As the-female-who-was-not-Needle stood at the edge of the black-water, I knew that there was only a couple of ways I could think of that would let us quickly get across - and, since I was deeply against the idea of having my disciple attempt to fling me across the deadly liquid in an attempt to get me to the other side, even those ways were whittled down to one.
And so, still feeling the [panic] of the Coreless inside, I began.
A brief display of [Illusion Spark] was enough to catch the-female-who-was-not-Needle’s attention, and she hurried to follow my directions, placing me onto the ground and tugging at the skin-mouths at her side. She quickly found the one she wanted, placing it to the side and thrusting her arm into its open maw.
While my disciple rooted around, searching for what I would need, I had already begun. With all of the speed that I could manage, I reached for the power of [Verdure Parasite]; it came quickly, practiced in its use as I had become. Instantly, I felt the potential of the plant-flesh around me, and of those inside me; I felt the seeds that filled the skin-mouth, far more alive than any of the other examples of plant-flesh within the cavern, even in their nascent state - a mix of bad-thing and plant-flesh, the offspring of the second Lesser Core that I had defeated. They retained their virulence, even through the newer generations, all but begging to be allowed to grow.
Within each seed were the beginnings of my spore-roots, just as eager to grow as the seed that it inhabited, ready to bend plant-flesh to my will.
And, inside, I could sense the spores that remained inside me, tucked away within the spore-sac created by [Spore-Puppeteer]; small in size, but many in number.
Each bit of plant-flesh fell under my ability’s domain. It was nowhere near the amount of plant-flesh that I had once commanded, that had allowed me enough power to near-instantly strike at a dangerous Ascended with fangs formed of plant-flesh, but I didn’t need anything like that sort of speed.
For what I needed, I had enough.
My mind’s coils wrapped around each bit of plant-flesh, sinking into their very potential, the time that allowed them growth, and stole it away. At the same time, the coils of my body worked on their own task, the first aspect of [The Golem’s Fading Heart] coursing across my scales and running into the stone underneath me.
[Sodden Earth] pushed the stone aside like a liquid, the formerly-solid substance parting beneath my flesh. I dove in deeper, making certain the seed that the-female-who-was-not-Needle was searching for would have ample space to be planted; it would need to be stuck thoroughly into the ground to achieve what I needed of it.
Not-Needle and I finished our tasks in tandem, the female Coreless finding the seed hidden within thousands of others, ripping it free from the skin-mouth and placing it into the near-liquid pit of stone that I had created, heedless of the way that the muck coated her shining ore-flesh.
Then, with power bestowed by the Great Core, I forced it to grow.
The ground creaked, cracked, and shattered under the sudden weight, roots of plant-flesh shooting from the muck and finding purchase in the stone, latching on to steady the budding tree’s growth.
As not-Needle plucked me from the ground, the seedling continued to grow, erupting from the earth with a speed that - while it might not have matched what I had been capable of causing within the second of the Coreless’ many-nests, where the Nature Core had staked its claim - was far from slow. Only the focus that I had to turn towards the spore-roots inside of it, keeping the new plant-flesh from ever turning against the will of the Great Core, kept it from reaching the height of the-female-who-was-not-Needle in the first few moments of its life.
And then, with another twist of my will, I forced it to grow in a new direction, plant-flesh and spore-roots straining to send the budding tree sideways - across the black-water and towards the flaming tower-nest.
It smashed into the wall with a deafening crash, evoking screams from the few Coreless still alive inside.
The-female-who-was-not-Needle shouted something and, with a recklessness that I wasn’t happy about participating in, rushed across the newly grown plant-flesh and towards the tower. The black-water sloshed underneath us, its surface disturbed by invading branches, eager to consume me.
And then we were across, beside the moving-wall that was the entrance to the tower-nest. My disciple flung herself against it, but - for once - a moving-wall held firm, refusing to be defeated by the merest touch. The screams from the inside increased in volume.
Rather than wait for not-Needle to finish solving the problem, I simply did what I had done the last time a moving-wall had proven unnaturally stubborn. I found a way to go around it. My fangs sunk into the wood surrounding it, and [Death - Wither] forced them to rot and soften under their enervating touch. My disciple quickly noticed what I was doing, using her own fangs to break apart the withered wood left in my wake.
Soon enough, the wall held a hole large enough for a Coreless to crawl through. And moments later, the smallest of the Coreless slithered free. Not-Needle pulled at her arms, helping her out, and then reached down for the next.
One after another, the Coreless emerged from the fiery depths of the tower-nest, their soot-covered forms contrasting with the glowing embers that danced in the air behind them. With each one rescued, a small glimmer of [hope] pierced through the [worry] and [despair] emanating from my disciple’s totem.
