The darkness broke as every bit of light that I had gathered in the past minutes was released all at once. Light flashed. Bad-things shrieked, blinded.
Vulnerable.
And far smaller than I remembered.
I moved towards the nearest in a burst of speed, my new, larger slithers devouring the distance between us. I marveled at the change, and then sunk my fangs into many-legged flesh. A stream of spores spilled into the wound, [Verdure Parasite] already working to accelerate a single spore’s growth at the expense of the others. With more to spare than ever, I could bear the sacrifice.
A line of pain spread across my scale-flesh, running across the top and down one side, as a blindly stabbing leg managed a glancing blow. I hissed, flinching away and cursing my mistake. There was no ore-flesh to guard me anymore. I had to remember that.
And being as large as I was, dodging had become harder as well.
Then again, other things had become far, far easier.
The bad-thing twitched, a thought-hiss forcing the growing spore-root inside it to flex erratically. It was enough that I was able to slither away after dosing it with a stream of slow-venom, leaving the infested creature behind and moving towards the next. There was no point in injuring a future puppet more than necessary.
I wrapped myself around a leg of the next, immediately flexing my coils in a show of strength. [Constriction VII] was more than up to the task; the leg cracked and snapped, forcing the bad-thing to stumble and fall, its balance stolen in its sudden transition into a less-legged bad-thing. My coils found somewhere new to constrict, and the thought-light flickered in celebration of my victory.
Experience Gained!
With flame and spore and crushing scale, the bad-things were defeated. It wasn’t a perfect process; more than once I took a careless blow, enough that I once again reached [Piercing Resistance - Intermediate II]. I told myself that it was on purpose, healed the damage with drops of life essence, and then promptly tried to forget about it.
By the end of the battle, [Spore Puppeteer] had almost finished the conversion process for two of the many-legged bad-things. Under the light of my nearby ore-flesh, I could just barely make out the way their legs twitched as the infested lay helpless on the ground, mirroring their brethren - who were also sometimes twitching, while others simply curled inwards. The first group differed only in that the others were definitely dead. Probably.
Another reason to hate legs. Nothing should be able to move so much when already dead. It just wasn’t right. And the thought-light confirmed that they were dead, flickering again and again throughout the fight.
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
Experience Gained!
While I waited for the remaining two bad-things to discover the light of the Great Core, I decided to recreate the [Little Guardian’s Focus] and statue depicting the Golem’s Core from my previous thought-light. It felt wrong to let it be wiped from existence. Even if I hadn’t picked [The Golem’s Echo] in this life, [The Golem’s Fading Heart] was more than enough.
My increased size made manipulating stone quicker than before; it wasn’t any easier, didn’t happen any more smoothly. I still struggled to achieve anything near the precision or ability that I had displayed while melding with [The Golem’s Echo] through [Guardianlink], but there was enough time. I knew where the nests and traps of the many-legged bad-things were, having discovered most of them in my false-life - ruined them, really, with [The Golem’s Echo] bursting straight through their threads in a series of extremely satisfying memories - and was well aware that there were no more many-legged bad-things in the immediate area.
The next, I would have to seek out.
So instead, I formed the [Little Guardian’s Focus] and the Golem’s Heart again. The [Little Guardian’s Focus] was just barely passable, almost as bad as the one that the disciples had created in the ruined many-nest, but it didn’t explode. The Great Core approved of my efforts, showing mercy despite my budding stoneshaping skills.
Then, finally, I moved on to something that I had been waiting for.
My mouth salivated.
The newest of the many-legged bad-things that had thrown themselves into the jaws of death were large, far larger than the Aridae and Webweavers that came before them. Propped up on all eight legs, the disgusting things came up to nearly a third of a not-Needle in height, each of them a dauntingly giant abomination.
Now, with my body being four times larger than its original size, I was starting to think that it might fit. With some effort. And some determination.
It just needed to be a little bit…
Crunch.
Lines of ichor spurted from cracked hard-flesh, bursting free under the pressure of [Constriction], only to dribble languidly down my scale-flesh. I twisted, finding a new position, and squeezed again, trying to remain determined.
Another leg brushed against me, twitching even in death. It was gross, horrible. I was sure that if I propped the thing up, it would try to walk, only to trip and fall as if it were propelled by actual, living - and yet still just as useless - legs.
I persevered, keeping my mind on the goal. It would all be worth it.
Finally, the legs stopped twitching. Because I crushed them again and again until they stopped. I was tempted to do the same to the two that I had converted; they looked much better without legs. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be able to move unless I could make them form some kind of tail, and I didn’t yet have a flesh-shaping ability.
One day, I supposed.
Either way, the corpses were finally small enough to swallow. [Constriction]’s enhancement strengthened my muscles enough that I was able to squeeze them into a more convenient size, and I was eager for the result.
The feast commenced.
Level 21 Darkweaver Consumed.
Transferred to Core.
Blooded Trait Acquisition Progress: 1/5.
…
Transferred to Core.
Blooded Trait Acquisition Progress: 5/5.
Analyzing Blooded Trait…
Acquiring Blooded Trait: [Ambusher’s Vision I]
My eyes tingled and itched as the stolen Trait took hold; my vision blurred, cleared, and blurred again. When it finally ended, the light of the [Little Guardian’s Focus] stabbed at me like a fang against eye-flesh. I flinched away, finding comfort in the darkness, away from the light that it gave off. It wasn’t nearly as dark as before, having changed with the introduction of [Ambusher’s Vision].
After a few moments to recover, I slowly turned my head in its direction again. The light of the Great Core could never be something to avoid; if there was pain, then I only needed to defeat it. If there was a problem, then I only needed to solve it.
I met the light head on, its rays piercing through me. I shuddered, wanting both to turn away and hold steady. My vision blurred ever so slightly.
And then, with a twitch of a new muscle at the corner of my eyes, a pair of membranes passed over eye-flesh. The light dimmed, no longer blinding. Pain-free.
I turned around again, and the darkness was just as consuming as it had been before [Ambusher’s Vision]. Then, repeating the same muscle flexion, the membranes moved back. The darkness grew less impenetrable. The light was painful again.
Interesting.
Content with the knowledge that I could avoid the negative effects of [Ambusher’s Vision] now that I knew how it worked, I turned back towards the crushed corpses around me.
I returned to my feast.
Level 23 Darkweaver Consumed.
Transferred to Core.
Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 1/10.
…
Transferred to Core.
Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 10/10
Blooded Trait: [Ambusher’s Vision I] Increased.
[Ambusher’s Vision II] Acquired.
Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 0/20.
By the time my feast was completed, [Ambusher’s Vision] upgraded one more time and my new spore puppets had long been ready. I positioned one ahead of me and one behind, instructing them to attack anything that came near, knowing that their [Ambusher’s Vision] would be stronger than my own.
Then, following the memories of my last false-life, I headed towards the first of the Darkweaver’s traps. Last time, [The Golem’s Echo] had slithered right through it before I even noticed it. This time, I’d be able to get a better look.
And who knew? Springing it might even be fun.
Zendran
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