A perfect fit. This trip was well worth it. I never expected to find a top-tier sorcery hidden in an unassuming corner of Shadow Keep. Although its description doesn't mention any legendary magic, it's undoubtedly a perfect match for Frieren's style.
The Thorns of Rejection can inflict hemorrhage, curse, and even a trace of Outer God corruption. Born from the same powers of despair, gravity, and darkness, combining them elevates its might to a whole new level, thanks mainly to its solid foundation.
No wonder players left so many messages:
[Thorns of Rejection rejects everything, it even survived a nerf.]
[Glad I got it at the right time. Used it to beat the game, otherwise mages stand no chance against Miquella. With this, you just keep spamming Thorns of Rejection from a safe distance, and their health bar is empty in a few hits. Much faster.]
[Another fine addition to the electric wheelchair collection.]
[You have to use cheesy tactics against monsters. You turned into a rabid dog first, so don't blame me for being ruthless.]
[Even though its power isn't as broken as it used to be, Thorns of Rejection still benefits from damage buffs, and its core mechanics like long range and chain-casting are still there.]
[You have a great foundation.]
[I'm used to it, so I'll keep using Thorns of Rejection. As long as you stack enough buffs, it's still powerful.]
[Strong mechanics are what make something truly strong, just like that bloody monster arm—it's still top-tier even after being nerfed. Thorns of Rejection is usable now. Maybe it's not quite a wheelchair build, but its power is definitely up to par.]
[During my first playthrough, I was going through a new wheelchair build every day.]
[Only the most broken designs and absurd numbers are worthy of the Tarnished's favor. Don't stop, keep digging!]
[The range on Thorns of Rejection is insane. Every time I think I'm out of range, it still hits. Once you confirm the lock-on, just keep spamming. If the enemy doesn't rush you down, their health bar will be empty.]
[We mages are finally standing tall in the Land of Shadow. Otherwise, we'd all just be turtling behind shields.]
[The multi-hit judgment on this thing is insane damage.]
Although Frieren had yet to use Thorns of Rejection in combat, she grasped its mechanics as soon as she acquired it. As expected, the players' words rang true.
The new sorcery emphasized hemorrhage damage. Whether it had been nerfed was unimportant, as she had already decided to augment it with other compatible magics, creating entirely new damage output through explosive modifications on top of its original foundation.
Now a permanent part of her arsenal, it was another powerful tool at her disposal.
As she once again extended her senses in a wide-ranging scan of the area ahead, a formidable presence began to dispel her psychic energy.
The remote mental confrontation sent a searing sensation back to her. A fire of corrosion, burning from the inside out, caused Frieren to raise an eyebrow. Clearly, Messmer was expressing his disgust for the uninvited guest.
"We're almost there."
"Let's meet with Ansbach one last time in Shadow Keep and give him the new information."
Melina agreed. The old gentleman showed potential for recruitment and might offer some assistance.
Teleporting back to the bookshelf, they found two people. Freyja and Ansbach were in conversation. They were no longer surprised by Frieren's apparitions; this heavily guarded repository was practically her home.
"Since you're both here, take a look at this."
The contents of the mysterious scroll, detailing the ritual of apotheosis, plunged the followers into silence. It concerned their two lords; to say they were not invested would be impossible.
One was a Blood Knight.
The other, of the Redmane Army.
In a sense, their performance before the Lord of Cinder also represented the tutelage of their deceased kings.
"To dare use Lord Mohg's remains as a vessel for a king's soul... Lord Miquella surely never intended this. It is a disgrace. My lord, this is far too perverse."
"At least he lost fair and square. The Lord of Blood's performance did not dishonor the name of a Shardbearer."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. It is only through your help that I have learned the truth. However, this matter is despicable. Unfortunately, I am but a weak and decrepit old soldier, no longer qualified to be conceited... after all, I've experienced it firsthand."
"What? You've fought Miquella?"
"It is not worth mentioning. You already know the outcome. I only managed to land a single blow."
"Trina's separation was likely also related to you. Although it was part of Miquella's plan, he at least didn't have complete control... You did well, Lord Ansbach."
"Regrettably, no matter how much I hone my skills, I cannot deal with an existence of that caliber."
His voice was filled with sorrow.
Despite his words, Ansbach had not lost his spirit. A will for vengeance ignited within him; he could not let this stand.
