Infinite Mana - Chapter 198: Fist Against Iron (Thank you for your support, Franmeyers!) (Patreon)

The instant Fury flooded his body, Sieghart activated Muscle Reinforcement without consciously deciding to do it. The familiar Magic spread through his muscles at the same time the unnatural heat from Wrath sharpened every movement.

His body felt lighter despite gaining no actual reduction in weight. Muscles responded faster, his balance settled more naturally, and the ordinary hesitation that accompanied standing in front of a five-meter metallic Guardian disappeared almost completely.

That last part worried him somewhere in the back of his mind, but it did not worry him enough to stop. The Guardian raised one enormous fist and stepped forward, its amber core sending dense mana through the pathways connecting its shoulder, elbow, and reinforced hand.

Sieghart charged directly toward it. No Water Jet, no Wind Blade, and no barrier placed conveniently between them. He simply lowered his shoulder, tightened his right fist, and ran toward several tons of animated metal while every sensible instinct he normally possessed became strangely quiet.

The Guardian punched first, and Sieghart punched back. Their fists collided, and the impact exploded through the chamber like two hammers striking an anvil at the same time. A circular burst of dust rushed away from their feet while Sieghart felt the collision travel through every bone in his arm. His shoulder jerked backward, his teeth clicked together, and something inside his hand cracked loudly enough that he heard it beneath the metallic impact.

The Guardian’s fist barely moved, but Sieghart did. He slid backward several meters while his boots scraped across the floor, leaving shallow marks through the dust before Muscle Reinforcement and Fury helped him stabilize. Blood started falling from his right hand. Several knuckles had split open, and the skin across two fingers had torn badly enough that red drops immediately ran along his wrist.

Sieghart looked down at the damage while the pain registered somewhere beneath Fury. It existed, but it simply did not matter very much compared with the heat driving through the rest of his body. Under ordinary circumstances, that injury would have been enough to make him reconsider punching metal with his bare hand. With Fury active, the pain felt more like an insult than a warning.

“That all?”

The Guardian answered by charging again. This time, Sieghart activated Protection before the creature’s fist reached him, allowing White Mana to wrap tightly around his body while Muscle Reinforcement remained active beneath it.

The Guardian’s right fist came forward, and Sieghart met it with his left. The second collision sounded even louder than the first, sending another violent impact rolling through the chamber. Protection flashed around his arm and absorbed enough force that Sieghart felt only a deep vibration traveling through his bones instead of the sharp cracking pain from the first exchange.

His shoulder still moved backward and his feet still slid, but far less than before. Sieghart stared at the Guardian from less than two meters away and immediately understood the difference.

That was better. Much better. The creature drew its other fist back, but Sieghart stepped inside its reach before the attack could finish and drove his right hand into the lower chest plate. Metal rang from the first impact, leaving a shallow dent across the surface. Sieghart hit the same spot again, and the second blow deepened the damage before the Guardian could adjust.

The Guardian swung downward, forcing Sieghart to shift left instead of retreating. The fist crashed beside him while another punch struck the dented chest plate, followed by another and another.

Each hit accomplished almost nothing by itself, but that did not matter. Sieghart could attack faster than the Guardian could recover, allowing small amounts of damage to accumulate before the construct could answer properly. The Guardian turned, and Sieghart moved with it. Its elbow came toward his head, but he ducked beneath the strike and drove both fists into the side of its abdomen, producing two heavy impacts that pushed the massive construct half a step sideways.

The Guardian attempted to stomp him. Impulse burst briefly beneath Sieghart’s feet, but rather than escaping across the chamber, he moved only far enough to avoid the descending leg.

The foot struck the ground, and Sieghart immediately returned. He punched the knee once, twice, then a third time, making the metal deform slowly beneath repeated impacts. The Guardian raised its opposite leg and kicked. Sieghart crossed both arms and let Protection flash around him before the impact launched him backward through the chamber.

He hit the floor shoulder-first, rolled once, and planted one hand against the stone before momentum could carry him farther. His injured knuckles touched the ground, sending pain surging through them. Sieghart grinned. That reaction bothered the part of his mind still capable of observing himself clearly, because Fury was definitely doing something to his judgment.

Not enough to make him lose control completely, but enough to make getting hurt feel exciting instead of concerning. The Guardian charged while he remained low, giving him no time to examine the feeling further.