But, even as a seventh Coreless was rescued from the flames, there was no time for celebration. No time for us to catch our breath. Not that I had any need to breathe at the moment, under the effects of [Transient Reanimation], but the Coreless certainly did.
“There…” a Coreless that I recognized as the one bearing my [Little Guardian’s Totem] rasped, struggling for breath. “There’s probably more in there,” he finished. “I only checked the first three floors.”
The-female-who-was-not-Needle felt another spike of [worry] at his words, plucking me from the ground and placing me on her shoulder yet again. Afterwards, she dug through the remaining skin-mouth at her side, pulling out a handful of [Little Guardian’s Totem]s and pressing them into his arms.
“Take these,” she said, “for the others.” Not-Needle gestured to the bridge of plant-flesh that spanned the distance between the tower-nest and the safety of the shore, flicking her hands out in a shooing motion. “Get them across safely. Help should be coming soon.”
Before the Coreless could respond, my disciple thrust herself through the hole in the wall, ore-flesh scraping against its outer edges with an audible shriek. I was forced to flatten myself against her shoulder, avoiding the touch of charred wood.
And then we were in.
The tower-nest looked even worse than it had been the last time I’d seen it; the flames had only grown stronger during the time that it took for the-female-who-was-not-Needle and I to span the gap across the black-water. By now, they seemed as if they threatened to bring the whole place down. Even as I watched, a part of the ceiling gave way with a deafening clatter of wood.
I felt a hint of [dismay] from my disciple as she stared at the hole in the ceiling, followed by a [resolve] that straightened her shoulders and set her legs to moving.
We moved in a way that only not-Needle could manage, passing through the floors of the tower-nest in what must have looked like a confusing blur of motion, only slowed by the occasional need for not-Needle to catch her breath. It was raspy, bits of soot puffing in the air before her, the beginnings of [pain] spreading through our connection. Every so often, she stopped to cough, and what looked like clumps of ash and smoke spilled from her lungs.
Her ore-flesh was getting unbearably hot, too. I slithered away from it, moving towards the safety of the crook of her neck, though I was careful to ensure that only the underside of my body pressed against her skin; my own ore-flesh was probably just as hot.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
As we approached the sixth floor, we finally heard a noise that wasn’t the crackling of flames and the crumbling of woods. A cry, just barely audible over the overwhelming cacophony. My disciple zeroed in on it, shouting in response.
“I’m coming to help! Where are you?”
There was a pause, and then a series of shouts in response, as if the crying Coreless had taken a moment to think about whether to answer my disciple or not. Probably worried that the blasphemers who were responsible for attacking the tower-nest in the first place had come back. Evidently, they’d decided that they had a better chance with my disciple than they did the flames.
We rushed ahead, and I took a moment as not-Needle was running to prepare to heal whoever we found. Based on what I’d seen, they probably weren’t in good shape, and I wasn’t entirely sure that my disciple would be able to carry a Coreless down six flights of stairs. For all her impressive speed, she wasn’t really any stronger than any other Coreless. Certainly, she didn’t come anywhere near the strength of the Great Core’s larger, male disciples.
I would need to heal them, so that they could manage to make the journey themselves. Something that was normally easier than it would be. While I had managed to defeat enough blasphemers to bring myself closer to full reanimation, my body was still undead. Which meant that I still had [Life-Death Inversion] to worry about.
If I wasn’t careful, my attempts to heal the Coreless would hurt me.
Luckily, I had an answer for that. I simply had to do the same for life essence that I normally did for death. I reached towards the mana that suffused my blood and core, beginning to carefully prepare for what came next. With a flex of my will, the first droplet of life essence formed, momentarily searing my flesh with its radiance. Even my blood wasn’t safe from it, all but burning under its touch.
I flinched, spasming in place upon not-Needle’s shoulder. It was as if a flame had been set inside of my flesh, hotter even than the inferno that surrounded me. My insides charred. My blood boiled. My flesh steamed.
But I simply made more, increasing the anathemic life essence held within my blood. Then, finally, I had what I thought would be enough. I pulled at some of the mana captured within that same boiling blood, using it to surround the radiant essence and isolate it from everything else.
To my surprise, the thought-light flickered.
Lesser Core Skill: [Mana Manipulation XI] Increased.
[Mana Manipulation XII] Acquired.
I nearly lost hold of the mana then. It had been a while since that skill had increased, and I was a little surprised to see it. Though, considering it had been a while, maybe I shouldn’t have been.
After taking a moment to hiss my thanks to the Great Core, I twisted some of my remaining mana into death essence, and the damage done by running life essence through my body was soothed by the frigid chill of its deathly counterpart.
Just as I finished, not-Needle crashed through an unsuspecting moving-wall. It broke beneath the weight of her ore-flesh, splinters and shards flying past my snout as it made one final, futile attempt to prove its worth as a defender of the tower-nest.
