198 Underground Ruins
Digging through the earth, advancing deep beneath the surface.
Ahead, a layer emerges with a texture unmistakably different from anything previously encountered.
It was clearly not natural—definitely artificial.
Attempting earth magic yields no response.
Earth magic, despite its name, affects a broad range of materials.
Whether soil or metal, any substantial solid object can be manipulated through its application.
That is why Alaba can construct makeshift bridges on the spot, and why I can dig through the ground with ease.
The wall beneath my feet repelled the earth magic.
This indicates resistance to magical effects.
Using intellect to analyze the wall’s details.
‘Identification impossible.’
Not entirely unexpected, but the wall could not be analyzed.
Resistance to magic is confirmed. Breaking it with magic is likely ineffective.
But to say it could be broken by sheer strength—possible, perhaps, but the outcome upon doing so is unknown.
No choice left, I resort to using detection to map the entirety of this underground facility.
Failed.
Detection penetrates to some extent, but the hollow areas within blur, and the detection function does not activate properly.
A jammer is active.
A problem—no, worse than that. Quite serious.
If the jammer originates from the wall, it would be manageable. But if some form of magic is being activated within, then this underground facility is effectively alive.
That is a critical issue.
Should I alert others?
But I have no means of communication.
Only option left: proceed inside.
Detection identified what appears to be an entrance to the facility.
I move along the wall, digging a passage, advancing toward that entrance.
A square space, approximately five meters on each side, appears within the fractured wall—filled with earth.
Though, naturally, it is entirely buried in soil.
I clear the earth using magic.
A door emerges.
The door is constructed of heavy metal, designed to slide open horizontally on both sides.
No handles are present.
Of course not.
It is clearly not from the same civilization as those above.
It was clearly engineered to open automatically.
The square space was likely once an elevator.
I place my hand on a door out of place in this fantasy world.
The door, buried in soil for an extended period, does not open automatically.
I have no choice but to push it open manually.
Heavy.
Only my status allows me to open it, but this is absurdly heavy.
Yet such thoughts fade quickly.
Beyond the door, forcibly pried open.
A dim green emergency light.
Illuminated by its glow, the underground facility slowly emerges into view.
Well, I have Dark Vision, so I can see.
But there, placed before me, was something unbelievable.
A humanoid construct, approximately two meters tall.
In simple terms, a robot.
One built with remarkably advanced technology.
They were lined up in rows along both walls.
No way.
I expected this?
I did, but—what kind of fantasy world has robots?
And these robots, clearly combat models—thank you very much!
Worst of all, they are still active.
Evidence: the robots begin to power up, accompanied by a piercing silent alarm.
A voice also plays, synchronized with the siren—but unfortunately, it is not in the language I learned from the Queen's knowledge, so its meaning remains unknown.
Probably just an announcement like "intruder detected, initiating countermeasures."
Intruder. That is, me.
I will be intercepted.
Damn it.
The robot stands up.
It is a quadrupedal machine.
Four arms extend from its frame.
Two of them mimic human limbs, but the other two terminate in weapons—swords fused with guns, mounted at the fingertips.
Dual sword, dual gun?
The standard arms also grip massive-caliber firearms.
Four guns?
No head. Instead, a small cannon is mounted on the front.
Five guns?
About a hundred such machines.
"About" because the facility’s intelligence systems are malfunctioning—unable to activate properly.
The detection jamming does not originate from the walls. Rather, it is caused by magical interference generated within the building itself.
Attempting to activate magic results in failure—construction disrupted as if by interference.
Something's wrong.
The situation is dire.
As long as I remain here, I cannot use my skills at all.
Reliance is possible only in straightforward melee combat.
Magical interference—true to its name—is a phenomenon that hinders the activation of magic.
Magic cannot be used.
And most of the skills were, in fact, magic.
A skill is essentially a magical ability simplified and assisted through the system's power, making its activation straightforward.
It is a manifestation of the soul's power of the skill's bearer, shaped into an easily comprehensible form.
Whether thread or poison, all were products of magic.
And that naturally includes resistance.
Physical nullification, as I possess it.
This entity maintains a protective barrier around their body at all times, specifically resistant to powerful physical attacks.
I am not the one personally nullifying physical attacks.
Moreover, even if labeled as nullified, if struck with force exceeding the barrier's defense, damage still passes through.
If hit with full force by an alien from the planet of super vegetables, I would be reduced to splinters.
Resistance is a magic spell that perpetually activates both the defensive barrier and neutralization function against a specific attack.
Since it is a magic spell, it is naturally affected by magic interference. Currently, I am in a state with no resistance whatsoever.
Furthermore, my stats are augmented by magic spells: body reinforcement and damage resistance.
Attack power is merely enhanced muscle strength via magic.
Speed is achieved by increasing the corresponding muscle strength.
This operates internally, so magic interference has only minor impact.
Not that the impact is insignificant.
In contrast, defense is effective only internally. The surface skin is directly vulnerable to magical interference.
Thus, a single layer of thin skin is nearly defenseless.
Internal integrity remains intact for now, but once the outer layer peels away, defense drops at that point.
Pierce through, and eventually, a fatal wound will occur.
Peeling away layer by layer—what kind of torment is this?
One hundred robotic soldiers versus me, lacking skills and under status debuff.
Ah... this is seriously bad.