Infinite Mana - Chapter 201: The Red Waves Below (Thank you for your support, Jyan91!) (Patreon)

Sieghart eventually lost track of how long he had been inside the dungeon. Without sunlight, regular meals, or other explorers passing through, time became little more than another measurement he had stopped paying enough attention to.

What he did know was that his head hurt, his throat felt dry, and he had spent an unreasonable amount of time smashing metallic golems with the compressed remains of other metallic golems.

The enormous mineral mass floating beside him had changed repeatedly during the descent. Pieces broke away during collisions, new fragments were compressed into the structure, and valuable ores were occasionally removed whenever Sieghart noticed something worth preserving.

At this point, calling it a weapon felt generous. It resembled a gigantic malformed lump of overlapping mineral plates held together through pressure, deformation, and Sieghart’s increasingly exhausted Telekinesis. It was beautifully.

Another metallic golem charged from a side passage, raising both reinforced arms as though several tons of floating debris rushing toward its face could somehow be blocked through determination.

Sieghart barely looked toward it. The mineral mass changed direction. A thunderous impact echoed through the tunnel when the improvised weapon slammed into the construct’s upper body, drove it backward, and pinned it against the wall.

Sieghart pulled the mass away before rotating it vertically and dropping it directly onto the golem’s shoulders. The metallic body collapsed under the second impact, exposing the amber core through several fractured plates. Water Jet finished the job.

The golem became motionless while its expanded body began shrinking toward the actual amount of material used to create it. Sieghart rubbed one temple and stared at the remains.

“Another one.”

He could no longer remember whether that made sixty, eighty, or considerably more since leaving the reconstructed Guardian chamber. Counting had stopped feeling useful somewhere around the point where his headache started pulsing with every sharp Telekinetic movement. The deeper floors contained absurd numbers of constructs. Some arrived alone, others traveled in groups, and occasionally Sieghart turned a corner only to discover an entire passage filled with amber-lit bodies already moving toward him.

Normally, that would have forced a retreat. Infinite Mana turned it into repetitive work.

Sieghart kept the giant mineral mass moving while using Water Jet whenever precision mattered, and the dungeon gradually became covered in broken golem remains that he no longer possessed enough patience to organize properly.

The constant fighting provided another benefit.

Cores.

Sieghart absorbed enough ordinary cores during the descent that System notifications eventually interrupted the headache more than once, giving him exactly the resource his Telekinesis desperately needed.

[ Level Increased: 15 → 16]

Several fights later, another notification followed.

[ Level Increased: 16 → 17]

Sieghart did not spend the new free points on Magic. That decision alone showed how badly his priorities had changed.

He placed the available points into Mentality instead, strengthening the parameter responsible for concentration, mental control, and sustaining complicated magical structures without making his brain feel like someone had inserted a metal spike behind his eyes.

The improvement was noticeable almost immediately. The headache did not disappear, but the pressure weakened enough that Sieghart could redirect the enormous mineral mass without needing several seconds afterward to recover his thoughts.

That was useful. It was also slightly concerning. He had started increasing a permanent attribute specifically because his preferred dungeon-cleaning method involved telekinetically swinging several tons of compressed monster corpses through underground corridors. Sieghart decided not to examine that sentence too carefully.

“At least it works.”

The next floor proved that statement several more times.

Sieghart crushed two golems against each other, used the combined wreckage to strike a third, then compressed the new remains into the larger mass once everything valuable had been removed.

His control continued improving through sheer repetition. Instead of moving the entire weapon as one blunt object, he began rotating it during impacts, allowing jagged metallic sections to concentrate more force along smaller areas.

That increased damage considerably. It also increased the mental strain. By the time Sieghart reached another descending passage, his eyes felt sore even without Magic Vision active, and the pressure behind his forehead had returned despite the additional Mentality.

He finally lowered the enormous weapon onto the floor. The impact made the tunnel shake.

“Break.”

Sieghart sat against the wall and drank slowly instead of emptying his flask immediately. His body needed water, his brain needed rest, and his knees still disliked everything Impulse had done to them earlier.

He ate something as well, though dungeon rations had become increasingly unpleasant after several days of traveling with access to actual markets and freshly prepared food. Once his breathing settled, Sieghart checked the new dungeon map and immediately found the problem.

There was no detailed map this deep. Only estimated floors, old expedition notes, and warnings that the layout beyond the first Guardian changed regularly enough that precise routes became unreliable.

Sieghart looked at the surrounding walls. At least finding the next Guardian did not require much navigation. The dungeon eventually announced it for him. Sieghart noticed the first change before reaching the chamber itself. Mana in the surrounding stone became denser, flowing downward in slow currents that gradually shifted from ordinary amber and colorless patterns toward something darker.

Then he saw red.

Not concentrated inside a core. Not hidden behind armor. Faint red waves drifted directly through the air. Sieghart stopped walking. Magic Vision strengthened immediately. The effect became much clearer.

Thin crimson distortions moved through the chamber ahead like heat rising from invisible fire, occasionally passing through the walls before returning toward some central point farther inside. Sieghart’s exhaustion disappeared beneath caution.

“Corruption…”

He had not seen anything like that around the reconstructed first Guardian. That creature had been clean. Completely clean. Yet deeper inside the dungeon, corruption was already concentrated heavily enough that traces leaked directly into the surrounding environment.

