Leyndell, Royal Capital.
The city's once prosperous and vibrant atmosphere was gone. Even through several millennia of continuous decline, the people had maintained a certain degree of optimism, for the pride of Leyndell remained. They had even achieved victory in small-scale conflicts with Volcano Manor.
Unfortunately, a recent string of events had shattered their confidence, as evidenced by the current scene:
With a rumble, the great gates swung open. Exhausted golden soldiers marched with slow steps, while the rear of the column dragged along the heavily wounded and their battered supplies.
The faces of the onlookers lining the road were grave.
They had received news of the battle at the lift earlier. Learning that the Soul Cinder King had once again found the golden army, they had a bad feeling. They had prepared themselves mentally, but seeing it in person still sent a chill down their spines.
"Were they all wiped out? I don't see the garrison's banner."
"To think they lost an entire formation. That's something that didn't even happen during the war against the Demigod coalition, right?"
"That was different. How could you lose an entire army in a defensive siege?"
"This time it was a field battle they lost to the Soul Cinder King. They say she used all sorts of magic, unfathomably deep. The commotion was even more exaggerated than when she fought the Ancient Dragon before the city walls."
"Are we not good at field battles?"
"Perhaps. The dynasty has not engaged in large-scale offensive wars of annihilation since the time of the First King."
The onlookers were shocked. Just seeing the wrecked supply train gave them a glimpse of the battlefield's corner. The fighting must have been too brutal, a heavy loss of soldiers and commanders.
Even a Crucible Knight was lost. Such living fossils, these veterans, were the army's backbone; their significance was immense.
In a sense, they were the First King's personal guard, invincible and ever-victorious. They had even survived the siege by the Demigod coalition.
Now, a casualty had finally appeared, slain by the hand of the Soul Cinder King.
The Leyndell Knights' faces were filled with shame. How had they failed to protect their homeland? To let one of his important comrades-in-arms sacrifice himself in vain even before the First King's return... it was a disgrace.
The silent procession continued straight towards the inner city.
No one spoke a word. The quiet itself represented a kind of tension, the atmosphere incomparably heavy.
All of this, of course, did not escape Morgott's attention. Yet, standing on the palace balcony, there were no effective countermeasures he could take.
Offer encouragement?
On one hand, it wasn't his strong suit. On the other, in what capacity? As the Fell Omen? Or as the fully cloaked "Grace-Given King"? Neither would work. He was constrained at every turn.
Today's defeat was the result of a pile-up of unfavorable factors.
Just as he was pondering, he suddenly heard a set of steady footsteps. His Night's Cavalry guards tried to block the way but were pushed aside by a powerful aura. It was several Crucible Knights—some from the Eternal City, some from the Hero's Grave, some from the Royal Capital itself, and even some from the sealed Gaols...
Comrades who had once fought side-by-side had assembled.
The atmosphere was tense. The Night's Cavalry were on high alert. What if the others suddenly attacked?
If such a group of Crucible Knights attacked together, even Lord Morgott wouldn't be able to hold them off, right?
Their leader, Ordovis, suddenly spoke: "We have gathered here to welcome the impending return of His Majesty Godfrey, to defend the honor of the Golden Dynasty, and to seek revenge. Our interests are aligned."
They completely ignored the features of the Omen.
Morgott replied decisively: "That could not be better. With you and the First King, the Royal Capital will continue to stand tall. This temporary turmoil is but a test."
Crumbling Farum Azula, the sky city in a gradually collapsing vortex.
The shattered ruins of magnificent architecture remained on the precipice, in a state of being about to fall but never falling. A city frozen at the moment before its demise, where time and space had solidified. Amidst howling winds and crashing lightning, what would be a land of cataclysm for ordinary people still served as the habitat of the Ancient Dragons.
The injured Lansseax landed with a beat of her wings and let out a long sigh.
"That one is truly outrageous. She actually pierced through my scale defenses. I'll need to rest for a while."
Recalling the battle with Frieren now, a lingering fear remained. If she hadn't retreated then, the other party would most likely have used even more terrifying methods.
"Who could injure you? And to this extent!"
an Ancient Dragon asked in astonishment. Several of its companions nearby also stared wide-eyed. After all, Lansseax was considered top-tier among them. How could she return in such a sorry state?
"I sparred with the sovereign of this age who is closest to the Elden Ring."
"That must have been very challenging."
