The Great Core's Paradox

It didn’t take nearly as long to reach the tower-nest where most of the disciples waited than it had to go the other direction; this time, I knew where I was going.

Also, my newest Coreless walked much faster than I could slither.

That may have been the biggest difference.

Whatever the reason, my crowd of Coreless soon came upon the rickety tower-nest; I heard their mutterings as we approached and, even if I didn’t know what they were saying, I could make a guess at what they were trying to say.

It was going to be hard to fit all of them in there - especially my giant. Even after it moved aside, getting through the moving-wall’s opening would require the giant undead to contort his body into unnatural shapes and sizes.

It was a good thing that any damage that caused his body would be easily fixed, I supposed. Unlike with some of the other reanimated, I was more than willing to waste essence on keeping my giant from his final death.

He would be useful. For appearances, if nothing else. The giant Coreless was intimidating. I’d bet more than a few bad-things would prefer to run rather than face him.

And now he was mine.

We were quickly greeted by the Coreless of the tower-nest as we approached, the-female-who-was-not-Needle at their head. I caught more than a few notes of [relief] from their [Little Guardian’s Totem]s at my return; more than I would have expected, given how recently they had found the Great Core’s light. Unlike the Coreless of the other two many-nests that I had visited, these new Coreless hadn’t seen much of what I could do.

Of what serving the Great Core could bring. Now that I knew about the dangers they faced, it was time that I started to change that. But first, I needed to figure out what to do with the Great Core’s newest Coreless.

There really wasn’t enough room for them.

I think that not-Needle realized that; as her eyes scanned over the followers that trailed behind me, [alarm] invaded the [relief] of her [Little Guardian’s Totem]s, the two mixing together. [alarm] eventually won and turned into outright [panic]. She pointed at the new Coreless.

“Skies, what happened? Are - are those people dead? What happened?”

“Does this snake belong to you, then? He…” the Coreless who had carried me during most of my recent adventures started replying, letting out a long series of jabbers that I had no hope of following.

So I didn’t.

Instead, I took a moment to relax, slithering towards the-female-who-was-not-Needle and finding my customary place on her shoulder. My coils wrapped tight around her, and I looked inwards.

The life force that I had gathered from the blasphemous Coreless was like a fire fighting the bitter cold of my flesh; I could feel the way that it tried to beat back the chill of undeath. I could feel the way that it was beginning to succeed.

It wouldn’t take all that much more life force before [Life Hunter] pulled me back from my reanimated state - which, while good, meant that I really would need to get rid of most of my undead at some point. Not only were they too much of a drain of my stores of mana - and, consequently, death essence - but they also were an easy source of the levels that I needed. It would be my best chance for fulfilling one of the main goals of getting [Life Hunter] in the first place.

[Death Boost]. I thought back to when it had first been offered to me, calling up a memory of what the thought-light had shown me.

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)

It wasn’t something that would always be useful, but I had a feeling that [Death Boost] was something that I would find myself needing.

Even with all of the distractions of the many-nests and other Lesser Cores, I hadn’t forgotten about the threat that was Tiamat and her hordes of bad-things.

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I couldn’t, even. She was a constant presence at the edges of my mind-nest, held back only by my bitter refusal to give any ground. Something that I figured she had realized; I didn’t hear her thought-hisses in my mind as often as I used to.

But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t planning something. I remembered the anger that she had felt when I used [Spore Puppeteer] to convert the bad-things that she had created, and the far more powerful rage when I had defeated the Golem that she had sent to face me.

No, there would be more - and I doubted that the Golem was the strongest of bad-things that she had to throw at me. Without the advantage of the plant-flesh-covered many-nest that had let me use [Verdure Parasite] so effectively and defeat the Golem, I might find myself struggling against another Ascended.

As much as I hated to admit it, it was true. I just died too easily. My most recent fights had proven that point. Only my newest ability to bring myself back to life had stopped me from needing the Great Core to bring me back to the start of the Cycle, and something like the Golem wouldn’t have had a very difficult time just killing my reanimated self again.

I needed something more.

Hopefully, with Tiamat’s proven strategy of sending large hordes of bad-things to attack her enemies, [Death Boost] would be a part of that more. And if I was lucky, it would be a large part.

