Chapter 22: Aspiring Disciples

“...really should just kill the thing while it’s weak, Valera.”

“Doran! How could you say that? Look at the little guy, just sleeping on Kala’s shoulder. It’s adorable.”

I twitched irritably, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. My scale-flesh ached. My mind needed rest. The Coreless kept making noises.

“I see where he’s coming from, to be honest. He may look small and harmless now, but he is an Ascended minion created by a Core with a rare aspect.”

“See? Erik gets it. And he’s definitely bigger than he was the first time we saw him, already. What happens if he keeps getting bigger at this rate?”

“Doesn’t that just make it a better idea to keep him? Imagine it! A cute little snake, all grown up, taking down Dungeons for humanity. Wouldn’t that be great?”

“First of all, we can’t use the Cores if he ends up eating them all. Second, you’re forgetting something. He doesn’t even like you. Kala, maybe, but you? No.”

There was a hush for a moment, a brief time where the Coreless finally ceased their relentless noises. It was bliss. Just as I began to settle back into wonderful sleep, I heard a light ringing, like the sound of ore-flesh on stone. A rock skittered into the distance, bouncing away. I kept trying to sleep, doing my best to ignore it.

“I guess that’s true. But if he likes Kala, then he could like me, too. He just has to get used to me.” The female’s noises were a little strangled now, almost quiet enough to let me fall back into my slumber.

“Valera…”

“Just - let’s just try it out first, okay? Give it a chance, at least while he’s still weak enough to be easily managed. If that starts to change...I guess we can decide, then.”

“Might as well.” I felt a rumbling close by as Needle, who had been silent up until now, began to make noises of her own. “She’s right about the snake being potentially useful. There’s theories that monsters can sniff out nearby Dungeon Cores. If that’s true, we might be able to use him to find the Core that created the Infernal Cyclops we fought earlier, if it’s anywhere close by.”

“Ha! Kala wants to keep him.”

“Fine. We’ll keep the thing around for now. Don’t come crying to me if it bites you, Valera.”

Finally, they fell silent, and I drifted off to sleep again.

The rhythmic bouncing of Needle’s steps pulled me from my slumber. I yawned lightly, my tongue flicking out and tasting the air. The smell of blood was long behind us - or, at least, the smell of new blood. The World Dungeon was in a state of perpetual conflict; I would have been surprised to not catch even a hint of past battle. Still, the scent of old blood was faint, only lightly pressing down upon my tongue.

More importantly, I had no idea where we were. The Coreless, with their giant legs that could eat away at the distance, could travel much faster than my own slithering would allow. It was concerning, not knowing where I was, but it didn’t matter in the end.

No matter where I was, I was no longer home.

I never would be again.

The thought ripped a light hiss from my lips, born more of grief than rage. I was still angry at the Coreless, of course, but I had realized something earlier. They were an opportunity, created for me by the Great Core.

Though it pained me to admit it, I might not have been able to complete my revenge without Needle’s offering. The Aridae mother had been far larger than I, and the speed at which I fell asleep afterwards spoke of the overwhelming amount of energy the battle against her cluster had stolen from me - and considering how close to me she had fallen after being pierced by Needle’s needle-fang, she had been in the process of sneaking up on me.

That might not have gone well.

But, in the end, the Great Core had paved the way for me - creating begging disciples from its former enemies. It was astounding, and yet more proof of the Great Core’s might.

“Oh, looks like the snake’s finally awake now. Time to see if it comes in handy like you hoped, Valera.” After making a few noises towards the female-who-was-not-Needle, the male Coreless gestured towards Needle. “Kala, put the snake down and we’ll see if it finds anything. We had to have gotten somewhat close to that Cyclops’ home Dungeon, unless it was wandering further afield than I’d guess. We’ll just have to hope it really can find the Core and doesn’t just wander off.”

Needle reached across her shoulder, carefully unwinding the coils that I had wrapped around her. I allowed the touch, seeing as she had kept me protected while I took the time to recover. It couldn’t have been short; my venom sacs, both of death-venom and slow-venom, had fully restored. It seemed that my mana core had done the same. The familiar sensation of mana sloshed around at its place in my head-scales; it wasn’t like before, filled to the point of bursting and painfully uncomfortable from my consumption of mana-water, but it had managed to passively pull a bit of mana from the air around me over time.

While I had the chance, I used what I had to imbue my slow-venom. While death-venom was useful, the difference in levels between the two traits made for an easy choice. Not to mention, I still distinctly remembered the way that my death-venom had been shrugged off by the female-who-was-not-Needle. If, the Great Core forbid, she went back on her desire to repent for her past actions, slow-venom would make for a more useful weapon.

I hissed at the thought as Needle placed my length on the cold stone below. Something faint touched my tongue.

Something tempting.

It tasted like smoke, like flame and hate all wrapped up in one. It tasted of passion, and of desire, greed, and many other things. Most of all, it tasted like power.

It tasted like a Dungeon Core.

Something within me was eager at the thought, though eagerness didn’t quite capture the feeling. Even greed fell short, not measuring up to the sensation.

It was closer to compulsion, more than anything else.

I didn’t want to find the Core, not really.

Instead, I needed to find it. Needed to reach it. Needed to consume it.

It was an overwhelming desire, forcing me to comply. I accepted it as the Great Core’s will. It had created me, and so any compulsion that I felt must have been by design. Not to mention, the idea of other Dungeon Cores, lesser in every way to the Great Core that had created me, sharing its form and function disgusted me.

I realized what I was being called to do. That, as the Great Core’s champion, it was my duty to eliminate the Dungeon Cores of the World Dungeon - until the Greatest of Cores had proven its overwhelming supremacy at last.

It was a heavy burden.

It was a difficult task.

I turned my head towards the Coreless, finally realizing in full the depths of the Great Core’s plans. It had brought the first two into its nest, putting us on a path to become one in my attempts to escape. It had sharpened my mettle against the dreaded Aridae, forcing me to grow my power and faith through great suffering. It had brought the Coreless back to me, repentant.

Now, I would use the Coreless to achieve the Great Core’s will. Needle’s offering of the mother Aridae had proven her potential as a disciple of the Great Core. The others would need to prove their own worth.

Forging me a path past the Dungeon Core’s traps and bad-things would be a good start.

I flicked my tongue at the aspiring disciples, indicating with a hiss that they should follow behind me. Stupid things that they were, I would just have to hope that they understood.

Regardless, they were powerful. Dangerous. With their help, I might be able to reach the Core. My scale-flesh brushed against the tunnel’s surface, the mouth-watering taste of the Dungeon Core growing stronger as I slithered onwards.

The footfalls of the Coreless rang out behind me, the ore-flesh that capped their feet ringing lightly as they touched the stone.