It failed; I merely hissed at the shards as they passed, watching them clatter against the wall behind us.
Turning around, I noted that the-female-who-was-not-Needle was already in the process of pulling at a section of wood that - like before - had fallen from the ceiling above. It covered the front of a box of darkwood, keeping the thing closed, and I could hear cries and coughs coming from within.
For a moment, I wondered what they were doing in there - and then I remembered my early days, hiding within wall-cracks and terrified of the bad-things that would have threatened me, and I understood. They’d been hiding from the blasphemers, tucking themselves within the only version of wall-cracks that they could manage, only to be stuck within when the tower-nest began to crumble around them.
Unable to do much to help on my own, I instead focused on a small section of the life essence that I had gathered, twisting it into shape and separating it into its two halves - vigor and vitality. While I planned to save the latter for the Coreless, who might end up needing it, I felt free to use the former to help speed things along.
With a careful bite, I sank my fangs into not-Needle’s neck, and let [Life - Vigor] flow.
My disciple suddenly sped up even further, and pieces of flaming darkwood that had once been a struggle became easier; within a few moments, she had managed to uncover the other Coreless’ hiding place enough to pry it open, revealing the ones hiding inside.
There were three - two little ones and a very old female. The old one looked as if she was about to drop, though she did a good job of hiding it from the tiny Coreless, fretting over them and wiping their tears even as her body sagged further and further.
Despite my desire to help the small ones, I moved towards her first. She gasped as I came close, throwing herself backwards. I hissed at her, continuing to slither closer. As much as I admired that she wanted me to focus on the little ones first, who would have much longer lives with which to offer their praise to the Great Core, I wasn’t satisfied with only saving two.
All would survive to offer their devotion. The Great Core demanded no less from its Champion.
“Sn - sn - snake!” she shouted, nearly hitting her head in her haste to back away. But, eventually, there wasn’t anywhere for her to back away to. I sank my fangs into her flesh and, this time, I let leak droplets of vitality. The golden liquid burned as it pulled free, doing a slight bit of damage when I released it from the sheath of pure mana that surrounded it, but [Mana Blood] meant that I had plenty to spare; and the moment that I felt I was running low, I could twist upon myself and bite my own tail, activating [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail] and [Mana Restoration] in turn.
I quickly did the same for the smaller two Coreless. They cried when my fangs poked into their flesh; their poor little hearts probably couldn’t handle the sheer joy of knowing what was to come now that they were being healed - a blissful life in servitude to the Great Core.
What better life could there be?
With the three Coreless healed, my disciple began to usher them back down to safety. It was a slower process than going up had been, and we were forced to stop more than once when the Coreless devolved into a fit of coughing. A few more bites fixed the problem each time, and we eventually made it all the way back down to the bottom.
The-female-who-was-not-Needle pointed down at the hole in the wall. “There’s your exit,” she rasped, lungs still full of smoke. She followed after the trio as they crawled their way out, coughing all the while, though I could feel her [relief] as we entered the range of the [Little Guardian’s Focus]es that I had created, causing her [Little Guardian’s Totem] to begin healing the damage to her body.
As the three Coreless pulled themselves to their feet, my disciple reached into the bag at her side and pulled three more [Little Guardian’s Totem]s. “Here,” she said, “these will keep you healthy.”
The old Coreless looked at the darkwood carvings, dangling from not-Needle’s hand on tiny threads, staring at them for a moment. And then at me. And then at the [Little Guardian’s Totem]s again. And then at me again.
She shrugged, snatching the offered carvings.
“Long as the thing don’t come to life and bite me again, I suppose.”
Just as her hand touched the wood of the [Little Guardian’s Totem]s, I felt a connection form, filled with utter [shock] and [disbelief].
“Take the children and head across the tree,” not-Needle said, pointing off to the other side of the shore, where the previous Coreless waited. I could see the glow of ore-flesh approaching from the darkness, signifying that some of the other disciples were finally drawing close. “There’ll be a few more people coming,” she said, letting out another cough. “They’re friends of mine, and they’ll be wanting to know what happened here.”
“You’re not coming?” the Coreless said with [surprise], handing off the other two [Little Guardian’s Totem]s to the smaller Coreless without turning away from my disciple. I ignored the bursts of [surprise] and [joy] from the little ones as they clutched at their new carvings, focusing instead on what I knew was behind us.
Just like my disciple was.
“No,” she said. “We need to head back in, make sure there’s no one else in there that needs our help.”
Staring at the flaming tower-nest, I knew one thing. If there were any Coreless alive in there, they were enemies of the Coreless blasphemers. And an enemy of a blasphemer could only be a future faithful.
I hissed.
It was time to recruit a few more followers of the Great Core.