Mohg, as a Shardbearer, had met a worthy end falling in battle against Frieren. He should not be subjected to such desecration. As the foremost Blood Knight, Ansbach could not tolerate it.
"What are your thoughts, Lady Freyja?"
Ansbach posed the question, while Frieren remained silent, for she already knew the answer:
"The festival of combat is over. The General's soul has met an honorable end... To summon his soul once more, this is excellent. He will be thrown into a new battle."
"An endless battle, a battle of scorching heat—thanks to your investigation, I no longer hesitate."
"As expected of the Redmanes. You have your own principles to uphold."
Although their allegiances were now clear, Ansbach did not withhold his praise, even if their understanding of their respective lords differed.
Speechless.
Frieren was certain the great Starscourge General would not have liked this outcome. When he departed, he had told his opponent and his sister of his cherished wish for Miquella, yet his own subordinate had misunderstood. Radahn, look at the soldiers you've trained.
The Redmane warrior, feeling nothing was amiss, said with great anticipation, "Let us meet again on the battlefield."
"Ansbach, besides your bow, I wish to be guided by your scythe as well."
"Your Majesty, I wish to see how much stronger you've become since defeating the General. Now, only you can stand against the promised king. I was captivated by Lord Miquella's charm and have decided to fight for the gentle world he promised. Your Majesty, please accept this as well."
Unexpectedly, Freyja presented her with a shield:
[Golden Lion Shield]
[A shield crafted in the image of the Golden Lion.]
[Its thick, dense mane expands and stands on end, presenting an intimidating visage.]
[In the early days of General Radahn's personal army, it is said this was bestowed upon his most exceptionally valiant warriors.]
[Weapon Skill - Howling Impact]
[A skill where the Golden Lion lets out a howl as the shield is raised, then directly shoves forward in a defensive stance. It is effective over a wide area for pushing enemies or breaking their balance.]
In a way, this gift represented a farewell. After the Redmanes disbanded, everyone went their separate ways. Now, Freyja had made her choice.
Frieren nodded and said, "Thank you. I will take good care of it."
"I'll be on my way, then."
With that, she waved and departed, while Ansbach beside her also prepared to set off.
"Is Your Majesty heading to the Rauh Ruins?"
"No, I have something to discuss with Messmer before that. Let us meet again at the Spiral Tower of the Hornsent."
Before the door to the dark chamber.
The moment Frieren lit the Site of Grace, an abyssal pressure emanated from the room. He had been waiting a long time, anticipating his guest's arrival.
"This is the magic of the Omen!" the Mimic Tear murmured, its voice grave.
It was not just the unique flame tainted by the Omen, but also the bloodlust of slaughter forged by Messmer himself. A veteran of countless battles, the warrior who annihilated the Hornsent armies in the Land of Shadow was the real deal.
The battlefields he had faced were no less intense than the Shattering.
Moreover, several secret campaigns in the Land of Shadow had previously been entrusted to Messmer. To be held in high esteem by Marika meant more training and greater strength.
"I suppose big brother has no intention of hearing us out first," Melina sighed with regret.
"You two, stay back."
As her words faded, Frieren strode forward and pushed open the great doors.
At first, the great hall before her was dark. As she walked, candles ignited one by one, their faint glow illuminating the entire space, which was decorated like a meditation chamber—vast and silent.
At the highest point above the candelabras hung a swath of silk, upon which sat a tall, slender man in red robes, wearing an imperial crown.
The red serpent at his side was the first to greet her, hissing, its eyes mesmerizing and soul-piercing.
"Discourteous interloper, Frieren."
"So, you are the Tarnished, summoned across the sea. Mother, did you truly entrust the duty of a king... to one without light?"
Messmer stood up. Even though he had long heard of the Lord of Cinder's great renown, seeing her in person was still difficult to believe.
How could eyes without Grace, Demi-Human features, and three Great Runes coexist in one being?
Why?
His questioning gaze swept past the silver-haired girl, pausing for a moment on Melina's worried face.
What a complicated group. His sister was deeply entangled with them as well.
"Whether you accept it or not, I will mend the Lands Between, my way. A complete Elden Ring."
Frieren's reply was firm and decisive.
"Indeed. Even so, my mission remains." A black mass rose in Messmer's right hand, which then ignited into a blazing flame as he spoke coldly, "To those untouched by the Grace of Gold, I bring death. Be consumed by the fire of Messmer!"
