Chương 29: A Pawn with Infinite Mana

Edric began preparing for the journey immediately. The letter instructed them to report within three days, but reaching the eastern mustering point would consume most of that time even under favorable conditions. He retrieved his enchanted bow from beside the door and carried it to the table. The weapon's dark wood had been polished carefully, while the red runes along its limbs still retained the mana Sieghart had supplied after the first warning about enemy infiltrators.

Several bundles of ordinary arrows followed. Edric examined every shaft, replaced damaged feathers, and checked the iron heads for rust. His methodical movements made the situation feel more serious than the original letter had. Sieghart watched from his chair while Elara stood beside him. She had been holding his hand since Edric confirmed both names on the summons, and her grip had gradually become tighter.

It was as if she believed that refusing to release his fingers could prevent the regional command from taking him. Sieghart didn't complain, even when the pressure became uncomfortable. His grandmother had given him a home when his parents wanted him out of sight. If holding his hand helped her endure the situation, he could survive a few compressed fingers. Edric packed a traveling cloak, blankets, dried food, medicine, spare clothing, and several hunting knives.

He worked without speaking, although his expression revealed that his thoughts were moving much faster than his hands.

"You should stop at the Emberhart estate," Elara said. Edric stopped folding one of the blankets.

"You can speak with Alaric before you leave. He has enough influence to remove Sieg's name from the order." Her tone carried determination, but her hand tightened around Sieghart's again. Elara wasn't confident that the conversation would produce the result she wanted.

"Lord Emberhart commands the border forces," she continued.

"No regional officer would challenge him over one support worker, especially when that worker is his five-year-old son." Edric remained silent. He placed the blanket inside the traveling pack, closed the leather straps, and stared at the official letter resting on the table.

"Elara…"

"What?" Edric's expression became complicated. He looked toward Sieghart before returning his attention to his wife, clearly wishing he could provide a less painful answer.

"Alaric probably knows already." Elara's grip became completely still.

"What do you mean?" Edric lifted the letter and pointed toward the authorization section near the bottom. Beneath the regional commander's seal rested a smaller mark depicting a crimson sword surrounded by black flames. It was the official seal of House Emberhart.

"This request passed through the territorial command before it reached us," Edric said.

"Nothing involving Sieg's name would have been approved without Alaric being informed." Elara took the letter and read the final lines herself. Her face gradually lost color as she recognized the authorization.

"He gave them permission?"

"Most likely."

"He sent Sieg away because he didn't want anything to do with him. Now he permits strangers to take him toward a battlefield?" Edric didn't defend his son-in-law. He had never openly criticized the decision to send Sieghart to the farm, but the anger in his eyes showed exactly what he thought about it.

"We tried to keep Sieg's mana and skills quiet," Edric said.

"We avoided public demonstrations, limited his visits to town, and asked Thorne not to discuss how much equipment he charged."

"That should have been enough."

"It wasn't." Master Thorne's growing supply of fully charged weapons had probably attracted military attention. Every enchanted spear, bow, sword, and defensive tool rented during the border crisis created records. Someone had eventually asked how an old shop filled with outdated equipment suddenly possessed enough energy to support soldiers and hunters. The answer led them to the farm, and to Sieghart.

Even if Master Thorne refused to explain, the administration could compare travel records, payments, and delivery schedules. Secrets became fragile when money and military logistics were involved.

"Alaric has informants throughout his territory," Edric continued.

"He should have received reports about Sieg long before this letter arrived."

"Then why didn't he contact us?"

"Because he didn't need to." The answer hurt Elara more than an accusation would have. Lord Alaric had apparently learned that his discarded son possessed valuable magic and chosen not to visit, write, or ask about his well-being. He had remained silent until the kingdom required Sieghart's power.

"Even if he doesn't want Sieg as his heir, he won't hesitate to use him to protect the kingdom," Edric said. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Sieghart frowned. Until that moment, he hadn't thought deeply about who authorized the summons. His attention had been divided between the danger, the possible opportunities, and the absurdity of sending a five-year-old into military service. Learning that his father had probably approved the order changed the situation.

Alaric hadn't considered Sieghart worthy of training, recognition, or a place inside House Emberhart. Apparently, that didn't prevent the Crimson Sword King from treating his infinite mana as a convenient military resource. It was exactly what Sieghart had feared when he considered developing Healing Magic. The moment his abilities became useful, the same family that abandoned him would suddenly remember that he carried their name. Being used like a pawn was annoying.

More importantly, Sieghart didn't want his father developing the idea that he could continue issuing orders whenever the kingdom needed magical labor. Accepting one summons could establish a pattern difficult to break. However, refusing carried consequences. House Emberhart governed the territory, and the eastern region was genuinely losing ground. People would die if reinforcements failed to arrive.

Sieghart wasn't responsible for solving an entire war, but his mana could keep defensive tools, weapons, and communication devices functioning. Rejecting the summons solely to spite his father might harm people who had never done anything to him. There was also another truth Sieghart didn't say aloud. He wanted to go. Life on the farm had been peaceful, safe, and productive. His grandparents treated him well, his room overflowed with books, and his training improved steadily. It had also become repetitive.