It was a gamble. I didn’t really know how much a ‘small portion’ of a bad-thing’s strength was, and I didn’t know what ‘temporarily’ actually meant, either. But, above all, I had faith that the Great Core was with me.

It would all work out eventually.

I settled down, luxuriating in the sensation of relaxed coils and limp scale-flesh, as the Coreless continued to make noises back and forth. It seemed to have gotten a little heated; the-female-who-was-not-Needle’s voice had raised itself more than once, and I had sensed a whirlwind of emotions whipping through the connection to her [Little Guardian’s Totem]. But, overall, I ignored it.

I had finished my job for now; the blasphemous Coreless had been defeated, the followers of the Great Core rescued, and the next few slithers of my journey were beginning to become planned out. Soon, I would need to create more [Little Guardian’s Totem]s, a [Little Guardian’s Focus], and raise a forest of plant-flesh to defend the Great Core’s Coreless against any possible blasphemers in their midst, but that was something for later.

For a little while, it would be nice to relax.

Valera was in shock; she knew that. There was just so much happening all at once. The bulk of the emotions that she was supposed to be feeling would probably catch up to her later, and she’d have her chance to freak out over everything happening. Because this - this was more than a little overwhelming.

Valera had thought that, whatever the Little Guardian got up to when he slithered away, it wouldn’t be something that a Guardian Statue or two couldn’t fix.

Apparently, that hadn’t been quite right.

She side-eyed the Little Guardian where he sat on her shoulder, trying to calm herself as her heart beat a little more frantically. It was hard not to. If he had only been a little bigger, the Little Guardian would look exactly like the vision of himself that he had once shown Valera, black smoke and clearly-dead flesh and all.

The vision of himself where he killed Valera.

She pushed back a shudder, reminding herself that this was different. The danger that time had come from the Death Core’s potential to defeat and take over the Little Guardian, that much was clear. The various undead creatures that they had faced along the way, not to mention the horrible amalgamation of flesh that had stood guard in the Death Core’s Sanctum, were proof of that. That wasn’t the case anymore; the Death Core was gone.

But still, it wasn’t easy to come so close to something that had once been revealed to be the death of her. Especially with the uncomfortable chill that radiated from his scales - one that was somehow more spiritual than physical, pushing past the barrier of her armor and skin far more easily than it should have. If it weren’t for the light touch of life that infused that chill, like a drop of warmth on a frigid day, not nearly enough to overcome the cold but comforting all the same, Valera wasn’t sure that she would be able to stand it.

That little bit of life, of warmth, made all the difference though. Or, at least enough of one that Valera held out hope that things would be okay. That they really were different this time. And that the tiny snake wasn’t quite as dead as he seemed.

He would have seen this happening and avoided it if it was a problem, right?

Valera hoped so.

Despite that, even with that tiny bit of warmth kept within the deathly chill, Valera would have worried about the wisps of black coming off of the Little Guardian’s scales having an adverse effect on her health if it weren’t for the knowledge that any Guardian Statue set up near her would heal Valera right up.

Speaking of Guardian Statues…

The party’s hopes of negotiating with more of Erandur’s people than they initially had access to in order to wring out more benefits for Orken were all but ruined. Even if there wasn’t the issue of Virtun’s likely involvement with at least one of the wealthier factions of the hodgepodge-city, something that Valera had only recently learned when Doran and Erik returned, there was still the problem of…them.

The other undead things that the Little Guardian had brought with him. Things without even a hint of the warmth and life that the tiny snake was giving off; just bitter cold and dead, moving flesh.

People. Guardsmen. Who had, according to David - the self-appointed representative of the massive group of people that the Little Guardian had conjured from nowhere - killed the Little Guardian. So, at least he had been provoked.

But, still.

This is going to be a problem.

Valera sighed for what felt like the thousandth time in recent minutes. Apparently, she wouldn’t be able to relax for a good, long while.

They’d need to come up with a new plan to deal with all this - because Valera’s earlier worries, even if they had been wrong in scope, had been right on one thing.

This had the potential to be a diplomatic disaster.