"Ok, ok, could you please go back and clearly explain what you mean?" Kuisha was the first to break the silence, her tone strained as if trying very hard to keep the emotions in—and who can blame her—she just heard someone tell her king his birth was a mistake! And now, she was angry, annoyed, irritated, and a hundred different things at the same time.
Who does this guy think he is? she thought in irritation…
He's the new sage, apparently, another traitorous thought popped into her head…
Who cares if he was the new sage? I still don't get what all the fuss is about... The boy was rude, impolite, and clearly indifferent to them and their status…
I didn't think the day would come when I would actually miss the fear and cautiousness that usually accompanies humans when dealing with devils—it's really unsettling to see and somehow feel just how indifferent he is about us and this whole thing…
And what was Sai thinking when he refused to let the rest of the peerage come with us? They could have been helpful in some way…
Still, no matter how much she tried to distract herself from thinking about this situation, it wouldn't help—because here he was—sitting there like he didn't just tell them that Sairaorg was supposed to be dead before he was born, hinting at a conspiracy she knew was too complex for either her or the entire peerage to uncover alone.
She didn't want to believe him, but something about the way he spoke and behaved suggested he was genuinely telling them what he believed to be the truth…
She glanced at her king, who seemed abnormally somber and somewhat agitated—she knew exactly what she had to ask, but before she could, Harry finally decided to talk…
"I don't understand what you mean by that. What exactly don't you understand?" Harry finally replied. It was clear he wanted something; this guy wasn't as subtle as he thought…
Still, there was something unsettling about the way he looked at her—not the creepy way in which most males stared at her—but more of an "I can see through you" kind of way, if that made sense…
If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he was merely toying with her—and maybe he was; she didn't actually know him well enough to rule that possibility out yet…
She looked at her king to see what to do next. The kid clearly didn't want to part with the information on his own—but Sai merely nodded, a signal that meant 'Stop talking, I got this'—so she did, though that didn't mean she liked it.
Still, I'll make sure to thoroughly discuss how to deal with all of this with Sai and the rest when we return. This whole meeting is turning into a bigger problem than anticipated.
************
"Harry, my friend, how about we stop this and finally make a deal?" Sairaorg said in a formal yet friendly tone. "I like to believe that I have lived long enough in different kinds of environments and with various types of people to gauge what they want. So just tell me what you want in exchange for the information and the two magicians you have tied up in there, so that we don't waste our time."
Some might find it strange to trust the words of a kid he had just met, or that he didn't actually try to use force to get the information he needed—but his instincts told him what the boy said was likely true, and he had learned to trust those instincts. Plus, there was no guarantee he could win, at least not against Harry…
The fact that the boy was a sage meant something significant in the supernatural world. And if his suspicions about the boy being born a sage proved correct, it would be all the more reason not to fight him—because no matter how hard you try, when the world doesn't want you to win, you won't. He wasn't delusional enough to think he had the power to go against the world yet.
Still, that just meant he needed to train more later but at least for now— he should hear what Harry has to say and maybe this will be the start of a great friendship.
'And let's not forget that the kid has a direct link to a primordial,' a stray thought crossed his mind.
"You know, I'm starting to like you more and more, Sairaorg, so I'll be generous this once and tell you what I think happened to you without including the information as part of the deal," Harry said, his tone a mixture of amusement and seriousness. It was clear he was finding the situation entertaining…
"You see, Sai—can I call you Sai? I am going to call you Sai anyway, so don't bother!" he started, not giving him time to reply. "What I think happened—and this is just a conjecture I came up with based on what I see—is that someone poisoned your mother while she was still pregnant with you." He stopped for a second. "Is she alive, by the way? You know what? It doesn't matter right now; I'll just continue." He glanced at Sairaorg's expression but didn't press for answers.
"Anyway, the poison either didn't work as intended, or you somehow—by some miracle—fought it off and destroyed said poison while in the womb. But obviously, miracles don't come free, so you were left with the consequences, side effects, or whatever you want to call it. That could perfectly explain your lack of magical capacity." He paused slightly, made a thoughtful face (finger on his chin and everything), then continued,
"I guess it could also be that your mother discovered she was poisoned and took some kind of measures—be it an antidote or a healing potion—which saved your lives, but that too didn't spare you from the side effects.
I can't pinpoint exactly what happened, but I'm pretty sure it was poison, and I am also sure your condition is a result of some kind of side effect.
