Joroboros
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[KoJ] Chapter 82: Bleeding Through
🕑 Added 2025-04-25 14:18:21 +0000 UTCMy time in Shorpel passed quickly. Before I knew it, we were waving — another curious physical motion that I mimicked with my tail — goodbye to Pallen and heading on to the next place Ceph wanted to show me.
Pallen herself was an interesting person. She was incredible at reading my intent — better than any other sapient I’ve met — and often answered my questions before I asked them. Ceph, by comparison, seemed to constantly hold herself hesitantly; as if she worried that I would bite at any moment.
I was starting to get concerned. In my many years, I’d seen some creatures worry themselves to death. Her species didn’t have hearts, but did that mean heart attacks were impossible?
Ceph had appeared on the verge of one when I’d brought back that oversized bull. It’s true that the beast was probably a little big, what with it’s meat taking up all the free space around the market, but Pallen asked for a bovine. Even if it meant going through the effort of cutting it up so it would fit through my distortions, I wanted to show my gratitude.
Though when Pallen saw the ribboned remains, her expression grew stiff, and her purplish body paled. I had to nod in pity. It was such a shame that so much of the creature would go to waste. Even a thousand dohrni couldn’t eat all this before it rotted. And it was already dead, so I refused to.
I did keep a slight hope that they could cook half of it for me, but apparently the very slight water binding of the beast meant even their most intense flames took days to cook the meat. Not to mention they had no oven large enough. So none for me.
Ceph simply dropped her head into a pair of tentacles when I began dragging the shredded bull through the rend, but she’d already shown she was against it from the start, so I didn’t pay her more than a glance.
Afterwards, we left the hive — and its residents to hack away at the massive strips of meat — to visit what Pallen called a defensive fortress. It wasn’t completely dissimilar from the rest of the coastal wall. Built high over the raging ocean waves that lapped at the submerged cliff-face, the only obvious outward difference was the lack of balconies. Instead, dozens of narrow holes took their place. Only big enough that the sapients would have to crawl through, they each connected to one of those enlarged pellet-flingers I originally faced when rising from Kalma’s Pit.
Artillery, they were called. Designed to allow even the weakest of their warrior caste to inflict significant damage.
The place was crawling with the sapients. More so than even Shorpel’s market or the city of Meja. Despite Pallen being the hive of Shorpel’s queen — or maybe because of it — our envoy guard was significant as I was shown to what she considered the nation’s pride:
A cannon near half as long as my full length.
“With this, we can knock a ship out of the water from a hundred kilometres,” she had said. “It takes a dozen Luis mercs to operate, and a vast network of volans chaining communications over the seas, but while this and the three others of its kind stand, we will not be invaded by water.”
I had seen it when I first rose to the surface, but it seems so odd that despite gaining sapience, they are still so susceptible to territorial disputes. I guess it’s impossible to avoid. With such immense number of sapients to care for, it’s no wonder they would fight over the limited prey.
“Never, huh?” Ceph seemed to take issue with Pallen’s claim. “Even with a direct hit against an elite, it would be nothing but an annoyance.”
Pallen took the criticism in stride. “You’re a Beith, aren’t you? You should know better than most that the war between elites and that of the rest should be considered independent. I’m no mercenary. Nor am I a war tactician, but the way I see it, as long as we defend our fortification and sink enemy ships before they can deliver their infantry, than we have done our job.”
Ceph looked like she had wanted to argue, but held herself back with a glance my way.
We didn’t spend too much longer at the fortifications. Pallen was quick to realise I didn’t find their weapons as interesting as they did, and took us to our next destination. I was glad for it. As curious as I am about the way they build these things — especially the incredibly smooth metal — the results aren’t all that impressive. So what if they can throw hard lumps fast, I’d much prefer to learn more of their culture.
After hundreds of years where I did little more than hunt and fight, I don’t care all that much about how these sapients do the same. I care how they’ve learnt to coexist with each other. I care how they communicate and create.
