Chapter 183: Chapter 182: A Golem And Its Mother

 

The Golem didn’t like this.

Mother was angry, and the gold and blue roots had only made it worse; her roars felt as if they were shaking his Core, louder than the crick-crack of stone and far less satisfying. He wanted to escape it, to run and hide; his clay-form wavered and rippled as a reflexive use of [Sodden Earth] nearly brought him back to the comforting bliss of his mud-form, one so like the before-form that it almost felt as if his Creator still lived and commanded him.

Even in her anger, Mother was quick to correct that.

[REMINDER].

 

---

 

The Golem slipped about in his mud-form, invisible tendrils reaching out to scrape against sections of surrounding stone, finding refuge in its taste - the chalky bits of cracked stone as wonderful as they had ever been, causing his tendrils to wiggle in delight.

His new Mother snapped at him for it, the sound like a crack of stone within his mind; his tendrils stilled in shame. He was making too much noise. Another Stone Slime had tasted his delight in the stone’s slight shifts, moving closer to check for the cause of the disturbance. It moved slowly, rolling about on gathered bits of chalky stone it had caught within its own invisible tendrils, the shape of its heart glinting at The Golem from between the many moving pieces.

The Golem held still, knowing well that the slime didn’t have real sight. The Golem had only been able to steal his due to what he had become. The world looked different now, no longer painted in the colorless hues of vibration and touch.

He wasn’t sure that he liked it, as useful as it was. Sometimes he missed the simplicity of his before-form, before his heart had been replaced and a Core had taken its place. Sight was confusing, bright, and less tasty than stone.

His tendrils reached out on reflex, scooping up a bit of the stone below with a quick touch of [Sodden Earth], transforming it and pulling it into his mud-form. The slime noticed the change, moving closer.

Soon enough, it was right beside him. The Golem let a single tendril slip free, stretching out just beyond the boundaries of his more condensed form, and felt another tendril meet him. Recognizing kin, the slime turned away.

That made his new Mother happy, which made The Golem happy. His tendrils wiggled again before he remembered to make them stop. Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind this time. Instead, she urged him onwards.

He was happy to do it, idly tasting the stone as he slid forward, leaving a trail of mud in his wake. The Golem knew that he could have used his clay-form instead, but Mother had insisted that it was too loud.

He wasn’t sure why that mattered.

A few more slimes met him along the way, and he wriggled his tendrils at them in greeting. Mother seemed to like that, though she liked it more when they turned back around and wobbled away. For some reason she thought it was funny.

The Golem followed the changing taste of stone, basking in the touch of the well-worn paths. There was just something wonderful about the taste, the chalk-strewn stones filled with mana and his Creator’s touch.

It tasted like home.

The Great Guardian Slime, in all its stone-covered glory, gave him a few welcoming wriggles as he passed. His Mother cooed happily in The Golem’s mind, congratulating him on doing so well.

On what exactly, he didn’t know.

It felt nice, though, being praised; an almost addictive taste on the tendrils of his mind. He wiggled a little more, mud-form shifting and twisting.

Finally, The Golem’s journey ended at a pedestal, one tendril reaching out to taste the greatest of tastes. His mudform shuddered in delight as his Creator welcomed him, a strong, brown light that reminded him of stone itself pulsing from its depths.

[CONSUME].

…Mother?

[CONSUME].

[CONSUME].

[CONSUME].

[CONSUME].

[CONSUME].

The Golem shook, caught between Mother and Creator.

[CONSUME].

His tendrils wriggled as they brushed against stone, but not in delight. The stone had no taste worth caring about.

Not anymore.

Integrating Dungeon Core (Aspect: Earth)…

Dungeon Core (Aspect: Earth) Integrated.

Core Skill Created: [Tremor Touch].

 

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The Golem stumbled before he could launch another spike, one leg catching below another and snapping it in two. The pieces scattered below, edges scraping and scuffing against the ground. His mind stumbled just as badly, its old and almost-forgotten fractures cracking at the edges.

[REBUKE].

The Golem’s tendrils wriggled in discomfort, pulling themselves inward in an attempt to hide. Mother was even angrier than before. She didn’t like when he thought about the Creator. There was no point, she told him.

The Creator was gone.

 

---

 

The Golem felt his mud-form collapsing inwards as his tendrils wound themselves tight around his Core. The edges dripped and dropped, slipping off the pedestal’s edge with an almost unnoticeable plop.

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His kin didn’t notice.

They didn’t know.

He didn’t want them to know.

Mother didn’t care. She spoke again with that mind-shuddering roar that only a Mother could manage, spurring him onwards. The Golem’s tendrils forced themselves away from the heart that was his Core, reaching for the pedestal below him. They pressed against the stone that had held his Creator.

[Tremor Touch] shattered it into rubble.

His already-wounded mind nearly shattered with it, disappearing in a haze of dust and confusion. He felt his body moving, knew he was doing something important, something that Mother had commanded - whatever it was. He couldn’t tell; the world was a confusing blur of colors and tastes and moving and -

There was a flicker, there and gone again, followed by another.

---

Experience Gained!

Level 5 Stone Slime Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 2/5.

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His tendrils wriggled as the haze began to clear, little by little. The world was still confusing, but a few things were starting to become more understandable. Something wiggled inside his form, twisting and writhing. It tasted like chalk and stone and something else.

---

Experience Gained!

Level 3 Stone Slime Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 3/5.

---

Mother was happy. It tasted like chalk and stone and something else, all burbling and bubbling inside him. Delicious, like home, even if he couldn’t place its third flavor. It, unlike the others, tasted wrong. It was starting to make him sick. There was something wrong about it, even if it made Mother happy.

Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong -

---

Experience Gained!

Level 7 Stone Slime Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 4/5.

---

The taste came back, and the indescribable flavor came with it.

Mother was so happy, and he could have easily lost himself in her praise and joy - but there was something wrong with that taste. It was enough to clear the confusion, at least in part. To focus.

Something reached out to touch him, harshly wrapping itself around his tendrils as they stretched out under Mother’s command.

Even now, he could recognize that touch. It was kin.

Mother called again, less happy this time. His form - clay now, though he didn’t remember changing it - shifted, forming an opening. His tendrils pulled.

He swallowed his kin.

It dissolved like any other organic substance did, slowly but surely; its many tendrils wriggled in betrayal and lashed at the Core that had replaced his heart.

It tasted like chalk and stone and something else.

---

Experience Gained!

Level 11 Stone Slime Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 5/5.

Analyzing Blooded Trait…

Acquiring Blooded Trait: [Slime’s Gluttony I]

Innate Trait: [Slime’s Gluttony IV] Already Possessed.

Innate Trait: [Slime’s Gluttony IV] Increased.

[Slime’s Gluttony V] Acquired.

 

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The Golem reached out and repaired its broken pieces. The first of his Core skills, [Sodden Earth], forced the stone to change, and his tendrils pulled the mud closer and shaped it. The second, [Clay Crucible], hardened it again with a flash of heat. The third, [Tremor Touch], forced a choice few hardened pieces to snap at the edges, turning into spikes even more jagged and sharp than before.

He let the first of them fly, shattering itself against the gold and blue root that had angered Mother so much. He pushed back any thoughts of Creator and kin, trying to focus on the fight.

Now, there was only The Golem - and Mother. No kin, no Creator. Only Mother. Only Tiamat.

And, unlike them, she would never disappear.