Infinite Mana - Chapter 175: Behind the Smoke (Thank you for your support, Hollowlce!) (Patreon)

A Giant Fireball formed above Sieghart’s hand, expanding into a roaring sphere of compressed flame large enough that the heat immediately rolled across the road between them. The Aura user’s eyes narrowed.

Sieghart fired.

The enormous projectile crossed the distance violently, but the swordsman reacted before impact. Aura exploded through his legs as he launched himself sideways with enough speed to leave a deep gouge beneath his original position.

The Giant Fireball struck the road instead.

Flame erupted outward in a deafening explosion, ripping apart packed earth and throwing broken stone, dirt, smoke, and burning debris across everything surrounding the impact point.

The shockwave rolled over the wagon hard enough to make the damaged wood creak while the elderly couple instinctively ducked beside it, shielding their faces from the sudden blast of dust.

The Aura user landed beyond the edge of the explosion and immediately raised his sword, keeping his body low while smoke swallowed the battlefield around him. Visibility collapsed almost completely.

Dark gray dust mixed with black smoke from scorched earth, creating a thick curtain that prevented him from seeing more than several meters in any direction.

The man did not move recklessly. Sieghart noticed that immediately.

Instead of charging through the smoke and assuming the mage had remained where he was, the Aura user began backing toward clearer ground while keeping his sword ready for an attack from any direction.

That was smart. A Fireball could emerge from the smoke. A Water Jet could attack from an unexpected angle. Glacial Fists could materialize beside him without warning. The swordsman clearly understood enough about Sieghart now to expect some form of follow-up immediately after losing visibility.

Nothing came.

The Aura user continued moving carefully, using controlled steps instead of explosive acceleration while his eyes searched the shifting smoke for movement. Seconds passed. Still nothing. The silence became suspicious.

Then the wind began carrying the smoke away. The swordsman narrowed his eyes as the dark curtain thinned, gradually revealing broken road, scattered flames, and a solitary figure standing beyond the crater created by the Giant Fireball.

Sieghart was there. The teenager held a long Mana Spear between both hands, its translucent blue-white shaft extending beyond his shoulder while magical light moved along the sharpened point.

The swordsman’s expression tightened. So that was the follow-up. Sieghart lowered the spear. Then he charged.

The Aura user watched him carefully as the apparent mage accelerated through the fading smoke, running directly toward someone who had spent the entire fight dominating close-range exchanges.

That alone told the man something was wrong. Sieghart moved quickly. Very quickly for a mage. But not quickly enough. Compared with Aura acceleration, the charge looked ordinary. The swordsman relaxed slightly and adjusted his stance, placing the broad blade across the approaching spear’s expected path while preparing his weight for the impact.

He clearly understood what Sieghart wanted. The mage would thrust. The Aura user would parry. Then Sieghart would probably release another spell from close range while his opponent’s sword remained occupied.

It was exactly the sort of layered attack Sieghart had used repeatedly throughout their fight. The Aura user prepared for it. The Mana Spear thrust forward. Steel moved to intercept it. The weapons met. And the swordsman felt absolutely nothing.

No resistance.

No impact.

No magical structure pressing against his blade.

His sword passed straight through the Mana Spear. The Aura user’s eyes widened. The weapon wavered. So did Sieghart. The teenager’s entire figure distorted like an image reflected across disturbed water before becoming translucent around the edges.

“An illusion—”

That was all the time he received. Glacial Fists appeared around him.

Not one.

Not two.

More than a dozen condensed fists of hardened ice materialized at different heights around his body, already positioned inside the space his attention had abandoned while dealing with the illusion.

The Aura user moved immediately.

His sword cut through the first Glacial Fist approaching his face, splitting the construct into two frozen halves before either piece could strike him.

He twisted his shoulders and avoided another. His left forearm rose to block a third aimed at his temple. Ice shattered against reinforced flesh. A fourth Glacial Fist came from behind. He turned enough that it struck his shoulder instead of the back of his head.

