Chapter 95: 95: Tavern Tale

The female-who-was-not-Needle had always been fast; it was one of the first things that I had noted about her, when it came to combat. While Coreless like Will tried to hold the line against bad-things with solid defenses, the-female-who-was-not-Needle simply flowed around them.

It was a sinuous grace. It was a deadly one.

I had managed to hold back the bad-things, giving time for my trapped Coreless to be freed. My efforts had even ended with the death of two, and the crippling of a third, filling it so thoroughly with slow-venom that it had collapsed not far from where [Chrono Fire] had recently trapped it. Even now, I could faintly see the rise and fall of its flesh, the bad-thing barely breathing with the creeping venom working against it.

Yet, for all her faults, the-female-who-was-not-Needle did not simply hold the bad-things back. She charged.

I twined myself around her lower arm as she ran, closing the distance. A touch of [Clinging Grasp] helped me hold firm, giving me the time I needed to wrap my coils more securely. After seeing the way that these bad-things fought, I knew that they wouldn’t last long.

The-female-who-was-not-Needle might have been the worst opponent for them - a thought-guess that she quickly proved true.

She rushed in fast, hardly giving the startled bad-things any time to react. The quickest among them began to charge; she never slowed, even when it seemed the bad-thing was already upon us.

Just as it lowered its head in preparation for impact, the Coreless twisted her body, spinning around the bad-thing’s charging bulk and slashing out with her fangs. The glowing ore-flesh cut deep, powered by a combination of mana and momentum that left ruined flesh in the place of the bad-thing’s flank. Just before she pulled away again, I struck out from my position around her wrist and landed a light bite, [Clinging Grasp] painfully ripping me away as she continued on.

We moved to the next as the thought-light flickered.

Experience Gained! Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

Not-Needle kept going, hardly slowed at all. Blood dripped from her fangs, the mana-light underneath giving the red fluid a baleful glow, creating a line of crimson light. She veered off before she reached the next, moving closer to the large-tunnel’s side; two more bad-things turned to follow, and - predictably - charge.

Without room to build up momentum, the otherwise-dangerous assault lost much of its bite. Even so, my Coreless did not choose to take the blows. Just before they intercepted her, she jumped up and kicked back off the wall with one leg, vaulting over two bad-things and landing safely on the other side.

A duo of loud cracks resounded from behind us, and I whipped my head around to see the bad-things slowly turning around again. I hissed loudly, [Sound Shaping] amplifying and directing the noise away from my Coreless’ ears. One of the bad-things stumbled as the sound crashed against its senses; one of its legs caught, sending it careening into the bad-thing beside it. They toppled to the ground, slowed even further.

My body jerked as the Coreless sank her fangs into another bad-thing, the motion of her arm dragging me along for the ride. I bit down hard, leaving my mark before the last of its life spilled away.

I wasn’t really necessary here, but I wasn’t above grabbing what reward I could. And reward, I certainly received.

Experience Gained! Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

Level up!

1 Trait Point Gained.

I hissed in satisfaction as we moved on to the next, throwing a beam of light directly into the bad-thing’s eyes. It reared up in panic, lashing out blindly with its forelegs. The-female-who-was-not-Needle slipped under the desperate attack, thrusting her fangs through the bad-thing’s chest before ripping the glowing ore-flesh outward. I let my fangs rake across its flesh, marking it with a light wound. It fell a moment later.

Experience Gained! Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

She handled the remaining bad-things with similar ease; by the time the two behind us had fully recovered and returned to the fight, they were all that remained. I threw the rest of my light reserves directly at their eyes, repeating the same trick as before.

Experience Gained! Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

Experience Gained! Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

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Finally, the-female-who-was-not-Needle stopped. Her breath came out in heavy pants, and a salty liquid seeped from her skin, coating my scale-flesh as I returned to my position at her shoulder. She wiped her fangs on one of the bad-thing corpses before putting them away, giving me a light scratch a moment later.

“That was pretty fun, huh?” she hissed breathlessly. She bared her teeth, and I recognized the expression on her lips - not a threat, but something else. I had seen it in my tiny Coreless often, and sensed its meaning through their Totems. Joy. Excitement. Delight.

It was only when she returned to the wall of rubble, finishing off the final bad-thing - still laboring for breath as it fought against the effects of my slow-venom - that it fell from her face. She looked up, lips twisting down. I recognized that one too; it was another common sight among the smallest of my Coreless, though I couldn’t spot any fluid leaking from her eyes.

“Well, shit. How in the Skies am I supposed to get back up now….” her voice trailed off. After a moment of thought, she bent down next to a nearby stone and pulled.

It didn’t budge.

The-female-who-was-not-Needle sat down with a sigh. “Guess we’re in for a wait, Little Guardian.”

Morgan tipped his head back, and his beer with it. It went down slowly, though part of him screamed to swallow it down and follow it with more. He didn’t, but not out of any inclination to keep himself from getting plastered. He wished that he could.

It was just so damn expensive. Verdant Grove was gone, after all, and until the Council managed to get some new trade deals going, the beer supply was as tight as the food supply.

Which was to say: very tight.

Still, Morgan had gladly - okay, not exactly gladly - paid the exorbitant cost. After another long day out in the World Dungeon, he needed it. Skies above, a Leaping Thresher had almost torn him apart.

He had almost died. Again.

Forcing himself to go out on hunts was becoming harder every day, duty be damned. That was Seeker work. Morgan was just a Guardsman, and happy with that - or he was, anyway.

The tavern door opened, and he flicked his eyes towards the newest patron before tipping his beer back again. Nothing. It was empty.

How did that happen?

Morgan stared down at the bottom of his glass accusingly, bleary eyes demanding the secrets of its disappearance. No answer came, and a woman’s voice pulled him away from his investigation.

“Two of whatever he’s having,” she said.

The bartender nodded, sliding two glasses over a moment later. The woman - a fellow member of the Guard, he realized, though he didn’t recognize her - gave him a nod.

“Hard day?” she asked.

Morgan snorted. “You know how it is, lately. Sometimes I don’t think I’ll make it to see tomorrow.”

She smiled, a strange light in her eyes. One hand pushed a glass towards him, while the other snaked towards a carving around her neck. For a second, Morgan could have sworn that it glowed.

“That I do,” she replied. “It’s been hard days all around.”

Morgan took the offered glass with a quiet thanks, tipping it back. When he brought it back down, the woman was still staring at him with that odd light in her eyes. She hadn’t touched her beer,hands too busy fiddling with the object around her neck.

“Say,” she said carefully, as if the weight of the world rested in that single word. “Would you like to hear a story?”

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