I watched through one of my new Coreless’ [Little Guardian’s Totem], looking over the state of the Great Core’s first many-nest. It was doing well; I’d even seen the grove I’d created around the shores of the many-nest repulse a wave of monsters, something that deeply excited me. The walls of plant-flesh had worked even better than expected, defeating the encroaching monsters with hardly any issue at all.
Even better, they’d done it without requiring any new instructions from me, simply following those that I’d initially given them. Something I was happy to see. There would be no point if I had to be paying attention for them to work properly.
I waited until the Coreless crossed the black-water on darkwood not-sinks before doing the thing I’d come to do.
And then I pulled, severing from my reanimated undead the mana that I’d gifted them.
They weren’t needed anymore, and I wanted to reap the rewards of their defeat. One by one, flickers of the thought-light greeted me, each one indicating the demise of the once-blasphemers.
Perhaps the Great Core would show some degree of mercy to them for their recent service.
The thought-light flickered again and again as each reanimated Coreless dropped. Finally, as the second-to-last hit the ground, I received the reward I was waiting for.
Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Defeated.
Calculating .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Strength.
Requisite Experience Awarded.
Level up x1!
1 Trait Point Gained.
…
Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Defeated.
Calculating .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Strength.
Requisite Experience Awarded.
Level up x1!
1 Trait Point Gained.
Level 80 Reached
Analyzing Potential Reward Choices…
Only One May Be Selected.
Revealing Possible Rewards Unlocked Through Species: Undead And Its Interactions…
Death Boost: You are born of death, and may temporarily imbue yourself with a small portion of the strength of those you usher into its arms, growing more powerful from the fallen. (Provided by: Undead)
Necrotic Venom: You are born of death, and your venom bears its touch. Adds a withering effect to venom. (Provided by: Undead, Snake)
Blighted Rebirth: You are born of death, and will be born of it again. Your body is healed and reanimated upon final death, providing a second chance at undeath. This effect does not free the undead ouroboros from the influence of its original reanimator. Blighted Rebirth may only activate once before needing to be selected again. (Provided by: Undead, Ouroboros)
Immediately, without even bothering to refresh my memory on the other options that were available to me, I made my choice.
Reward Chosen: Death Boost
[Death Boost] Acquired.
The Great Core’s most recent Blessing flooded into me, ushered in by the thought-light. I could feel the new power invested in me, made known in the tingling at the tips of my fangs and the sudden sensation of emptiness in my scale-flesh - as if they both knew that, given the opportunity, they could be filled with something more.
I gave them a hint of that something, deciding to break the bond to the final reanimated Coreless remaining in the far-off many-nest, one saved for this very purpose.
The thread of death mana snapped.
Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Defeated.
Calculating .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Strength.
Requisite Experience Awarded.
And, when the connection snapped back, something came with it. Not the Coreless’ life-force - because that was long-gone, I knew. It had already been consumed in his initial death, before his reanimation. [Life Hunter] confirmed that. But there was…something.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Something that shrieked and screamed as it was consumed, caught between ethereal fangs. I felt it struggle, thrash, and then slip away. But not entirely.
A little piece of it was left.
A small portion.
But even from that small portion, power rushed through me - far more than I would have imagined. My scales felt harder. My flesh stronger. My fangs sharper.
Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Soul Fragment Absorbed.
I shuddered, shivered, and fought against the urge to do some thrashing of my own. The stolen power writhed invisibly against my scale-flesh, unwilling to hold still, even as it continued to grant me greater strength.
In its struggles, I understood why [Death Boost] was meant to be temporary. The piece of the Coreless I’d taken didn’t want to remain. It wanted to return to the greater whole, that vast something that had shrieked and screamed before escaping me.
But it would stay, I determined.
I settled down against the cool ore-flesh of my Coreless-self, letting my coils fall limp, and focused on gathering my will.
In many ways, it was like building my mind-nest all over again, back when I’d first encountered Tiamat and her [Chains Of The Creator]. It required a concentrated effort of will that forced me to tune out everything else as I set my mind to the creation of its defenses, a level of concentration that was agonizingly difficult.
Except, this time, the defenses weren’t built to stop something from entering.
They were created to stop something from leaving.
I surrounded the captured fragment within great coils of my will, wrapping it tightly enough that its struggles became little more than shivers, unable to do more than vibrate in place. It screamed and shrieked at me, but I’d long since grown used to drowning out the horrible wails of Tiamat herself.
This…thing was nowhere near the same intensity or strength.
I constricted a little more, and the wailing fell into whines, the thrashing into simple shudders.
The thought-light flickered, informing me of my victory.
Absorbed Soul Fragment Temporarily Subjugated.
[Death Boost] Extended.