Even the Ancient Dragons, far away in their sky city, had heard a little about the Soul Cinder King: defeating Radahn to set the stars in motion, slaying Astel, Stars of Darkness. It was hard not to notice these two major events, both world-shaking feats.
Now Frieren had another feat to her name: a great battle with the witch-priestess of the Ancient Dragons before the Royal Capital.
"Did anything special happen while I was away?"
"Two things."
"First: it's unclear why, but yesterday... well, it's hard to tell time here, but anyway, Maliketh suddenly went berserk, roaring and shouting in the sealed temple. Said something about a fragment of Destined Death being loose in the world, something Marika arranged long ago..."
The Ancient Dragons began to discuss animatedly, but couldn't reach any conclusion.
Who could blame them? The Black Blade was usually cryptic and prone to fits of madness, constantly lamenting his failure during the Night of the Black Knives. He was basically impossible to communicate with.
Lansseax's gaze grew cold as she looked into the distance, and she couldn't help but think of the one-eyed witch, the golden scion named Melina, who seemed to be sealing a power of Destined Death.
Her reaction silenced her companions, who whispered back, "Could it be that you know a clue?"
Lansseax was silent.
So it seemed she really did know.
The familiar Ancient Dragons immediately understood each other and didn't press further. The laid-back group didn't like to dig deep. They would just treat it as a secret. They certainly didn't want Maliketh to know too much.
Nominally, the Ancient Dragon clan was allied with the Golden Lineage, but the obligations of this alliance were virtually non-existent.
Having the strongest assassin stationed in their sky city was a statement in itself. The Eternal Queen Marika had placed a key piece on the board, holding Destined Death to threaten the sky city and keep the rulers of the previous dynasty in check. Who would be happy about that? In the eyes of the proud Ancient Dragons, the alliance was a nice way of saying they were being suppressed.
Sooner or later, they would make the Golden Dynasty pay a heavy price.
"By the way, what was the second thing?"
A faint signal.
"Could it be that after all these years, Fortissax is still tirelessly sending signals?" Lansseax's face showed a trace of nostalgia. "As a fellow priest, her will truly commands my admiration."
"We judge that the Land of Shadow may be unsealed, but our clan will not know peace until Bayle is eliminated."
"...Now that you mention it, I remember a rumor: the current Soul Cinder King has found the sealing place of the Land of Shadow."
"What?"
The Ancient Dragons looked at each other, not expecting the events to connect.
"Immediately write a letter to the Magic Academy in my name, and send it with the utmost speed—"
Roundtable Hold, in the main hall.
Sir Gideon Ofnir, inside his office, heard a knock. He signaled to Ensha to open the door, welcoming two guests.
"D, Rogier, it's good to see you both recovered."
The knight laughed heartily and said, "Yes, we will continue to investigate Fia's matter. We probably won't be visiting for a long time, so we came to say hello in advance, as a sort of farewell."
"It's not that simple, is it?"
D snorted coldly, "Ofnir, you've been letting the Deathbed Companion accumulate power all along, haven't you? It nearly caused a death in this sanctuary for the Tarnished."
"You didn't die, after all. However, as the one in charge, I cannot escape my share of the blame. I will offer appropriate compensation."
"No need. I should get going, wait outside."
After giving his companion a look, he strode away. It was enough to have voiced his accusation; he didn't want the scheming Sir Gideon to think the matter was over and done with. What came next would take its own course.
His own strength wasn't enough for revenge yet, and besides, the animosity between them wasn't that deep.
However, as D arrived at the Roundtable, he still saw a figure in a red hood at the end of the other corridor. It was Roderika. She met his gaze timidly, and D gave a slight nod.
It must have just been a momentary argument. She almost thought infighting was about to break out. But ever since the path to the Altus Plateau had opened, Roundtable Hold had become busy, and also lonelier. The unchanging atmosphere was undergoing a dramatic shift, which was unsettling.
"Fewer and fewer people are around. Are you two leaving as well? To find the roots of the Erdtree?"
"Yes—but don't worry, it's only temporary. I and Lady Frieren will visit often. Miss Roderika and old Hewg, please take care of yourselves. Don't worry about us."
"As if I'd bother worrying about you lot."
A resonant reply came from the forge, making both D and Roderika laugh.
Back in the office, Rogier took out a Deathroot.
"I've asked the Beast Clergyman. The further north one goes, the more severe the contamination of the collected Deathroots. Considering the impending journey to the depths..."
Sir Gideon didn't say a word and handed over a dossier. As expected, it recorded all sorts of information about the underground.