The impact forced him half a step sideways. That half-step ruined everything. Another fist slammed into his ribs. The Aura user grunted and attempted to launch himself away, but two more Glacial Fists struck his legs before his feet could establish the positioning required for explosive movement.

Ice burst across his thighs. Frost spread instantly over his trousers and armor. The swordsman stumbled. Sieghart did not give him time to recover. Every remaining Glacial Fist attacked together.

One struck the man’s sword arm near the elbow, knocking the weapon away from its defensive line just as another construct smashed against his opposite shoulder. A third hit his stomach. His reinforced body folded slightly around the impact. The fourth connected with his jaw.

The Aura user’s head snapped sideways. That was the first clean blow to his skull. It changed the entire sequence. His awareness blurred for less than a second, but against attacks already surrounding him, less than a second was enough.

A Glacial Fist struck his left temple. Another hit his right cheek immediately afterward. The next crashed upward beneath his chin, snapping his head back while ice fragments exploded across his beard and throat.

The Aura user tried raising his sword again. A fist hammered into his wrist. His fingers opened involuntarily. The broad sword fell. Sieghart remained concealed beyond the swordsman’s line of sight, maintaining Phantom Image while controlling the barrage through Focus.

He had no intention of letting the man regain control once the first clean head strike landed. Another Glacial Fist struck the swordsman’s knee from the side. The joint bent awkwardly. He dropped toward one leg. A second fist immediately slammed into the opposite knee and removed the remaining support beneath him.

The Aura user hit the road. He tried pushing himself upright. Three Glacial Fists struck simultaneously. One hammered his back. Another crushed into his shoulder. The third hit the side of his head and sent him rolling across the dirt. Frost accumulated everywhere now.

His coat had become rigid around several sections, frozen where repeated impacts left layers of ice across the material. The exposed side of his face had turned red beneath the cold before pale patches began spreading around the worst areas.

His fingers trembled.

The Aura reinforcement protecting him remained impressive, but the barrage never stopped long enough for his body to recover completely between impacts. Each strike created another opening. Each opening allowed the next fist to land more cleanly.

The swordsman attempted to roll toward his fallen weapon. Sieghart directed two fists into his ribs. The impacts stopped the movement immediately. Another struck his forearm when he tried protecting his head, followed by a heavy blow directly into the same limb before the first layer of frost disappeared.

A crack came from somewhere beneath the frozen sleeve.

The man groaned. His other arm rose. Three fists hammered into it from separate directions. His defensive posture collapsed. Sieghart finally stepped through the thinning smoke. The real one this time.

He kept enough distance that the Aura user could not suddenly reach him even if the man somehow recovered the strength required for another explosive charge.

The swordsman saw him. Confusion appeared first. Then understanding. The illusion carrying the Mana Spear had already disappeared completely, leaving nothing where the Aura user had expected his opponent to be.

“You…”

The words barely escaped him. A Glacial Fist struck his mouth. His head hit the road. Sieghart stopped the barrage. Silence returned gradually while pieces of ice fell around the beaten man, melting across dirt already darkened by blood from the earlier bandits.

The Aura user remained conscious. Heavy bruising covered every exposed section of his body, while frostbite-like discoloration spread across his cheek, hands, neck, and several places where repeated Glacial Fists had concentrated their cold.

One eye had swollen almost completely shut.

Blood ran from his nose and split lips.

His sword arm lay awkwardly beside him, no longer strong enough to reach for the weapon resting only several meters away.

Sieghart released Phantom Image completely and studied the result. The trick had worked much better than expected. That bothered him slightly. Not because deceiving an enemy felt unfair.

Sieghart had stopped caring about fair fights the moment people started attempting to kill him seriously. The problem was reliability. A stronger opponent might possess enough perception to recognize Phantom Image immediately. A skilled mage using Ocular Magic could see the illusion layered over the real magical structure. Someone with wide-area sensing might locate Sieghart regardless of visual deception.

The Aura user had been powerful. But he was still limited.

“This would probably only work this well against lesser opponents.”

