The Great Core's Paradox

Chapter 39: Molten Bite

The Coreless each made their noises at the sight, competing with the gnashing of the bad-things mandibles in a useless competition of noise. Rather than waste my time with that, I remained silent. Instead, my length worked its way down the female Coreless side. All the while, I kept myself focused, shifting the light that covered my scale-flesh to match the ore-flesh upon which I traveled.

It was a difficult process, forcing my slithers to slow nearly to a standstill, but I made it to the ground. As I touched the waiting stone, I began to shift each section of my scale-flesh in turn - first my head, then my length, followed by the rest of my tail.

It wasnt as smooth as I would have liked, and I was sure that I could have been easily spotted. Hopefully, the bad-things would be too focused on the Coreless to be paying attention to me.

Once I was on the stone entirely, things became easier. It was a uniform color, and its darkness blended in well with the tunnel behind us. It was much easier on me, with my still-growing ability to manipulate [Illusion Spark]. It was far less to focus on.

In a fight, that might mean everything.

With a torturous slowness, I worked my way to the side of the tunnel, searching for a nearby wall-crack in which to hide. I wasnt planning on leaving; I had already resolved to stay and fight.

That didnt mean I was stupid.

A battle like this wasnt what I was created for, I was sure. I wasnt made to stomp into battle with huge, clumsy feet that hammered against the stone. I wasnt crafted to swing great fangs of ore-flesh that could rend through hard-flesh like it didnt even exist.

I was made for something different.

And so I sat within my wall-crack and waited for my opportunity to strike.

It wasnt long in coming.

I let a few bad-things pass by, joining the fight against the Coreless. They were surrounded, just as Will had been. And yet, they were facing far fewer enemies.

Most of the bad-things had not yet caught up.

The male Coreless took the front blocking the charge of the largest of the Flame Formicans. It was a less impressive display than it sounded - giant as he was, it didnt require much effort.

The Flame Formicans strength was in their overwhelming numbers, not their size.

He crushed it under his heel, careful to avoid the mandibles that clicked and clacked, dripping with molten stone. As the drops hit the ground, they sizzled in a way that made my scale-flesh flinch.

Though I had strengthened my resolve, I still didnt want to die - especially not from that.

I wasnt crazy.

As my small store of mana began to dwindle, shoved into my venom, I saw my chance. A small bad-thing crawled down the wall in front of me - a baby, by any measure.

The perfect target.

I reared back from within the cramped confines of my wall-crack, my scale-flesh feeling as if it thrummed in anticipation.

I struck before it could even react, crossing the distance between us in a blur of motion. My fangs closed around it. As small as it was, I still almost failed to pierce through its hard-flesh.

Almost.

A little bit of venom was all that it took.

It was over.

I had won.

The thought-light flickered in congratulations, praising me for my victory.

Experience Gained!

In the blink of an eye, I consumed my defeated foe, carefully shifting my scales with [Illusion Spark] to keep myself concealed.

Level 0 Flame Formican Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Blooded Trait Acquisition Progress: 2/5.

I retreated back into my wall-crack and examined the battle that raged on. The bad-things numbers had only increased, despite the efforts of the Coreless. Piles of corpses lay around them, the scent-taste of blood making my mouth salivate.

I knew that, if I could only manage it safely, consuming what was already there might give me a massive spike in power.

Safety was the problem, though.

The Flame Formicans threw themselves against the Coreless in fury, heedless of the way that their brethren had fallen. Mindless. And yet, despite the mindlessness, they were wearing the Coreless down.

I could see the way that their shoulders rapidly rose and fell, the way that their chests heaved and their lungs gasped.

If it werent for their protective shell of ore-flesh, they would have already fallen. The parts that were not covered had already begun to pay the toll of flesh. If it werent for the way that they protected each other's backs, it would have been far more costly.

Most of the bad-things had slipped by me now, converging in a mass upon their enemies.

If the Coreless were to have any chance to survive - and they needed to, if I was going to survive, now that the bad-things were so close by - I needed to move quickly.

I pulled myself from my wall-crack, matching my scales to the stone as I slithered. As I grew closer, things became a bit harder. Brief splashes of crimson blood traced along my length, courtesy of unavoidable puddles, causing me to leave a trail in my wake.

My concentration deepened, and the reservoirs within my scales emptied further. For a small distance behind me, the trail of blood turned black, blending in with the stone.

I might have hissed in celebration at my increase in skill with [Illusion Spark], but it required far too much focus. As I moved, the area that I needed to effect moved with me, stopping me from simply finding the light that I needed and basking in my success.

The further that I moved from a spot, the more of my reservoirs were required to hold the illusion. My stores were draining rapidly. Finally, though, I reached the back of the gathered bad-things.

I froze in place, using as little of my gathered light and heat as possible while still concealing myself. Waiting for the reservoirs within my scale-flesh to begin to fill again.

The next few moments would be dangerous, and I needed the edge.

The bad-things rolled over one another like a scrambling tide, their mandibles click-clacking incessantly, as if trying to bite at the Coreless ahead of them despite the distance. Oddly enough, that strange eagerness worked in our favor; every so often, one of the Flame Formicans crushed the hard-flesh of another that happened to fall into the space between its mandibles. Under those mandibles that could crack and melt stone, the hard-flesh failed.

Due to that, there were plenty of crippled bad-things for me to choose from.

Why ambush a healthy enemy when I could make things more certain for myself by attacking one that was already injured? Most importantly, the hard-flesh of the injured bad-things had already been broken. I had no doubts that my fangs would break through what little remained.

If they were whole, things would be less certain. The newly-born bad-thing that I had already consumed had given my fangs enough trouble. If their hard-flesh hardened over time or as their levels increased, I wasnt sure what I would do.

Fortunately, even if that were the case, it was unlikely that any of the gathered bad-things would be of a high level. Due to swarming their enemies in the way that they did, each of them would only receive a tiny amount of the reward.

That way of fighting should make them weak enough individually for me to defeat, possessing the gifts of the Great Core as I did.

Despite that, I decided to select my targets carefully.

I slowly slithered along the backlines of the bad-things, searching for the weakest among them - and when I found them, I struck, hidden within the safety of [Illusion Spark], aiming for targets that had already been weakened. Taken by surprise, they died quickly. Each time, the thought-light flickered to congratulate me on my victory.

Finally, it told me something new.

Experience Gained! Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

Level 1 Flame Formican Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Blooded Trait Acquisition Progress: 5/5.

Analyzing Blooded Trait

Acquiring Blooded Trait: [Molten Bite I]

The Great Core changed me once more.

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