Cat Core 3, Chapter 35+36.

Two chapters today since they're shorter ones.

Chapter 35

“Stop the pain!” Aaron shouted as the lich did something to his core.

“Quiet, fool. That’s feedback from something not of my doing. I need to focus,” Berikoz snapped back. Normally he’d reinforce his will with some kind of torment on the bothersome core he was housed in, but the pain this core was currently feeling proved to be enough. He placed the pain; it was feedback from one of his cores being destroyed. The feeling was distinctly different from the destruction of a phylactery, not that he had any of those remaining.

The cores he had prepared functioned in a similar manner to a normal phylactery, but instead of slowly rebuilding his form, they would allow him to teleport to them almost instantly. Unfortunately, those were being destroyed as well. Some he had fed on too deeply, needing their power to stave off the losses he sustained each time a phylactery was destroyed. Other cores had been meddled with by that creature Florence Valentine.

Searching for the source of this pain proved difficult. His power had dropped to a pathetic level of twenty over the last week as the effect of losing all his phylacteries finally stabilized. The two cores that Florence had destroyed also depleted him, leaving him with only one viable core to transport himself to. Several others were imperfect, only suitable for feeding. So far, this Aaron Lavelle’s core had proven a sufficient host, but Berikoz didn’t live as long as he had by not having multiple escape plans.

Those multiple escape plans had dwindled to one. Sure, he could emerge from his current core and go about his business, but the moment he did, he would lose the core energy that shielded him from scrying. Given all the resources being thrown into the search for him, either the king of Fintok or the adventurers guild would be on him in no time. He drew energy from one of the imperfect cores he was linked to, using it up completely to fuel his spell.

It was as he had feared; the slime and vermin core under the city of Darnglade had been destroyed. The link was gone; his last bolt hole had been sealed away. He was stuck either in this core or facing certain death outside. More power was leeched from him, and Berikoz greedily pulled from the remaining imperfect cores, their power staving off some of the loss. When the last core was drained, he was still losing power. It was tempting, almost too tempting, to pull from Aaron’s core, but Berikoz couldn’t risk his current hiding place.

“What happened? I feel weaker somehow,” Aaron said, his confusion overcoming his fear of Berikoz for the moment.

“We have been attacked again, and I know just who is responsible,” Berikoz said. He could see, right before the link had been severed, that Florence Valentine had, once more, destroyed another of his cores.

“Can we send out the tribe to hunt them down?” Aaron asked. “Otherwise, we’re going to waste away to nothing?”

“We will not waste away to nothing. The power loss will stop momentarily. As for sending the tribe out to deal with the problem, that won’t be necessary. The problem is coming to us, I believe.” Berikoz realized that the only remaining link Florence could follow was the one leading them here, to this desolate dungeon far from where she was now. It would take her time to reach them, and by then, he would be ready, having fed deeply, siphoning off mana from each kill the dungeon made.

“I’m down to level 12. No, level 11,” Aaron said with frustration.

Berikoz ignored the fool and his whining. The losses in power were painful, but in the end, he would defeat Florence, which would gain him several levels, and then he would bide his time. A few centuries from now, he would be forgotten and could walk the world once more, rebuilding his hidden empire.

“Send one of your defenders to contact the tribe. Have them bring us any of the old and weak. We need nourishment. Also, tell them to prepare for an attack. It doesn’t hurt to give them warning of what’s coming,” Berikoz ordered. The tribe that served him would comply, worshipping the lich as a minor god of their people. Praising strength above all else, they would gladly sacrifice the weak to please their master. Normally, he would just wait for more adventurers or hapless explorers to happen by and be captured, but he was concerned over his weakened state and wanted as much energy as he could gain.

The tribe, who called themselves the Pale Ravens, constituted most of his remaining followers. They had set up a camp near the dungeon entrance, their fifty warriors ready to do his bidding. Other followers had turned up, but most of the myriad of others that he once commanded had not answered his call, refusing to respond now that they sensed weakness in him. A pair of necromancers, brothers, sought his knowledge to become liches themselves, and Berikoz kept them around by doling out fragments of his knowledge from time to time.