Sieghart frowned and followed one faint red current with Magic Vision until it vanished beyond the next passage.

A very unpleasant possibility formed. The first corrupted Guardian had died. The dungeon reconstructed it without corruption. Then Sieghart descended farther and found corruption gathering around the next Guardian.

“What if it moved?”

He did not like that thought at all. Perhaps the corruption was not tied permanently to one core. Maybe destroying a host forced whatever principle contaminated it to escape deeper into the dungeon, searching for another construct capable of containing the energy.

If that was true, Aldren’s group had not actually removed the corruption. They had merely displaced it. Sieghart remembered the shattered dark-red core. The corruption disappeared almost immediately afterward.

At the time, he assumed destroying the core had eliminated whatever unnatural influence existed inside it.

Now he wondered whether the energy had simply gone somewhere else.

“That would be extremely annoying.”

There were other possibilities. The dungeon might contain multiple corrupted Guardians independently. Something deeper could continuously contaminate reconstructed bosses. The red waves might originate from an entirely separate source rather than the next Guardian itself.

Sieghart lacked enough evidence to choose between them. That meant he needed more evidence. Naturally, that evidence was waiting behind something probably larger and considerably stronger than the Guardian he had just punched to death.

Sieghart sat down again. For once, curiosity did not convince him to immediately enter the chamber. He needed rest first. His Mentality had improved, but hours of continuous Telekinesis still left his concentration strained. Both hands had healed after the Fury experiment, yet the memory of his previous injuries remained fresh enough to discourage stupidity temporarily.

He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. That did not help relaxation.

If the corruption truly moved between Guardians, fighting carelessly could repeat the same problem. Kill the host. Corruption escapes. Another Guardian changes. Monster production increases again. Then Sieghart would spend several more floors chasing something he could not actually destroy. He needed a way to prevent the corruption from escaping.

The obvious solution was taking the core intact. That had worked with the clean Guardian.

He had physically ripped the core free before destroying it, preventing the internal structure from shattering and scattering mana throughout the chamber. If the next Guardian possessed a corrupted core, Sieghart could attempt the same thing.

Disable the body.

Expose the core. Remove it intact. Then decide what to do before the corruption dispersed. Absorbing it immediately sounded dangerous. Holding a corrupted Guardian core in his hands while thinking carefully sounded equally questionable.

Still, fighting alone offered one major advantage over the previous expedition. No witnesses. Sieghart could use every spell he possessed.

Fire.

Ice.

Lightning.

Poison.

Illusions.

Telekinesis.

Protection.

Mana Barrier.

Even Fury if absolutely necessary, though his recent experiment had lowered his enthusiasm for using that solution casually. Nobody would ask why the young merchant knew eleven different magical disciplines.

Nobody would see the System notifications. Nobody would accidentally smash the core because they understandably preferred killing the enormous monster before asking Sieghart whether he wanted to perform another dangerous experiment.

This time, he controlled the fight. That meant preventing the corruption from escaping might actually be possible. Sieghart opened his eyes. The red waves were still there. Another question followed immediately.

How strong would the Guardian be?

The first corrupted Guardian had been significantly stronger than its clean replacement. Its Experience value had effectively confirmed that difference after Sieghart absorbed both cores.

The next floor should already contain a stronger Guardian naturally. Corruption would increase that strength again. Sieghart stared toward the passage.

“Am I ready for that?”

The reasonable answer was probably no. He was tired. His concentration had already been pushed hard. His Mentality had only recently increased. He had no information about what abilities the next Guardian possessed. There was also no group of Aura users available to absorb attacks while Sieghart remained safely behind them making observations.

Leaving would be sensible. He could return to camp. Sleep properly. Gather information. Improve Barrier Magic. Increase Mentality further. Maybe find another party. Then come back with preparation specifically aimed at the corrupted Guardian.

Sieghart considered that option seriously. For approximately ten seconds. Then he looked at the red waves again. If the corruption could move, leaving might allow it to spread somewhere else before he returned. If it increased monster production like the previous host, the dungeon population could start climbing again.

More importantly, retreating simply because victory was uncertain felt wrong for another reason. Sieghart had spent most of his life preparing because he hated being powerless. Preparation mattered. Caution mattered. Knowing when to leave mattered. But only fighting battles where victory was already guaranteed would teach him almost nothing about what happened when planning failed.

There was a difference between being cautious and refusing every meaningful risk.

Sieghart had no intention of becoming reckless enough to charge everything stronger than himself.

He also refused to become someone who needed certainty before taking one step forward.

He slowly stood. His headache had weakened. His breathing felt normal. The giant compressed mineral weapon still rested behind him, ugly enough that Sieghart almost felt embarrassed calling it part of a magical strategy.

He lifted it with Telekinesis. The pressure behind his eyes returned slightly. Manageable. Sieghart rolled his shoulders, checked Protection, and activated Magic Vision fully. Faint red currents drifted toward the chamber ahead.

“Ready?”

He considered the question.

“Probably not.”

That felt honest enough. Sieghart started walking. There was no point only picking fights he already knew he could win. Sometimes the useful part was discovering whether he had any business winning at all.