Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer-Chapter 98: Molten Maw

The trio exited the lab in silence, their packs loaded with custom gear, biocore amplifiers, and field injectors. Nioh’s eyes were drawn to the sky overhead—crimson and bleeding with dusk. The tower cast long shadows over the city as the day slowly gave way to mission night. He adjusted the belt across his chest, the cryo binder tucked tightly into its holster. The air was tense, but there was an electric buzz running through all three of them. They were no longer just students or pawns—they were professionals now.

They made their way down the spiraling corridor leading to the War Hall, a monolithic structure that shimmered with translucent alloy plating and shifting runes along the floor. The light under their feet seemed to recognize them, projecting blue arcs of their biosigns as they walked.

As they approached the departure terminal, two portal engineers, clad in gilded military garb, activated the dimensional gate.

"Destination: Aspar, verified. Coordinates locked. Portal integrity stable," one of them reported, barely sparing them a glance.

Althea stretched her limbs casually and cracked her neck. "Hope you both packed your sunscreen. I hear Aspar’s heat can melt your attitude off."

Akron smirked. "Hope the dragon doesn’t melt your limbs off."

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "I got extras."

Nioh just smiled and walked into the swirling gate of blue and white light.

The portal swallowed them whole and spat them out into gold.

—

Aspar was radiant.

The moment their boots hit the marbled landing pad, the overwhelming gleam of gold and ore struck them like a divine slap. The capital city of Firanox stretched before them in a glittering maze of jagged architecture, all mineral-based and alchemically reinforced. Gold veins ran through buildings like lifeblood, and the air hummed with industrial energy.

This was Magnus Gold’s fiefdom—no taxes, no permissions. Everything here was his, from the paved obsidian roads to the flying beastships docked along the cliffside.

"Okay," Althea muttered, shielding her eyes. "I get why the monarchs are obsessed with lineage. This place is obscene."

Akron grunted. "Not bad. Still hate nobles though."

Nioh just stared at the horizon. Beyond the city’s glimmer lay jagged terrain—blackened, cracked, and scorched. That was where they were headed.

They didn’t have to wait long. The echo of boots preceded the approach of an old, familiar voice.

"Welcome, young master." Uncle William, in his formal butler attire, stood before them with a smile. "Your vessel awaits. Lord Magnus has requested that you meet him directly in the cradle zone."

The flying beastship that awaited them was a marvel of biomechanical engineering. A fusion of forged gold and living beast, its wings shimmered with integrated core crystal, and the underbelly pulsed with contained ether. The front was shaped like a serpent’s skull, its mouth open to allow boarding.

The crew, mostly automatons and low-ranking Shard Weavers, greeted them with bows as they stepped on. Nioh nodded once to William, who saluted and disappeared with military precision.

The ship rose into the air with a smooth, regal hum. Wind rushed past them as they soared over the Aspar wilds, the verdant richness of cultivated land slowly giving way to barren, broken earth.

—

The Molten Maw came into view.

It was a scar on the earth’s crust. A broken ring of jagged black rock encircled the crater, and red light pulsed within, like a heartbeat. The temperature climbed rapidly. Below, the land oozed molten energy, the very soil twisted by tectonic rage and elemental corruption. Crimson ash drifted lazily through the air. The crater exhaled smoke and steam like a sleeping titan.

They descended slowly, the heat blasting them even through the ship’s reinforced shield. The cradle zone was unstable, wild, and untamed. The Molten Maw wasn’t just a battlefield—it was a living ecosystem of death.

Several makeshift stations and command towers had already been erected around the edges of the crater. Combat engineers and soldiers in gold-trimmed armor moved with urgency, laying groundwork, erecting pylons, and checking resonance dampeners.

As the ship touched down, a familiar figure was already waiting for them at the edge of the staging platform.

Magnus Gold.

Golden cloak over one shoulder, his torso bare and glistening from the heat. He had grown even more muscular since their last encounter, his biocore lines now reaching up to his neck in elegant patterns.

"Nioh," he called, grinning. "Took you long enough."

Nioh stepped forward and bumped forearms with him.

"You didn’t say this place was an oven."

"I figured the flames would speak for themselves."

Akron and Althea landed behind him. Magnus nodded to each of them. "Thanks for coming. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this."

