The Great Core's Paradox 2: A LitRPG Adventure

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The giant Aridae touched the stone floor of the alcove. Her many, many legs flexed, cushioning the impact. Before I knew it, she was waiting next to me.

I was thirsty again - yet, this time, I would wait. I would bear it. There were things that I needed to do.The story is so far very interesting but since it has been progressing slowly up to now there is again not much to say about it but it has a lot of potential at least since what we have been told and shown is all good and makes you want to know more about what is going on and what will happen.

I wriggled slightly. It wasn’t much; my length barely jostled, my bindings hardly moved. It was a start. My thoughts were weak. I was weak. The threads that wrapped around me had been dyed crimson with my blood; it dripped down to the cavern below, forming tiny red splotches that I could only faintly see. Whether that was due to the droplets of venom that had seared their way across much of my eyes or just the distance, I wasn’t sure. Streamlined Scales] , I realized after a short amount of testing, caused my slithers to be more effective underwater. A useful Trait, but not a powerful one. Still, the Blueswifts were small enough that they might be worth trying to consume in a life without [Size] . Satisfied with that, I moved onto the final pile of bad-things large enough to provide me a Trait - and the only ones that had no trouble breathing outside of the water.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. I hung like that for a long time. Hours. More, maybe. The slow-venom was losing its effect, but it didn’t matter. It was too late. There are some hints that it's a time loop story, but it really isn't if only because the resets are difficult and have big consequences. What it does mean is that the author gets a do-over if a plot line goes sideways and while not really abused, it's kind of always there. There's a bit of a meta-realization much later by the protagonist regarding this, but it's not clear how that'll shake out for now. The end result is that the story has a fly by seat of pants quality to it and really there are no limitations on where the story could go. The wounds from the Aridae, both infant and mother, were too much. A few times, I tried to bend enough to reach my tail. I knew that if I could do that, I might be able to heal enough to resist.

Then, with a snip, one of my puppets let it free. It was dead before it could even flee, crushed tight between my coils and dropped between my jaws. I flinched as a barbed tendril caught vulnerable mouth-flesh on the way down, the touch setting off a burning, painful spark that zapped across my mouth-flesh.I had finally had enough when Paradox became an object of devotion even though he still can't understand human speech or have any kind of conversation with them. I got impatient that all the misunderstandings still exist. But more that his internal insistence on his superiority based on a fiction is still so indomitably expressed. The threads were full; they burst with life, one bad-thing after another caught in their embrace. They thrashed and writhed, trying to break free. The threads held fast, clinging to flesh despite the mana-water that drenched their lengths.

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. In other news, there are a lot of parts of the story that either repeat something that just happened or that are so strongly reminiscent of something that happened long ago that the story itself is slower and repetitive because of it. Some parts of the story are a real slog to get through, especially some of the battles (which I found myself skimming over). I just binged through all 142 chapters and while the updates are frequent, I'm not sure if anything is happening fast enough for it to matter. It was the last of those that I targeted. With thought-hiss after thought-hiss, I set my spore-puppets in motion. With the efforts of countless Darkweavers combined, it wasn’t long before an array of threads stretched from one side of the river to another. Small gaps in the threads’ weave allowed the mana-water to rush through, allowing the combined weight of many spore-puppets to hold the threads down from each side of the rushing river. Aridae of assorted shapes and sizes scrambled across the strong bundles of thread, winding across them as easily as I might wind across the Great Core’s sacred spots. It was their home, their place of power. Sting] sparked in my mouth, just a little more powerful than before. I found myself idly chomping at the air, enjoying the pleasant spark, while my puppets freed the next bad-thing. With no more Tanglestings to consume, I had been forced to move on to the next-largest grouping of bad-things. They were sleek and thin, with a design that I almost admired. While underwater, they flitted about at high speeds, ambushing their prey and fleeing from the larger bad-things that preyed on them . Their scales, eyes, and teeth all held the blue of mana-water. Perfect predators of the deep were it not for their small size, almost invisible in the mana-water’s currents.

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i like the characters, certainly the mc. he is written with depth and I personally like how he rolls. some of the stuff he thinks is just downright funny, I really felt a connection with our awesome mc. I also like some of the side characters, I don't feel a connection with them like I do with the Mc, but there pretty good, and I think that there written really well. The Aridae had pulled me into a vast network of shimmering white threads, stringing across the distance between massive stone-spikes. The threads twisted together, forming themselves into great bridges, easily allowing the giant bulk of the Aridae to travel across. I imagined that even I, without the many legs of the Aridae, might be able to slither across their lengths. I chewed on my own tail. The act was no longer comforting in the way that it used to be. Instead, it was more of a means to an end; it was a step towards revenge, a symbol of my hatred. A precursor to my victories.