The last of his followers were a feral band of halflings he had discovered on a distant island decades ago. Normally, halflings were pitiful creatures whose presence offered nothing other than raw materials for his experiments. These, however, were amusing. Bloodthirsty, they were cannibals that fed on their own kind when they couldn’t trap any other humanoids. Three dozen of the monsters survived from the hundreds they once were, but with the Pale Ravens keeping them fed from the captives they had gathered, the halflings’ numbers were stable for the time being.

“Florence Valentine, I believe I’m looking forward to your visit. My forces will be too much for whatever paltry force you have come to acquire,” Berikoz said. He had some time before her arrival, and he would use that to strengthen his position. Another level left him, bringing him and Aaron down to level 10, but with that, the decline finally stopped, stabilizing as a trio of elderly tribesmen and a young woman maimed in battle were sacrificed to the dungeon by the Pale Ravens.

Chapter 36

“Why, Sabrina, you’re lovely,” Florence said as they transformed back into their hybrid form.

“Thank you, Florence. It’s good, and strange, to have a body again,” the young woman said. They had talked while they waited for their transformation to complete and had spoken a lot about what Sabrina remembered from her prior life. She had feared that her form might be something hideous—there was no guarantee she was from Earth or even human, for that matter—and would revert to something none of them had seen before. Thankfully, she appeared like a normal young lady in her teens, save for having a green tint to her skin, not something entirely unusual in a land where orcs and goblins were a thing.

“Where to next?” Doug asked.

“Let me look. While I’m doing that, you go find Scythe, Patricio,” Florence said. Pulling out her map, she concentrated on the link to the next of the corrupted cores. Time was ticking by, and she had no idea how many more she would have to deal with. Maybe they’d all be as nice as Sabrina and she could grow quite a party of hybrids to face down the lich.

Florence felt the familiar pull, the link between her and the lich guiding her to the next core. It was pretty far, on the other side of the continent and, once more, located in a mountain. It seemed like way too many of these cores were dropped in mountains for some reason. The link was different this time, the connection stronger. As the exact core location etched itself on her map, Florence could feel him. The lich was in this core.

“We’ve found him!” Florence exclaimed.

“The lich?” Doug asked.

“Yep. There he is. This is the last core he can hide in. I can feel him there and there’s no link to anything else. He’s there. We can finally end this,” Florence said.

“Good, but are we ready?” George asked. The normally unflappable guy looked a bit concerned.

“We don’t have any other choice. The lich is there. This is the last core. If we wait any longer, he’ll just grow in power.” Florence was concerned as well but believed they were going to do this. They had to.

“I hear you’re looking to strike another deal?” Scythe said.

“Yep. We need to teleport again, and I’m willing to make you some reward chests to purchase our ride.”

“We might be able to work something out, but this is a lot further than the last one we made for you,” Scythe said. The mage, Reggie, looked over the map and mumbled calculations to himself.

“I’ll give you the same as last time, a hundred chests for each of us. Heck, we even have an extra passenger for you. You can also keep the coin that I gave you as a deposit,” Florence offered, not forgetting the money she had won from Scythe and paid back earlier.

“Not good enough. You just destroyed the local dungeon. That’ll hurt some of my business. It would be easier just to sell your location. You’ve ticked off a lot of people, people willing to pay big money to get their hands on you,” Scythe said.

“We’re not so easy to catch, and I thought you said we had a deal,” Florence replied, getting a bit angry with this woman. She was worse than a used car salesman.

“I think a fair trade this time would be for two hundred chests per person,” Scythe said.

“That’s way too much. I’ll give you a 110 and maybe throw in a few extra for Reggie here as a tip for his efforts,” Florence countered.

“Two hundred each or I’ll find alternate means of generating revenue,” Scythe threatened. There were six of them, and twelve hundred reward chests would take a lot of time to generate, maybe even more than she could do in one go, needing to stay in the same place longer than she’d like.

“Okay, how about a little wiggle room on your part? I’ll give you what you’re asking, but like before, you’ll have to wait for me to transform again, about a week, and I’ll need you to transport us before that transformation,” Florence said.

“I realize you must transform to make my chests, but there’s no way I’m going to teleport you before getting paid this time.”

“I need to go in about a week. I assume you can’t teleport an entire dungeon?” Florence asked Reggie. “If you can, there’s no problem. If you can’t, then I need to go before I can make your chests.”

