Infinite Mana - Chapter 222: Something Watching (Patreon)

Sieghart left the weapon shop considerably lighter than when he entered. The merchant had purchased most of the modified goblin weapons, several intact shields, spare armor pieces, and enough miscellaneous equipment that the carriage finally stopped resembling a moving junk warehouse.

In exchange, Sieghart bought the Recall Disc Launcher, the Bonded Arsenal Greatblade, and the Mana Bolt Gauntlet. Even after subtracting their prices, he still walked away with a respectable amount of coin because the enchanted goblin equipment sold surprisingly well.

He deliberately kept the Goblin Champion’s cleaver and massive shield. Both were too unusual to sell without understanding what made them durable, and the possibility that their materials or forging methods contained something valuable outweighed the inconvenience of storing them.

Removing everything else felt wonderful. Sieghart had accumulated so much gear from dungeons, merchants, and experiments that finding one specific tool inside the carriage occasionally required moving three completely unrelated piles first. The new purchases immediately tempted him to start disassembling them on the nearest table. Instead, Sieghart decided that examining dormant runes would teach less than watching the enchantments operate under real conditions.

He wanted to see the returning effect in action. Magic Vision had already shown him that the Recall enchantments behaved differently from Telekinesis, and that distinction interested him far more than the weapons themselves.

The shopkeeper had allowed a controlled demonstration before completing the sale. Sieghart had watched the disc leave the launcher, cut through a hanging practice target, travel several meters farther, and then curve smoothly back toward the weapon. There had been no visible mana hand, no continuously adjusted directional pressure, and none of the mental strain Sieghart associated with moving an object through Telekinesis. The disc had simply known where it was supposed to return.

The Bonded Arsenal Greatblade behaved similarly. Detached sections could be thrown, allowed to move independently for several seconds, and then recalled toward the central weapon without the wielder guiding every centimeter of their path.

That felt much closer to magical attraction than object manipulation. Sieghart was not certain whether the underlying principle resembled magnetism, sympathetic binding, spatial anchoring, or something entirely different, but he was increasingly certain it was not Psionics.

That opened several practical possibilities immediately. A weapon could be thrown without being abandoned, tools could automatically return to designated storage points, and detachable carriage components could reconnect themselves after maintenance instead of requiring Sieghart to crawl underneath the vehicle.

Combat applications were even better. He could launch metal projectiles and pull them back for repeated attacks, recall dropped weapons during close combat, or force several blades to orbit a central anchor without maintaining constant Telekinetic control over each one. If the attraction could be reversed or redirected, the possibilities became more ridiculous. Sieghart might eventually repel metallic projectiles, yank weapons from enemy hands, pull armored opponents off balance, or pin someone against a metal surface by making their equipment suddenly attract it.

The effect might also solve one of his carriage problems. A distributed attraction system could hold cargo in place during high-speed movement, stabilize removable armor panels, or keep future flying components attached without relying entirely on physical locks. Sieghart smiled as he imagined combining it with the metal ammunition he had used inside the golem dungeon. A single anchor could potentially recall every projectile after impact, turning scattered battlefield debris into a reusable cloud of weapons.

“That would save a ridiculous amount of effort. Telekinesis works, but controlling twenty pieces at once eventually feels like someone is squeezing my brain. If the weapons can handle the return themselves, that becomes much easier.”

He still needed to determine what the enchantment actually was before fantasizing too far ahead. Blindly calling it Magnetic Magic because the behavior looked familiar would be exactly the kind of assumption magic enjoyed punishing. Sieghart stored the three weapons carefully instead of dismantling them immediately. He wanted an open area later, preferably somewhere outside town, where he could repeatedly fire and recall the components while observing every part of the mana pattern through Magic Vision.

That experiment could wait until after shopping. He had already spent enough money on weapons to justify checking whether the town’s bookstores contained anything equally useful, especially while he still possessed more coin than expected. The thought was slightly ridiculous. Sieghart already had more magic types than he could train properly, several spells remained embarrassingly low level, and new branches kept creating additional experiments faster than he could complete the old ones.

He still wanted more, which was becoming a problem. Every new branch created another list of experiments, yet the knowledge that something unfamiliar might be sitting on the next shelf remained almost impossible for Sieghart to ignore.

“At this rate, I’m going to unlock Greed Magic before I even find a corrupted core for it. The System will probably look at my shopping habits and decide I’ve demonstrated enough practical understanding without needing the core.”

