Chapter 293: Swallower of Souls

Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ D-

I twisted another blasphemer into service, interrupting the thought-light before it could announce the Coreless’ final death - and before he could even scream out to alert the others.

Without the captive Coreless to worry about, I was able to press the blasphemers harder. Finally, the plant-flesh had risen up against the intruders in truth, vines and thorns and spores and more assaulting them as they traveled. While most of it was blocked by the mana-powered wind that twisted in the air around them, and much of what remained by the ore-flesh that laid in wait behind that, the assault still succeeded in something.

It slowed them down - and, more importantly, it kept me hidden while it did it.

Distracted as they were by the plant-flesh around them, I found that I could slither around their feet with relative impunity, only slowed by the wind that whistled around them. Even then, I occasionally found my chances, if I angled myself just right against something the blasphemers were stepping towards, leaving the barrier of wind with nothing to do but press me uncomfortably against it.

Then, when the blasphemer stepped forward again and the wind passed over me fully, I was already inside. From there, I could simply invisibly slither my way up unfeeling ore-flesh and wait for an opportunity to strike.

On one particularly heated assault, a thought-hiss sent two of my newly created once-blasphemers stumbling into one of their allies. The three tumbled over, falling into a mass of barbed thorns.

In the midst of the fall, careful not to get myself crushed, I transferred over to the blasphemer-that-still-was and sunk my fangs into the back of his neck. This time, I was sure that the others noticed the scream. Yet, with the thorns that continued to try sinking into the man, scratching at his ore-flesh in an unthinking fury, I was also sure that they didn’t realize what the real cause was.

Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ D-

Like the others, I forced his final death to a stop, leaving him in a not-life that I could more easily take advantage of. With my once-blasphemers up to three, weakened by the low amount of death mana that I infused them with though they might have been, I was beginning to feel far more confident.

That was, of course, when someone finally noticed something.

The leader of the blasphemers held up his hand, his eyes narrowed and locked directly onto me. No, not onto me. Onto the once-blasphemer that [Illusion Spark] hid me against. His eyes moved towards the other two once-blasphemers next, the narrowed orbs seeming as if they saw something deeper, like fangs sinking into flesh only to find something rotten beneath.

He made a few hand motions at my once-blasphemers that I didn’t recognize, twisting the fingers into odd shapes and configurations, and then paused. He narrowed his eyes, and then did it again.

Cautiously looking away, he did the same to one of the blasphemers near him. That blasphemer motioned back, and I realized that I had messed up somewhere. When he turned back to my once-blasphemers and caused his fingers to wiggle at them, I did my best to respond by copying the exact motions that the previous blasphemer had sent in return.

He nodded, moved on to the next once-blasphemer, and we repeated the same thing. Then, the third.

The leader of the blasphemers made one more motion. The other blasphemers hesitated, unsure about something. He did it again, motioning towards my once-blasphemers aggressively.

I felt an uncomfortable tingling in my coils, traveling all the way down to my tail - and immediately acted on it.

The nearby blasphemers all took a step towards where my once-blasphemers stood, and me with them. Yet, even as they did so, the surrounding plant-flesh came to life again. It attacked with an intensity that it had lacked before, when I had been carefully attempting to come close enough to the blasphemers to turn them towards the Great Core’s light.

I dropped down in the confusion, sending out a thought-hiss to command the once-blasphemer to briefly release the wind that twisted around him. With it gone, I slithered my way to safety, abandoning the battle-torn area.

It was a good thing that I did.

Immediately afterwards, the air itself came to life. Fangs formed of wind filled the air, criss-crossing the area in such a way that each found itself sinking into either plant-flesh or once-blasphemer.

Plant-flesh split, sundered by the near-invisible attack, immediately cutting down on the number of vines and thorns and spores and barbs that assaulted the blasphemers.

My once-blasphemers, however, were more sturdy than that.

