Level 1 Little Puppeteer Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 6/20.

Level 23 Little Puppeteer Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Progress Towards Next Upgrade: 7/20.

The thought-light flickered as I finished devouring the two Little Puppeteers that we had defeated.

I hadn’t been wrong; one of the Little Puppeteers had been at a much higher level than the others that we had encountered so far, with two potential upgrades to its abilities. I was sure that being created by something other than the Great Core, along with not being able to absorb new traits in order to gain additional options, would have cut down its options tremendously.

Still, it was something to be concerned about, especially when I had no way of knowing what the potential advancements were available. So far, I had only seen one that was certain - the way that the spores had been forming shapes and images so similar to the Coreless couldn’t have been anything but intentional. If I had to guess, it was probably some sort of method to either help lure more Coreless in or distract them long enough that the spores could fully take root.

Not that the second would have been all that necessary; though it pained me to admit it, the spore-mist’s corrupting influence was extremely strong. Despite being the design of a Lesser Core, even I might have been overcome if I hadn’t possessed [Spore Puppeteer] myself.

The Coreless themselves hadn’t stood much of a chance.

A new thought-hiss forced the spore-roots in my flesh to twitch, pulling my gaze towards the nearest of the corrupted.

“Damn, girl. Did these people do something to you? Some of these injuries are ridiculous.” I heard the male Coreless say something, making noises at The Grateful One. He was kneeling down, pinning one of the more mobile corrupted Coreless down. It struggled furiously, teeth gnashing and arms twitching, but The Grateful One had broken enough bones that its efforts didn’t amount to much.

The almost rubbery flex of its limbs was fascinating, though.

There was a flash of [guilt] from The Grateful One’s link, one that persisted longer than before. Whatever she had been doing to clamp down on her emotions before, she wasn’t doing it anymore. She looked away from him and stared at her own hand instead, as if suddenly fascinated by the sight of her own flesh. Flecks of blood ran across her otherwise-pristine knuckles, bits of crimson dappled and painted across the mostly pale surface. Here and there, lines of green and black still remained, the disgusting spore-roots slithering underneath her skin, but they were few and far between. Between the drops of [Life - Vitality] and the constant healing provided by the many-nest’s [Little Guardian’s Focus], most of the corruption was already gone.

Not that it really mattered; The Grateful One was admirably resistant to its effects. Still, she looked better without it. I had grown to hate those colors.

Eventually, The Grateful One looked back up again, eyes peeling themselves away from their study of flesh.

“Yes,” she said, making noises back. She pointed at the still-struggling corrupted, flailing limply and scratching at the male Coreless’ ore-flesh. “That was the point. Do you think that he wants to be doing that? It has to hurt, but he’s still doing it anyway.”

There was a rustling, scraping noise from nearby, the sound of dead spore-flesh sliding against nails. The Grateful One paused, turning to move towards the source. Her boot came down, pinning the corrupted before it could get any further.

The corrupted, a male with shattered jaw and knee, continued to scratch at the ground in a desperate bid to pull himself back into the mist. The Grateful One, uninjured and far more powerful, held firm.

“Do you think that he wants to be like this? Did you want to be like this? I didn’t - but my body still would have crawled its way back into the mist if someone had let it. Better to suffer a little more pain to make sure that can’t happen. Anything is better than that. When we cut their strings, they’ll tell you the same.”

She kneeled down, bringing my vision closer to the corrupted Coreless. His tongue dangled oddly from a broken jaw, turning an already poor snarl into some malformed approximation of the same. Her hand slowly ran across the corrupted’s face.

“Isn’t that right, Coran?” she murmured. Her other hand reached to her neck, grabbing at the threads of her [Little Guardian’s Totem] and pulling it free before placing it against him. His shattered jaw slowly started to twitch as it began to heal, little bits of green and black fading alongside the wound.