Hissing with satisfaction, my tongue flicked out to taste the air. I was instinctually sure that, despite its current subjugation, the fragment of the once-blasphemer still hadn’t been permanently absorbed. That would require something more than what [Death Boost] allowed me. It would try to escape again, likely when the mind-coils I had wrapped around it loosened the next time [Death Boost] attempted to absorb a second soul fragment from the enemies of the Great Core.
And then again with a third, and a fourth.
I welcomed them to try, because I didn’t plan on ever letting go. Not for those who blasphemed against the Great Core and worked to stifle the growth of its light. A certain amount of penance was required.
And an eternity of it would do, I supposed.
----------------------------------------
He looks so darn cute when he’s hissing like that, Valera thought as Orken’s Little Guardian hissed to himself, I wonder what the little guy’s thinking about?
Her hands twitched for a moment, almost instinctively reaching over to pluck the snake from the shoulder of the undead thing that he was riding - she tried not to think about the fact that the giant had been a living, breathing human only days ago - but stopped before she got there.
Even if she was getting used to it, it still bothered Valera to see their Little Guardian in this state. So lifeless. So cold to the touch.
She missed her lively little noodle.
Luckily, as much as he’d clearly been affected by whatever death-touched ability he’d been forced to use to survive freeing the prisoners of the mine, he was still the same tiny snake that she knew and loved. One glance at the things he’d done, and the people around her was enough to prove that.
The newest Guardian Grove was still growing; occasionally, Valera caught movement out of the corners of her eyes as particular plants were chosen above all others, leafs and vines and stems shooting up into the air with a speed unfathomable for normal plants. The fruit-bearing trees had received particular focus over the past days of growth, already appearing strong and hardy, one and all - and still quickly growing new fruits, even as the old were plucked and consumed by eager hands and hungry mouths.
But with most of the food issue handled already, Valera could tell that the focus was shifting towards the types of vegetation that the Guardian Grove used for the bulk of its defenses. Serrated vines worked their way down from the branches of the many fruit-bearing trees, inching downwards with every breath like a curtain made of deadly greens and golds and blues - but one that shifted away each time a human neared it, allowing safe passage for anyone that wished it. Elsewhere, she caught the engorged caps of spore-filled mushrooms, carefully tucked away in crannies and crevices where they’d been carefully planted earlier.
They’d been particularly careful with the placement of those; while the Little Guardian had proven in the past that he could make the spore sacs only intentionally respond to enemies, nobody wanted to accidentally set one off by stepping on one in passing. The [Little Guardian’s Totem]s they all wore would mean surviving the experience, especially with three [Little Guardian’s Focus]es within range, but it was still unlikely to be a very pleasant survival.
“Here, take these,” Sylvia said, returning with a few bundles in hand, presumably gathered up from somewhere while Valera was distracted by the changes wrought by the Little Guardian. The woman was very much a busybody, and Valera could tell that she cared a lot about the lives of those living within her rickety tower. Probably why she’d been one of the few selected to travel to Orken and see about establishing ties.
Well, that, and the depressing fact that many of the others likely would have struggled to make the short journey.
“What are these?” Valera asked curiously, hefting the bundles of cloth in her hand. There was something inside of them, but it was fairly light.
“Just some things to hide those two,” Sylvia said, motioning towards the reanimated corpses among them. “A few people have been working on them. Their faces are too easy to recognize - especially Horik’s with his size. At least with masks on, they won’t be recognized on sight. Besides, it will make people feel better around them. Makes them less…you know.”
Valera did know. There was something terrible about being around them, about seeing something that was both human and not. It struck at the mind like a physical blow, one that left a lingering ache behind its touch.
She took the bundles with a nod of thanks.
A bit of pantomiming later, and the Little Guardian’s undead were properly concealed; large cloaks, more dirty bundles of fabric than anything else, draped over their enchanted armor and concealed most of their glow, while carved wooden masks were placed over their faces. They didn’t seem to mind at all, remaining completely expressionless up until the wood pressed against their skin and the straps were secured in place.
Valera shivered, finding their soundless agreement disturbing. Though agreement was the wrong word. She couldn’t find any ability in them to disagree. They just…existed.
What a horrible Core, she thought, glad that the Death Core hadn’t been kept for Orken’s use. Sure, it was still terrifying under the Little Guardian’s control, but who knew what enchanted items made from the thing would have done?
Or worse - if, like the Nature Core of Verdant Grove, it ever somehow broke containment.
That Core, too, the Little Guardian had proven he could put to much better use in the creation of the Guardian Groves. Valera just had to hope that he would come to do the same with the power that the Death Core had bestowed on him. That he would use it to protect people, rather than harm them.
She would have to have faith in the little guy.