Even so…it wasn’t long before they, too, were moments away from death - their not-life threatening to end as hopelessly as it started. I cut the connection between us before the blasphemers could finish them off entirely, and the once-blasphemers suddenly collapsed.

Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Defeated.

Calculating .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Strength.

Requisite Experience Awarded. Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Defeated.

Calculating .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Strength.

Requisite Experience Awarded. Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Defeated.

Calculating .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Strength.

Requisite Experience Awarded. Reduced Due To Assistance Received.

My mouth opened in an unconscious display of hunger, despite my frustration at their loss - because, in the Great Core’s mercy, even a loss could carry victory. Three intangible somethings, shrieking and screaming against the walls of my mind-nest, surged in my direction. Invisible fangs snapped shut.

Just as with their predecessors, they struggled. Thrashed. Fell into pieces - and I swallowed what remained.

Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Soul Fragment Absorbed.

Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Soul Fragment Absorbed.

Mana-Infused .̸̠̑/̷̧͖̮͚͐̕.̵͙̣͍̩̜͉̏/̸̩̖̐ͅ.̸̮̙̰̖̜̾̽͌̌̽͛̾͐/̸̛̗̘̼̳͕͔͕͚̈́̈̑̅̑̚.̴͉͉͌̃̊͆̈́̄͘.̶̱̔̌̓͊̚/̸̜̞͉͙͔͖̬̇͋͜.̵̘͔͇̘͇̄̓̃͜/̵̧̺̼͖̠̮̩͚̒͒̑̂̈̿̃͠ Soul Fragment Absorbed.

In a set of three, I changed once more. My scales hardened. My flesh strengthened. My fangs sharpened.

It was enough to make me shudder, convulsing in glee, plant-flesh rustling around me.

Everywhere, all at once, the Great Core’s plant-flesh convulsed alongside me. It was as if an entire world was captured in ecstasy at once, loud enough that I couldn’t even hear the howling of the blasphemers’ wind anymore.

There was only me, the plant-flesh, and our shared ecstasy.

In that moment of transcendence, I crushed the struggling fragments down further, mixing them into a slurry that I doubted could ever resist me again. Even the two that I had already gained, the first from a former blasphemer and the second a dying bad-thing, were broken down further - as if the weight of the three that followed them pressed down and kept them from stretching for freedom.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Absorbed Soul Fragments Temporarily Subjugated.

[Death Boost] Extended.

It was still a temporary state, but I could feel that it was becoming less and less so - at least for the soul fragments that found themselves at the bottom, crushed by those that had arrived afterwards. It seemed as if, as long as I kept the fangs of my mind-self carefully lodged in the soul-flesh of my newest prey, I could continue to grow stronger.

The thought alone was enough to send me into a fresh set of convulsions, plant-flesh rustling around me in tandem glee. My scale-flesh found its way around a fallen branch, and with the weight of [Soul Fragment V] now behind it, snapped the thick section of plant-flesh in two.

Then, slowly but surely, I started to settle down - pulling myself free from the euphoric ecstasy that a tripling of [Death Boost]’s soul subjugation carried with it.

I let out a quiet hiss, more confident than ever despite the loss of my most recent once-blasphemers, and began to hunt.

When I turned the corner, [Illusion Spark] once again hiding my scale-flesh from view, the blasphemers were gone. The only remnants of them were the corpses of the three once-blasphemers, their ore-flesh riddled with scrapes and gashes, and a distinct trail of blood that led further into the plant-flesh around me.

I followed it, hissing quietly underneath my breath.

Then, finally, I remembered to quell the convulsing plant-flesh around me - the [Spore Puppeteer]ed vegetation accidentally set off in my euphoric delirium.

It all came to a halt at once, and the entire tunnel that it occupied, from one end to the other, fell deathly silent. I sent a thought-hiss to the plant-flesh up ahead, commanding it to slow the blasphemers by any means necessary.

I continued my hunt.