The next stop was exactly that.
We joined a crew of sapients upon a large vessel that they lowered down the cliffs with a winch. A creation to allow these creatures that can’t swim — well — to navigate the seas. On this fishing ship, I was shown how they gather the food to feed their entire hive.
The primary way seemed to be these large nets they called trawlers. They caught hundreds of prey at once. It did take all the fun out of the hunt, but when a small group was hunting to feed a hundred times their number, I couldn’t blame them for their efficiency.
Especially when they brought out the rods.
Apparently, they use them when they want that challenge. These fishing rods aren’t quick at all, but are often used to catch specific prey, or simply for fun. It would have been so simple for me to dive down in those waters and snap up whatever got in my path, but using one of those rods had made the hunt just as, if not harder than the pseudo-Titans I’ve been cutting down recently.
Most of the difficulty came from contorting my body around a pole that was obviously designed for creatures with limbs, but even when I figured out a workable position — coiling around the handle and holding my tail on the reel — it did not become easy. Suddenly, my hunt had become extraordinarily challenging, despite the prey being weaker than bilbies.
And I loved it.
Though, my reason for coming up here was to learn ways of making hunts easier, not harder, so I couldn’t waste away the days enjoying the challenge. Ceph and I soon left without needing the ship to return to port.
Now, I slither through the air besides Ceph as we travel down the road. Learning about the way sapients gather their food was fun, but I’m just as enthused about our next nation. New species! And especially one that I’d already been mistaken for.
“So portians aren’t serpents?” I ask. “Then why would anyone think I was one?”
“It’s complicated,” Ceph hedges, doing that curling motion with her tentacle that I noticed she did whenever we struck a topic she would rather avoid. If I was nice, I’d back off. Unfortunately for Ceph, I’m simply too curious. I slither in close, and angle my head to stare into her large eyes. As with the last few times I’d tried such, she grows uncomfortable and elaborates.
“They are parasites,” she says. “As long as they can dig their way through the back of the neck, they can take over any creature. That’s why many probably mistake you as one of them; there are no sapient serpents besides yourself, after all.” A silence lingers as we continue to race along the paved road. “They are an unfortunate species. Their kind has made their stance of never controlling a sapient species very clear over the years… but it is hard to trust something that can steal your body from yourself.” Ceph rubs the back of her neck. “Even I can’t help but feel nervous around them at times.”
Oh, that is certainly an interesting problem; to be sapient, yet naturally distrusted by other sapients. Considering they still fall into the instinct of territorial disputes, it’s surprising that such an anathematic species can survive. Is it their very ability to communicate that has saved them from the fear of their neighbours? Or are they like myself; stronger, and therefor not worth fighting while we remain peaceful?
The idea of having one take over my own body is disconcerting, but I trust my abilities too much to fear such an event ever happening. Should the parasites ever breach my hard scales — not that I expect that to be easy — I can simply create a bend around them and pull them out.
Rather than make me wary, Ceph’s description of them has only made me more curious.
I open my mouth to ask about the other race she’s said to live with them — the áinfean — when the echo of an explosion rings through the air. Soon after, the clatter of gunfire reaches us. In a second, I spin up a dozen bends through the air before us. The first thing I notice is the taste of smoke. Next, I lay my eyes on a convoy of trucks, blocked on one side by the burning wreckage of a vehicle that looked like it took a dip in the Magma Ocean. A pair of smaller vehicles — about a quarter the size of the trucks — now cuts off the road leading back.
The scene is reminiscent of the first sapient battle I witnessed. A clear ambush. Except this time, the ambushers have equal numbers, and amongst them, are those of greater strength then the normal worker caste. Two individuals in particular brush off the impact of a hundred bullets as they rush the trucks. The rest seem content shooting from the line of trees.
I’m content to just watch. To see if they can show many any new techniques in applying intelligence to fights. But Ceph is already rushing forward. Ignoring my distortions — or more likely not perceiving them — she barrels down the hill, unsheathing her blades.
