The moment I shouted, the thieves snapped out of their daze and bolted in opposite directions.
"Doyle," I said.
But he was already gone, launched like an arrow.
I chased the other one.
"Young lord!" Gareth called out behind me, but I didn't have time to respond.
Mnex, if I cast a spell from purple flames, can you guide it toward his leg?
"What do I look like? An Ex-Wife missile? Aim it yourself."
Ugh. It would've been easier to cast from where I stood, but if I missed, we'd lose him entirely. We had to end this quickly and decisively. If I wanted to send a message, it had to be loud.
I glanced back, thinking I'd tell Gareth to give chase.
But I didn't see Gareth.
I saw Isolde.
She was right behind me, maybe not even a full step behind.
Gareth was at least ten paces away.
Giving such a dangerous task to Isolde… bruised my manly pride.
"Let go of your manly pride and tell her. She's clearly in better shape than all of you."
"Isolde, can you follow him?" I asked as I ran.
I could feel her eyes on me, but mine never left the target.
"Yes," she said simply and picked up the pace. It felt like she'd been holding back this whole time just to match me.
"Stay sharp. Don't get too close. I'm about to cast a spell. Leave me a clear shot."
I was already gathering mana in my palms.
First, I'd try casting while running. If that didn't work, I'd stop and take aim.
"Just don't hit Isolde. I couldn't care less about the rest," said Mnex.
The purple flames swirled in my hands, dense, coiling, condensing until they shaped into something like a warped snowball, slightly smaller than a baseball. Even stopping to aim might not guarantee a clean shot, so I locked onto his back instead.
I tightened my focus and hurled the purple flame at the thief sprinting down the street.
If it hadn't been for Mnex, my adrenaline flooded hands might have trembled. But they didn't. My throw was clean. The ball of flame sailed exactly how I wanted, steady and true.
It was as if it moved with its own will, following my intent.
"Miss, and I swear I'll replay this moment to you for the next three days straight," said Mnex in a mocking tone.
My mind blanked. I stopped running. Just stood there, staring at the glowing purple fireball lighting up the alleyway. It was terrifyingly beautiful.
Gareth caught up beside me. He must have been watching the same thing, though I couldn't turn my eyes away. A few steps ahead, Isolde stood still. The flame had already passed her.
It was closing in.
"AaaaaaaaaaaaAHHHHHHHHHHH..!"
The scream burst out, shrill and sharp, echoing down the street.
The flame didn't just hit him.
The moment it touched him, it engulfed him.
The moment it touched him… he dissolved. Vaporized. Burned to nothing.
Gone in the blink of an eye.
All that remained… was ash.
I stood frozen in place, stunned.
I hadn't meant to kill him.
As the last of the purple flames flickered out above the ashes, that eerie glow slowly gave way to darkness.
"Ooohooo, who's the toaster now?" Mnex chimed in. "A toaster with a broken heat setting!"
I had just killed someone.
"If only. You didn't just kill him, you turned into a walking crematorium. Who needs a funeral when you've got Henry the Human Furnace?"
Gareth stared at the pile of ash until the fire had completely vanished. Then he looked at me. He opened his mouth twice, trying to speak, but no words came out.
Isolde returned, just as she had left. She wasn't looking at me, her eyes were turned elsewhere. I followed her gaze and saw Doyle.
He was carrying the other thief under one arm, though from the way the limbs dangled, it looked more like he was hauling a corpse.
He tossed the body in front of me.
"Didn't resist. Took his own life," Doyle said flatly.
Everyone stared at me.
But I couldn't say a word.
I had just killed someone with my own hands, intentionally or not.
When people died at The Muddy Pig, I could at least pretend I wasn't directly responsible.
But this?
This time it had been my magic.
My hands.
My spell had turned a person to ashes in a single second.
It all happened so fast, the thief's scream barely had time to escape before it was smothered by death.
"Only ash left from the other one too," Doyle said. "Never seen a spell like that before."
He sounded like he was describing an overcooked chicken.
"Hey, snap out of it, you idiot," Mnex snapped. "It's obvious they were ordered to kill themselves if caught. That's not your skill, it's their resolve."
This power...
If I'd had this kind of power in my previous life…
But I couldn't finish the thought.
"And that, my dear Henry, is why Uncle Ben kept nagging Peter about power and responsibility. Guess you're next in line."
Not the time for jokes.
"No, I'm serious. But fine, whatever. The real point is, now we know who our enemy is. Let's head back and be sure."
"Young lord?" Doyle said, snapping me out of the argument in my head.
I just stared at him.
"Remind me to never piss you off," he added with a laugh.
Gareth chuckled too. It wasn't genuine. It was nervous and stiff.
Isolde stayed quiet.
