Chapter 116: 2nd Attempt XV

The structural integrity of the fourth floor had been hanging by a thread after the earlier clashes, but Beaumont did the insane, he annihilated the very concept of stable ground, rewriting the geography of the arena into a nightmare of churning stone and raw elemental fury.

The Ironclad gave him no respite. Even as dust still settled from the previous exchange, the construct closed the ten-meter gap in a blistering blur of silver and violet. The air whistled around its frame as it accelerated. Beaumont, instincts honed by countless dungeon delves, tried to counter instantly. Amber sigils flared around his forearms as he thrust a localized stone wall upward from the fractured bedrock, a thick barrier of compressed granite meant to blunt the charge.

It wasn't enough. The golem was too fast, It vaulted the rising wall with contemptuous grace, its organic fluidity making the motion look almost effortless despite the earlier damage to its left blade-arm. The construct bypassed his guard completely, unleashing a brutal combination of high-velocity strikes. A heavy backhand, reinforced by surging violet mana, slammed into his remaining kinetic barrier like a siege ram. The translucent shield of earth-mana shattered in a spray of amber shards, the feedback jolting through Beaumont's arms and rattling his teeth. Before he could recover, a swift, piston-driven kick hammered into his midsection. The impact collided with his already battered defenses, aggravating the broken ribs from the prior clash. Agony lanced through his torso like hot spears, forcing a guttural grunt from his throat as the force lifted him off his feet and hurled him backward.

Beaumont skidded across the jagged remnants of the earlier domes, boots carving shallow trenches in the debris. Fresh blood welled in his mouth, metallic and warm. He wiped a thick streak from his chin with the back of his hand, smearing it across his mud-caked jaw. Through the haze of pain, a fierce, battle-hardened grin split his face. If I can’t catch you on the floor, he thought, hazel eyes blazing with unyielding defiance, I’ll take the floor away from you entirely.

He slammed both palms into the bedrock with earth-shaking force. The vast reservoir of primed mana he had channeled earlier, dumped deep into the stone before the Triple Prison Dome had even fully formed, responded like a slumbering titan awakening. Amber sigils erupted around his wrists in spinning cyclones of golden light, brighter and more intense than before, casting long, flickering shadows across the ruined chamber. The air grew thick with the scent of ozone and pulverized earth.

"Tectonic Deluge!" Beaumont roared, his voice raw and thunderous, carrying the weight of exhaustion-fueled fury and absolute command.

The entire fourth floor disintegrated. A cataclysmic surge of power ripped through the bedrock as if the planet itself had convulsed. The ground bucked violently, cracking and fracturing into countless jagged stones. What had once been solid arena floor transformed into a literal tidal wave of shattered bedrock, molten glass from earlier superheated impacts, and churning stone debris. The tsunami of earth roared upward with apocalyptic force, a stormy sea of rock that swallowed stability whole. Massive waves crashed and collided, some cresting higher than a man's head, others grinding against one another with the grinding roar of continental plates in collision. The air filled with the deafening cacophony of grinding stone, shattering rock, and the high-pitched whine of stressed metal as the environment turned against the Ironclad.

The construct stumbled in the fight, its pristine silver frame losing its footing on the suddenly treacherous surface. Its organic fluidity, so elegant moments before, proved useless against an arena that was actively rebelling. The golem was thrown into the air as a massive wave hurled it skyward, violet mana flaring desperately along its limbs in an attempt to stabilize. Chunks of debris pelted its plating, leaving new dents and scratches that marred it's surface.

Beaumont seized the chaos like a conductor wielding a symphony of destruction. Moving with the instincts of one born to the earth, he slipped through the churning ground waves like a seasoned swimmer navigating a savage riptide. His boots found momentary purchase on shifting platforms of stone, amber sigils pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat to anchor him. From this unstable vantage, he began firing reinforced javelin boulders with rapid-fire momentum. Drawing on the ambient debris, he shaped heavy, magic-infused rocks mid-air, each one dense as cannonballs and edged with crystalline sharpness. They hurtled toward the airborne golem in a relentless barrage.

The impacts landed with satisfying crunches. One boulder slammed into the construct's shoulder, denting the silver plating inward with a metallic groan. Another struck its chest, cracking the glowing violet circuits that webbed across its torso like enchanted veins. Violet sparks erupted with each hit, the golem's internal mechanisms whining in protest as Agatha's reinforcement fought to hold the frame together. The air grew thick with dust and the acrid tang of scorched metal.