Sieghart pushed off the ground and activated Impulse, accelerating forward until he met the construct halfway. Instead of striking its fist again, he slipped beneath the attack and drove his shoulder into the Guardian’s torso while both hands grabbed the edges of its chest plates. For one ridiculous moment, the ten-year-old boy disguised as a teenager tried physically pushing a five-meter dungeon Guardian backward. The Guardian stopped, but Sieghart did not.

Muscle Reinforcement tightened throughout his body while Fury made every muscle feel hotter, heavier, and far more willing to tear itself apart for another fraction of strength. His boots dug into the floor, and eventually the Guardian’s feet moved. Only slightly, but they still moved, proving that the difference between their bodies was no longer completely insurmountable.

“Come on!”

Sieghart released one chest plate and punched the opening beneath it. The Guardian tried grabbing him, but Sieghart twisted away from the closing fingers and delivered another punch into the same damaged section before the hand could return.

Metal cracked faintly, and that sound immediately became Sieghart’s target. He stopped thinking about the entire creature and focused completely upon one crack, one section, and the simple goal of breaking it. His fists became a continuous rhythm against the Guardian’s torso. Right, left, right, left. The first few attacks merely deepened existing dents, but the next several widened the crack.

Every time the Guardian attempted to strike back, Sieghart shifted inside the arc of its movement rather than giving up the distance he had earned. Its strength remained vastly greater than his own, but its reactions did not. The Guardian’s attacks were powerful because its entire metallic body committed behind them, and that same weight created tiny delays whenever it changed direction.

Fury made those delays feel enormous. Sieghart stepped around one fist and slammed his own into the Guardian’s ribs before the construct could properly reset its stance. The Guardian rotated, and Sieghart hit its spine. It backhanded him in response, forcing Protection to flash before the impact sent him flying several meters across the chamber.

Sieghart landed hard against one knee and was already moving again before the Guardian finished turning. Impulse sent him back into close range, where his fist struck the damaged chest immediately.

Metal buckled beneath the impact. The Guardian punched downward, but Sieghart shifted just enough for the fist to miss his head by centimeters before he grabbed the creature’s wrist with both hands. He pulled himself upward instead of retreating, hanging from the Guardian’s arm for half a second before his boots struck its elbow and launched his body toward the shoulder.

Sieghart landed against the Guardian’s upper body and immediately started punching the side of its neck. The first attack left almost nothing, but the next several created shallow indentations.

The Guardian reached upward, forcing Sieghart to jump before the fingers could close around him. He landed behind the construct and drove his fists into its back repeatedly. The Guardian spun violently. Sieghart ducked beneath one arm, but a second fist came from the opposite direction before he could completely reposition.

Protection took the hit. His entire body shook beneath the force, yet Sieghart remained standing instead of being launched across the room again. That seemed to surprise even him. The Guardian attacked again, and Sieghart stopped trying to avoid everything perfectly as the battle became increasingly brutal.

He began trading. One metallic fist struck his shoulder, and Sieghart’s right fist struck the chest in response before the Guardian could withdraw. The Guardian hit his side, and he answered with two punches against the damaged plate. A downward blow clipped the top of his head hard enough to make his vision flash white.

Sieghart staggered, then stepped forward again. The creature’s body accumulated damage slowly, but Sieghart’s accumulated damage too as the exchange continued. Blood spread across both hands now, mixing with dust and leaving red marks whenever his fists struck the metallic body. His arms hurt, his shoulders hurt, and his knees had already been sore before the battle began.

Fury converted all of it into background noise. That was dangerous, and Sieghart knew it, but he simply did not care enough while the spell remained active. The Guardian attempted another heavy punch. Sieghart caught the movement early, stepped outside the fist, and struck the elbow joint once, twice, then three times.

The metallic seam bent. Sieghart grabbed the forearm and pulled while kicking the damaged joint until something snapped and the lower arm came loose. The Guardian immediately tried recalling the severed limb using the same strange reassembly force Sieghart had observed in ordinary golems. Sieghart kicked it away, but the arm slid back anyway.

He punched the exposed node before it could reconnect. Metal shattered around the damaged point, and the detached limb finally stopped moving across the chamber floor.

“Better.”

The Guardian’s remaining fist came toward him, but Sieghart ducked beneath it and countered directly into the chest. This time, the damaged plate folded inward far enough for amber light to appear beneath it. The Guardian recoiled and crossed its remaining arm protectively across the torso. Sieghart saw the movement, recognized exactly what it protected, and immediately decided that nothing else mattered.

