Chương 3: The Spare Heir

Sieghart's second life started in the worst way possible. Once again, he had disappointed his parents. It was honestly impressive. In his first life, he had needed almost eighteen years to become the family failure. This time, he had accomplished the same thing before he could hold up his own head. If there were achievements for disappointing two different families across two separate worlds, he was probably the first person to unlock the highest rank.

Fortunately, his new parents didn't abandon him in a forest to be raised by wolves. That would have been cruel. That being said, Sieghart occasionally found himself wishing they had. Wolves might have been warmer. His mother visited whenever it was time to feed him, but those moments never felt affectionate. She held him carefully, supported his head, and made certain he drank enough. She performed every necessary task without neglecting him, yet her expression made it clear that something inside her had broken.

It was difficult to describe with a single word. Disappointment was there. Sadness too. Despair completed the mixture. Sieghart had become something of a specialist in identifying negative emotions on other people's faces, especially when he was the cause of them. His first parents had given him plenty of experience. His new mother was quieter than they had been, but that only made her expression harder to ignore. She never blamed him aloud. At least, he didn't think she did.

For the first few months, the language of this world remained little more than a collection of unfamiliar sounds. He couldn't understand her words, but voices carried emotions even when their meanings were lost. Her voice was soft whenever she spoke to him, though it contained the strained gentleness of someone trying very hard not to cry. Sometimes she touched his cheek. Sometimes she simply stared at him. Then she would hand him back to a servant and leave. His father appeared even less frequently.

The red-haired knight came several times during Sieghart's first month, usually still wearing some part of his red-and-black armor. He never stayed long. He would stand beside the cradle, look down at Sieghart with a hard-to-read expression, and then turn away as if there were somewhere else he urgently needed to be. Perhaps there was. Judging by his armor, sword, and absurd quantity of muscle, the man probably spent his days defending the kingdom, slaying monsters, or challenging mountains to fistfights.

Sieghart had begun to suspect that this family valued physical strength above everything else. The old man's examination had most likely revealed that Sieghart lacked whatever trait his parents considered essential. Maybe his bones were weak. Maybe his body couldn't hold some type of energy. Whatever the problem was, it had been serious enough to make a legendary-looking knight and an equally athletic woman react as if their child had been sentenced to an early death.

Perhaps that was why Sieghart's physical attributes remained so low. Name: Sieghart Race: Human Age: 0 Level: 1 Health: 20/20 Mana: ∞/∞ Stamina: 20/20 Strength: 1 Endurance: 1 Vitality: 2 Dexterity: 1 Magic: 1 Mentality: 12 Resistance: 2 Perception: 1 Class: None Skills: None His Health and Stamina increased slightly as his body developed, but his primary attributes refused to change. He didn't know whether that was normal.

Without another baby's status screen for comparison, he had no way to determine if he was truly weak or merely impatient. In his defense, three months was a long time when he spent most of it lying down. Whenever his mother wasn't around, servants looked after him. There were four who rotated through the room, though a stern brown-haired woman named Marta handled most of his care. Sieghart learned her name because the others repeated it frequently.

The servants fed him when necessary, washed him, changed his clothes, and made certain his cradle remained clean. They never harmed him and rarely allowed him to cry for long. From a practical standpoint, they performed their duties well. Emotionally, they might as well have been machines. They didn't play with him. They didn't smile when he noticed them. They spoke only when necessary and handled him with the detached efficiency of workers maintaining a particularly inconvenient piece of furniture.

At least furniture had finally decided to care for him instead of killing him. Progress. Sieghart couldn't blame the servants entirely. They probably knew what the old man had discovered. If he was the defective child of an important family, becoming too attached to him might have been considered unwise. It was also possible that they simply didn't like babies. Sieghart could understand that. He had spent several months being one and wasn't impressed with the experience.

His body demanded food without considering the time. His hands refused to obey precise instructions. His legs possessed all the power and coordination of damp noodles. Even controlling his bowels remained beyond his authority. The status screen was the only interesting part of his new existence. More specifically, the infinite symbol beside his mana. Having infinite mana should have been a blessing. It was the kind of advantage that protagonists wished to obtain.

Ordinary mages probably spent their lives improving the size of their mana pools, reducing the cost of spells, or drinking suspicious potions during battle. Sieghart would never face those limitations. Assuming he could actually cast something. He began experimenting as soon as he gained enough control to remain awake for more than a few minutes. At first, he attempted to feel the mana inside him. That seemed like the obvious place to start.

Every fantasy story described magical energy as warmth, a current, a spark, or a mysterious force residing near the heart. Sieghard closed his eyes and searched his body for anything unusual. He found hunger. He found the urge to sleep. He found several sensations that warned him a servant would soon need to change his clothes. Mana remained absent. Perhaps he needed to command it.