Because you see, your soul seemed to have accepted your body's condition as the default settings, which halted the maturity of your own magic's connection between your body and your soul," Harry's voice was even and steady while his face showed a thoughtful expression.
If what he says proves to be true… Sairaorg didn't let that thought continue.
"And are you sure it couldn't be just a normal disease? Maybe a curse? Or a hex of some sort?" he asked, trying to ignore his increasingly dark thoughts and understand why Harry didn't consider that.
They were devils, after all, and curses weren't out of the question—they had a whole house whose trait was related to curses. But judging by the look Harry was giving him, he thought it was a stupid question—his eyes were quite expressive.
"It can't be direct magic because magic leaves traces—no matter how insidious a curse is, it always leaves a mark. You don't have such a mark. As for diseases, I haven't studied devil biology, so I wouldn't know, but the chances of your condition being a result of your mother getting sick are very low…" he nonetheless replied, his voice and expression remaining neutral this time.
It seems that's all the theory I'll get from him for now, huh? Dealing with him is going to be quite the challenge, isn't it?
Sairaorg could hazard a guess as to why Harry was the way he was—he was smart, perhaps too smart. He might not have experienced a normal life either; such things leave traces on a person's personality. He'd know…
He'd noticed from the start that the emotions Harry conveyed weren't as intense as one would expect from someone going through puberty—it was as if he was unconsciously letting just a fraction of his emotions show while tightly controlling the rest, and that wasn't healthy…
*********
"Anyway, all that is just a theory, and I could be wrong, so just take my words as a reference," Harry told Sairaorg, trying to snap him out of his thoughtful contemplation—I am not wrong, though. His magical capacity is capped at the level he had when he was in the womb—that I can tell for certain.
*If anyone is wondering how, then all I can say is having Mage Sight and a domain working together is a cheat…*
"Hmm, oh yes, I know. I will investigate it myself too," Sairaorg replied. "Now let's talk about the deal. Tell me what you want in exchange for those two."
"Oh, that's easy. You can take them and bring me books about magical theory, the basics of magical circles—how to create them, wards, runic languages, alchemy, and anything magic-related, really. Start from the basics, though. Oh, and don't forget to bring me a variety, both old and modern," Harry said with a smile.
This was what all this farce was about. If only he could somehow copy everything magic-related in the world, he wouldn't even need to go out, let alone deal with people—*Let's research a way to do that later…*
"So, magic then. I'll leave that to Kuisha. I'm not much of a magician, as you can see, but I'm a master of combat, so if you need to learn, you just let me know," he paused slightly before continuing, "If it's okay to ask, though, why the basics? Kuisha told me you're a powerful magician."
Now Harry faced the choice of telling him the truth or giving him a half-truth.
"Oh, that's because it's magic. There shouldn't be much need for further explanation. I always start from the basics when it comes to it. The wards and runes are for warding—duh. I really am trying hard to control myself here and not tear these shifty ones set up around the shack," he replied, half-serious, half-joking.
"Well, a deal is a deal. So, consider it done. Just hand over the men to me, and I will have Kuisha or someone else from my peerage come and deliver the books to you later," Sairaorg said, extending his hand for a handshake, which Harry took.
Harry then gestured with his free hand, and the unconscious men were dragged to their side by his magic and thrown toward Kuisha, who had been sitting quietly behind Sairaorg for a while now.
They didn't linger much after that. Sairaorg just grabbed the unconscious magicians by their necks and walked through the magical circle that appeared in front of them.
After they left, Harry shifted his position and laid down quietly on the sofa for a moment.
He wanted to ask a lot of questions—about everything. Be it the peerage system they had going on, the layout of the Underworld, how Sairaorg used his life energy… a lot of different questions, really.
From the information he had, he knew they could enslave different races and turn them into devils, but that was also based on what a fanatic human supremacist knew. He didn't hold much belief in human supremacy himself.
Truth be told, he didn't have much belief in anything at all besides power. He believed as long as someone was powerful enough, they didn't need to believe in anything else besides their own power. He wanted to be powerful for the sake of being powerful.
Now that he thought about it, he could see why the old man sent him here—to experience life more, build character, and explore more about himself. He didn't share the beliefs of those people because he hadn't lived like them. He wanted power and knowledge because he knew there were things out there that he didn't understand and couldn't stand up to.
Is this what it feels like to grow up?
Ah, who am I kidding? I didn't grow at all; I just contemplated a little. Or is that what it's all about? Uh, who cares…
He would just do his thing for now and wait to see what would happen.
——
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