He attacked faster. The Guardian retreated for the first time, taking one enormous step backward while Sieghart followed without allowing it enough room to reset. Another punch struck the defending forearm, then another, then another. The Guardian tried sweeping him away, but Sieghart moved beneath the arm and slammed both fists into the chest.

The damaged plate sank farther inward. The construct staggered backward again, and Sieghart stayed against it while every punch forced another fraction of movement from its enormous body.

The Guardian’s feet scraped across the chamber floor as Sieghart drove forward. His fists became almost impossible to separate visually while each attack landed somewhere useful. One struck the ribs, another hit the chest, a third hammered the damaged shoulder, and a fourth returned to the chest before the Guardian could fully adjust.

Metal rang continuously through the chamber. The sound stopped resembling individual impacts and became one violent rhythm accompanying Sieghart’s advance. The Guardian struck back whenever possible, but each attack came later than the one before. Damage accumulated through its joints until one knee bent incorrectly and the remaining shoulder rotated more slowly.

The chest armor was almost gone, yet Sieghart kept punching. Several tons of dungeon metal were being driven across the chamber by a child whose hands looked like they had been dragged across broken glass. Fury burned hotter as the fight continued, and Sieghart felt the strange rage beneath every movement. It was not hatred toward the Guardian exactly, but something more basic and stubborn.

Refusal to be stopped. Refusal to retreat. Refusal to accept that something larger and physically stronger should automatically force him backward. That was the dangerous part, because the emotion felt good. Sieghart recognized that clearly enough to become uncomfortable somewhere beneath the aggression, but he still did not deactivate the spell.

Not yet. The Guardian raised its remaining fist for another overhead strike, and Sieghart stepped directly toward it instead of trying to create distance. The fist descended. Sieghart caught the wrist with both hands and planted his feet against the cracked floor.

His knees bent while the Guardian pressed downward. Sieghart pushed upward, his arms trembling as blood ran from his hands across the metallic wrist. He released the wrist and stepped through the opening. The exposed chest was directly in front of him, with amber light pulsing behind warped metal.

Sieghart punched. The final chest part cracked, so he punched again and split the damaged section farther before one more attack tore enough metal away for the core to become clearly visible.

It was large, amber, uncorrupted, and pulsing with every movement of the Guardian’s internal mana. Sieghart stopped punching immediately. The Guardian tried stepping backward, but Sieghart followed. Its remaining hand reached toward him while his right arm entered the chest cavity.

Metal scraped. The Guardian’s fingers closed around Sieghart’s shoulder, and he felt the pressure building as the construct tried crushing him. He pulled. Nothing happened. Sieghart planted one foot against the creature’s lower torso and pulled harder until the internal mana channels stretched around the core like glowing threads.

The Guardian squeezed his shoulder. Sieghart snarled and pulled again until the first mana connection snapped, followed by another.

The Guardian’s grip weakened. Sieghart used both hands, locked his fingers around the smooth core, pressed his foot harder against the metallic body, and pulled without hesitation. The core tore free. Every amber pathway inside the Guardian went dark simultaneously, and its hand released Sieghart immediately after losing the power holding its entire structure together.

The enormous body remained upright for one silent moment. Then the structure failed, beginning with the chest collapsing inward before the shoulder plates separated and the damaged knee folded.

Metallic limbs struck the floor while the Guardian’s magically expanded body began losing cohesion around him. Sieghart stepped backward as the creature crumbled into shrinking chunks of mineral material.

The once-massive torso collapsed into a compact pile of ore while detached pieces shrank toward their natural dimensions. Sieghart remained standing before the remains, breathing hard with both hands bleeding and both arms trembling.

The core rested between his palms. For several seconds, it continued pulsing weakly, then the light stopped and the chamber became quiet around him.

Sieghart stared at the dead Guardian while Fury continued burning through his body. He had won, but more importantly, he had learned something about the spell he had deliberately avoided using.

Close-range combat with Fury worked, perhaps too well. Sieghart looked down at his ruined knuckles and realized he had willingly exchanged punches with a metallic dungeon Guardian instead of using the far safer strategy he had planned before entering.

The pain was beginning to feel more noticeable now that there was nothing left to hit. That alone told him enough about what Fury had been doing to his judgment. Fury had not turned him into the uncontrollable monster he remembered from absorbing the Orc King’s core. It had still made terrible decisions feel extremely reasonable.

Sieghart slowly tightened his grip around the Guardian core while the last traces of aggression still burned beneath his skin.