The Great Core's Paradox - Chapter 273: Inferno

I held on tight with [Clinging Grasp], doing my best to not humiliate the Great Core by falling from the-female-who-was-not-Needle’s shoulders mid-stride. It was not easy; as the wind created by her mana-enhanced speed threatened to rip me from her shoulders once more, I even contemplated putting a few more Trait Points into enhancing the effect. Only the timely intervention of not-Needle’s hand prevented me from doing so, holding me fast before I could fly free.

Behind us, the forest of plant-flesh was falling behind – as were those who had followed, none even approaching the speed that the-female-who-was-not-Needle could reach. And behind even those were the stragglers, the slowest of the bunch.

My Coreless-self was one of those stragglers. His strides, though devouring more distance with each step than any other, were slowed by my need to save on the death mana required to keep the body moving. Already, it was beginning to lose the level of mana saturation that allowed me to take control of it personally, and would soon become just another reanimated Coreless that commanded like any other.

At least, until I infused enough death mana yet again. For now, I wasn’t willing to do that. While controlling a Coreless myself was fairly novel, I had a feeling that the powers I possessed would soon be necessary.

Because, before we had left, the Coreless of the tower-nest had thrown themselves into a frenzy. The-female-who-was-not-Needle had become [angry]. The Grateful One had become [angry]. Will had become [angry]. Needle had become [angry]. Even the Unrepentant One had become [angry], after he wandered back to the group from somewhere else in the tower-nest.

Even as my disciples prepared themselves, sharpening their fangs of ore-flesh to an absurd degree, the less physically-inclined Coreless were proving just as agitated. Many of them set about carving into blocks of darkwood, quickly harvested from a branch of the massive offspring of the Darkwood Guardian at the plant-flesh forest’s heart. The branch soon became a multitude of proto-[Little Guardian’s Totem]s, formed in an admirable frenzy of [urgency] – and, for some, a far less admirable [panic] – among the Coreless. I didn’t know where the sudden urge to proselytize came from, but I approved.

More than one Coreless cut themselves deeply in their haste; a few briefly hissed or wept at the [pain], but only for the brief moment required for the healing power of the [Little Guardian’s Focus]es to build their flesh anew. Then, as if nothing happened, they simply continued.

“…will need to make sure we have enough for any who need it,” I had heard the-female-who-was-not-Needle say, grabbing a pile of darkwood carvings and placing them before me. I pressed my head closer, noting the streaks of red – of blood still not yet dried – upon much of the pile and activated [Little Guardian’s Totem], forming more examples of the power’s namesake. I ignored another pang of [panic] from a lone [Little Guardian’s Totem] somewhere across the cavern. With so many Coreless feeling tumultuous emotions at once, I didn’t have time to check each and every one.

“…Statue reach far enough, or will he need to make another one?”

With a surprising degree of tiredness, I then pulled myself free from the pile. While [Little Guardian’s Totem] didn’t strain me as much as it used to, creating so many at once still wasn’t something I could do without any effort. The-female-who-was-not-Needle had scooped up the results of my work with one hand, tossing them into a giant skin-mouth held by another Coreless, and then plucked me from the ground with her other hand, depositing me upon her shoulder to rest.

“It might be close. Depends on the tower. Go ahead and get them all attuned before we leave, just in case,” she then said, turning towards where I knew the [Little Guardian’s Focus]es were and motioning in their direction. The Coreless raced off in response to the noises not-Needle made, skin-mouth clutched tight against his chest.

Not long after, Needle – who, following conversation with the other disciples, had ascended to the very top of the nearby tower-nest – returned to the forest where the rest of us waited. By then, I could sense that the skin-mouth full of spore-puppet infested seeds I used for creating forests of plant-flesh had been strapped to another Coreless’ side, the skin-mouth containing the many newly-created [Little Guardian’s Totem]s strapped to the side of another.

By then, I had to admit that I was a little lost. Something had happened – but what, I had no idea. Blasphemers? Tiamat? Bad-things?

Or something else?

Once again, I had no real way of knowing. I could only know that there was something going on from the emotions displayed by my connection to the Great Core’s Coreless, but I couldn’t know what the something was until I saw it.

“There’s a fire,” Needle then said, looking rather [grim]. She pointed in a direction, and then continued. There was another pang of [panic] in the same direction of her motion, as if to accentuate the harsh sounds she was already making. “Over there. That’s probably not a coincidence. I think we know where they’ve gone.”

“A…fire?” the Coreless that had returned alongside The Grateful One jabbered back in halting tones. “I don’t see why they would…what’s the point?”

“Who knows? Could even be an accident. It’s easy to set a fire during a fight; just knock a torch over once, and the blaze could spread out of control during the chaos. Either way, it lets us know where they are,” Will cut in, his eyes simultaneously hard and shining with wetness. He turned towards the-female-who-was-not-Needle.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Go,” he’d then said. “Get there first; we’ll be coming after you. Take the seeds and the [Little Guardian’s Totem]s with you. If they’re already gone, start with healing the ones who need it. If they’re still there…get ready for us to join you.”

Once he finished, the-female-who-was-not-Needle set off In a blur of motion that set my head spinning, plucking the two skin-mouths from the grasp of the Coreless who carried them and dashing off to in the direction that Needle had pointed.

