Chapter 179: True Victory

Chapter 179: True Victory

I slithered about in a daze, even the spore-roots that still controlled my every movement seeming just ever-so-slightly out of place. Wrong. Distorted.

Just like my victory.

I should have felt better about it than I did. That was an Ascended, a bad-thing that possessed powers on the level of my own - and I had won, forcing it to flee in fear.

That meant something. That was deserving of celebration, proof of my worth as the Great Cores Champion. Everything else should have paled in comparison.

Right?

...about that again, a voice sounded, the noise growing ever-nearer.

You dont have to apologize for anything, Elara. Were just glad to be ourselves again. Thankyou, I heard another voice respond; the disciples were coming to join me, I realized. The ones that were still living, at least. The thought brought the previous battle back to the forefront of my mind, sparking another confusing combination of pride, rage, and regret.

...youre welcome, the first voice replied.

The constant sound of their steps was slowly increasing, working its way through the gap in the moving-walls. It gave me something to focus on. The hard, determined steps of The Unrepentant One, heavy and powerful. The quick - and yet, at the same time, notably restrained - footsteps of not-Needle. The feather-light glide of The Grateful One, heard only through the shifting of the spores through which she strode. And finally, the shambling gait of my gold and blue disciple following along, his spore-roots obeying my previous orders to follow the disciples once they were freed.

Soon enough, though, they had reached me.

Where did he not-Needle mumbled, her eyes darting about the lair of the now-defeated Lesser Core. They alighted on me a few seconds later, her face brightening as a spark of [happiness] flickered across our connection. There you are! she finished.

The Coreless hurried forward, reaching down to scoop me up from where I had frozen mid-slither. A few of her fingers quickly found their way to my head-scales, rubbing in a way that I found more comforting than ever.

I let out a mental hiss, the spore-roots that directed my movements not allowing it to be anything more than that. A second mental hiss, this one directed towards the spore-roots that infested Will, brought him towards me.

He was dirty and bedraggled, lacking the Coreless normal inclination to remove dust and debris that spilled through cracks and over skin. Faint bruises stretched across his skin, lines of gold and blue reaching across the purple splotches like multicolored fingers.

He had done well, in bringing the Great Cores disciples back to the light safely.

Better than I did.

I sent out a new thought-hiss and stretched forward, countless spore-roots flexing in tandem to bring me closer to their kin. My fangs sunk down, drops of vitality seeping through their hollows. Will became Will again, my gold and blue protector no longer.

What about the pupp -

The ground shook again, the newest tremor stronger than the last. The darkwood tree creaked around us, spore-roots flexing and writhing as the giant things nearly immobile mass fought against their touch. I could sense the many roots that thrust themselves through the ground, each following my command to chase the bad-thing that had dared to steal the Great Cores followers away. The stone below us trembled with their - my - fury, earth slowly breaking before the overwhelming mass of roots and wood.

Still, the bad-thing was far faster, not bothering to leave tunnels behind it now that there were no remaining allies to shepherd. It sealed the path shut behind it, forcing the thinnest of my roots to smash through the brittle stone it left in its wake.

Even worse, I couldnt actually see it. Without a [Little Guardians Totem] to watch through, the spore-roots could only mindlessly follow my command to pursue.

It wasnt enough.

When the tremors began to finally fade, I knew that they had failed. The Ascended had gotten away, going unpunished for its blasphemies against the Great Core. And, unlike with Tiamat herself, I had no real way of knowing where it went. Though I doubted it would, if the bad-thing never chose to show itself before me again, it might go unpunished forever.

The darkwood creaked again, bits of its surface visibly pulsing as the spore-roots within writhed in the way that I was sorely wishing I could. It was infuriating.

Unacceptable.

The ground shattered around me as a few of the smaller roots broke the surface, lashing about just as strongly as the rest. My Coreless jumped in response, making noises of [confusion] that I didnt bother to attempt to parse.

My eyes fixed on one of the wriggling roots, even the smallest of them powerful enough to spike through earth and flesh alike. I wanted to use them to shatter Tiamats chosen retribution with spikes of solid wood. I wanted to break the blasphemer. I wanted to eat its Core, use it to serve my creator.

The roots crept a little closer, following the thought-hisses that slipped their way through the cracks in my mind. The scuffling of wood against stone almost seemed to hiss at me, asking what I wanted to do. I hissed back.

I wanted to fix my failure. I wanted to do better. I wanted to bring the Great Cores most zealous Coreless back to life.

I wanted a true victory, one that ended in the blasphemous Ascendeds death.

The roots continued to scrape and scuffle as they crept ever-closer, each sound echoing in my hearing, as if trying to remind me that there was a way to achieve all of that.

And there was, I knew. I could justgo back. Do it over again. Do it right, as long as the Great Core chose to allow it. As long as I died, so that I could be reborn again.

Intentionally, this time, but for the greatest of causes - to punish a blasphemer and save the first of the Coreless disciples.

Would that be okay?

The deadly roots wavered in the air, caught between one thought-hiss and the next.