I almost hissed with frustration as the bad-thing slipped away again, falling through once-solid stone with unsettling ease. I would have, if I had control over my own body. It was frustrating, to see victory slip away again.
Still, Needle - and a few other followers, too - lived this time; that was some victory, if not the true victory that I wanted. More importantly, I didn’t think that it was over. Through Needle’s ears, I could hear the sound of stone fracturing again and again. Unlike the bad-thing’s escape during my last false-life, it wasn’t moving any further away.
It was staying in place, destroying stone beneath the surface. Maybe it was frustration, or rage, or something else. It didn’t matter.
Either way, I knew it meant that the fight might not be over yet; it hadn’t left.
Needle, however, did.
The injured Coreless turned back around and left, her still-healing legs locked into a limping stride, each new step forcing a hiss to burst from between gritted teeth. I went with her, helpless to do anything else. She didn’t know that I was there, and there was no way to turn her back.
I sent another command to the nearby roots, urging them to continue guarding the nest in my absence. They wouldn’t be as effective without my conscious direction, but there wasn’t much else that I could do. That done, I threw my senses back towards my own body.
The change was as disorienting as ever. Touch came first, the feeling of fingers brushing against scale-flesh. Soon after, the scent-taste of the Core’s lair flooded in, a combination of old blood and overwhelming plant-flesh that mingled together on my tongue. Sound and sight quickly followed.
“...think something happened? He’s not moving at all.” The-female-who-was-not-Needle hissed at the others in a series of mangled noises, visibly [worried] by my mind’s absence. I twitched, flexing my coiled scale-flesh where it lay across her arm, and she let out a breath tinged with [relief]. She must have picked me up at some point.
Looking around, I noticed that things seemed to mostly be the same. The Grateful One and Will had freed both The Unrepentant One and the-female-who-was-not-Needle from the control of the bad-things. Some things had changed, but that wasn’t surprising; the timing wasn’t exact. Before, The Unrepentant One had still been stripping the dead Coreless of her ore-flesh. That had already happened, and The Grateful One was almost entirely covered in stolen bits of flesh, with only a few remaining pieces left to take.
Ignoring the mental fatigue that always came with using my connection to a [Little Guardian’s Totem] so heavily, I quickly removed the spore-roots that were infecting Will. The Coreless’ following praise was appreciated but ignored. I had heard it before and, if I went too slowly, I knew that I might hear it again. With that in mind, I selflessly ignored the sounds of well-deserved praise, moving on to the next step.
Getting back to the [Little Guardian’s Focus].
Erik’s fist clenched and unclenched again and again, the movements so controlled - so voluntary - that it was soothing. It had been strange and uncomfortable, to be under the control of the Little Guardian; less uncomfortable than when the mist had control, to be sure, but still not something that he would ever enjoy. It was something that he could bear, but far from something that he would ever seek out.
Still, it worked. That was all that mattered. Despite that, he couldn’t help but hope that it was a one-time occurrence. With the Core defeated, the mists would be less of a danger. Elara’s resistance to the effects would allow her to sweep through the mists in search of the fungi that formed them with little trouble, something that she was already in the process of doing.
They couldn’t just leave the victims inside, especially with the injuries Erik and Elara had inflicted on them in their haste. The newborn Seeker hadn’t hesitated to volunteer to gather and heal them while the others moved on, secure in the knowledge that there was little left in the mists to challenge her, what with the armor that had been liberated from the fallen woman.
In the meantime, Erik and the others had another job. Kala had been right to worry; something had attacked the Guildhall in their absence. According to the Little Guardian’s illusions, the attackers had mostly been defeated - bar the most dangerous of them. That one, apparently, would be a problem.
The sight of such a powerful Ascended was unmistakable, as were the constant tremors that it was still somehow creating.
Immediately after warning the group, the snake had slithered away. Then, in a surprising turn of events, the giant tree that towered over so much of the city had begun to creak and quiver. A nearby root began to break the surface with the sound of fractured stone and splintered bark, familiar lines of gold and blue marking its surface. Before long, it had twisted upon itself unnaturally, contorting in an almost sickening manner - and one that clearly damaged the root immensely. With a series of cracks and crunches, the tip of a root came around to meet them.
They clambered on, following the Little Guardian’s direction. Inhuman as their guide was, he had more than proven his trustworthiness.
That didn’t make the ride any easier; as durable as he was, Erik wasn’t a fan of heights. Even if there were no Flame Formicans waiting below, the first warning provided by their friendly snake-prophet had made a powerful impression on his psyche.
Fortunately, it didn’t take that long for them to arrive.
Even better, the Guildhall was still standing when they did.