He pointed behind him at the raging molten crater.

"The Larva Dragon’s been dormant for a week, but its heartbeat has been picking up. We’ve lost two scouting teams and one mining caravan. Every time we try to get close to extract core material, it destabilizes the zone."

Nioh narrowed his eyes. "So it’s a guardian."

"Exactly," Magnus said. "It’s not just a beast—it’s become the apex of this cradle zone. That means it’s absorbing energy from the ecosystem. If we let it grow much longer, it could reach bioevolution."

"And become a Dragon Lord," Akron finished, grim. "Then it won’t just defend the cradle, it’ll expand."

Magnus nodded.

"I sent three teams," Magnus said. "Only one made it out. The creature’s bio-core is unstable. It’s adapted to the terra-pulse, absorbing geothermal energy faster than we can predict."

"Cradle rules?" Nioh asked.

"No restrictions," Magnus said grimly. "No expectations either. The council won’t care if you live or die—they just want the zone cleared."

"That’s encouraging," Althea muttered.

Nioh glanced at the map Magnus pulled up. "Why is it sleeping?"

"Resting," Magnus confirmed. "It reacts to seismic patterns. You’ll have a thirty-minute window during the thermal low tide. After that..."

"We’re toast," Akron finished.

Magnus looked at them, eyes narrowing. "This isn’t like your last mission. It won’t be smart. It won’t talk. It doesn’t want power. It just wants to burn."

Nioh exhaled slowly. "Then let’s cool it."

Althea strapped on her bracers. "Time to see if all your fancy tools actually work, blacksmith."

"The plan is simple," Akron stepped forward, pulling a holomap from his pack. He projected a full 3D model of the crater zone. "There’s a dead rock spine on the western edge. That’s where we’re entering. We drop down, Althea scouts the terrain and sets up relay beacons. We draw the dragon out with a sound lure—"

"Which I’ll handle," Nioh added.

"Exactly," Akron said. "Once it emerges, I take point and test its defenses. Althea rotates between support and decoy. Nioh stays back, targeting it with the cryo binder until we can lock it down."

"We get one clean shot," Althea chimed in. "After that, it’ll adapt. We can’t let the fight drag."

Nioh was already reviewing elemental response charts in his mind. The binder had been reinforced with insulated casing, loaded with a tri-phase core that would collapse into a cold-fusion tether once deployed. It was their only chance to slow the dragon’s molten bloodstream.

"Questions?" Akron asked.

"Just one," Nioh said. "Where do we bury it?"

Magnus let out a sharp laugh.

"Save that for later."

They turned toward the edge of the crater. The heat was unbearable now, and the smell of sulfur and burning minerals made the air thick.

"Gear up," Akron ordered. "We drop in fifteen."

—

From the lip of the Molten Maw, the view was apocalyptic.

Jagged volcanic stone formed obsidian spires across the inner ring. Rivers of magma flowed like veins, some fed by geysers that erupted randomly from deep within the earth. Strange creatures slithered across the heat-cracked surfaces—fire salamanders, emberhounds, and flying insects with wings of glass.

A roar echoed from deep within the crater. It wasn’t loud. It was low, guttural... primal. It reverberated through the soles of their boots.

The Larva Dragon was stirring.

The air around the deployment chamber was dry and silent. Magnus’s crew had constructed a temporary gate point on the rim of the Molten Maw—just outside the range of the dragon’s seismic senses. Nioh stood beside Magnus now, the prince’s golden armor shimmering under the lanterns.

"I’ve reinforced the terra grid," Magnus said. "But the minute that dragon smells you, all bets are off."

"Anything else you would like to add?" Nioh asked.

"Be careful," Magnus added quietly. "I know you can handle yourselves, but this... this thing doesn’t follow rules."

Nioh patted his friend’s shoulder. "Neither do we Magnus. Wait for my good news"

Nioh adjusted his headset and strapped the modulator to his back. Althea slid her arms into two compression sleeves and let them absorb into her body, her limbs pulsing with metallic sheen. Akron rotated his neck and stretched his shoulders. He wore no armor—just his fists.

The drop timer clicked down.

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

They jumped.

Freefall into heat and chaos. freeweɓnøvel.com

The hunt had begun.