The joke became less funny when Sieghart remembered how Sin Magic seemed to reward indulging the relevant concept. He had no idea whether obsessively collecting spells could actually influence Greed, but testing that possibility intentionally sounded like a terrible plan.

He entered the largest bookstore he could find near the center of the shopping district. Most shelves contained mundane subjects, but the selection was still far broader than what smaller towns usually offered.

Sieghart searched through magical theory first. Unfortunately, most of the books covered subjects he already possessed: elemental fundamentals, reinforcement, beginner healing, common enchanting patterns, basic summoning structures, and several extremely expensive texts that contained suspiciously little practical information.

He almost left empty-handed until a thick historical volume caught his attention. The title promised a comprehensive history of the surviving human territories, including the formation of the modern borders and the major losses preceding the current era.

Sieghart bought it without much hesitation. He had spent years learning magic while possessing embarrassingly little understanding of how the world had become divided into human territory, border regions, Fallen lands, and the areas people simply called Lost. He did not expect complete honesty. Histories written inside human territory would naturally describe human victories, defeats, enemies, and territorial claims from a human perspective, especially if governments or noble families had influenced which records survived.

Still, biased information was better than ignorance as long as Sieghart remembered the bias existed. Names, dates, wars, migrations, lost cities, and major political changes could give him enough structure to identify which parts required independent verification later.

The magical shelves offered only one book that genuinely interested him. Its cover was plain, its price surprisingly reasonable, and the title immediately made Sieghart stop searching through the surrounding volumes.

Contract Magic was written across the cover in simple lettering. Sieghart opened the book and skimmed several pages, discovering a discipline centered on magically recognized agreements, conditions, exchanges, obligations, and bonds formed between willing participants through structured mana.

That alone created dozens of possibilities. Contracts could potentially formalize agreements with summoned creatures, establish rules with intelligent magical beasts, define temporary service conditions, or prevent a familiar from simply deciding that obedience was optional. Sieghart had wanted familiars for a long time. His dislike of depending on other people made Summoning attractive, but simple Mana Swords and Mana Shields were not companions capable of scouting, guarding the carriage, fighting independently, or warning him while he slept.

Contract Magic might finally provide a route toward something more permanent. If he could bind agreements with summoned creatures or tame magical animals without reducing them to mindless servants, that would solve several practical problems at once.

A familiar could keep watch while Sieghart slept. Another creature might scout dungeons ahead of him, carry messages, detect enemies, or assist in combat without requiring Sieghart to divide his attention between every movement. He bought the book immediately and added it to the growing stack under one arm. By the time Sieghart left the store, he had spent more money than planned but gained something with enough potential to justify the expense.

By the time Sieghart returned toward the alley where he had parked, his purchases included three unusual weapons, one thick history volume, the Contract Magic text, several smaller supplies, and less coin than he had possessed that morning.

He considered that a successful shopping trip, although the possibility that Greed Magic might consider it practical training remained unpleasantly difficult to dismiss. The joke still was not nearly as funny as he wanted it to be. Sieghart opened the carriage and began packing everything properly. The history book went beside his other references, Contract Magic remained within easy reach, and the new weapons received enough space that none would activate accidentally during travel.

He had just finished securing the Recall Disc Launcher when something felt wrong, causing his hands to pause for only a fraction of a second before continuing the motion as though nothing unusual had happened.

Nothing obvious had changed around him. The alley remained quiet, distant market noise continued normally, and nobody stood close enough to the carriage to justify immediate concern, yet the uncomfortable sensation refused to disappear.

It was not Magic Vision warning him about mana. It was not Enhanced Smell detecting something unusual. Sieghart simply felt the uncomfortable certainty that someone had been watching him for longer than coincidence could explain.

He kept his posture relaxed and continued adjusting one storage strap as though nothing had happened. His eyes stayed on the carriage while his attention shifted toward reflections in polished metal, windows, rooftops, and the alley entrance. No obvious observer appeared, which only made Sieghart more suspicious. Someone careless would have been easy to notice, while someone competent would wait patiently for him to reveal that he had noticed them.

Sieghart tightened the final strap, closed the compartment, and rested one hand casually against the carriage while mana began moving beneath his skin. Shopping was apparently finished, and the next problem had already arrived.

Now he needed to discover who had been shopping for information about him, why they had chosen to follow him, and whether this was connected to his purchases, the dungeon, or something considerably more troublesome.