I hissed lightly as the root touched down, exulting in the control that I had over my own body. [Spore Puppeteer] was useful for its ability to protect me from outside control and other effects, but having to send commands to my spore-roots slowed down my reactions. I was glad to be rid of them, once again able to slither about by my own will.
Despite the ongoing tremors, a group of Coreless cheered at our entrance, offering praise to the Great Core in a bout of [relief] and [excitement]. Their praise quickly reached the ears of the nearby disciples.
“You’re back!” Needle shouted, her head peeking out from one of the many holes that lined the nest. Her face fell, her own [relief] shifting to [HORROR] for some unimaginable reason. “Where’s Elara?”
“The girl’s fine,” The Unrepentant One grunted, the sounds wiping away Needle’s [HORROR] surprisingly quickly. “Stayed back to clean things up.”
The-female-who-was-not-Needle plucked me from the ground and clambered over the root that blocked the nest, slipping through one of the larger wall-cracks. The others followed behind, and it wasn’t long before a host of Coreless had gathered around us. They jabbered at one another in the way that Coreless always did, the sounds occasionally drowned out by another deafening tremor. I had been ignoring most of it, but the most recent sound was different; it was one that I had been waiting for.
I slithered away to peek through one of the many wall-cracks that lined the nest, watching as a nearby tower-nest began to fall, shattered by plant-flesh marked by gold and blue. Others fell with it, tower-nest after tower-nest sacrificed in a bid to steal away what rested within - the innumerable plant-flesh followers of the Great Core, each carefully converted, and each far less carefully brought to the field of battle. Many died in the process, plant-flesh pulped by haste and sheer mass.
Others lived.
Clinging to the Darkwood Guardian’s roots, plant-flesh followers joined the field in great masses, the spore-roots inside them forcing roots and tendrils to anchor themselves as best they could. With so many cracks in the surface, the gathered plant-flesh quickly found the purchase that they needed.
At the same time, the ground trembled again, as if trying to remind me of the Ascended that still waited below. Despite my efforts, I knew that the plant-flesh that coated the ground was too weak; at best they would slow the bad-thing down when it tried to find stone.
I needed them to be stronger.
Larger.
More dangerous.
[Verdure Parasite] was more than enough to make up for what they lacked.
Plant-flesh bloomed, forced far past natural limits.
The battlefield was ready - and when the earth began to shake and tremble, and a massive shape broke through its surface with a roar like rumbling stone, I was too.
Zendran
Read ahead on my Patreon!
Discord
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I almost hissed with frustration as the bad-thing slipped away again, falling through once-solid stone with unsettling ease. I would have, if I had control over my own body. It was frustrating, to see victory slip away again.
Still, Needle - and a few other followers, too - lived this time; that was some victory, if not the true victory that I wanted. More importantly, I didn’t think that it was over. Through Needle’s ears, I could hear the sound of stone fracturing again and again. Unlike the bad-thing’s escape during my last false-life, it wasn’t moving any further away.
It was staying in place, destroying stone beneath the surface. Maybe it was frustration, or rage, or something else. It didn’t matter.
Either way, I knew it meant that the fight might not be over yet; it hadn’t left.
Needle, however, did.
The injured Coreless turned back around and left, her still-healing legs locked into a limping stride, each new step forcing a hiss to burst from between gritted teeth. I went with her, helpless to do anything else. She didn’t know that I was there, and there was no way to turn her back.
I sent another command to the nearby roots, urging them to continue guarding the nest in my absence. They wouldn’t be as effective without my conscious direction, but there wasn’t much else that I could do. That done, I threw my senses back towards my own body.
The change was as disorienting as ever. Touch came first, the feeling of fingers brushing against scale-flesh. Soon after, the scent-taste of the Core’s lair flooded in, a combination of old blood and overwhelming plant-flesh that mingled together on my tongue. Sound and sight quickly followed.
“...think something happened? He’s not moving at all.” The-female-who-was-not-Needle hissed at the others in a series of mangled noises, visibly [worried] by my mind’s absence. I twitched, flexing my coiled scale-flesh where it lay across her arm, and she let out a breath tinged with [relief]. She must have picked me up at some point.
Looking around, I noticed that things seemed to mostly be the same. The Grateful One and Will had freed both The Unrepentant One and the-female-who-was-not-Needle from the control of the bad-things. Some things had changed, but that wasn’t surprising; the timing wasn’t exact. Before, The Unrepentant One had still been stripping the dead Coreless of her ore-flesh. That had already happened, and The Grateful One was almost entirely covered in stolen bits of flesh, with only a few remaining pieces left to take.
Ignoring the mental fatigue that always came with using my connection to a [Little Guardian’s Totem] so heavily, I quickly removed the spore-roots that were infecting Will. The Coreless’ following praise was appreciated but ignored. I had heard it before and, if I went too slowly, I knew that I might hear it again. With that in mind, I selflessly ignored the sounds of well-deserved praise, moving on to the next step.
