Chapter 136: 136: Taking Root

I watched as the Tangleroot twitched and writhed, reaching out in an attempt to grab me again. Sticky sap spilled from the gash in its plant-flesh, dripping down at an agonizingly slow pace.

It was a small one; I had found it while slithering about the area that my Coreless had claimed. A section of the many-nest, centered around the protection of the [Little Guardian’s Focus], had been nearly cleared of the Lesser Core’s bad-things entirely. It was almost unrecognizable; debris had been swept away, plant-flesh had been scoured mercilessly, and new carvings were being created again and again.

Better ones, ones that expressed the once-corrupted’s newfound faith in the Great Core. It was wonderful - though it did make finding a bad-thing in the area far more difficult.

The Tangleroot tried to strike again, reaching out in a frenzied panic. Its plant-flesh tendril just barely missed me, smashing into the ground by my side. I sunk my fangs in again before it could recover, pouring a little more slow-venom down the hollows of my fangs. Another tendril managed to wrap itself around me, squeezing tight.

I twisted around and let loose with a small gout of [Mana Fire]. The blue flames rolled over vulnerable plant-flesh, setting my attacker alight. I was careful not to use too much; I wanted the bad-thing to actually live, after all.

Ideally, it would also stay in decent health, but it wasn’t entirely necessary.

The Tangleroot’s now-flaming tendril pulled back in a rush, whipping itself around in the air in an attempt to put out the flames. When that didn’t work, it turned to more violent measures - smashing the dying root against the ground over and over, rolling it in the nearby debris, and anything else the bad-thing seemed to think of.

I took advantage of its distraction, slithering outside of the range of its longest tendril. When it finally remembered me, I was already too far away; its roots smashed again and again, but none were long enough to reach me.

I waited and, soon enough, its struggles slowed further. It became sluggish. Weak.

Finally, it fell still, and I slithered in cautiously. My scale-flesh brushed against a root-tip, running along the damaged plant-flesh. There was a slight twitch in response, but no more than that. My slow-venom was working well; the Tangleroot was too small and weak to handle a concentrated dose.

I was free to experiment at last.

My fangs sunk into the frozen Tangleroot, and I tore away another chunk of plant-flesh with a vicious jerk of my head. The bad-thing’s thick sap coated my mouth-flesh, sticking uncomfortably. I flicked my tongue a few times, trying to wiggle it around enough to pull away the sticky liquid and swallow it down.

When my mouth cleared at last, I was more than ready to get to work. The bad-thing in front of me, disgusting as it was and nothing like something the Great Core would have created, would be the first bad-thing to be infected by [Spore Puppeteer].

I leaned in, flexing the new muscles within my mouth-flesh. The membrane lining the sac-like structure burst, and I breathed out heavily.

Spores fluttered into the air, crossing the distance between us.

They looked different from the spores of the Little Puppeteers, I noticed with some relief. Where the Little Puppeteers’ spores were green, my own were a satisfying blue - much like the light of the Great Core itself.

I was sure that was a sign of the Great Core’s approval.

The color wasn’t the only difference I noticed, though it was the one I had expected the least. Other differences were completely unsurprising; my spores were far lower in number, but also quite a bit larger individually. Still, it was obvious that I would never be able to create a spore-mist of my own. Even if I kept my spores small and numerous, they would only add up to create a small and short-lived cloud at best.

More importantly, I could also feel the spores themselves, in the same way that I could feel and adjust them when they were inside the hidden hollow of my mouth. I couldn’t change them anymore, but the connection was still there.

I could already feel them starting to die, withering away as they floated free.

Then, one after another, a small amount of spores latched onto the unmoving Tangleroot’s wound. I felt - and saw - them pulse in response, almost wriggling in delight. It was a strange sensation, different from the ones that I received from the Coreless. Muted, and far more alien to me.

My eyes fixated on the spores, eager to see what would happen. I watched. I waited.

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It was slow.

I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. My Coreless had been affected quickly each time they entered the spore-mists, but that was probably because the mists held more of the spores than I could ever hope to create. I wasn’t made of plant-flesh, thankfully, but that also meant that [Spore Puppeteer] probably wasn’t as effective as it could be. There was only a tiny portion of my also-tiny body where spores could be formed. It wasn’t enough for more extreme methods.

Despite that, I could tell that my spores were starting to grow with the same sensation that I was almost certain would eventually help me command or control the full-grown spores. It would just take time. Eventually, they would spread through the Tangleroot entirely, and then it would be over.

I tried to flex my will, send a message to the spore, pray to the Great Core, and almost everything else that I could think of doing, all while peering carefully at the Tangleroot’s open wound. There was a tiny twitch, almost unnoticeable, as the walls of the wound flexed slightly. I pulled back, hissing quietly. I wasn’t sure which method had worked, but I knew that one had - if only slightly.

That was good enough for the moment, I figured.

Without a way to heal itself or remove the spores, it was only a matter of time. [Spore Puppeteer] wasn’t quick enough to take something over midfight - not yet at least - but it could still be effective. Maybe I’d be able to increase the speed that the spores captured bad-things, but I wasn’t sure how yet.

I put the thought aside, turning around to slither away. I had another idea that, especially if the spores were slow to grow, would need to be acted on soon.

There was another bad-thing that I had to find.

“Is this really a good idea?” a once-corrupted asked, filled with [uncertainty]. “Miss Valera and the others probably don’t want you out here by yourself.”

I hissed back at him, turning towards my target immediately afterwards. This would be dangerous, I knew, but I decided to leave the first of the Great Core’s disciples at the [Little Guardian’s Focus]. We had found many once-corrupted recently, and they would need to teach them about the wonders of the Great Core if the new Coreless were going to become the Great Core’s Coreless.

Something sparked in my mind’s awareness just as I was about to slither forward, pressing against my mind in a manner different from the way that Tiamat or my Coreless did - as if it were asking what I wanted from it.

The spores had finally grown enough that the Tangleroot had been taken over, I realized. I tried to send a few thoughts and ideas across, hoping that the new creature the spores had formed would understand. After that, I moved on. I could check on the Tangleroot later. I needed to act before my target left the area.

I slithered forward, looking for an opportunity. It wasn’t long before I found one; a section of plant-flesh that had sloughed away, cut by something previously. It would do.

Carefully, I let my scale-flesh quietly wriggle across the ground between us. My mouth opened, and the final remnants of my current spores flew free before taking hold within the old wound.

I slithered away just as quietly; the bad-thing never noticed.

When I gained enough ground, I let myself turn back to look again. My gaze flowed over the high walls of the nests around me, easily finding the most powerful of the Lesser Core’s bad-things - the great darkwood tree that towered over the many-nest.

I looked back towards its sprawling, spore-infested root again, hissing happily.

Zendran

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