My scale-flesh scratched lightly against the surface of the small-tunnel as I slithered back to the mana-water cavern. I could hear the steady drip-drop of mana-water, slowly spilling down from the stone-spikes above in brilliant little beads of light. I could hear a bad-thing’s roar in a far-off tunnel, echoing off the World Dungeon’s walls. I could hear my own breath, run ragged by the remnant effects of the bad-dreams.
I could hear my fear.
Still, I slithered on.
There were more important things than my fear.
The war in the mana-water cavern had long since ended. Judging by the rampant activity in the network of threads above, as well as the increased number of thread-wrapped figures limply bundled, the Aridae had won. In a way, it was relieving.
If they had lost so easily, what would that have meant about me?
Would that have convinced the Great Core to give up on me entirely?
Instead, they had won. Not without cost, of course. Here and there, I could see little bits and pieces of defeated Aridae, miraculously surviving the feast of the Festering Rats. A tiny slice of a leg, splayed against a glow-cap’s stalk, its little black hairs soaked in blood. A squashed chunk of eye, trampled by swarming legs. A hunk of fang, piercing the upper edges of a glow-cap’s head.
I had hoped to scavenge a few Aridae corpses. I only needed four more for the Blooded Trait that the thought-light had shown me. That hope was dashed.
The Festering Rats had left nothing of the defeated behind.
I cocked my head upwards, examining the thriving network of the ceiling above. After a few moments, I found the object of my greatest hatred: the Aridae mother. She was feasting upon a number of the bundles that were covered in a strange fluid, sucking up their predigested remains.
All around her, other Aridae had joined the victory feast - some receiving larger portions than others. Still, I could see that most of her children had joined in. Even the infants had received their small portions, gleefully devouring the defeated bad-things.
While they were distracted by the feast, I slithered into the mana-water pool, slipping into its shining depths. Just as before, my body took to the mana-water like it had been shaped for it, allowing me to wriggle in steady, smooth crescents that cut through depths. I breached the surface, opening my mouth to swallow a stream of mana-water as I did so. It slipped down my throat, shifting into that now-familiar lukewarm state and traveling to my mana core. It had nearly run dry, with the strain of the imbuing my venom. Though [Mana Venom I] increased its potency so visibly, it was not something that was easy to maintain.
The mana-water on its own contained nowhere near the sheer power of that which had been imbued by the flame-gaze bad-thing’s mana. It did not burn my insides in its passage; it did not boil my blood in its wake. Still, I did not need it to. The flame-gaze bad-thing’s presence had already allowed me to form a minor mana core. It had already seared its mark into my body.
Now, I needed only to fill the vessel it had created. It was a slow process. I was sure that the mana-water nearer to clusters of Dungeon Cores would have been more effective, allowing me to recharge my mana core in a far lesser amount of time. Here, distant from any gathered Cores, suffused only by the perpetual presence of the World Dungeon itself, the mana-water was far weaker.
It was enough, as I was now.
The mana filled me, taking its place within the small mana core upon my head-scales. The savage storm formed, twisting in the space above the placid pool that lay below it. I used it while I could.
The Aridae were feasting above me, distracted by their recent victory. Soon, they would begin to be affected by the sickness of the Festering Rats, I hoped. Maybe not to the extent that I had, but I couldn’t be sure. They consumed their food differently than I did, and they might even possess resistances to the sickness. Either way, I would need to be prepared.
I would likely have my best chance to thin their numbers, today.
I tamed the storm of mana, bringing it to heel. I swirled the pool below, binding it to my own rage. The two forces met, forming a balance. The mana began to flow under my will, shifting with my intent, broken from its rest within the core. It streamed down the channels I had created, pressing against the boundaries and edges, yet never quite breaking past. It flooded into my stored venom, imbuing it with its power.
My fatigue grew. My mana core emptied.
But I wasn’t done.
I filled myself with mana-water again, drinking it down with a gluttony born of the most powerful sort of greed - the longing for revenge. The longing for power. The longing for safety.
The mana-water shifted. I drank again. Again. Again.
My core overflowed once more, and I brought that brimming mana to bear, suffusing my venom with its power.
I had begun to tire, but I didn’t stop.
I gorged myself again. Streams of mana flowed through me like a constant river, an inexorable tide towards their final destination.
My mind grew hazy, my body weak.
The thought-light flickered.
Lesser Core Skill: [Mana Manipulation II] Increased.
[Mana Manipulation III] Acquired.
I kept going, though my entire being fought against me. My vision blurred and closed in at the edges, fading into darkness. A buzzing filled my ears, an unending drone that sent a spike of paranoia through me.
Still, I drank.
Still, I transferred the growing pool of mana.
Still, I endured.
I didn’t know how long it lasted. I lost track of everything but the unending flow, everything but the storm, the pool, and my venom. I felt an agonizing burn, as if being seared from the inside out, pulsing to the rhythm of my heartbeat. It beat down in waves, each threatening to drown me. Each threatening to break me.
Still, I drank.
Still, I shifted the growing pool of mana.
Still, I endured.
The thought-light flickered.
Lesser Core Skill: [Mana Manipulation III] Increased.
[Mana Manipulation IV] Acquired.
I slumped, slipping down into the depths below. My vision had narrowed into a pinpoint, a tiny spot of brilliant blue light surrounded by an unending darkness. Buzzing filled my ears. Blood touched my tongue, collecting in my mouth.
I shook myself tiredly, rousing before the mana-water could fill my lungs. My length wriggled through the pool’s depths, trudging along with a shape closer to a line than a proper crescent. The mana-water pressed down upon me, ushering me downwards. Pushing me back.
Still, I endured.
My lungs burned, yet the burn was nothing compared to the searing pulses that already assaulted my insides. My vision blurred, yet the blur was nothing compared to the tunnel of black that already enveloped my sight. My mind screamed, yet the terror was nothing compared to the fear of the Great Core’s abandonment.
I would prove myself.
Whatever it took.
After what seemed an eternity, I broke the surface, spilling onto the shore. My breath came out in rasping hisses, all but hidden behind the buzzing in my ears. I looked upward, the movement slow and weak, my strength destroyed by pain and fatigue. The Aridae’s feast had finished, in the time that I spent within the mana-water pool.
Even through my blurred, blackened vision, I could see the weakest among them begin to succumb to the festering sickness. It was subtle, but it was there. Their legs wobbled slightly as they walked among the threads; here and there, tightly-wound threads thrummed lightly in response to a misstep.
Others among them had taken to their nests, found in the nooks and crannies of the greatest of the stone-spikes, enormous weaves of shimmering thread that gave easy purchase for the Aridaes’ bodies. The greatest-affected among them were a little harder to pick out. They were a little too still. My vision a little too impaired. My thoughts a little too clouded.
Still, I could see the smallest among them occasionally twitch, beset by the bad-dreams. Hopefully, the older ones would soon follow.
Either way, even in the haze of my overloaded body, I knew that this would be my best chance for a long while.
The cluster of Aridae was at its weakest point. I, despite my agony, was likely at my strongest yet.
I only needed four.
I wanted more.