[PAIN]

[HELPLESSNESS]

[hope]

Before I knew it, my fangs were sinking into his flesh, dripping with vitality and beating the corruption back even further. With a source of mana-water nearby, I didn’t bother to be careful with my stores. It wasn’t entirely pleasant to do, but I would be able to use it to refill my mana reservoirs. Besides, it was important for the corrupted Coreless to feel as if I had a personal part in freeing them from their shackles. Even though the power that healed them always came from the abilities that the Great Core had given me either way, I had noticed a difference in attitude between the corrupted that I personally saved and those that had only been healed by the [Little Guardian’s Focus]. Something about being seen to take part in freeing them from the Lesser Core’s control instilled a greater reverence in the Coreless.

The increased levels didn’t hurt, either.

Lesser Core Skill: [Life - Vitality III] Increased.

[Life - Vitality IV] Acquired.

We moved from one corrupted Coreless to the next, freeing them one by one. With how freely I was using my life essence, I was forced to visit the pool of mana-water more than once. It sparked a brief bout of discussion between the two nearby disciples, but I mostly ignored their jabbering.

At the same time, my free use of life essence along with the amount needed in order to quickly purge the Lesser Core’s influence from the corrupted Coreless’ bodies was enough for the thought-light to flicker again and again. The Great Core must have been pleased by my actions.

Lesser Core Skill: [Life - Vitality IV] Increased.

[Life - Vitality V] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Life Essence Manipulation IV] Increased.

[Life Essence Manipulation V] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Life - Vitality V] Increased.

[Life - Vitality VI] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Life - Vitality VI] Increased.

[Life - Vitality VII] Acquired.

While I basked in the light of my accomplishments, the disciples spoke to the once-corrupted Coreless that I had saved. No doubt they were taking the opportunity to spread the light of the Great Core, as all should when given the chance. Surely, if they had been wearing a [Little Guardian’s Totem] at the time, I would have been assaulted by enormous waves of [reverence] and [devotion].

They weren’t, so I just had to imagine it.

It was nice.

Coran couldn’t pull his eyes away. It was the same as how one hand couldn’t seem to leave his jaw; there was just something wrong, something that didn’t make sense. He remembered the way that it had shattered to a pulp with a single heavy punch, one that defied his understanding of the human body’s strength. One that just didn’t make sense.

Is this really Elara?

True, he hadn’t known her all that well. Still, he knew her well enough to be confused. She didn’t even seem like the same person anymore; she walked differently, talked differently, and she sure as skies punched differently. He shivered, rubbing at his jaw again.

“Where are the others?” the Seeker - Rowan, he said his name was - asked her after a moment of silence. The man’s spear, cradled against his side, matched with his brightly-shining armor. And wasn’t that a thing. A Seeker. That she fought. That she somehow beat.

Well, her and the weird healing snake.

As if that were the one thing that would allow his stare to waver, Coran found his gaze inexorably pulled toward the anomaly in their midst. An Ascended monster that they were just...carrying around. Somehow.

It hissed, flicking out a tongue, and Elara scratched at its scales. For some reason, Coran couldn’t help but feel that the strange monster felt proud of itself. He wasn’t sure why.

“Haven’t found them yet. You’re the first. They’re out there somewhere, though.”

The Seeker cursed under his breath, one hand coming up to brush through his hair. A few of the spores, now gray and lifeless, shook loose. Coran tried not to pay attention to that. Even dead, the thought of the spores made him uncomfortable.

“Lucky me, I guess,” Rowan said, letting out a sigh. He looked around for a second before pulling a necklace out from underneath his armor. Just like the one that Elara had, it was shaped to look like the Ascended that they carried around. The magical necklace twitched, pulling itself to the left for a brief second before it fell. “Well, at least we know which way is home, I suppose,” he muttered.

Coran finally tore his eyes away from the Seeker, Elara, and their weird snake, finally looking at one thing he had been trying to avoid thinking about.

Green spores floated around them in a near-perfect circle, cutting off every possible escape. Sometimes he thought that he could see dark figures forming in the mist, only to wisp away when he blinked. He pushed down the urge to vomit.

Even if they somehow know where to go…how are we supposed to get out?

The spores didn’t give a response, and Coran was glad for that. He wasn’t sure he would have liked the answer.

Coran’s hand pressed against his jaw again, and he forced himself to look away.