But the Ironclad was no mindless automaton. Realizing the danger of a direct, futile pursuit through the maelstrom, it shifted tactics with terrifying calculation. Instead of fighting the current head-on, it began to leaps. With precise movements, the golem skipped across the rocky waves like a stone skimming turbulent waters. It leaped from one flying boulder to another, using the very debris Beaumont hurled as makeshift platforms. Its bladed arms sliced through smaller projectiles that came too close, deflecting them with showers of sparks while its legs coiled and released in perfect timing.

Beaumont tracked its movements from the troughs of the flowing stone waves, his breath coming in ragged bursts. Sweat stung his eyes, mixing with blood and grime. You're fast, he thought, mind racing even as pain throbbed in his ribs with every motion. But you're predictable, and I see you.

The golem spotted his position amid the chaos and committed to a final, decisive downward attack. It swooped in a steep, spinning arc, its damaged left blade-arm humming with renewed high-frequency vibration, violet mana compensating for the earlier rust damage. The air whistled sharply as it descended like a silver meteor.

Beaumont's grin returned, feral and joyful despite the torment wracking his body. He clamped his hands together, the amber sigils flaring to blinding intensity. With a sharp, commanding twist of his wrists, he activated the ultimate trap hidden within the Deluge. The spell instantly reversed the kinetic flow of the shattered ground. What had been chaotic upheaval snapped backward with immense gravitational force, the stone waves collapsing inward like the jaws of an ancient earth elemental. The entire maelstrom converged in a cataclysmic vice, burying both Beaumont and the golem under hundreds of tons of solid, compressed earth in a single, crushing instant.

The vast chamber fell into an eerie, ringing silence. The stone waves froze solid, the roar of moving earth replaced by the faint creak of settling debris and the distant hum of the overhead electrical lamps. Dust hung heavy in the air, a choking veil that obscured everything.

For long, agonizing seconds, nothing moved. Then, a section of the compressed dirt shifted near the edge of the newly formed mound. Beaumont erupted from the ground like a creature clawing free from a primordial sea of mud. He broke the surface with a gasp, collapsing onto one knee amid the rubble. His chest heaved violently, lungs burning as he sucked in the relatively cleaner air. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his broken ribs screamed with every inhale. Mud, ash, and sweat caked his entire frame, turning his clothes into a second, filthy skin. Yet his amber sigils still burned steadily, fueled by the unyielding reservoir of earth mana that defined him as the Earth-born.

The silence shattered abruptly. The ground beneath him began to tremble, a low rumble that rapidly escalated into a deafening roar. With a violent, explosive blast that sent shockwaves rippling outward, the Ironclad burst free from the solid earth. Its silver frame emerged battered and caked in grime, deep gouges marring its plating and faint cracks spiderwebbing across its violet-glowing core. Dust and stone fragments cascaded off its form, but the enchanted magic within refused to dim. The construct's movements retained that eerie, predatory fluidity, now laced with a more calculated menace.

Instead of panic or hesitation, Beaumont threw his head back and laughed aloud, a deep, genuine sound that echoed through the ruined floor. "Such a mystery!" he shouted, his voice hoarse but filled with exhilarated focus. His hazel eyes burned with concentrated resolve. "I never thought you'd actually make it through that."

He flared his arms out wide to his sides, amber energy crackling along his limbs. "But I've been waiting...waiting to put an end to it all!"

A joyful, predatory smile broke through the mud streaking his face, revealing teeth stained with blood. The golem didn't hesitate. The moment its metallic feet found purchase on the newly solidified stone, it sprinted forward with lethal intent, closing the distance in a blur of silver and violet fury.

Beaumont stretched his right arm straight forward, palm open. Warm amber sigil circles materialized instantly in front of his hand, intricate patterns spinning with geometric precision. The exact same amber sigils flared brightly within his hazel eyes, linking his will directly to the earth itself. The golem abruptly halted mid-stride, as if slammed by an invisible mountain. Its joints locked up with a grinding metallic protest, limbs freezing in place as Beaumont’s overwhelming earth magic, controlled the minerals inside it.