Which led to my current situation, only barely avoiding an embarrassing inability to hold tight to the accelerating Coreless’ form as she dashed through the darkness with speed that far surpassed anything the other Coreless were capable of. Flickers of [panic] pressed against me from both ahead and behind – and, as the sudden intervention of not-Needle’s hand allowed me enough breathing room to avoid flying from my place on her shoulder – I finally checked on the single source of [panic], separate from the rest.

I quickly found out I was wrong.

While it was only a single [Little Guardian’s Totem], it wasn’t a single source of [panic]. It was just the only one I could sense.

Fire crackled in the panicking Coreless’ ears, sending pillars and beams of darkwood into a foreboding series of creaks. His breath came in desperate heaves, full of rasps and shudders, and the senseless sounds of a Coreless endlessly spilled off his tongue.

“…still here?” he shouted, stumbling towards a flame-covered moving-wall. There was coughing coming from somewhere behind it, and two quiet cries. A body lay in front of the flaming moving-wall, motionless. For a moment, I thought that a moving-wall had actually managed to defeat something, but no.

The body had been stabbed by a set of fangs I recognized all too well, the blows sharp enough even to damage the moving-wall in front of which the now-dead Coreless had stood.

It was the blasphemers, I realized; the very same attack that, had I not saved myself with [Transient Reanimation], would have sent me back to when I’d devoured the Death Core.

I’d never forget the markings of an attack that so disrespected the Great Core’s work. To do so would be a disrespect of my own.

Suddenly, I understood the reason for my disciples’ urgency and anger.

Ignoring the body, the Coreless whose perspective I was following heaved himself forward with an [exhausted] sort of effort, slamming into the fiery moving-wall. The moving-wall cracked and splintered, but its new skin of flame bit back, sinking its heated fangs into the Coreless’ flesh. He sank back with a pained shriek – but only for a moment. Then, heart full of [resolve], he assaulted the moving-wall again.

It shattered beneath his might.

Three Coreless, an older female and two young ones, lay within the smoke-filled room. A thick beam of wood, cracked and broken and charred at the edges, lay over the largest of the trio and pinned her in place. A Coreless, the smaller of the two little ones, hid in the back, peeking out from underneath one of the sleeping-nests that the Coreless preferred, as if too afraid to come out. The larger of the two hovered over the older female, yanking at the beam that kept her trapped.

She yanked, and yanked, and yanked, but even I could tell it wasn’t going to help.

She was already dead.

A wave of [sorrow] shot through the connection, and I heard the sounds of the Coreless again, oddly reverberating through what felt like my very own throat. “Come on, little ones,” he said softly, holding out his hands. He coughed, and they coughed with him. I could feel the smoke in his lungs. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“But Mama needs help!” one of them said, still pulling at the heavy beam and refusing to let go. She shrieked when the Coreless pulled her free, tucking her under his arm, just as he had done with the other, even smaller Coreless. “Mama!”

As she continued to sob, the Coreless dashed back through the flames of the ruined moving-wall; another set of flames quickly met him, and then another, and another. He ran through each, heedless of the way that it burned against his skin, moving downward towards the bottom of the tower-nest. There, as he reached the bottom, I noticed a blocked-off entrance; a heap of debris, far too heavy for the Coreless to move, blocked the moving-wall that led outside.

Four more Coreless, two older women and two little ones, worked to move the debris blocking their escape. I could tell that it was far too heavy for them to move. They were covered in soot, their clothes were ragged, and sweat dripped off their skin.

In contrast to their continuing health, at least ten bodies littered the floor. They were, one and all, devastated by the same piercing attacks that the blasphemers preferred, evidenced by the holes left in the walls where the strikes had continued to pierce the air behind their targets.

Meanwhile, the faithful who I was following all but threw himself against the outer wall in his haste – and, the moment that he did so, I could understand why.

The healing of his [Little Guardian’s Totem] finally activated, just barely reaching the range of the trio of [Little Guardian’s Focus]es that I’d made within the forest of plant-flesh.

He held it out from his body, hand clenched around it, and crowed in triumph. Already, I could tell that his voice was clearer, throat healing from the havoc wreaked upon it.

“Quick, children,” he urged, “put your hands on the necklace!”

When they didn’t respond to whatever he said, he reached out to each of their hands, placing one of their fingers upon the surface of the [Little Guardian’s Totem]; the instant that he did, my perspective warped. Instead of riding alongside one Coreless’ point of view, I was in three.

I felt a torrent of [pain], [grief], and overwhelming [confusion] – but I could also feel the slight [relief] of their healing wounds. And then, under the strain of holding three different points of view at once, I was forced to let the connection release.

I woke up back in my own body, only seconds away from reaching the tower-nest, and the inferno that consumed it. As the-female-who-was-not-Needle continued to run, I turned my head to the side, noting a vast number of moving lights far off in the distance, heading away from where we stood at a rapid pace.

Just as I turned my head back toward the tower-nest, the-female-who-was-not-Needle stopped and stood on the shore of the black-water, staring at the debris-laden entrance to the tower-nest. I could hear the screams of the few Coreless trapped inside, and I could tell, by the utter [need] flowing through our connection, that she wanted nothing more than to head into the tower-nest and find them. But there was a problem – all of the not-sinks were gone, broken or shattered.

There was no safe way for us to get across.