Infinite Mana - Chapter 197: The Anger Test (Patreon)

The following morning, Sieghart learned almost immediately that destroying the corrupted Guardian had changed something inside the dungeon. He had barely opened his temporary shop before conversations around the camp began repeating the same observation.

Explorers returning from early expeditions claimed the upper floors were quieter. Mining groups that normally encountered several golems before reaching their preferred excavation areas had crossed entire sections without seeing anything beyond scattered constructs. Sieghart listened without joining the conversations. One report could be coincidence, but by the fifth separate group complaining that they had found fewer valuable golems than expected, the pattern became considerably harder to dismiss.

Apparently, yesterday’s miserable fight had accomplished something useful beyond nearly turning Aldren’s soldiers into a collection of patients. Destroying the Guardian seemed to have reduced whatever accelerated the dungeon’s reconstruction cycle.

That supported Aldren’s theory considerably more than Sieghart liked. The corrupted Guardian might actually have been increasing golem production across several floors instead of merely summoning reinforcements whenever something entered its chamber.

Sieghart wanted confirmation with his own eyes. He closed the carriage again, secured the wheels, removed the steering controls, and headed toward the dungeon before anyone could approach him with another fractured body or equipment order.

Healing and trading had been useful, but neither interested him enough to spend another entire day outside when something inside the dungeon had apparently changed overnight. The difference became noticeable before he reached the second floor. Passages where Sieghart previously heard several heavy footsteps remained quiet, and Magic Vision showed far fewer moving mana concentrations beyond the surrounding walls.

Several abandoned mining areas had already been occupied again. Small groups worked around exposed mineral veins while armed escorts watched nearby passages instead of constantly fighting newly reconstructed golems.

“So killing the Guardian really did slow things down.”

That alone created another question. If the dungeon had already reconstructed the Guardian, would golem production increase again eventually, or had the corruption been responsible for the abnormal behavior rather than the Guardian itself? Sieghart intended to find out.

He moved quickly once the occupied sections disappeared behind him, activating Impulse repeatedly through the long tunnels instead of wasting time walking every corridor he already knew.

The spell had improved considerably during his recent travels. Constantly dodging, giant earthworms, and golems had provided far better practice than launching himself around a controlled training room beneath Lunar Arc.

[Impulse — Level 4]

At Level Four, each activation could throw Sieghart roughly twenty meters when he allowed the spell to use its full movement potential. That made crossing straight sections of dungeon almost ridiculously quick. The first few jumps felt excellent. Wind gathered around his body, accelerated him through the passage, and dispersed as Sieghart controlled his landing before immediately preparing another burst.

Then his knees started complaining.

The spell itself handled acceleration better than Sieghart’s original crude Wind bursts, but it still moved an ordinary human body through distances and speeds that ordinary knees had never been designed to enjoy. By the time he reached the fourth floor, a dull ache had begun spreading through both legs whenever he landed. Protection reduced part of the strain, but it could not completely eliminate forces Sieghart repeatedly generated himself. He stopped beside an abandoned mining cart and flexed one knee carefully before continuing at a slower pace.

“Level Four might be my current stupid limit.”

Increasing Impulse again without improving his body first would probably turn transportation magic into a convenient method of destroying his own joints. Infinite Mana remained impressively useless whenever the limitation involved bones, tendons, or basic biology.

Strength had several ways to improve already. Muscle Reinforcement provided both permanent and temporary benefits, while Fury offered another dangerous path if Sieghart ever became comfortable actually using it. Endurance and Vitality were another problem. None of his current spells seemed likely to increase either parameter soon, and waiting for some convenient magical discovery sounded unnecessarily optimistic.

The next time his Level granted free Status Points, Sieghart decided he should probably save at least some for both attributes instead of automatically feeding everything into whichever offensive parameter looked most appealing.

More Endurance would help his body tolerate repeated impacts and movement. Greater Vitality should improve the general physical foundation supporting everything else, especially as his magic kept encouraging him to move faster than his age suggested was reasonable.

Sieghart resumed descending without using Impulse at maximum output. Losing several minutes was considerably preferable to arriving before the Guardian with damaged knees and then discovering the rebuilt monster had learned how to kick. The fifth floor remained quieter than yesterday as well. A handful of mineral golems wandered through distant passages, but Sieghart avoided most of them rather than stopping for cores he could collect later.

His real target waited beyond them. When the entrance to the Guardian chamber finally appeared, Sieghart slowed and activated Magic Vision fully before stepping beneath the fractured archway.

Something occupied the center of the room. For several seconds, it looked like another massive boulder. Sieghart stopped.

“So you really came back.”

The dungeon had reconstructed its first Guardian considerably faster than he expected. The creature remained crouched with its limbs folded against the torso, recreating the deceptive shape they had encountered during the previous expedition.

Sieghart stepped farther inside. The boulder unfolded. Metallic limbs separated with grinding sounds while the creature gradually rose from the floor, though the rebuilt body looked noticeably smaller than the corrupted version Aldren’s group had fought.

It still towered over Sieghart by several meters. Its fists remained enormous, the torso retained thick metallic plates, and the reinforced joints would undoubtedly require considerable force to dismantle.