“There’s no way to move anything like a dungeon,” the mage answered. Florence knew the lich was just going to get stronger, and if she transformed in a week and spent that time pumping out reward chests, she’d have to wait at least another week to make her move. Not only would the time difference possibly prove fatal, but giving Scythe what she wanted upfront would only leave her free to sell out Florence for a second payday.

“Okay, 250 chests per person, and I send a team with you to make sure you hold up your end of the bargain,” Scythe countered.

“Two hundred and twenty, not a chest more,” Florence said, putting her foot down.

“Deal,” Scythe said, looking decidedly unhappier than normal.

“Like my old papaw used to say, the sign of a fair deal is when both parties aren’t quite happy with what they got,” Florence said.

“That kind of makes sense. When do you want to leave?” Scythe asked.

“Just under seven days from now. I want to teleport right before the transformation so that lich can’t catch us outside and vulnerable.”

“Good. That’ll give me some extra time. I haven’t been to the place you want to go, so it’ll take me time to prepare,” the mage said.

“Are you going to come with us?” Florence asked Scythe.

“No. Reginald, Hendry, and a strike team of six will go to keep an eye on you,” Scythe said. Florence hadn’t told her that there would likely be a fight soon after they arrived, and having a group of rogues wouldn’t hurt their chances of surviving. Too bad Scythe wasn’t coming; she was likely the deadliest of the bunch. Still, if Florence was attacked early, the ones they did send would have to help or risk losing their investment. Florence realized that Scythe would sell their location out as soon as they had their loot, so she didn’t feel too bad about pulling her own deception.

They were left to their own devices again after the deal was struck, and Florence became more and more worried as the days passed. If Scythe was going to double-cross them, it would happen soon. Patricio spent his days in the tavern, singing for coins and the adulation of the crowd, while the rest of them kept to themselves. Sabrina spoke with Florence every chance she got, wanting to hear everything about Earth in the hope of triggering some new memory.

Losing everything you knew had to be tough, but Florence could tell that despite lacking a lot of her memories, Sabrina had retained who she was. That was the important part, remaining true to yourself when you were a core. The temptation to devolve into a monster was always there, lurking in the back of their minds. Florence also spoke with the team about her plans for their future after the lich was gone. She didn’t want to be like she had been before. She wanted her home to be something people enjoyed, not something they feared or fought. A plan was forming, and the team seemed to be of like mind, but defeating the lich needed their complete focus, at least for the time being.

The rogues checked in on them at least once a day. Usually it was Hendry, who kept asking about Bhargath and wanted to know if he could see the kitty again. The man was hell on wheels with his daggers but a big kid when he wasn’t fighting. Florence kind of felt sorry for him. He had a good heart, and she’d hate to see it corrupted by the work he was locked into. When the time was nearly up and Florence could start to feel the pains of transformation beginning, she sent for Reggie.

Just before she got worried they weren’t going to make it in time, the mage arrived at the tavern and led them back into the cellars. Hendry and six other rogues were present, wearing studded leather that had been darkened to blend with the shadows. Most had a visible dagger or shortsword, but she was confident they had more than a few weapons hidden about their persons.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Reggie asked.

“Of course. Get moving. I don’t have much time,” Florence said, admittedly becoming crankier as the pain mounted. Reggie did his thing, chanting and whatnot. Eventually, a portal opened, and he waved them through the glowing light. Three of the rogues led the way, followed by Florence’s group and then the remaining rogues. Reggie brought up the rear, closing the portal behind him.

“That wasn’t easy. What now?” Reggie asked, out of breath from holding the distant portal open for that long.

“Let me get my bearings,” Florence said. They were on what looked like open tundra, with a snowstorm blocking their view of anything more than a few feet away in any direction. She could feel the other core—and Berikoz. They were close, so this was as good a place as any to start things off. Nothing fancy, just a slight depression in the ground would serve as an entrance to her home.

“You might want to stand back a bit,” Patricio said, showing the guild members where to go so they weren’t caught up by the transformation. She hadn’t thought about that much. Old Patricio wasn’t part of her home, so he had a front-row seat each time she transformed. Florence wondered what he saw but then couldn’t think about anything else as the transformation began.