Ilian moved, cursing underneath his breath all the while.

The sound was swallowed by the wild convulsions of the plantlife around him, completely lost in whatever demonic bullshit was taking place. It had started at the moment of Bran, Jer, andHenrik’s deaths - or of whatever had replaced them.

Because Ilian knew, without a doubt, that those three had not been them.

They had moved wrong. They had looked wrong. They had been wrong.

He had first noticed it when the creature pretending to be Bran had started walking oddly, losing the loping gait that the man normally moved with, but it had been easy to dismiss. Then, there was Jer. The thing that had pretended to be him was a poor actor. Jer was a paranoid son of a bitch. He had a habit of glancing around nervously, even in normal situations.

It was weird when he’d suddenly done nothing but stare straight ahead, even as a man-eating forest did its best to swallow him whole.

The final straw had been Henrik’s death - or possession, or imitation, or whatever the fuck was going on.

The way it had happened had just been too obvious. At least to Ilian, who had already been perturbed by the changes in the previous two. When Henrik had stood back up and seemed just as ever-so-slightly off as the first two, Ilian had immediately decided to act on his suspicions.

And then when the trio had been completely unable to understand simple handspeech, flopping their fingers back almost randomly in response to Ilian’s silent interrogation, he’d known.

Bran, Jer, and Henrik were gone.

He didn’t know how it happened, only that it did - and that it brought to mind the very thing that had started it all, forcing Ilian and his fellows to raid an outlying tower for emergency manpower. A lone survivor who claimed that a monster had invaded the mines, murdering and puppeteering the corpses of the guards who had overseen it.

Ilian wasn’t sure how Bran, Jer, or Henrik could have died so fast, and he hadn’t seen any monster that could have done it, but the details were too similar to completely dismiss.

It was either the same - or simply close enough not to matter. The monster in the mines had returned. And apparently, this time it had brought some kind of death forest with it.

Now, it seemed as if the forest was laughing. It cackled and convulsed, rustling with every step that Ilian and his remaining allies took, amused by how the trio had been twisted into something horrible under their very noses.

Ilian could hear it over the sound of his barrier of wind, outcompeting even the howling that his mana-enhanced armor could create.

Then, suddenly, it all stopped.

Ilian came to a stop with it, skidding to a halt. Beside him, his remaining allies did the same, just as worried by the sudden change as he was. Ilian raised a hand, signalling to the others to be on their guard.

As if they aren’t already.

Siran signalled back, motioning towards his injured leg, where one of the trio had managed to cut through the combination of barrier and armor. Ilian shook his head; there wasn’t any time to deal with the injury.

Not until they made it out of whatever skies-damned hell they’d found themselves in.

Then, when it seemed like nothing terrible was currently happening, he motioned the group forward again.

There was no turning back now; now that the hostages were dead or worse, the immortal monsters masquerading as humans would tear them apart if they turned around - and that was assuming they could even make it back out of the strange forest alive. No, the best option was to press ahead and find where it all ended.

It can’t be too much farther now, he thought to himself, desperately hoping there was some kind of safety ahead.

Yet, it seemed as if safety was the last thing they would get - because before Ilian took another step, the aggressive vegetation decided to begin its assault again.

It slowed them down further than even Siran’s injury had, since they couldn’t move too quickly through the man-eating forest for fear of their own momentum helping to push its attacks through the barriers of wind that kept them safe.

Ilian felt a sinking in his gut, thinking again about whatever invisible monster had possessed the trio - and where it might be now.

I moved quickly, faster than the blasphemers walking ahead of me ever could, slowed down by the plant-flesh that constantly assaulted them as they were. I, meanwhile, was anything but slowed by it. If anything, I was faster than ever before; rather than slither carefully across the ground, I reached across outstretched vines, wrapping them in my coils even as they wrapped around me.

It wasn’t long before the world around me was a confusing blur of motion, and only [Death Boost]’s recent hardening of my scale-flesh kept me from coming to a fearful stop.