Very detailed.
"If this is combined with the underground areas already explored by the southern army for cross-referencing, it shouldn't be difficult to find clues to pinpoint Deeproot Depths. By then, we should be able to clarify the matter of the Prince of Death, Godwyn, and at least put an end to the pollution of Those Who Live in Death."
"However, I suggest you just conduct preliminary exploration. When it's time for action, it would be best to call on Frieren."
"Of course. Speaking of which, I didn't expect you to be so straightforward."
"Fia, you two, Frieren, Corhyn, the Dung Eater, and Nepheli... you've all gradually found your paths."
"According to your philosophy, you should reject change, shouldn't you? Even lean towards the Fingers."
Sir Gideon didn't answer.
Rogier became more certain he hadn't guessed wrong, and then said, "It's too early for you to decide what the beings of the Lands Between should be like. I have a feeling that the ancient Land of Shadow holds new truths. What will you think then?"
Having said his piece, he strode away. The Ofnir of today was more of a Tarnished who had lost his edge. Too boring.
With the duo's departure, Roundtable Hold felt a bit lonelier.
In the Liurnia of the Lakes region, the main road to the Altus Plateau was bustling with activity, with wagons rumbling by.
The sorcerers of the Magic Academy's engineering corps were directly in charge, methodically clearing away the series of fortifications originally left for defense. Instead, they began to reinforce and repair them, ensuring passage for the great army in the future.
The tables had turned. Now it was the Southern Army's turn to plan for the inevitable general offensive.
The nearby Frenzied Flame Village was purified and repurposed into a temporary supply depot, where a large amount of equipment was stockpiled. Naturally, the nearby Church of Vows also became a temporary command post, bustling with people every day, countless times livelier than before.
Its original master, however, was complaining bitterly:
"So noisy, it's loud all day long. Speaking of which, you two were engaged last time. Coming together this time... you're not going to ask me to divine an auspicious wedding date, are you?"
The great turtle pastor Miriel's gaze shifted between the silver-haired and blue-haired maidens.
Ranni touched the Dark Moon Ring on her hand and was about to speak, but Frieren next to her answered first:
"On my trip to the Altus Plateau, I came into contact with new systems, the Ancient Dragon incantations and the incantations of the Crucible's Aspects. I tried to learn them but hit a bottleneck, so I wanted to ask for your guidance."
Since that was the case, Ranni had no choice but to add: "I just came to see the lift, which has been in operation for some time. You two go ahead."
What a troublesome pair.
Complaining internally, Miriel sighed, then glanced at Melina standing at a distance feeding Torrent. The latter would occasionally look over, the Rowa Fruit in her hands scattering all over the ground without her noticing, forcing the spirit steed to peck at them from the dense grass.
He had no choice but to first educate the eager-to-learn Frieren, and in the process, revealed some knowledge of ancient incantations.
In truth, he was not proficient in either of those two incantations.
But it didn't matter, because the Soul Cinder King was the number one genius in the Lands Between, with an aptitude perhaps even greater than Radagon's. She always understood with a single hint.
Therefore, what she needed wasn't detailed instruction on a specific incantation, but a systematic enlightenment of knowledge. Just telling Frieren the basics made her nod thoughtfully. Was she getting it again already?
A moment later.
The silver-haired girl finally stopped asking questions and instead began to constantly try using the power of incantations, faintly showing traces of the Crucible's Aspects.
Miriel was already numb to this. A genius cannot be understood by ordinary people.
"Alright, you can practice on your own from now on. What I can teach probably ends here."
"Thank you, Pastor."
"One more thing, Frieren," Ranni said. "My mother and I have found some news about the Mother of Fingers: she exists, but has been missing for too long. There was a professor from the Academy named Ymir who studied her deeply and followed Rennala to the Land of Shadow. In other words, finding him, or the materials he left in the Land of Shadow, will surely shed light on the Mother of Fingers."
"But don't act rashly. De-prioritize him. When the Mother of Fingers is involved, you can't be too careful. You must be fully prepared before you act."
"Mm, I plan to explore the southeast of the Land of Shadow first."
"If only I could enter the barrier with you then."
"It won't be long. My repeated teleportations with Miquella's followers have already weakened it. There's just one other problem: Miquella's charm is constantly taking effect through the barrier. We have to break that spell first."
Frieren stroked her chin, thinking, but for the moment she couldn't figure out a breakthrough. As expected of the most fearsome Demigod, he was very difficult to deal with.
_____
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