Yet something important was missing. The red glow. A normal amber light burned inside the narrow slit beneath its head, while the chest emitted a subdued golden-orange radiance rather than the threatening crimson pulse Sieghart remembered.

Magic Vision confirmed the difference immediately.

No corruption. Not a trace. Sieghart examined the central core as carefully as distance allowed. Mana traveled through the Guardian’s reconstructed body in organized currents, but everything possessed the same stable coloration as ordinary dungeon golems.

“That doesn’t feel right.”

The dungeon had rebuilt the creature. The corruption had not returned with it.

That suggested the original Guardian might never have been corrupted naturally. Something could have infected its core after reconstruction, altering the creature and causing the abnormal increase in golem production.

Alternatively, destroying the corrupted core might have removed whatever external influence had been contaminating the Guardian, allowing the dungeon to rebuild from an untouched original pattern.

Both possibilities created uncomfortable questions. If something had corrupted the Guardian once, could it happen again? More importantly, who or what had done it? Sieghart had found corrupted dungeon creatures before. Bellhaven’s unfinished Guardian had contained a dark-red core and an unnatural condition suspiciously similar to Zombification.

Now another dungeon had produced a corrupted Guardian with behavior absent from its reconstructed replacement. Two examples did not establish a universal pattern. They were enough to become annoying. Sieghart rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles while the Guardian finished standing. Whatever mystery surrounded the corruption would require more information than he possessed today. For now, there was an uncorrupted Guardian directly ahead.

“Well, let’s try to solo this thing.”

The Guardian stepped forward. Sieghart already knew the safest strategy.

He could maintain distance with Impulse, use Magic Vision to track the extremity nodes, and carve the construct apart gradually with Water Jet. The Guardian’s enormous size would make hitting precise areas easier, while its lack of corruption meant regeneration should remain significantly weaker than yesterday.

Sieghart could probably kite the creature around the chamber until every important joint stopped working, then remove the core without ever allowing one fist to touch him.

Safe.

Efficient.

Boring.

More importantly, that method would teach him very little about something considerably more dangerous than the Guardian itself.

Fury.

Sieghart’s expression slowly changed. The spell had remained sealed ever since absorbing the Orc King’s corrupted core. Even obtaining it had flooded him with enough rage that every resentment inside his head suddenly felt like justification for violence. He remembered injuries feeling insulting rather than painful. He remembered wanting to mutilate the dead Orc King simply because the creature had dared hurt him.

Worst of all, the rage had not felt foreign while he experienced it. Fury had taken emotions Sieghart already possessed and removed the restraint surrounding them. Hatred toward his parents, anger over his grandparents, frustration toward Mira and Ronan, pain, humiliation, resentment, everything had suddenly felt perfectly justified.

That was why he sealed it. The spell itself remained useful. Potentially extremely useful.

Fury increased physical capability through Rage, exactly the sort of reinforcement Sieghart needed whenever enemies closed the distance and his comparatively weak body became the limiting factor.

The problem was whether activating it would recreate the same mental state. Sieghart had never actually tested that. He had simply assumed it would. The Guardian began walking toward him, each heavy step sending small vibrations through the metallic floor.

Sieghart summoned a Mana Sword and watched the creature approach. This was probably the safest opportunity he would ever find. There were no civilians nearby. No allies. No hostages. No Aura soldiers asking questions about his spells. Nothing inside the chamber except Sieghart and a dungeon construct already trying to kill him.

If Fury made him violently angry, there was only one acceptable target available.

Even destroying the Guardian unnecessarily would hardly qualify as some moral catastrophe. The dungeon would reconstruct it eventually, assuming Sieghart did not damage whatever mechanism created it.

That made the experiment almost controlled.

Almost.

Sieghart dismissed the Mana Sword. Instead of preparing Water Jet, he stepped forward. The Guardian accelerated. Sieghart activated Impulse sideways and avoided the first enormous fist, but rather than creating twenty meters of distance, he limited the burst enough to remain within several steps of the creature.

The fist struck the floor.

Sieghart felt the impact through his boots. Close range was immediately less comfortable than theory suggested. The Guardian turned and swept one arm toward him.

Sieghart ducked beneath it while Muscle Reinforcement activated through his body, strengthening muscles that suddenly seemed embarrassingly small beside several tons of animated metal.

He could still stop.

Use Water Jet.

Return to the obvious strategy. There was no reason he actually needed Fury today. That was precisely the kind of reasoning that could keep the spell sealed forever, leaving Sieghart ignorant about whether one of his abilities was dangerous, manageable, or something between.

He hated unknowns more than he feared unpleasant answers. The Guardian raised both fists. Sieghart stared upward. All he needed to do was allow it. Would rage flood through him again? Would he lose perspective? Would the Guardian suddenly feel personally offensive simply because it managed to hurt him?

Perhaps the original mental effect had only come from absorbing the Orc King’s core, while the spell itself would merely produce controlled physical enhancement.

There was only one way to know. Sieghart released the seal.

[Sin Magic — Wrath]

[Fury — Level 1 activated.]

Heat exploded through his body.

Sieghart’s eyes widened. The Guardian swung.

And something inside him became very, very angry.