"I'm sorry," I said at last.
My eyes were locked on my hands.
"I didn't expect it to end like this."
"Actually, this might be for the best," said Isolde. "Now people will think twice before stealing from you."
I blinked. I hadn't expected that. From someone so graceful, I thought she'd be afraid.
"See that?" Mnex said. "Even Isolde's more levelheaded than you."
It was a strange feeling.
The regret of doing something irreversible…
And the thrill of realizing what I could do.
But one thing was clear:
Next time, if I ever cast magic on a person again… I'd think twice.
We went back.
When we reached the mansion, Theo was waiting at the entrance.
"Any movement?" I asked.
"Negative. No one showed up, and nothing suspicious in the area."
"Well, that confirms who's behind the thieves," said Mnex, sounding almost victorious.
I thanked Theo and went straight to my room.
I needed to think.
Hyness's people had likely heard the soap workshop was being moved to the blacksmith district… but no one went there.
The traveling merchants had been told it was being relocated behind the poultry farm… and no one showed up there either.
Remy.
I'd mentioned the carpenter's shop to Remy.
We knew it was him anymore.
But we had no proof.
If I went to my father and said, "Remy's guilty," he wouldn't believe me without evidence.
I couldn't just burn Remy to ash.
Best case, they'd say I'd gone mad.
Worst case… my father might have me executed.
"I have a brilliant plan!" said Mnex, barging in, as always.
When I opened my eyes again, it was almost morning.
The screams of the thief, consumed by purple flames, had found their way into my dreams.
"It was just a dream. Don't read too much into dreams," Mnex said, as always, beside me.
Was it, though?
Maybe if I'd used a different spell instead of fire. Lightning, maybe...
"It wouldn't have changed anything.
Lightning would've killed him through sudden shock.
Ice through hypothermic trauma.
Water... would've just made him wet."
Do you think I'll keep hearing those screams?
"Look at you. Already unlocking trauma achievements.
Do I congratulate you or log a bug report?"
I'm being serious.
"I know.
And you should know this too: some things are inevitable.
Just make sure you don't hurt the innocent.
Because this isn't the modern world.
Here, sometimes it really is kill or be killed.
But don't worry.
If it ever becomes too much...
I'll erase the memory.
Simple as that."
I wasn't sure if that was supposed to comfort me… or terrify me.
But one thing was certain:
This wasn't the world I came from.
And I needed to adapt.
Later that day, just past noon, I paid Remy a visit.
"Young lord, welcome," he said, all smiles, pretending not to know a thing.
But I knew that he knew.
And he didn't know that I knew.
"Good to see you, Remy. Always a pleasure," I said, putting on my best poker face.
I told him I'd made some price adjustments and that from now on, we'd be switching to an annual prepayment system.
Deliveries would be scheduled, and I wouldn't interfere with how much he sold for outside of Tharowen.
This setup would apply not just to current products, but everything I developed in the future.
Of course, he agreed immediately.
I doubt he even thought twice.
So you still think I'm just a kid... Wait for it, you shit faced bastard.
I'll play you so well, you'll curse the day you met me.
He said he'd send the payment with Raymond the following day.
I left after that and returned home to see my mother.
As usual, she was in the sitting room with Roderic and Agatha.
"Mother?" I said, stopping at the doorway.
"Ah, my little prince. Come here. What is it?" she asked gently. Her voice had softened lately, a sign that her spirits were slowly lifting.
Just then, Isolde entered with a tray holding two drinks, warm milk for me, herbal tea for Mother. I had asked her to prepare them earlier.
While we drank, I told her about the business I'd started with help from Raymond and Charles.
She listened calmly, without interrupting.
From the outside, it probably looked absurd.
My feet didn't even touch the floor when I sat down...
And yet, I had started a business.
"The people of this city may not know your face, but they know your name," she said. "Thanks to Raymond, every time he delivers food, he tells them it's from you. Even… your father probably knows."
"Doesn't that embarrass you?" I asked, lowering my head.
She smiled and raised her hand to her lips, speaking almost in a whisper:
"Not at all. Actually, among nobles, it's something of a tradition. Before taking over the family, children sometimes start small ventures to learn the value of money. And your father is the lord. Not you. Not yet."
Mnex had once told me that nobles were frowned upon for doing business.
But I wasn't a landowner.
"Besides," my mother added, "the soap and tooth cleaning powder you brought… they're wonderful. Much better than chewing on tree bark."
Then I told her about my expansion plans.
New products. Some skincare ideas too.
"You should do it as soon as possible," she said with a warm smile.
Just then, a servant entered with a letter for her.
Apparently, Uncle Philip had sent notice.
He'd be arriving no later than noon tomorrow.