"Mana, move." Nothing happened.

"Gather in my hand." His fingers twitched, but that was probably an ordinary muscle spasm.

"Fireball." He burped. Sieghart decided not to count that as progress. He tried imagining a flame floating above his palm. When that failed, he imagined water, wind, lightning, ice, and light. He pictured the infinity symbol turning into a stream of energy and flowing through his body. Nothing worked. Maybe his body needed a specific movement. He stretched one tiny arm toward the ceiling and concentrated until his face turned red.

Marta noticed, assumed he was struggling with something entirely different, and changed him. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. The humiliation was almost enough to kill him a second time. By six months old, Sieghart could sit upright with support and crawl short distances. His Strength finally increased to two, though the achievement felt less impressive after he realized it had taken half a year to double an attribute that began at one.

His magical experiments produced no results. He tried meditation. He tried controlled breathing. He tried focusing on his heartbeat. He repeated every magical word he had managed to identify from the servants' conversations, though most were probably ordinary words unrelated to spellcasting. At one point, he spent an entire afternoon repeating what he believed meant fire. Marta eventually placed a wooden horse in front of him. Apparently, the word meant toy.

That discovery didn't help his magic, but it expanded his vocabulary. Sieghard also tried forcing the status screen to respond. He focused on his mana, imagined decreasing it by one point, and silently demanded that the system provide instructions. The interface remained professionally unhelpful. Mana: Infinite Your mana has no measurable limit.

"Yes, I understand that part." It was like receiving an unlimited bank account without knowing the password, the location of the bank, or what money looked like. An infinite resource was only valuable if he could use it. At nine months, Sieghart began pulling himself upright by holding the furniture. He had no intention of allowing another shelf to defeat him, so he treated every cabinet with appropriate suspicion.

The furniture here appeared sturdier than the library shelves, but he had learned not to underestimate a quiet enemy. He continued testing his mana every day. Still nothing. On the first anniversary of his birth, the status screen changed again. Health: 20/20 Mana: ∞/∞ Stamina: 20/20 Strength: 2 Endurance: 1 Vitality: 2 Dexterity: 1 Magic: 1 Mentality: 12 Resistance: 2 Perception: 1 Class: None Skills: None His Magic remained at one. His Skills section remained painfully empty.

One entire year of concentration, experimentation, and occasionally glaring at his hands had produced nothing. Sieghart sat in his cradle and considered the possibility that being useless was not a temporary condition but his fate. Perhaps he had been reincarnated for the entertainment of some higher being. Whoever controlled the process had given him infinite mana, removed his ability to use it, and then placed him in a family that valued strength. It was an elaborate joke.

At least someone was enjoying his existence.

"Maybe my true power is wasting oxygen." His lungs worked perfectly, after all. That might have been his hidden specialization. He could become the legendary Air Consumer. At higher levels, perhaps he would learn Advanced Breathing. After years of dedicated practice, he might unlock Grandmaster Exhalation and defeat his enemies by making the room slightly stuffier. Sieghart laughed to himself. It came out as a series of cheerful noises, causing Marta to glance at him.

Her expression didn't change, but she moved the wooden horse closer as though rewarding him for displaying normal infant behavior. He grabbed the toy and examined it. The situation was frustrating, but perhaps he had been approaching it incorrectly. How was he supposed to control something he had never possessed in his first life? It would be like suddenly discovering that he had a tail and being ordered to move it.

Other people born with tails might control theirs instinctively because their brains and bodies developed together. Someone who gained one later would need instructions, practice, or both. Mana might function the same way. Sieghart's adult memories gave him better reasoning than an ordinary child, but they didn't provide experience with magic. He could visualize fire all day, yet imagination alone couldn't teach him how to connect his thoughts to an unfamiliar force. He needed someone to show him.

Unfortunately, no one considered him worth teaching. The old muscular mage had not returned. His parents rarely appeared. The servants didn't use magic in front of him, assuming they could use it at all. Sieghart was trapped with an infinite supply of something he couldn't feel, see, or move. It was still better than possessing no mana. Probably. As the months passed, he began understanding more of the local language.

His young brain absorbed sounds quickly, and his memories allowed him to study patterns deliberately. He listened whenever the servants spoke, connected repeated words with objects or actions, and practiced forming the sounds when he was alone. He made certain not to learn too quickly. A one-year-old suddenly speaking in complete sentences would attract attention, and attention had rarely improved his life. He used simple words around the servants while hiding how much he truly understood.

