Infinite Mana - Chapter 184: People Were More Complicated Than Golems (Thank you for your support, Corteze williams!) (Patreon)

Sieghart stood and looked across the dismantled stone bodies around him before another question began bothering him. The books described golem creation in a way that sounded simple only because everyone had repeated the explanation for generations.

Golems supposedly appeared whenever enough dungeon mana gathered around suitable stone or mineral material. The accumulated mana created a core, organized a body around itself, and eventually produced a functional construct capable of wandering the tunnels. That explanation sounded reasonable until Sieghart examined the actual structure. The golems were too organized for him to accept that everything happened because mana randomly accumulated around a convenient pile of rocks.

The central core distributed energy through repeating channels, smaller nodes controlled specific extremities, damaged limbs recognized where they belonged, and separated components automatically attempted reconstruction through matching magical patterns.

"Mana gathers in the right place, builds a core, assembles a body, and somehow the finished thing already knows exactly what it's supposed to do."

Sieghart crouched beside one dismantled arm and activated Magic Vision again. Even after removing the primary core, faint traces remained where the internal pathways had previously formed repeating structures through the stone. Something defined that pattern. It might not be intelligent, conscious, or capable of making decisions the way a human did, but the resulting organization looked far too consistent to dismiss as completely directionless accumulation.

"And who controls the dungeon?"

People had asked similar questions before, but nobody had ever provided an answer he considered satisfying. Even experienced explorers usually responded with theories rather than anything approaching established knowledge. Some scholars believed dungeon behavior came from ancient creatures whose remains acted as templates for the entire environment. Others argued that concentrated mana naturally developed repeating structures after enough time passed.

‘That is similar to what those kids told me..’

The strangest part was how little most people appeared to care. Miners knew golems returned, adventurers knew monsters respawned, merchants knew which pieces sold well, and governments knew which dungeons needed monitoring. Apparently, that practical knowledge was sufficient for almost everyone.

Sieghart initially found the indifference ridiculous before remembering how people behaved on Earth. Most humans used electricity without understanding power generation, breathed without studying atmospheric chemistry, and watched clouds without caring how condensation actually worked.

People accepted familiar mysteries because understanding every mechanism behind daily life was unnecessary. Dungeons had existed long enough that monster reconstruction probably felt no stranger to locals than weather had felt to Sieghart before reincarnation.

He unfortunately lacked the personality required to leave that alone. The dungeon created creatures according to repeating designs, reconstructed destroyed populations, preserved useful materials, and maintained systems sophisticated enough to resemble magical engineering.

Now this particular dungeon had also been producing golems faster than normal for several months. Something had changed inside an environment that most people already accepted without understanding.

Maybe ambient mana density had increased naturally, forcing faster construction. Perhaps repeated harvesting had triggered some automatic population response, or the Dungeon Guardian had become stronger and started distributing more energy.

Another possibility was considerably more interesting. Something deeper inside the dungeon might actually be changing how the entire system operated, whether through conscious control or an automatic mechanism nobody outside had recognized yet. Sieghart narrowed his eyes when another tremor traveled through the floor beneath his boots. Several heavy footsteps answered from different passages farther ahead, suggesting the dungeon had already prepared more opportunities for experimentation.

The deeper levels were supposedly where stronger golems, better ores, denser mana stones, and eventually the dungeon boss waited. Conveniently, they were also the most likely places to contain evidence explaining why reconstruction had accelerated. Sieghart summoned a Mana Sword while Water Jet began gathering around his free hand. Whether anyone truly controlled the dungeon remained uncertain, but whatever had changed was probably not waiting near the entrance.

"Funny how everything interesting is always deeper underground."

He started walking toward the approaching tremors, already planning which golem parts he could disable next without destroying anything valuable enough to sell afterward.

Sieghart decided not to push deeper into the dungeon that day. The strange increase in golem production interested him, but curiosity alone was not enough reason to enter unknown territory without preparing the defensive magic he specifically wanted first.

For now, he treated the entire expedition as an initial experiment. He dismantled ordinary stone golems, practiced identifying their extremity nodes through Magic Vision, tested several attack combinations, and learned how to preserve their valuable cores instead of accidentally destroying them.

Fifty Experience from each ordinary golem was not exceptional compared with stronger monsters, but their predictable movements made collecting cores considerably safer than hunting corrupted creatures or anything large enough to swallow Sieghart in one bite.

He alternated between keeping better cores for future sales and absorbing the more ordinary ones whenever a defeated construct contained nothing particularly unusual. Eventually, another amber core dissolved into mana between his fingers, and the System finally delivered the notification he had been waiting for.

[ Level Increased: 14 → 15]

Sieghart watched the notification disappear before looking toward the passages leading farther underground. Heavy footsteps still echoed through distant tunnels, and Magic Vision revealed several moving concentrations well beyond the section he had explored.

That was more than enough for his first visit. He had gained another Personal Level, recovered materials worth selling, tested several combat spells, and confirmed that the abnormal increase in golem numbers was real rather than exaggerated complaints from irritated miners.

Going deeper immediately would certainly provide additional experience, but Sieghart wanted Barrier Magic before challenging the stronger sections. According to everyone outside, deeper golems became faster, heavier, and considerably more difficult to disable before entering striking distance.

A proper barrier could completely change those encounters. Instead of repeatedly using Impulse to escape several hundred kilograms of animated stone, Sieghart could stop the creatures somewhere convenient and dismantle them while they wasted time attacking a defensive field.

The theory sounded straightforward enough that Sieghart immediately became suspicious about how difficult learning the actual spell would probably become. Magic had an irritating habit of making simple ideas complicated once he tried building them properly.

He turned toward the surface with several intact cores, ore fragments stored inside reinforced bags. Most ordinary stone remained behind because carrying hundreds of kilograms for a few extra coins sounded unnecessarily exhausting.