The swordsman managed to glare at him with his remaining open eye. Sieghart considered the wording.

“Relatively lesser.”

That sounded more accurate. The man had nearly killed him several times. Sieghart had simply encountered much worse things before. Another consideration bothered him more. Using Phantom Image openly meant creating witnesses who could eventually spread information about one of his most valuable defensive tools.

Sieghart wanted strangers believing his illusion only changed appearance, rather, he didn’t want them knowing of it at all. If enemies began expecting false bodies, invisible movement, duplicated figures, or deceptive magical weapons, every future use became less effective.

Normally, he would have preferred killing the Aura user without revealing that advantage. Today he had been forced to accelerate things. Enhanced Smell had detected approaching people several minutes earlier. The scents were closer now.

Multiple humans. Horses. Probably guards or another traveling group responding to the explosion and earlier fighting. Sieghart did not particularly want to stand beside six corpses explaining why five men had lost their heads or faces while the sixth appeared to have been beaten by an invisible crowd.

He looked down at the Aura user. The man was still trying to move. Sieghart summoned a Mana Sword. No warning followed. No final question. No demand for surrender. He stepped closer and swung once. The blade passed through the Aura user’s neck. His head separated cleanly and rolled across the road before stopping beside one of the frozen patches left by the Glacial Fists.

The body remained still afterward. Sieghart dismissed the weapon. He had briefly considered burying the bandits. That idea now seemed increasingly unnecessary. Guards were approaching. They might want the bodies for identification, bounty records, criminal investigations, or whatever bureaucratic reasons normally existed around dead bandits. Removing everything might actually create more problems.

“Someone else can deal with that.”

Sieghart turned away from the corpses and approached the injured horse. The animal immediately reacted. Its breathing accelerated, and its front legs scraped weakly against the ground when Sieghart came closer. He stopped several meters away.

“Easy.”

The horse obviously did not understand him. That was fine. Sieghart lowered himself slightly and extended one hand without making sudden movements, allowing the animal enough time to smell him before approaching the injured legs.

The cuts were worse than he had realized earlier.

Both rear legs had been slashed deeply enough to prevent the horse from escaping, though the attackers had apparently avoided killing it because they intended to steal the wagon afterward.

Sieghart’s expression hardened again. He gathered White Magic. First Aid activated through both hands. Warm mana spread carefully through torn muscle and damaged vessels, stopping the bleeding first before forcing the surrounding tissue to begin closing.

Healing animals was slightly different from healing humans, mostly because Sieghart knew considerably less about their anatomy. That made First Aid’s guidance even more valuable. The magic responded to damage rather than requiring him to understand every structure manually, allowing Sieghart to repair the worst injuries without accidentally attaching something incorrectly.

The horse gradually stopped trembling. Its breathing slowed. Sieghart continued until the wounds had sealed enough that fresh blood no longer escaped, though he deliberately avoided forcing the animal upright immediately.

It needed rest. He could leave that to the owners. Sieghart stood and turned toward the elderly couple. The old man had managed to get onto his feet with his wife supporting him. Both stared at Sieghart.

Not gratefully. Fear dominated their expressions. Sieghart could understand why.

They had watched him decapitate several people, burn two faces beyond recognition, deceive another fighter with an illusion, beat that man nearly unconscious with magical fists, and then execute him without hesitation.

From their perspective, the difference between Sieghart and the bandits probably consisted mostly of who he had decided deserved killing.

He looked toward the cut above the old man’s eyebrow and several bruises covering his arms. First Aid could handle those easily. Sieghart took one step toward them. The elderly woman pulled her husband backward. The movement was small.

Sieghart stopped. For a moment, an uncomfortable silence remained between them while smoke from the Giant Fireball continued drifting across the road behind him. He could reassure them. Probably.

Explaining that he had helped because their situation reminded him of his grandparents sounded far too personal. Saying that he was not dangerous would also sound ridiculous while six dead people remained scattered across the road.

Sieghart decided not to bother.

The horse was stable. The couple could walk. Help was approaching. That was enough. He turned away without another word.