Solaire sat in silence, the rhythmic groaning of the creature's flesh reverberating around him. The walls pulsed faintly, tightening and relaxing as if breathing. There was no way out — at least, not through the rear end of this monstrosity. He had tried to move toward it once, but the narrow passage grew tighter and tighter until he felt the crushing pressure threaten to snap his bones.
He stopped, panting through the acidic air. The faint fumes burned his throat.
"There's only one way," he whispered under his breath.
Gripping the Darksword, its shadowed blade flickering faintly in the murk, Solaire turned toward the slick walls of flesh and began stabbing at the pipes that coiled through the creature's innards. Each strike squelched into muscle, releasing spurts of steaming bile that hissed against his half-healed skin.
The centipede was moving again. Outside, unseen by Solaire, its countless legs scraped through the broken soil of the Dream Realm, its form dragging across the barren landscape. It was heading home. The faint call of its broodmother tugged at its corrupted instincts, guiding it back to the nest buried beneath a mound of rotting earth.
As it slithered forward, a pricking pain began to pulse in its throat. Something sharp, irritating — like a thorn lodged too deep. It gurgled, a hollow sound echoing through its enormous body, but the ache was distant. Its mind, twisted and eroded by corruption, barely registered discomfort. The mother's call grew louder, drowning all else, and the beast continued toward its den.
Inside, Solaire didn't stop. He stabbed and hacked for what felt like hours, but the creature's flesh was dense — elastic yet nearly impenetrable. His strikes barely left marks. Frustration simmered in his chest, and exhaustion soon followed. His essence reserves had long been spent, leaving only dull fatigue in their wake.
He exhaled through clenched teeth.
"I'll have to use the charm… There's no other way."
Pulling the Charm of Silent Oath from his belt, he fastened it to his wrist. Its faint hum filled the silence, a hollow resonance that made the air itself seem to still. He waited for his essence to deplete completely — the charm would only feed him when he was empty, refilling his core with power far greater than what he could normally summon.
It didn't take long. His breath grew heavy, his limbs trembling with emptiness, and then — a sudden surge. Power flooded through him like molten light. The runes etched into his skin shimmered faintly beneath the grime.
Solaire raised his sword.
"Alright. Let's see if this works."
With every ounce of strength he could muster, he brought the Darksword down upon the fleshy wall. The blade cut deep this time, slicing through sinew and pulsing veins. A shriek reverberated through the creature's insides — not a sound, but a vibration, felt in the bones.
A small tear opened in the slick tunnel. Acidic fluid spattered across his face, sizzling faintly. He didn't stop. Again and again, he struck, ignoring the burning, widening the hole one desperate cut at a time.
By the fourth strike, his vision blurred — the essence drain of the charm was beginning to take its toll. He could feel his body trembling under the unnatural surge. Still, he pressed on.
Finally, he managed to pry open a gap just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Without wasting a moment, he dispelled the charm's effect, gasping as the rush of energy abruptly faded.
The creature outside stirred. A dull shudder passed through its body, and it let out a low, rumbling growl. The sensation in its throat had worsened — no longer a prick, but an ache. Still, the corrupted beast, guided by primal instinct, ignored the pain and slithered deeper into its nest. The air there was thick with rot and warmth; countless larvae twitched along the walls.
Solaire pushed through the narrow gap and dropped into what looked like a sea of organs. The smell hit him first — putrid, metallic, suffocating. The space pulsed with every beat of the creature's monstrous heart. Veins ran like black rivers along the walls, some pulsing with faint crimson light.
He pressed on, carefully stepping across the slick ground. Every movement was met with resistance; strands of sinew clung to his boots, stretching like webbing.
He knew he had to reach the core. Destroying it might kill the centipede — and perhaps, loosen the chitinous barriers at its mouth or rear end. It was a gamble, but it was all he had.
Solaire recalled something Julius had once said: "The soul shards lie near the heart. Follow the rhythm of the beast — it always leads to its weakness."
He began to listen. Amid the wet noises and the constant churn of acid, there was a pattern — a pulse, steady but growing fainter. He followed it, climbing through layers of tissue until the air grew hotter and heavier.
At last, he found it. Two radiant shards hovered above a pulsating mass — the soul core. They emitted a dull light, like dying stars.
He swung his sword at one. The blade clanged off it with a metallic hum, barely leaving a scratch. He gritted his teeth and swung again, and again.
Outside, the centipede began to twitch violently. The ground around its nest trembled, fissures opening beneath its many legs. Its body convulsed, thick ichor spilling from its mouth.
Solaire screamed as he struck the shard once more. The impact sent a jolt through his arm. The shard fractured slightly — then, with one final strike, shattered.
A surge of energy exploded through the chamber, sending Solaire flying backward. The centipede let out a deafening screech, its body thrashing in agony. The walls of flesh contracted wildly as the beast began to die.