Infinite Mana - Chapter 155: Somewhere Worth Returning To (Thank you for your support, Tanner Andrew!) (Patreon)

The following morning, Sieghart parked his newly modified carriage outside Lunar Arc and spent several hours carrying supplies from the basement, gradually transforming the empty cargo compartment into something resembling a traveling workshop, library, bedroom, and merchant stall combined.

Books occupied one reinforced cabinet, while runic tools, spare materials, clothes, food, water containers, camping equipment, and unfinished merchandise filled carefully labeled compartments. Sieghart had even installed restraints to keep everything from becoming projectiles whenever the carriage stopped suddenly.

Mira and Ronan watched from nearby while Sieghart carried another box outside, neither offering assistance after realizing he had already organized everything according to a system only he completely understood.

Ronan leaned against the carriage and examined the growing collection inside, particularly the books, before looking toward Sieghart with obvious amusement at how quickly his lifestyle had changed.

“You really did a complete one-eighty, kid.”

Sieghart placed the box beneath his workbench.

“What?”

“You spent weeks underground refusing to leave unless someone dragged you out. Now you suddenly decide you’re traveling around the country.”

Sieghart closed the compartment and checked the latch twice, making sure the mechanism would survive uneven roads before turning toward Ronan with the same expression he used whenever someone asked something unnecessarily personal.

“I felt like expanding my horizons.”

Ronan raised one eyebrow.

“And?”

“Learning more about the world for a while.”

Sieghart looked toward the carriage.

“And making money.”

Mira had remained quiet during the exchange, but that final explanation made her study Sieghart more carefully, as though comparing the statement against the ten-year-old body standing in front of her.

“That isn’t something a ten-year-old usually says.”

Sieghart ignored the observation completely, partly because answering would create questions about his previous life and partly because pretending to understand normal ten-year-olds had never become particularly convincing for him.

He walked toward the final crate waiting beside Lunar Arc’s entrance, checked the contents, then carried it toward the carriage without responding to Mira’s increasingly suspicious expression.

“At least you can finally use the basement to store trash again.”

Mira sighed.

“It will stay clean.”

Sieghart stopped beside the carriage.

“And open for you.”

Mira’s expression softened slightly as she continued, losing some of the guild master’s usual tired authority and sounding considerably more personal than Sieghart expected from the conversation.

“Everyone needs someone to return to.”

Sieghart remained still for several seconds, one hand resting against the crate while he considered the words. They sounded simple, reasonable, and annoyingly difficult to dismiss through sarcasm without feeling deliberately unpleasant.

Part of him liked the idea more than expected. Having somewhere familiar waiting behind him made leaving considerably easier, especially after years when losing his grandparents had made the word home feel temporary. Unfortunately, Sieghart’s suspicious mind quickly added several alternative interpretations. Mira might genuinely care while simultaneously wanting him to return often enough that she could confirm he had not become corrupted, kidnapped, manipulated, or catastrophically experimental.

She had already discovered his mana changed whenever he absorbed corrupted cores, meaning periodic visits would conveniently allow her to examine whatever new abnormalities Sieghart collected while traveling beyond her supervision. There was also the possibility she simply wanted reassurance that he had not accidentally started another border war, created forbidden magical life, or discovered some new spell capable of damaging an entire city.

Sieghart considered all those possibilities and decided they could coexist perfectly well. People rarely possessed one motivation, and Mira could care about him while also recognizing that unsupervised Sieghart represented a legitimate administrative concern.

“I might visit once a year.”

Mira blinked.

“So don’t wait around.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

Sieghart ignored her and climbed onto the driver’s seat, setting both hands against the mana contacts built around the steering mechanism before checking that every compartment behind him remained properly secured.

The engine responded immediately as mana traveled through the runic channels beneath his palms. Fire Runes activated inside the pressure chambers, followed by the rhythmic mechanical movement of pistons and gears. Ronan stepped away from the carriage when the wheels started turning, apparently remembering Sieghart’s first test had nearly introduced the vehicle to a workshop wall at considerable speed.

Sieghart looked toward both of them.

“See ya.”

Mira opened her mouth.

“Thanks for looking after me.”

Neither Mira nor Ronan had enough time to answer before Sieghart increased the mana slightly, causing the carriage to roll forward and accelerate smoothly toward Seraphina’s main road. Ronan lifted one hand halfway, then slowly lowered it after realizing Sieghart had already turned the corner without giving either of them an opportunity to return the farewell.

For several seconds, Mira and Ronan remained standing outside Lunar Arc, watching the empty street where the strange horseless carriage had disappeared among ordinary wagons and early morning travelers.

“He could have waited five seconds.”

Ronan glanced toward Mira.

“That would have made it emotional.”

“You say that like emotions are poisonous.”

“For him? Probably.”

Mira folded her arms and continued staring toward the road, remembering several temporary changes in Sieghart’s mana and the corrupted powers that had apparently accompanied each disappearance from her sight.

His decision to travel worried her considerably more than she had allowed him to see. Lunar Arc offered protection, information, allies, and enough familiar people to notice when Sieghart started behaving differently. Outside Seraphina, nobody would recognize the difference between ordinary curiosity and magical contamination until Sieghart had already crossed whatever line he normally would have stopped before reaching.

