Chapter 160: Half Split

Chapter 160: Half Split

Throughout the Skylands, light bloomed.

Fitting, really—three deaths and plenty of combat, enough for my creatures to sup their fill of mana and experience. All over, evolution hummed and crackled with ready anticipation, potential wrapped up inside bared teeth. The corpses, already being stripped away and repurposed; the mana form that consumed.

My own core was bursting at the seam with excess, too much already flowing into the ambient air. Hells, that sucked.

But no matter. I dove into my creatures.

The first was high above on the islands, head raised and black eyes bright—the mist-fox who entrapped Alda and illusioned them right into proper paranoia. She was an elder thing by my standards, part of the original pack I'd created when I'd gotten their schema, much larger than her nestmates with burnished silver fur and a tail that was never in less than five separate forms. Evolution dulled her mind, tugged her towards sleep, but I could feel the pride of watching invaders tumble off a cliff by her doing. A lovely beast.

Congratulations! Your creature, a Mist-fox, is undergoing evolution!

Please select your desired path.

Cloudcaller Fox (Rare): In a land of storms, it fades to become one alongside. With every step or shift of its tail, new clouds come roiling to the surface, all laced with illusions and impossible to discern where the right path is to go.

Smoke-fox (Rare): To choose mist is to choose passivity. This creature takes for a choking approach, weaving its illusions through the grit and grime of smoke; prey is entranced deeper within, following its lies, until they succumb to suffocation.

Phantom Fox (Rare): Illusions of self become illusions of existence. Fading from the world, it hides its physical body from all around it, becoming a spectre in the living world—but the bite of its hidden claws are always felt.

So many evolutions, all of them new. My mana purred around me as I studied the various options.

Cloudcaller fox was fascinating, entirely so, but I couldn't help but think of my cloudskipper wisps and stormcaller sprite—my Skylands were already a land choked in clouds, and I didn't need more. In a similar vein, the smoke-fox tried to fit a hole I'd already filled. The Scorchplains were drowning in smoke, from the magma pools and the coal pits, and while they would blend in perfectly, it was also dark enough that her illusions would be ineffective against invaders that were already not using their eyes.

Unfortunate. But all it meant was that the phantom fox seemed all the more enticing an opinion.

No longer just a siren's call, now she would attack invaders; a ghost, lunging from the mist that her unevolved brethren would still twist to their intentions. Similar to my spectral serpent, actually, though without actually disappearing from the world. But very powerful.

I selected phantom fox and let the evolution carry her away, eyes slipping closed and light overtaking her form. She was already tucked away in a corner of the Skylands, blanketed by storm, and I spent a few points of mana dissolving the stone underneath to hide her in a burrow of some sort. Protection enough for her evolution.

More messages, popping like explosions over my consciousness; it tugged me down next, beneath the islands, to where a tribe gathered and recovered and spoke. The goblins. Several of whom were glowing with a pale luminosity.

It seemed Akkyst's plan to have them kill Azkhal had been successful; as much as a dozen of them were sparking with solidified mana, bright and effervescent.

Even if I would have been happier with Akkyst evolving.

But the eldest of the tribe were already being led back to their carved homes, with an odd preparation I didn't know what to think of—like they knew what evolution was, even if all of them hadn't evolved yet. The younger goblins guided them, seemingly aware that their minds were fuzzy in preparation, and took up guard outside the openings with their mana prepared.

Except for one, who was being led by Akkyst.

Bylk, oldest of all my creatures, let the enormous bear take him up the stone bridge and into the cavern they shared, with the stone rune in the back. He was smiling, snaggleteeth protruding, as Akkyst nosed him into the moss bed in the back. Fitting, really. He'd killed Hulimat, though his shadow had done the bloody work itself, and that was a full blooded Silver whose mana was now his. And a dozen others—I dove into the messages with glee.

Congratulations! Your creature, a Highland Goblin, is experiencing evolution!

Please select your desired path.

Boneshard Goblin (Rare): A crafter and collector entwined, this creature shapes itself in the mountains it calls home. From ore to prey to stone, it creates mystical things its fellow goblins can only dream of, ever practicing its gift.

Goblin Mage (Rare): A harnesser of mana, it chooses one element to attune itself to and perfect. Amidst a world of sloppy deliverance, it hones its abilities to rival that of the outside world, swearing to be more than what it is seen as.

Hobgoblin (Rare): Brute and brawn, this creature has forsaken its lowly roots and become a beast to be feared. Its reach is long and indomitable, particularly with its regenerative capabilities, and there is no limit to the size it will eventually grow.

So that's what they were—highland goblins. I vaguely remembered that as an Otherworld schema option when I had last evolved, though I hadn't selected it. Of course I hadn't. Against kobolds, what were goblins?

Well. Mine, I supposed, though I didn't have their schema. But a part of my dungeon now.

Crafter, mage, warrior. Similar options to the kobold evolutions—rather than a dramatic change, more a honing of what they already were. Bylk was already a mage; now he would be a proper one, with mana channels to match. A touch boring. I'd allow it.

Curious, though. From what I'd gleamed from Akkyst's memories, there were three goblin tribes within the Alómbra Mountains—the Magelords, the War Horde, and the miners, far below. These three evolutions matched them perfectly.

