Seeing that flight made the Collector realize the draconid had been significantly limiting its strength, allowing the Collector to strike it to sate its own desires. It was the same manner in which the Collector itself would allow certain specimen that it believed to be worthy leeway within which to show further their battle prowess and worth before consuming them for the Collective.

In essence, an act of mercy. Yet, the Collector could sense that this mercy, this act of leaving it alive, was bestowed primarily with the emotion of respect behind it.

Respect of the Collector's strength, and respect that it could reach further heights of power.

At the same time, this was not solely the reason for the draconid specimen's actions. The specimen knew of the Collector, or at the very least possessed some ideation of the Collector's strength and potential to grow already.

Based upon conversational threads, the creature knew of this information through the 'White Voice', and yet, that raised another question: how was it that this 'White Voice' knew of the Collector? There was also need to consider the tone and emotions exhibited by the draconid specimen.

The draconid specimen exhibited a deep sense of longing.

When the Collector had managed to redirect the final strike to the draconid's head, it had shown surprise that it was still alive. This indicated to some degree that the specimen had expected the wound to be lethal, and, to some degree, its longing was directed towards a desire for that wound to have been sufficient to expire it.

Why was it that the draconid specimen desired expiry from the Collector's form? How was it that this 'White Voice' had transferred knowledge of the Collector to the draconid?

Yet, the Collector understood instinctively that to obtain answers to these questions, it would have to travel north. Farther north, across the series of mountainous structures demarcating what was called the 'Rift'.

Where the draconid had invited the Collector to secure its 'destiny'. As to what this 'destiny' meant, the Collector would come to know when it traversed to the Rift.

But for now-

The Collector felt an undeniable heat rising up within it. This was in many ways similar to the fiery heat that had blazed within it when it had first consumed worthy specimen on this world. Yet, in some ways, different.

This was not the heat of desire to test the strength of others. No, this was the desire to test its own strength.

The Collector had been deemed weak. It did not take offense to this judgement as a tinkerer might have, for quantitatively and qualitatively, it was simply a fact. Compared to the higher echelons of power in this world, of which this draconid specimen likely occupied a rung, it truly was still weak.

It had to become stronger. To evolve further.

This, the Collector had always known. To serve the Great Purpose, it had to be strong enough to be unchallenged in this world.

And yet, this was not that.

The Collector desired strength now not to be unchallenged, but to be a challenge.

To become strong enough to match those that would desire battle with it, and in turn, engage in worthier and worthier battles.

Yes, the Collector thought. It would grow strong. It would maximize its potential. Then, it would challenge the draconid specimen once more.

"All of you," said the Collector, projecting its voice.

The goblins all came forwards, standing as close as they could to the Collector's flaming form.

Its injuries, though slowly regenerating, were still apparent. A deep, shattered cavity in its chest. Speckles of solidified gold cracked around it from the orb at its center breaking. Multiple skulls cracked apart. Arms blasted off. Half of its tail blown apart. A heart ruptured.

All soon to be irrelevant.

These injuries, the goblin swarm noted, and they exhibited palpable concern, particularly in the case of the carrier unit that the Collector had a stronger mental tie to.

"Do not concern yourselves over these injuries. They are temporary. Instead, begin to scale down this cliff and form a perimeter around the Jotnar hand," stated the Collector. "Utilize the shards of purifying light that I have granted you to leverage yourselves against the wall."

The Collector hovered in the air withs its flaming wings and peered at the sky. The fall of Grain was becoming intense, and it seemed almost as if with the barrier emanating from the Jotnar's hand gone, the Grain was making up for having its fall impeded with a vengeance.

There was so much Grain falling with winds of such ferocity guiding them that it might as well have been the dead of night with how little light permeated through this whirl of dark specs. With this level of Grainfall, there was no conceivable way for an ordinary tinkerer to make its way here, nor for a tinkering force to scout the Collector.

The 'White Voice', too, the Collector surmised was not a tinkering presence, for if it operated farther north, in the area known as the Rift where Grainfall was to be more intense and severe due to being closer to its source, then it was extremely unlikely a tinkering influence was behind it.

And if it was not a tinkering presence, then likely, it was against the tinkerers and the 'gods', for there did not seem to be any middle ground between the environment and monsters versus gods and their Common Body swarm.

"The fall of Grain has rendered this area inhospitable to tinkering presences," stated the Collector as it hovered over to the new edge of the cliff face created by the sheer shockwave emissions of the exchange of blows between the Collector and the draconid.

The Collector faced down and ejected its detachable maw, sucking up whole the rest of the weaker draconid's corpse below it.

Then, the Collector hovered beyond the edge of the cliff, a ball of fire and flickering golden light in the midst of great darkness as it peered down at the goblins.

"The presence of the draconids has cleared this land of additional threats. These specimen, these draconids, are apex predators within this biome. Where they tread, no others do. I will descend to the hand of the Jotnar, and the swarm shall accompany me," said the Collector.

This was likely not a complete coincidence. If the draconid specimen had known of the Collector's strength, in particular its potential to evolve, then it knew that by leaving the Jotnar hand and the corpse of its brethren, the Collector would consume both and become stronger.

It was as if the draconid was inviting the Collector to feast.

To devour to its heart's content, to evolve, adapt, and then challenge it.

A challenger.

This was what the Collector was.

Never before had any other Warrior-Collector been a challenger. Always, they were the challenge, the great threat that darkened the skies and tore down civilizations. They were that which tinkerers had to unite to struggle against.

But this feeling, this idea of becoming that which rose up to meet and surpass, this feeling, the Collector did not dislike.

This feeling, the Collector relished. Always, its strength had been geared towards the Great Purpose. It still was. But now, there was another purpose, secondary, of course, to the Great Purpose, but one that spoke to the Collector's heart just as well.

It would take the draconid's challenge.

It would devour and become strong.

The Collector began its descent down the cliff, towards the awaiting Jotnar hand. Without any barrier guarding the skin, it was simply a mass of preserved flesh charged with incredible amounts of magical energy.

The amount of strength that the Collector would gain from fully assimilating this was truly a stimulating hypothetical to entertain.

A hypothetical soon to become reality.

==

The Collector hovered at the base of the Jotnar hand rising from above the water. Surrounding the edge of the water, on solid ice, the goblin swarm stood watch. Or rather, they knelt.

"The king will ascend," was what Thokk, the carrier unit, had said, knowing full well the Collector's intentions.

And ascension, it seemed, was a ritual worthy of reverence.

Ascension.

An apt word for what the Collector was to undergo now.