Sieghart studied descriptions of distant cities, foreign societies, dungeon guardians, military Auras, and magical industries without seeing any of them himself. Training against wooden targets and boulders could only prepare him so much. Eventually, he needed to discover how his spells performed beyond carefully controlled conditions. Sieghart had already accepted that becoming stronger required danger.

Infinite mana didn't exempt him from risk, and hiding on the farm forever wouldn't provide enough experience to challenge people like his father. The eastern forces would contain trained Aura users. Observing their movements, techniques, strengths, and limitations could teach Sieghart how to defend himself against them. Aura allowed warriors to cut boulders, move with abnormal speed, and reinforce weapons beyond their natural limits.

If Sieghart wanted independence from House Emberhart, he needed to understand how to counter its greatest source of power. The military camps might also contain enchanters, healers, artificers, and magical tools unavailable in Master Thorne's shop. Charging those devices could expand Mana Transfusion or unlock another Arcane path. If monsters had joined the invading forces, Sieghart might even obtain Black Magic experience.

He didn't intend to rush onto a battlefield searching for enemies, but refusing every opportunity to fight would leave the foundational branch permanently trapped at Level One. Money represented another possibility. Military support work should earn compensation, especially when the worker supplied enormous quantities of mana. If the command expected Sieghart to labor for free because of his surname, they would have an unpleasant conversation.

If others intended to use him, Sieghart would ensure that the exchange benefited him as well. None of those reasons made the journey safe. The eastern region was losing territory, meaning its defensive lines had already failed more than once. Support units could be attacked. Supply routes could be ambushed. A camp considered secure in the morning could become part of the battlefield before nightfall. Sieghart remembered the five pig-men who entered the farm.

Their lack of coordination had allowed him to eliminate them through ambushes, but organized enemies would be far more dangerous. Still, Edric would accompany him. Sieghart possessed Protection, elemental magic, an enchanted bow, Wind propulsion, and enough Mentality to maintain several spells simultaneously. He wasn't helpless. Sieghart squeezed his grandmother's hand.

"We'll be all right." Elara looked down at him. Worry had created deep lines around her eyes, and she appeared close to rejecting the order regardless of the consequences.

"You don't know that, Sieg."

"No. But Grandpa knows how to fight, and they don't want me on the front lines. I'll charge their equipment and stay somewhere protected."

"That is what the letter says."

"I won't take unnecessary risks." That statement required careful wording. Sieghart's definition of unnecessary risk might differ considerably from Elara's, especially if killing a monster offered valuable experience.

"We'll return soon," he continued.

"And in one piece." Edric looked at him with open pride. His grandfather probably saw courage, responsibility, and the willingness to help people threatened by war. Sieghart was also thinking about combat research, magical equipment, military payment, and methods of countering his father's Aura. Explaining those details would weaken the reassuring effect. Elara didn't look comforted. If anything, Sieghart's calm response made her worry more.

A normal five-year-old should have cried, resisted, or failed to understand the danger. Sieghart instead evaluated the situation like an adult and attempted to reassure the people responsible for protecting him. He possessed far too good a head for his age. Elara had noticed that quality years earlier, but she had always been grateful for it. Sieghart rarely wandered into danger accidentally, understood instructions, and recognized consequences other children would ignore.

Near a battlefield, that maturity could keep him alive. He would observe his surroundings, distrust promises of safety, and think before acting. The same maturity might also convince him to accept dangers no child should face. Sieghart understood that people needed help and possessed enough discipline to ignore his fear. Elara knelt and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"You stay with your grandfather."

"I will."

"You don't leave the camp."

"I'll try." She pulled back and stared directly into his eyes.

"You don't leave the camp."

"I won't leave without telling Grandpa." It wasn't the promise she wanted, but it was the most honest version Sieghart could provide. Elara recognized that and reluctantly accepted it. Edric resumed packing. He added additional medicine, another knife, and enough arrows to defend a small fortress. His earlier pride remained visible, but concern had begun to overshadow it. Sieghart returned to his room and opened the wooden chest beneath his bed.

He packed his practice bow, notebook, spare clothes, preserved food, and several books concerning monsters and Aura. He considered leaving his earned silver behind. If military merchants sold rare materials or useful texts, he would regret arriving without money. Sieghart divided his savings, hiding most inside his room and placing a smaller pouch in his traveling bag. The unfinished Firewall training plan rested on his desk. Sieghart folded the page and placed it inside his notebook.

He had intended to develop the spell somewhere safe, far from crops and buildings. The eastern camps might provide empty ground, experienced observers, or immediate reasons to create a wall of fire. That thought wasn't reassuring. By sunset, both traveling packs stood beside the front door. Edric's enchanted bow rested against them, its red runes glowing faintly in the darkening farmhouse. They would leave at dawn. Sieghart had spent years preparing to become strong enough that no one could control his future.

Now his father had moved him toward a war like a piece on a game board. Alaric might consider him a pawn. Sieghart intended to make his own moves.