Why were there so many goblins here? My sea-drake memories were hazy for terrestrial things, but I remembered goblins as pests, as vermin, but not common. And certainly not strong enough to survive in inhospitable mountains, let alone command three separate divisions deep within.

Another mystery. It seemed I was handling many of them.

The evolution was in the Underlake, from a cloudskipper wisp currently caught between the armoured jawfish's fangs.

It had been a remarkable day of panic, and it seemed I still had more to give—my mana squawked, demeaning as it was, and swooped in to surround him. I battered into his mind, great shrieking demands to let go and stop biting and gods above, hadn't there been enough death today–

But he wasn't killing it.

He was filling it.

Therrón the water mage floated somewhere below, a bloated corpse missing a hand and studded with bites from silvertooths. The armoured jawfish had killed him, had separated his head from shoulders in a clean bite to end his attack, and as with all similar situations had taken his mana for his own; but he hadn't absorbed it. Had fought against it, actually, ripping it from his own channels—and pushing it into the cloudskipper wisp.

It thrashed inside his fangs, battering against the impenetrable weight of his armour, but Therrón's mana surged into it like a thunderstorm. My wisps were entirely passive creatures, flitting about to kick up waves; even inefficient as this method was, I watched the wisp pulse and crackle with mana, more than enough to evolve, young though it was.

What in all hells was he doing?

His thoughts honed as he felt me look in, sharpening to a claw's point. Evolve-evolve-evolve circled in endless repetition through his mind, a harmonious victory cry—he sensed the potential between his fangs, how much willpower it took to not only reject the mana but also catch a cloudskipper wisp, which was as antithetical to his hunting style as possible.

I stared at him, every point of awareness swiveling in. What was this? Why did he want the wisp to evolve, rather than take the mana extremely attuned to his own growth?

The message lurched again in my core. Against my better judgment, I looked.

Congratulations! Your creature, a Cloudskipper Wisp, is undergoing evolution!

Please select your desired path.

Cloudrider Sprite (Rare): Summoner once, wielder now. No longer are clouds only brought in its wake; it creates and directs them at its will. Entire field drowned in grey; entire mountains draped in silver, led by their powerful host.

Tidewalker Sprite (Rare): From wind to water, it dives beneath the surface and welcomes an aquatic attunement. Currents are the lifeblood of this creature's existence, weaving impossible pathways to carry it and others through the deep.

Waveleaper Sprite (Rare): In a land with a whirlpool, it adapts to match. Dipping a half-coalesced form into the water, it crashes back and forth to summon mighty waves, beating against those both above and below.

No stormcaller sprite, which was unfortunately fitting considering this wisp had experienced no real hardship, but the new options leapt out at me. Waveleaper fit in with the Underlake, no longer needing to run on the surface to whip up the push-pull thrum Mayalle harnessed, and tidewalker would mesh with Seros' abilities well enough I wanted to evolve it into that just to see what they would do together.

But that didn't explain the armoured jawfish's actions.

I untangled myself from the evolution and peered deeper into his mind, into the unorganized thoughts and rumbling hunger that never died—and saw, stark as starlight, his drive. The awareness of the world around him, the Underlake, the rotating cast of companions who either died or traveled below, and how the option had never been extended to him.

His armour was so heavy it had killed his ancestors. Up here, with Mayalle's whirlpool, I had known he would be able to support himself. I had thought that the best option.

It appeared he did not agree.

He had specifically gone for Therrón, aimed for him, just for the water-attuned mana he had; and then forced it into a cloudskipper wisp for the chance of a beneficial evolution. Something to support his heavy armour so he could travel below.

I swiveled a point of awareness down, to where my roughwater sharks were just settling into evolution—the Hungering Reefs were an ancient, starving place, brimming with a paradise's comforts and a hell's unforgiveness. With a tidewalker sprite by his side, my armoured jawfish would thrive. Where he had apparently wanted to thrive all this time, but I hadn't given him the chance.

Another creature I had abandoned, much like the insects from the Fungal Gardens. How many more would I discover too late, until one day they abandoned me?

I'm sorry, I murmured quietly, just to his mind—and selected tidewalker sprite.

The glow exploded between his fangs as the wisp dissolved into mist, trickling out to drift back above the water; he let it, falling back down to the depths, tail thrashing as his brief moment of inactivity nearly dragged him down. But satisfaction gleamed through his mind, burning bright; he knew that as soon as it evolved, he would be taken below. Like wanted.

I left him to think on that, dream of it, as I went back to the Hungering Reefs. But there were no more evolutions there, considering Shoth had sprinted through and the dryad had taken care of all else, leaving the floor mostly normal.

Beyond a certain someone, crouched, feet dug into the sand and hands wrapped around his head.

Fucking Aedan, still alive, too scared to move or run or fight. My mana boiled around him, lashing out at the sand and surf; a million reasons that if he were to leave, I would destroy him, Rhoborh be damned.

But I couldn't do anything to him. Not yet. I sent a message to Nicau and Chieftess, still preparing to head out on their jungle trip now-delayed, to keep an eye on him as I moved on.

One floor left. The one with the most happening; the floor where I had almost been enslaved.

It was time to see what the Scorchplains had to offer.