The Great Core's Paradox

Chapter 112: Flammable-Winged Bad-Things

Chapter 112: Flammable-Winged Bad-Things

Blue flames coated the entrance to the alcove, sputtering and spreading in turn. It seemed as if every time a tendril of flame died out as it turned gossamer wings into ash, another tendril reached out and set a new bad-thing alight. Lines of blue traced paths across the gray of the stone, forming ephemeral patterns that shifted from one moment to the next. Every so often, a stray spark began the blaze anew, finding its way to another clump of flammable-winged bad-things.

All the while, the thought-light continued to flicker, mixing verdant green with the brilliant blue that filled my vision.

It was beautiful; the crackling of the flames, the shrieking of the bad-things, and even the cackling of the Coreless whose shoulder I clung to. At the same time, it was near blinding in its intensity, the brilliant blue flames beginning to sear at my eyes.

I reached out and pulled, feeling the sweet relief as the flames began to dim, the bright edge of the light sucked into the light reservoirs provided by [Illusion Spark]. Despite that, the alcove was still dazzlingly radiant, the flames of [Mana Fire] both too far away and too bright to have their light stolen all at once.

My scale-flesh, full as if fit to burst with the light that I had stolen, ached - begging for release.

I gave it gladly.

A flare of stolen light ripped itself from my scale-flesh, aimed at the nearest of the flesh-twisted bad-things. It caught the revolting Blood of Tiamat in the midst of a brutal multi-limbed stab, causing it to shriek in pain and surprise as the light stabbed deeply into its eyes. Blinded and dazed, it stumbled forward when Will shifted to the side, unable to see what the Coreless was doing.

It met its end at the tip of an ore-flesh fang, having never seen its death approaching.

The droning buzz of the flying bad-things slowly became audible again as the crackles of the [Mana Fire] began to die down, flame-ridden bodies crumbling into piles of ash and ruined carapace. Embers flew up with every frenzied step of the flesh-twisted bad-things that walked through them, licking at their heels and searing their flesh, but the remaining flying bad-things were too far away; they lifted up to an even greater height, all but clinging to the surface of the alcoves ceiling.

The once-numerous hive had been slimmed down to less than a third of what it once was, but those who remained were furious. More than furious.

Enraged.

The droning built ever higher, and the flying creatures finally dove down. They pulled themselves from the safety of the heights, flinging their bodies down with wild abandon as if uncaring whether they lived or died. Maybe they really didnt care.

I sent another stream of [Mana Fire] at those on the outermost edges, whittling away at their numbers again, but the main forces of the attack were too close to us; even if they were struck by the flames, those flames would be turned on my Coreless when they finished their dive - and while I was almost entirely immune to damage from my own flames, my Coreless were not.

I couldnt risk it.

The-female-who-was-not-Needle cried out, yelling something at the others that I didnt manage to catch - and then the remnants of the hive were upon us.

It was only up close that I could make out the features that defined Tiamats twisted creations. They were too small, and the combination of distance and light had made observing them difficult.

Now, having finally closed the distance, I could see them for what they were.

Each of the flying bad-things were smaller than me in size, with bodies colored a deep red that bordered on black. Delicate gossamer wings erupted from their backs, the almost graceful nature of the fragile limbs a stark contrast with the brutality and rot of the rest of their bodies. Their mouths were filled with a series of serrated teeth, perfect for rending flesh, and each of their many legs were much the same - built almost entirely for the purpose of battle, with little regard to anything else.

The horrible things dripped rotting fluid as they flew closer, black ichor leaking from the growing cracks in their carapaces, and they almost seemed to be disintegrating with each and every moment - as if the only thing that had kept them alive was staying inside of the host-hive they had burst from, still wriggling uselessly on the floor near the entrance to the alcove.

I hissed as they flew closer, ripping my throat-flesh with the force of [Sound Shaping] required. The cloud of enemies roiled in response, a few of its inhabitants thrown from their chosen paths by the sudden noise and setting off a chain of interrupted dives as they crashed into one another.

But again, it was only a few. Far more carried on uninterrupted.

Slightly panicked, I bit down into the-female-who-was-not-Needles exposed flesh. She jerked in surprise as a stream of glistening gold ran down the hollows of my fangs, a large portion of my available mana shifted into life essence.

And then, as the cloud of bad-things finally hit us, I slipped towards the safety of her back and held on with [Clinging Grasp], protecting most of my length from attack.

Hard carapace crunched against even harder ore-flesh, shattering with the force of the bad-things charge. A few, however, found more sensitive spots; they ripped at flesh with razor-sharp forelimbs and serrated teeth, causing my Coreless to cry out. I peeked over her shoulder as she swept at them with fangs of ore-flesh, running the edge above the places where exposed skin allowed the disgusting things to cling.

Blood ran down her arms and she grunted in pain, but the wounds quickly knit themselves closed, [Life - Invigorating Bite] still running through her veins. The other Coreless behind us werent so lucky; the-female-who-was-not-Needle had taken the majority of the swarm, but quite a few had slipped past. [PAIN] and [RAGE] reached for me unbidden, flaring across the links to their Totems.

I whipped my head around to check on them, only to find a coating of smashed carapace on the ground behind us, the bad-things stomped to a pulp by the angry Coreless. Needle, who did not cover herself in as much ore-flesh as the other Coreless, lay on the ground. A quick sweep of each nearby [Little Guardians Totem] revealed that she was the only one in notable pain.

I dropped from the-female-who-was-not-Needles back and rapidly slithered towards the fallen Coreless. The Unrepentant One ran past me, crunching fallen bad-things underfoot, while the newest male Coreless kneeled beside Needle and wrapped a long stretch of threaded skins around her bleeding leg. Needle grunted along with each pull of the skins, face stretched into a pained grimace.

Red soaked the white of the skins, running from the wounds.

Fucking Skies, that hurts like a bitch, she moaned. How am I supposed to stop things like that with arrows, damn it!

The male Coreless pulled tight on the wrapping of skins and she let out another moan as he tied the end off.

Sorry, Kala. Dont want you losing too much blood before that gets fixed. Im still not sure if the snakes healing can do anything about blood loss.

I know, Rowan, she snapped, [irritation] and [pain] flooding through her [Little Guardians Totem]. Im still gonna fucking complain, though. This sucks. Needle sucked in a shuddering breath, exhaling a moment later. Go, Ill be fine.

He nodded, picking up his ore-flesh tipped rod and moving to reinforce the Coreless behind me.

Needle held out a hand as I slithered closer, pulling me towards her wounded leg with a sense of [resolve] and more than a little [anger]. I thought for a moment, looking over the wounds, trying to figure out what to do. I only had so much mana at a time, and using it all to heal Needle might mean that someone else could die later.

In the end, I decided to heal her enough that she could fight, saving the rest for later. Unlike the other Coreless, Needle didnt need to be extremely mobile. As long as nothing was trying to reach her, she only needed to be able to stand.

I bit down, activating [Life - Invigorating Bite] again.

Golden liquid dripped from my fangs.