clothes. He slept for less than two hours. Heavy knocking woke him. Sieghart opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

His body felt as though someone had filled it with wet sand. His mana remained infinite, but his mind had spent most of the night fighting, moving bodies, maintaining wind, and cremating monsters. Infinite mana continued to be extremely unfair about the need for sleep. Another knock reached him from downstairs. Sieghart climbed out of bed and changed into clean clothes. By the time he reached the dining room, his grandparents were already seated. Elara placed a bowl of porridge in front of him.

"You look tired."

"Studied late." That was also true. Technically. Sieghart began eating while struggling to keep his eyes open. His grandparents exchanged a concerned look, but the knocking interrupted them before they could ask more questions. Edric stood and opened the door. The same rider from the previous morning waited outside. His horse looked less exhausted this time, but mud and dried blood marked the messenger's armor. A fresh bandage circled his left forearm.

"Some stragglers slipped past the defensive lines," the rider said.

"They were seen in this area during the night." Sieghart lifted a spoonful of porridge. He kept his attention on the bowl.

"A few villages were attacked," the rider continued.

"Two farms were damaged, and several people are missing. Have you seen anything unusual?"

"Nothing so far," Edric replied.

"Things have been quiet here," Elara added. Sieghart placed the spoon in his mouth. He didn't need to pretend to be an innocent child. His exhaustion made him look suitably harmless. No reasonable person would suspect that the sleepy four-year-old eating porridge had spent the night incinerating five invaders. The rider glanced past Edric. His gaze settled on Sieghart. The look lasted longer than it should have. Sieghart continued chewing. Did the man know something?

Perhaps he had seen the dispersed smoke from a distance. Maybe someone reported unusual lights near the farm. The burned crops could still attract attention if anyone searched the fields closely. The rider's expression didn't show suspicion. It looked more complicated. He opened his mouth as though intending to say something, then reconsidered.

"Keep everyone close to the house after sunset," he told Edric.

"We don't know how many escaped."

"We'll be prepared," Edric said. The rider nodded, mounted his horse, and left without another word. Sieghart watched him through the doorway. Weirdo. Perhaps the man had been thinking about House Emberhart. Lord Alaric commanded the border, yet no soldiers had been sent to protect his firstborn son or the parents of his wife. An ordinary messenger might find that cold. Alternatively, he might think Sieghart's death would be convenient.

The defective firstborn remained an embarrassment attached to House Emberhart's reputation. Noble families cared about appearances, and the people who followed Lord Alaric might share his disappointment. If monsters killed Sieghart, the succession problem would disappear naturally. No one would need to send him away again. Sieghart disliked that possibility, but he couldn't dismiss it completely. He knew nothing about the messenger or the politics surrounding his family.

His tired mind was probably making the situation worse. The rider might simply have felt sorry for him. That thought wasn't much better. Sieghart finished his porridge while Elara and Edric discussed precautions. Several workers would remain close to the house at night. Livestock would be secured before sunset, and Edric planned to establish watch positions around the farm. Those measures would help. They wouldn't solve Sieghart's financial problem.

The magical light stone in his pocket had reminded him how little he knew about magical tools. He needed books on enchantment, monster materials, and military history. One book a month was too slow. Sieghart needed income. He looked through the window at the fields. Their farm already produced more than before. Expanding it would require additional workers, storage, and negotiations with buyers. Offering his magical assistance to other farms might be simpler.

Sieghart could water fields in a fraction of the usual time. He could soften soil, clear stones, and support harvesting without consuming magical stones. Nearby farmers would save labor and resources. He wouldn't need to reveal his infinite mana. They only needed to know that he possessed an unusually large reserve and useful spells. That secret was already becoming impossible to maintain within the local area. Sieghart waited until his grandparents finished speaking.

"Are there other farms nearby?" Edric looked at him.

"Several. Why?"

"Do they use magic?"

"Some owners possess agricultural Auras. Others hire workers or use magical tools." Sieghart nodded.

"Could I help them?" Elara tilted her head.

"Help them with what?"

"Watering. Moving soil. Clearing fields." His grandparents stared.

"In exchange for money," Sieghart added. The silence became deeper. Elara and Edric looked at each other, repeating the same wordless conversation they seemed to have whenever Sieghart proposed something unexpected. Their grandson was four years old. He was also the firstborn son of a border lord. Now he wanted to hire himself out as a farmhand. Edric slowly sat across from him.

"Sieg," he said, "do you understand that children your age usually ask for toys?"

"I want books."

"That does not make this more normal." Sieghart considered the statement.

"It makes it practical." Edric covered his face with one hand. Elara appeared caught between concern and laughter. Sieghart waited patiently. The Emberhart family might consider magical labor beneath its firstborn son. That was their problem. Books cost money, and honest work paid better than noble pride.