By the time she arrives, the two warrior caste ambushers have already slaughtered their way through the first truck. She meets them before they can reach the second. A single dohrni exchanges blows against two albanics — the bipedal monkey-like species — while a rain of gunfire pelts them without care.
“You’re a bit far from the front lines, don’t you think?” Ceph snarls as she twirls the spear of one out of the way and strikes for the heart, only to be knocked back by the second combatant.
“I have no idea what you’re on about,” one spits as he tries to jab her, only for Ceph to curl her body around the strike and barely slip away. “We have no relation to Henosis. This is our battlefield; fighting the oppression and bias of the Merc Order.”
“How noble,” she snarks. “Is that why you make a cowardly blow this far from anyone that can fight back?”
In a show of impressive finesse, Ceph deflects a bullet towards one of the albanic’s eyes. The man dodges to avoid damage to the tender organ, but it only puts him in line for her attack. He tries to twist, but can’t avoid Ceph’s blade burying in his shoulder. Better than his heart.
Ignoring the pain, he grabs the hilt of Ceph’s weapon just long enough for his partner to bring her axe down on her side. Ceph, unable to jerk the blade free, abandons it and leaps away while bringing her other sword up for defence. Against the axe, her defence is found wanting. Her second sword is flung free from her grip, and axe-head slices through the purple skin of her head, leaving a nasty gash.
What am I doing? Am I just going to let Ceph die in the hopes that they will show me new ways to take on stronger opponents? She still has to guide me through all the lands the sapients have to offer. Besides, I’m not the same snake I was before I met Scia. I can admit that I don’t want to let an acquaintance die.
Not that this battle showed me much, anyway.
I slither through my distortion and hover in the air above the fighting. Ceph has pulled out small blades in each of her tentacles, and now she moves around the battlefield as if she was a different beast entirely. The claw-like knives sink into the earth and allow her to change direction in an instant, all the while maintaining her momentum and spin so that she can jab at her opponents without giving them an opportunity to retaliate.
For a moment, I consider just letting her kill them. She’s obviously in control of the situation now that she’s using these weapons rather than the long blades, but as I glance around the road and find the two sides firing at each other, I decide to go ahead with stopping the fight. The more lives, the more I can speak with, after all.
Instead of suppressing my presence, I lean into it. My gathering hiss weighs heavy even in my own chest, and I don’t waste time letting it out on the combatants. “Stop!”
Silence.
I gave my command to the world, and everything within listened.
Gunfire ceased. All combatants — Ceph and the two albanics included — froze stiff. Even the momentum carrying the dohrni along the ground seemed to be scared out of her, and she now hung off the earth by a single knife’s edge.
The only thing that shifted was the incredibly subtle ripples that came off the burning wreckage of the first truck. Even the tongues of fire had frozen where they were. A fire that, in the few moments since the start of the battle, had spread to the surrounding trees.
While everyone tried and failed to breathe, I connected a distortion to the Crippling Depths, and extinguished the fire with a sudden downpour of water. The rend had only been open an instant, but the road was flooded. Only the pressure of my hiss seemed to have kept them in place, and not carried away with the stream.
I waited. As a minute passed, and not even Ceph had gathered herself, I resolved never to weigh my hiss with this much pressure again. It was a bit more powerful than I remembered.
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Sorry for the delay on this chap. Been a real busy couple of weeks for me, and haven't had as much time as I'd like to write.
Comments
alexander nikov
What a polite fire sadly Orm didn't like it 😢
There is a second type of mantis shrimp that spears prey instead.
I wonder what would happen if Orm gave a different command like "JUMP" would they still just be frozen by the power of their presence? or would the fire somehow "jump"?
Samuel_Almonihah
Just "a bit" more powerful than you remembered, hmmm Orm? XD
Napalm078
*does a magical girl transformation that lasts the entire time everyone is frozen*
Trasen56
Lmao
Summer Coff
In the name of love!
YellowChief419
STOP! Collaborate and listen!