"Just think..." Beaumont yelled, his voice booming with dramatic flair as he paused for a single, tension-filled second. A massive boulder manifested from the ambient mana and debris before him, rapidly shaping itself under his command into a spinning, perfectly streamlined javelin. Its surface compressed further, structural density transforming into ultra-hard, diamond-like stone that gleamed with lethal sharpness. "...don't you know who you're up against?!"

The javelin spun with terrifying velocity, humming in the air. "It is I... Beaumont!" He thrust his arm forward with explosive force. "...The Earth-born!"

The projectile fired like a cannon shot, a speeding bullet of condensed earth magic. It struck the frozen golem dead-center with cataclysmic impact. The force drove the construct violently backward, slamming it into the ground and carving a massive, deep crater into the already ruined floor. The explosion of displaced air and stone sent debris flying in every direction, the shockwave rattling the remaining walls and causing loose rubble to cascade from the ceiling.

Smoke and dust billowed upward as the javelin embedded itself, its energy dissipating in a final burst of amber light. As the haze thinned, the Ironclad slowly pushed itself upright from the bottom of the smoking crater. Its limbs groaned audibly under the structural damage, new dents deformed its torso, and the violet circuits flickered erratically. Yet it rose slowly unto its feet.

Beaumont advanced to the very edge of the pit, his right arm still extended, the humming amber magic circle maintaining its hold and severely halting the golem's attempts to move. With his left arm, a second, complementary sigil bloomed into existence, more intricate and binding than the first. "Geo-Shackles!" he commanded.

He channeled a fresh surge of mana into the crater. Glowing, jagged vines made of dense crystal and reinforced stone erupted directly beneath the golem, shooting upward like striking vipers. They pierced straight into the gaps and joints of the metallic skin with merciless precision, wrapping tightly around its limbs. The crystalline tendrils grew rapidly, calcifying into heavy, glowing shackles that anchored the construct permanently to the bedrock. The Ironclad thrashed, violet energy flaring in protest, but the earth magic held firm, sapping its mobility with unyielding pressure.

Using an earth-leap,a sudden surge of mana that propelled him upward and backward. Beaumont launched his weary frame across the room. He landed heavily near the far corner walls, boots scraping for balance as fresh pain lanced through his battered body. "Now, to finish this!" he roared, slamming both hands down onto the ground with finality. "Magma Pool!"

The ground beneath the shackled golem transformed instantly. It glowed a bright, ominous cherry-red, smoke billowing furiously as temperatures skyrocketed. A massive fissure cracked open with a thunderous groan, revealing a churning, swirling river of molten rock beneath. The magma welled upward into a violent vortex, its heat distorting the air and filling the chamber with the suffocating stench of sulfur and superheated stone. The heavily weighted, crystal-shackled opponent was dragged downward into the liquid fire, the molten rock lapping hungrily at its frame.

The Ironclad struggled with violent desperation. Driven by the enchanted core's frantic reinforcement, violet mana blazed like a star. It managed to snap its right arm free from the calcified shackles in a shower of crystal fragments, reaching upward out of the lava with clawing fingers. The heat warped its silver plating.

"Not while I'm still here!" Beaumont roared, his voice echoing with raw defiance. He raised both arms toward the vast, vaulted ceiling above the pit. Massive amber sigils bloomed across the roof in intricate, glowing patterns that lit the chamber like a second sun. His entire frame began to shake violently from the immense physical strain of the pull and the crushing weight of his deep exhaustion. Sweat poured off his skin in rivulets, stinging his eyes and mixing with the blood on his face. Muscles quivered and burned, his broken ribs protesting with every labored breath, but he refused to yield.

With a titanic effort, he ripped a vast, devastating lump of the ceiling slab entirely free. The massive section of reinforced stone and dungeon architecture tore away with a deafening crack, plummeting downward with unyielding, crushing force. The struggling golem was completely pressed down into the depths of the roaring magma pool by the slab's weight. A cataclysmic shockwave erupted on impact, throwing up a dense, blinding wall of dust, debris, steam, and smoke that spread rapidly, obscuring the entire pit in a thick, lingering haze.

Exhausted beyond measure, Beaumont collapsed, sitting heavily on the ground. His body gave out as he gasped for air, chest rising and falling in ragged spasms. Sweat shimmered on his skin in the dim, flickering light of the surviving electrical lamps, his bloodshot hazel eyes locked onto the smoking haze ahead. Every muscle battled, every breath was fire, but he watched with unbreaking focus, waiting to see if its finally over.