That decision allowed him to hear things no one would have said in front of an older child. They called his father Lord Alaric. His mother was Lady Evelyne. The old man who examined him was Master Oswin. Sieghart was the first son of House Emberhart. That information explained the armor, the servants, and the large estate. His family appeared to hold significant status, though he didn't yet understand whether his father was a noble, a military commander, or both.

More importantly, Sieghart finally learned what was wrong with him.

"His channels never formed," one of the younger servants whispered while folding clothes. Marta gave her a sharp look.

"Lower your voice."

"He can't understand us."

"That does not mean you should speak carelessly." The younger servant glanced toward the cradle. Sieghard was lying on his back, apparently fascinated by his own fingers. He continued pretending.

"I only meant that it's unfortunate," she said.

"Lord Alaric is one of the strongest Aura Knights in the province. Lady Evelyne comes from an entire line of warriors. No one expected their first child to be born without channels." Without channels. Sieghard stored the phrase away. That was presumably what Master Oswin had examined. His body lacked whatever internal pathways people used to control mana, or perhaps another form of energy called aura. The younger servant continued in a softer voice.

"Do you think the next child will be the same?" Marta's hands stopped. For a moment, neither woman spoke. Sieghard lowered his fingers slightly. The next child?

"You should not repeat rumors," Marta said.

"So it's true?"

"That is not what I said."

"But Lady Evelyne has been sick in the mornings, and the physician visited twice this month. Everyone knows what that means." Marta resumed folding the clothes.

"If the lady has an announcement to make, we will hear it from her." The conversation ended there, but Sieghard had already understood enough. His mother was pregnant again. That explained why she had stopped feeding him herself. It also explained why she had appeared even less frequently during the last few months. House Emberhart was preparing for another child. A replacement. Sieghart looked at the infinity symbol on his status screen. He should have felt angry. Instead, he mostly felt tired.

His parents needed an heir who could inherit their abilities and maintain the family's position. Sieghart didn't know enough about this world to judge them fairly. If strength determines status and survival, then having a son incapable of using aura might be more than a personal disappointment. It might threaten the entire house. That didn't make their treatment pleasant, but at least it gave the situation logic. One week later, the rumor was effectively confirmed. Marta woke Sieghart earlier than usual.

She washed him, dressed him in thick traveling clothes, and carried him through parts of the estate he had never seen. The mansion was larger than he imagined. Tall windows lined stone corridors decorated with banners bearing the image of a black lion surrounded by red flames. Armored guards stood beside several doors, while servants moved aside whenever Marta approached with him. No one explained where they were going. They left through a side entrance.

A closed carriage waited in the courtyard, guarded by two mounted soldiers. Both wore dark armor marked with the same burning lion. One was a broad man with a shaved head, while the other was a younger woman carrying a spear across her back. Neither of Sieghart's parents was present. That seemed promising. Marta climbed into the carriage with him. A servant secured several bags behind the seats before closing the door. Moments later, the vehicle began to move.

Sieghart looked through the small window as the mansion slowly receded. So this was it. His mother was pregnant with a new potential heir, and the defective first son was being quietly removed from the main estate. He couldn't say he was surprised. The only question was where they intended to take him. Perhaps House Emberhart owned another residence in the countryside. Perhaps he was being sent to live with distant relatives. Perhaps there was a special institution for children who lacked aura channels.

Or perhaps they were taking him into the wilderness to complete the wolf plan after all. Sieghart glanced at Marta. She sat across from him with her hands folded over her lap, displaying the same emotionless expression she wore every day. Nothing about her suggested that she intended to sacrifice him, but he had never met a professional child sacrificer. Maybe emotional control was part of the job. At least the two guards were unnecessary if the destination was a cliff. He chose to take that as a positive sign.

The carriage passed through enormous iron gates and entered a road bordered by open fields. Sieghard caught his first clear glimpse of the world outside the estate. In the distance, mountains rose beneath a pale-blue sky. Farmers worked among rows of unfamiliar golden plants, and armored riders traveled along the road carrying swords, axes, and spears. Farther away, something enormous flew between the clouds. Sieghart pressed both hands against the window.

For the first time since his reincarnation, curiosity pushed aside his disappointment. Whatever waited beyond the estate, it was new. If he was being moved somewhere people wouldn't look at him as a failure, he welcomed it. He had spent enough time surrounded by silent servants and parents who could barely stand to look at him. A smaller home would be fine. A distant village would be fine. Even wolves remained negotiable, provided they offered basic magical instruction.

Sieghart leaned against the side of the carriage and watched House Emberhart disappear behind the hills. His second family was sending him away. Strangely, that felt less like a punishment and more like the first real opportunity of his new life.