Eventually, sunlight appeared through the reinforced entrance ahead. The ordinary sounds of the dungeon camp gradually replaced underground echoes, bringing conversations, hammering, wagon wheels, furnaces, and merchants back into Sieghart’s awareness. Nobody paid much attention when he emerged alone. Several people glanced toward the young merchant returning from the dungeon, but most quickly resumed their work after seeing no disaster, or enormous treasure following behind him.

Sieghart preferred that reaction. The less attention people gave Sieg, the easier it would remain to leave the region later without creating another collection of rumors about a suspiciously young mage with too many unrelated abilities.

He crossed the camp toward his carriage while inspecting it automatically. The vehicle remained exactly where he had secured it, every chain still wrapped through the wheels and every compartment apparently untouched since he entered the dungeon. While returning the chains beneath the cargo floor, however, Sieghart finally noticed something he had mostly ignored during his arrival and the rush of selling equipment earlier.

There were injured people everywhere.

Not people on the verge of death, and certainly nothing resembling the half-dead survivors pulled from the earthworm dungeon, but enough bandages, limps, bruises, and stiff movements to make the pattern impossible to miss once he actually looked.

Several returning adventurers carried dark bruises across their faces and exposed arms. One man had his ribs wrapped beneath an open shirt, while another kept two injured fingers rigid beneath a crude wooden splint. Sieghart stared for several seconds and realized he had technically noticed the bandages earlier. He simply had not considered them important while concentrating on customers, prices, runic equipment, and information about the dungeon.

At the time, injuries had looked like ordinary occupational details surrounding people who willingly entered underground tunnels to fight stone creatures for money. Now that Sieghart was thinking about progression, those same injuries represented something considerably more useful.

White Magic. He could heal them. The thought sounded uncomfortably mercenary when phrased that way, so Sieghart corrected it before his conscience started another argument about whether he had become some kind of progression-obsessed sociopath.

He could help injured people while improving White Magic at the same time. That formulation sounded considerably better and, more importantly, remained completely accurate. First Aid was already one of his more practiced White Magic spells, but the larger White Magic path refused to advance efficiently when Sieghart only protected or healed himself. He could offer a huge discount… no need to be stingy with infinite mana, right?

The System wanted him to genuinely protect, strengthen, or heal other people facing meaningful danger. Apparently, endless self-preservation did not satisfy whatever philosophy had been built into that progression path. Sieghart still considered that requirement inconvenient because it involved the one resource he could not create with Infinite Mana.

Other people.

This camp, however, provided a steady supply of adventurers returning with cracked ribs, twisted joints, bruised muscles, cuts, fractures, and every other consequence produced by fighting creatures made from several hundred kilograms of stone.

Healing services could become another source of income alongside runic equipment. Adventurers would probably pay well if First Aid allowed them to recover faster instead of waiting several days before entering the dungeon again.

Sieghart imagined adding another sign beside his folding counter whenever he reopened the shop.

RUNES — EQUIPMENT — REPAIRS — HEALING

The idea looked increasingly like a legitimate traveling business rather than a convenient excuse to carry tools, books, weapons, and enough magical equipment to make inspections uncomfortable.

There was one complication, however. Healing someone safely outside the dungeon would certainly improve First Aid through repeated use, but Sieghart was less certain whether the System would reward the larger White Magic path significantly.

Someone sitting peacefully beside a tavern with a bruised shoulder still needed healing, but the immediate danger had already ended. The System seemed annoyingly particular about recognizing genuine protection rather than convenient repetition.

A party actively fighting inside the dungeon would be completely different.

Sieghart stopped fastening one of the chains beneath the carriage as that thought settled properly inside his mind.

Joining a party would provide repeated opportunities to use Protection upon other people while attacks were actually happening. Muscle Reinforcement could strengthen front-line fighters, while First Aid could handle injuries before the danger ended.

Summoning Magic might benefit even more. Sieghart had already learned that summoned constructs gained more meaningful progression whenever they fulfilled independent roles instead of existing solely as extensions of his personal attacks.

If another adventurer used one of his Mana Swords to kill a golem, the System might recognize the weapon as successfully fulfilling a role for someone other than its creator. Mana Shields could defend separate teammates, and repeated cooperation might eventually reveal whatever requirement Sieghart needed to move beyond summoned equipment toward actual creatures.

Arcane Magic remained considerably less predictable, but Mana Transfusion, Mana Runes, and various forms of magical empowerment all sounded like abilities that could benefit from repeated cooperation with other fighters. In theory, joining a competent party was ridiculously efficient for several progression paths at once.

Sieghart disliked the idea almost immediately. That probably meant he needed to consider it seriously. The central problem with adventuring parties was extremely simple. They contained people.

People talked, asked questions, disagreed about plans, argued about loot, changed their minds, became emotional, wanted explanations, and occasionally decided that everyone else needed to hear their opinions immediately.

People also had different tolerances for danger, different walking speeds, different sleeping schedules, different priorities, and an irritating tendency to become curious about companions who used more types of magic than seemed reasonable.

Sieghart possessed some experience working with groups through Lunar Arc, which was enough to understand that cooperation could be incredibly useful without becoming remotely convenient.

There remained another option he preferred significantly more, although learning how to accomplish it was becoming increasingly important.

Animals.

Or monsters.

A magically tamed beast would probably never ask why Sieghart possessed Infinite Mana. It would not care that he used Black, White, Arcane, Summoning, Psionic, Perception, Ocular, Poison, Alchemy, Necromancy, and Sin Magic.

A creature also seemed considerably less likely to report his abilities to a noble family, spread rumors about his spell combinations, or ask uncomfortable questions about where he learned everything.