The Great Core's Paradox

Chapter 249: Seeing Where Things Lead

The first Coreless that I raised ended up being more than enough to turn the tide of battle, though I couldnt do much more than give vague commands. Occasionally, when his mind managed to momentarily use my distraction to pull itself ever-so-slightly out of the dark that I had shoved it in, I found myself with a greater understanding of the battle; flashes of his perspective crowded the edge of my vision, something similar to when I rode the perspective of my [Little Guardians Totem] bearers, if a bit weaker. Less consistent - though maybe that would have changed if he wasnt shoved so far into the dark.

I didnt let him out, though. I could tell that if I did that, he would stop fighting the other Coreless.

The distraction that he provided allowed me to sneak closer to one of the other Coreless, and I did to that one what I had done to the first - and like the first, he fell to the ground in a screaming heap, death essence spreading through his body. I used more that time; my experience with the first was enough for me to know that any leftover death essence when he died wouldnt be wasted. Instead, it would be what kept the body moving.

Because of that, unlike the first, he died fast.

Even without the thought-light, I would have felt his death. [Life Hunter] activated again - and again, it wasnt nearly enough to bring me back from my undeath. But that was okay; I wasnt worried about that. I had time.

As the Coreless life force entered my body, I twisted at the death essence that remained in his, cutting off the thought-lights message.

Mana-Infused ./././.././ D-

Then, hiding in my safe-place within the floor again, tail held firmly in my mouth and mana already beginning to restore itself, I set my newest minion to work.

By then, my victory was all but guaranteed.

I pulled free from my safe-place for the last time, [The Golems Fading Heart] forcing stone to smooth itself out in front and behind me as I moved. Five new minions greeted me, each with lines of black slithering across their skin, each set of black gifted to a new Coreless during the times I had slithered back up to the surface - something that had only become easier as the blasphemous Coreless became outnumbered by their undead counterparts. Some of those undead were barely holding themselves together; the first Coreless that I had brought back was almost entirely ruined, his throat cut deeply enough to make his head wobble just a little more than it should have. More importantly, the death essence keeping him moving was almost gone, the final dregs still doing their best to stitch his skin back together.

It failed, the well of power drying up, and the corpse toppled with a clatter of ore-flesh.

Mana-Infused ./././.././ Defeated.

Calculating ./././.././ Strength.

Requisite Experience Awarded. Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

Level up x1!

1 Trait Point Gained.

I slithered forward as the thought-light vanished again, deciding not to ignore the Coreless hiding in the corner. He hid behind a mouth of darkwood, trembling slightly.

The blasphemers had turned on him earlier, backing him into a corner and threatening him with the same ore-flesh that had pushed me into undeath; maybe he thought that they were still a danger to him?

I flexed my will, causing one of the undead Coreless to raise his hand and move it back and forth, mimicking the same motion that I had seen many of the Great Cores Coreless use to greet one another in the past. I even tried to have him make the same sound as they did, but I didnt think that I got that one right.

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Blurgh, my undead spit out. It was hard to force him to make the right noises without lifting his mind out of the dark, and especially hard when I didnt remember exactly which noises he should be making. I could have tried to let the once-blasphemers mind free enough to greet the trembling Coreless himself, but I wasnt sure that I trusted him to do it. He had already proven to make poor decisions, and I doubted his brief time under the light of the Great Core had been enough to break him away from that.

Eh. My attempt was probably close enough, anyway. The Coreless stopped shaking, at least, the hairs above his eyes raising.

He moved his hand through the air in return, proving my success. That was exactly what I expected him to do!

I was good at this.

He said something, but I had already moved on, slithering closer to my once undead and now entirely-dead minion and sinking my fangs into his flesh. Death essence, already mostly refilled through [Mana Restoration] while I hid in the ground, passed from fang to flesh.

It did nothing but force the body to degrade further.

I hissed with disappointment; I had hoped that I would be able to bring him back, but it seemed like there was a time limit. Maybe the reward given by the thought-light for his death marked the point of no return?

I turned, looking towards the other dead Coreless in the cavern, much of his body ripped apart by the same attack that had killed me. One of his limbs hung limp and heavy from the side of his sleep-surface, and I slithered closer to it. The still-living Coreless in the cavern were oddly silent.

A quick bite proved that I couldnt bring him back, either. I wasnt surprised. [Transient Reanimation] had its limits, and one of those was apparently speed. It seemed like there was dead, and there was too dead. I needed to use it before it was too late.

It was a little depressing, since I had a brief hope that I could use [Transient Reanimation] to keep the Great Cores Coreless alive - undead? - no matter what happened to them, ensuring that those who served the Great Core would eventually overpower all of their enemies through sheer numbers through being unable to permanently die as long as I existed to revive them, but it hadnt been a realistic hope anyway. I doubted that I would be able to keep many undead moving at once, even if there weren't any limits on how long they could stay dead before [Transient Reanimation] stopped working. I only had so much death essence to go around, and their undeath constantly drained at what bits I filled them with; I would have had to pick and choose the strongest Coreless for revival, and just leave all of the others dead.

A horde of the faithful undead would have never worked out.

Still, it was good that I knew some of [Transient Reanimation]s limitations now.

With that done, I turned my attention back towards the still-watching Coreless. They hadnt moved, still attached to their sleep-surfaces.

Whichof course they were. They couldnt get off of them. That was the point of the threads of ore-flesh that kept them there. I had forgotten.

With a quick mental command, my remaining four undead Coreless each moved towards a different sleep-surface.

The sounds of ore-flesh against ore-flesh rapidly filled the cavern.

It took longer than I expected for the first of the threads to snap, but eventually they did.

David watched, having a hard time believing what he was seeing. His mind felt frayed, having gone through too many conflicting emotions too quickly. First there was seeing the Ascended, and the fear that came with it. Then there was noticing the armor draped across its scales and the healing it was providing to the infirmarys injured, and the relief that followed. Then there was watching the thing seemingly die - and David was pretty certain that it actually had died, considering what came afterwards. Watching Garrick actually die. Being threatened by the guards for not tossing null-water at the Ascended. Seeing Devon die and come back to life - and on and on it went.

He was feeling extremely overwhelmed.

By the time that the possibly-dead-but-definitely-not Ascended turned the previously hostile guards towards breaking the chains that kept the infirmarys patients attached to their beds, that overwhelmed feeling had turned into a helplessness that just urged him to go along with whatever the tiny Ascended wanted and hope that it turned out for the best.

That didnt stop him from stripping Devons corpse, though. The mans gear had seen better days, but David hadnt had such good gear in all his days. He probably could have never hoped to. It fit pretty well, all things considered. Only chafed a little bit and, really, Devons weird dead person smell wasnt that bad. Itd wash off.

He decided to chalk it all up as a win.

Possible freedom? Riches in the form of suddenly ownerless enchanted gear? A possible connection to either an Ascended friendly enough to heal people (as long as they didnt attack it, at least) or someone that had tamed an Ascended well enough that it could be sent out on its own?

The more he thought about it, the better it all seemed. David had hated being stuck in the mines, anyway. Might as well see where things led.