Getting back to the [Little Guardian’s Focus].
Erik’s fist clenched and unclenched again and again, the movements so controlled - so voluntary - that it was soothing. It had been strange and uncomfortable, to be under the control of the Little Guardian; less uncomfortable than when the mist had control, to be sure, but still not something that he would ever enjoy. It was something that he could bear, but far from something that he would ever seek out.
Still, it worked. That was all that mattered. Despite that, he couldn’t help but hope that it was a one-time occurrence. With the Core defeated, the mists would be less of a danger. Elara’s resistance to the effects would allow her to sweep through the mists in search of the fungi that formed them with little trouble, something that she was already in the process of doing.
They couldn’t just leave the victims inside, especially with the injuries Erik and Elara had inflicted on them in their haste. The newborn Seeker hadn’t hesitated to volunteer to gather and heal them while the others moved on, secure in the knowledge that there was little left in the mists to challenge her, what with the armor that had been liberated from the fallen woman.
In the meantime, Erik and the others had another job. Kala had been right to worry; something had attacked the Guildhall in their absence. According to the Little Guardian’s illusions, the attackers had mostly been defeated - bar the most dangerous of them. That one, apparently, would be a problem.
The sight of such a powerful Ascended was unmistakable, as were the constant tremors that it was still somehow creating.
Immediately after warning the group, the snake had slithered away. Then, in a surprising turn of events, the giant tree that towered over so much of the city had begun to creak and quiver. A nearby root began to break the surface with the sound of fractured stone and splintered bark, familiar lines of gold and blue marking its surface. Before long, it had twisted upon itself unnaturally, contorting in an almost sickening manner - and one that clearly damaged the root immensely. With a series of cracks and crunches, the tip of a root came around to meet them.
They clambered on, following the Little Guardian’s direction. Inhuman as their guide was, he had more than proven his trustworthiness.
That didn’t make the ride any easier; as durable as he was, Erik wasn’t a fan of heights. Even if there were no Flame Formicans waiting below, the first warning provided by their friendly snake-prophet had made a powerful impression on his psyche.
Fortunately, it didn’t take that long for them to arrive.
Even better, the Guildhall was still standing when they did.
I hissed lightly as the root touched down, exulting in the control that I had over my own body. [Spore Puppeteer] was useful for its ability to protect me from outside control and other effects, but having to send commands to my spore-roots slowed down my reactions. I was glad to be rid of them, once again able to slither about by my own will.
Despite the ongoing tremors, a group of Coreless cheered at our entrance, offering praise to the Great Core in a bout of [relief] and [excitement]. Their praise quickly reached the ears of the nearby disciples.
“You’re back!” Needle shouted, her head peeking out from one of the many holes that lined the nest. Her face fell, her own [relief] shifting to [HORROR] for some unimaginable reason. “Where’s Elara?”
“The girl’s fine,” The Unrepentant One grunted, the sounds wiping away Needle’s [HORROR] surprisingly quickly. “Stayed back to clean things up.”
The-female-who-was-not-Needle plucked me from the ground and clambered over the root that blocked the nest, slipping through one of the larger wall-cracks. The others followed behind, and it wasn’t long before a host of Coreless had gathered around us. They jabbered at one another in the way that Coreless always did, the sounds occasionally drowned out by another deafening tremor. I had been ignoring most of it, but the most recent sound was different; it was one that I had been waiting for.
I slithered away to peek through one of the many wall-cracks that lined the nest, watching as a nearby tower-nest began to fall, shattered by plant-flesh marked by gold and blue. Others fell with it, tower-nest after tower-nest sacrificed in a bid to steal away what rested within - the innumerable plant-flesh followers of the Great Core, each carefully converted, and each far less carefully brought to the field of battle. Many died in the process, plant-flesh pulped by haste and sheer mass.
Others lived.
Clinging to the Darkwood Guardian’s roots, plant-flesh followers joined the field in great masses, the spore-roots inside them forcing roots and tendrils to anchor themselves as best they could. With so many cracks in the surface, the gathered plant-flesh quickly found the purchase that they needed.
At the same time, the ground trembled again, as if trying to remind me of the Ascended that still waited below. Despite my efforts, I knew that the plant-flesh that coated the ground was too weak; at best they would slow the bad-thing down when it tried to find stone.
I needed them to be stronger.
Larger.
More dangerous.
[Verdure Parasite] was more than enough to make up for what they lacked.
Plant-flesh bloomed, forced far past natural limits.
The battlefield was ready - and when the earth began to shake and tremble, and a massive shape broke through its surface with a roar like rumbling stone, I was too.
Zendran
Read ahead on my Patreon!
Discord
(Make sure to select a role to view the server's channels)