Ronan eventually pushed away from the wall and stood beside Mira, his expression losing the joking quality he usually maintained whenever Sieghart was close enough to hear him.

“You think letting him go was a mistake?”

Mira remained silent before answering. Keeping Sieghart nearby would certainly make observation easier, but observation and control had never been the same thing with someone who disliked both.

“If I tried stopping him, he would leave anyway.”

“Probably through a window.”

“Or a wall.”

Ronan nodded thoughtfully.

“He does like making new walls afterward.”

Mira almost smiled, then returned to the larger problem. Sieghart possessed enough independence, money, disguises, magic, and confidence that attempting to restrict his movement would only teach him how to disappear more effectively. That was precisely why she had chosen not to argue. Freedom freely given preserved trust, while freedom taken after conflict would transform Lunar Arc from a home into another institution attempting to control him.

“He needs this.”

Ronan looked surprised.

“You actually believe that?”

“He has spent years hiding.”

Mira glanced toward the basement entrance.

“He needs to learn how the world works when nobody is arranging everything around him.”

Ronan nodded slowly, though concern remained visible behind his eyes. Sieghart learned quickly, adapted frighteningly fast, and rarely hesitated once he decided something was necessary. That quality had saved people repeatedly. It had also driven him into battles, corrupted-core experiments, and situations most experienced adults would avoid unless forced by circumstances.

“He’ll do whatever he thinks is necessary to get stronger.”

Mira looked toward him.

“That’s what worries me.”

Neither believed Sieghart was cruel. He protected strangers when circumstances demanded it, helped allies even while complaining, and had shown enough restraint to avoid becoming something genuinely monstrous despite enormous opportunities.

The problem was that his morality worked through personal reasoning rather than obedience. Rules mattered only until Sieghart decided the reason behind them was insufficient, incomplete, dishonest, or less important than whatever objective he pursued. Ronan crossed his arms and considered the strange child who had once needed rescuing from a false accusation, yet now possessed enough power to disappear into the world without requiring either of them.

“He’s still a decent kid.”

“For now.”

“That sounded ominous.”

“It wasn’t meant to.”

Mira sighed.

“He cares. He just doesn’t always care about the same things other people expect him to.”

That difference made Sieghart difficult to predict. He could risk himself protecting a town, then steal a corrupted core minutes later because understanding it seemed more important than following warnings. He could help rescue a kidnapped child without demanding recognition, then negotiate aggressively for magical knowledge before the danger had even become a distant memory.

None of those contradictions meant his morals were broken. If anything, Mira believed Sieghart possessed stronger personal boundaries than many adults who depended entirely upon laws to decide their behavior.

However, personal boundaries could change, especially when every dangerous victory rewarded him with more power and every forbidden discovery produced another tool that made previous limitations seem unnecessary.

“What happens when he decides something terrible is necessary?”

Ronan remained quiet.

“That’s the real question.”

Mira watched several ordinary carriages pass along the road, wondering how long it would take before Sieghart’s unusual vehicle became another rumor traveling between towns ahead of him. She could already imagine the stories: a young merchant with impossible mana, strange spells, unfamiliar equipment, and enough curiosity to walk directly toward whatever everyone else considered dangerous.

“He needs people around him.”

Ronan looked toward her.

“He just left.”

“That doesn’t change what I said.”

Mira turned toward Lunar Arc.

“He needs people he chooses to return to.”

Ronan finally understood what she had meant earlier. The basement was not supposed to become a leash, hiding place, or convenient location where Mira could periodically confirm Sieghart remained manageable. It needed to remain somewhere he returned voluntarily, especially if traveling taught him that power, freedom, and independence did not require complete isolation from everyone who cared whether he survived.

“You’re hoping he misses us.”

“I’m hoping he remembers us.”

Ronan smiled faintly.

“That sounds…”

“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”

They started walking back toward Lunar Arc, leaving the street behind while guild members continued ordinary morning routines without realizing how significant one departing carriage might eventually become.

Ronan stopped near the entrance and glanced back once more toward the road, though Sieghart had disappeared completely beyond Seraphina’s crowded districts several minutes earlier.

“So what do you think happens now?”

Mira considered the question seriously. Sieghart might return after one month because traveling became inconvenient. He might disappear for a year, discover three new magical disciplines, become wealthy, offend several nobles, and return carrying another impossible secret.

Or he might finally find clues concerning his grandparents, forcing him toward the revenge that had quietly shaped almost every decision since the farm disappeared four years earlier. Whatever happened, Mira suspected traveling would accelerate everything. Sieghart grew fastest whenever the world forced him to adapt, and he had just deliberately chosen to expose himself to an entire world.

“That depends entirely on what he finds.”

Ronan nodded.

“And what finds him.”

Mira stopped walking. That was considerably less comforting.

Far beyond Lunar Arc, Sieghart guided his mana-powered carriage through Seraphina’s gates, watching the open road stretch toward places he had never seen and knowledge nobody had prepared for him.

For the first time since his grandparents died, nobody had assigned his destination, selected his mission, chosen his companions, or decided which dangers were acceptable for him to investigate.

Sieghart smiled and increased the mana flowing into the engine. The world was finally his problem.