With my fear in check, the vines became simple tunnels to traverse; I leapt from one living-tunnel to the next, feeling it catch me gently beneath my coils and fling me onward. Thorns bent beneath my weight, small as it was, and sprang back without breaking flesh - the plant-flesh itself fighting against its natural inclination to pierce and mangle.

It was exhilarating; it was even more so when I caught the scent-taste of the blasphemers once again. Blood. Fear. Ore-flesh. The flavors mixed together, turning into something heavy on my tongue.

At the rear of the group, one of the blasphemers limped. One leg trailed blood where my once-blasphemers had gotten lucky enough to land a blow, windborne fangs overpowering his twisting barrier of wind and sliding between sections of ore-flesh.

I focused on him, understanding that he was the weakest link - and that, if he became mine, a little problem like a wounded leg hardly even mattered.

It only took a few minutes of concerted effort to bring him down. redirecting nearly all of the plant-flesh that surrounded the blasphemers onto the wounded one. Eventually, pieces of plant-flesh started to pierce through the wind that howled around him, scratching at the ore-flesh underneath it.

After that, it was only a matter of time before one of the pieces found his already-wounded flesh. The ore-flesh didn’t cover everything, even if it covered most things - and it most certainly didn’t cover the wound in his leg.

As soon as I felt the first of the spores take root, I activated [Verdure Parasite], forcing it to multiply rapidly.

From there, it was only moments before the wounded blasphemer was mine. I sent him after his former brethren, the wounded leg that had once slowed him now completely ignored even as it bled more freely than ever. He wasn’t as strong as them, but he didn’t need to be. I only needed him to cause enough of a distraction to give either myself or the nearby plant-flesh a single free strike.

If he died, he died. I would just have another to take his place.

Like that, one after another, the blasphemers inexorably fell apart. It became easier as time went on, the blasphemers exhausted from the many battles they’d been forced into - first with the faithful and now myself.

Until only a single blasphemer remained, stumbling and bleeding out.

It can’t be much farther.

Ilian stumbled forward, his gorge rising as his destination came into view. It was surrounded by the same murderous plantlife that covered everything else; if anything, the door to the room that held the children hostage was more covered in vegetation than anything else. There was no sign of either the overseer or the Virtun woman.

Ilian pressed forward anyway, holding a hand to his neck, where blood dripped down in uncomfortably large rivulets. It had been a small pinprick, a single thorn that had barely managed to make it past the barrier of wind that Ilian’s mana-enhanced armor gave off. It started to tingle uncomfortably as soon as it touched him, something strange trying to wriggle its way through his neck.

Ilian had cut it out with a vengeance; he’d carved out a chunk of skin with his emergency dagger, tossing aside the corrupted flesh with hardly even a glance. It was more than enough of one to see the gold-blue tendrils that infested it.

To know what it had tried to do; the colors of the strange plantlife - as well as Ilian’s former allies, turned traitor and now left dead somewhere behind him - had left more than enough information to understand the fate that he’d narrowly escaped. The fate that he was still working to escape.

What had he done to deserve this?

It can’t be much farther.

It had to be safe behind the door, Ilian tried to convince himself in his delirium. It was just obvious that the vegetation must have been so thick around it because it couldn’t get through. That there was something behind it that held the murderous plantlife back. If he could only work his way past, he would live.

He would—

Ilian stumbled and fell backwards, his legs finally losing strength. There, staring back from where he’d come from his position on the ground, he spotted a tiny snake somehow pop into existence, slithering haughtily in his direction.

No—

It wasn’t just a snake; no normal snake monster would have a glowing orb resting on its brow.

Ascended.

The monster slithered closer, and Ilian realized that he’d never had a chance of escaping at all. It watched him bleed out, separated only by a thin barrier of wind. Ilian could have sworn that it looked smug.

Proud.