The Great Core's Paradox 2: A LitRPG Adventure

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I wriggled again, refusing to be one of them. The slow-venom fought against me, but I wriggled once more, bouncing on the threads that I had been attached to. At a little over three-quarters, I petered out. It was pretty good to that point. Or, at least, I was engaged with Paradox the dungeon noodle and his struggles to survive in a deadly environment so far above his capability. I particularly liked his determination that saw him through his challenges.

For our revenge, I would do it again. I did do it again; again and again, I sunk my own fangs into my scale-flesh, until the venom hurt no longer. The Great Core had gifted me the ability to do so; it would be unthinkable to ignore its will. I slithered my way around the forest of glow-caps once again. Though I hadn’t seen any bad-things until I reached the mana-water last time, I still kept a watchful eye on my surroundings. It had taken a bit of time to finish my preparations to reduce the effects of the terrible slow-venom. Things could have changed.

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Drop by crimson drop, my will faded. My length went numb - not with slow-venom this time, but with pure lethargy. I was tired of struggling.

I let my venom course through me again, releasing it from my fangs. It did little, that time. Hopefully, that meant that my resistance had increased enough. Still, I wasn’t entirely sure. The Aridae’s slow-venom was more powerful than my own, in a way, even the infant’s. While it did not kill as mine did, it achieved much the same purpose. Even before it had taken effect entirely, it had prevented me from moving easily. Under its effect, the infant had managed to feel as threatening as a bad-thing more than twice its size. If our fight had gone on longer, it might have even won; I had been helpless once the slow-venom finished setting in, unable to move or defend myself at all.TLDR: It’s good, but I worry the author’s strong writing might not end up being enough to salvage the odd juxtaposition of the story's base premise. The cavern’s edges were split in places; numerous small-tunnels dotted the walls. The sight was comforting, though I knew that each was an area from which a bad-thing could emerge. Still, each was a place that the mother Aridae could not follow. I leaned toward the next of the gathered bad-things, avoiding its thrashing, and sank my fangs into unguarded flesh. [Sting] sparked from my fangs, jumping from their tips. The bad-thing twitched minutely.