Arguments would yield no results. Only victory could interpret one's ideals.
"Big brother, Frieren, is there truly no possibility for dialogue? Must we fight like this?"
Neither responded, merely staring at one another, their killing intents crossing. The murderous aura was palpable; this would not end without a true clash of steel.
Melina watched, her face etched with worry, not knowing how to intervene.
She had long been prepared, knowing a battle was inevitable, but witnessing it firsthand still made her break out in a cold sweat. No matter who was injured, she would not be at ease, yet she was powerless to stop it.
However, before she could finish, the other one pulled her to a safe distance, actively avoiding the center of the conflict.
"We can't stop them. Setting aside the difference in power, this is a final gamble by Messmer, the loyalist of the past Golden Order, representing the fate of the dynasty."
"Mother, on the other hand, represents the Law of the Stars and must crush all other paths to become the sole ruler. If the commander of the holy war loses, even Godfrey's return might not be enough to rebuild the dynasty."
"The Tarnished faded for lack of Grace, and the Golden Dynasty has long lost its golden glory. All that remains in the Land of Shadow is the last of its lingering strength."
Having said its piece, the Mimic Tear did not hold Melina back any further.
If she were truly to throw herself in to stop them, the two would certainly cease their fight, but it was better to have it out now.
Understanding this, Melina fell silent.
Whoosh!
In the center of the candlelit arena, the two had already unleashed their auras, clashing with one another. Both were top-tier demigods, and more than that, seasoned veterans forged in countless battles. They recognized the danger in each other at a glance.
Messmer held a spear in one hand, the other entwined with a red python spitting tongues of fire.
Frieren held Lusat's Staff in one hand and the Dark Moon Greatsword in the other.
Ordinarily, for a battle of this caliber, she would have dual-wielded staves. Those familiar with her immediately realized she intended to control the scale of destruction.
If she used two staves, the baseline for her damage output would be too high. With the two catalysts resonating, it would be difficult to avoid collateral damage.
Having a melee weapon made control easier, but could she afford to be so bold against Messmer? Was it not too dangerous?
The spear thrust out.
The greatsword parried.
But in the next moment, Frieren saw Messmer's spear tremble and shatter into a sky of glittering stars, its sharp points blanketing her.
—Miriam's Vanishing!
Teleporting to the other side, a few silver strands of her hair drifted down. Such a fast spear, so sharp!
More importantly, his martial prowess was so high she almost couldn't react. To wield a spear to such a degree was a clear testament to his strength.
Messmer then thrust his spear again, this time extended by the coiling serpent at his side, granting it even greater reach. Even the prepared Frieren frowned; this was difficult to predict.
Clang!
Sparks flew from the parry, and she simultaneously unleashed a volley of Collapsing Stars.
However, the serpent's body coiled around Messmer trembled once, actively releasing a wisp of snake-fire that shattered the glintstones, intercepting them all.
Both offensive and defensive, immovable as a mountain.
In just a simple exchange, the commander of the holy war demonstrated exquisite skill and a solid foundation.
Unlike the Shardbearers Frieren had fought—Rennala, Godrick, and Mohg, all long out of practice—or the mentally unstable and severely wounded Radahn, this was a demigod who had been a seasoned warrior from an early age, emerging victorious from a holy war in his prime.
Steeped in ancient power for years, his strength had only grown.
"Then let's trade blows."
Frieren stepped on the rushing wind. It was not the offensive Storm Stomp, but a force that propelled her body forward like an arrow. In an instant, the moonlit wave of the Dark Moon Greatsword was upon him, a move that caught even Messmer by surprise.
However, he immediately swept his spear shaft to intercept it, blocking with a crisp sound. Frost and flame, each holding their ground, scattered as steam.
The constantly stirred-up storm gradually blurred their vision, but only third-rate fighters rely on sight. The two masters of combat continued their assault without the slightest hesitation.
Clang. Clang!
Greatsword and spear clashed continuously, interspersed with strikes from Carian Slicer and Carian Piercer.
Finally, in a moment of carelessness, a wound was opened on Messmer's cheek by the lunar magic. Unfortunately, before the energy could penetrate, it was dispelled by flame. A physique like his could not be easily wounded.
"I am familiar with all of Caria's sorceries. Such petty tricks are useless."
Across from him, Frieren's armor was covered in scorch marks, and her skin bore traces of burns. She appeared to be in a sorrier state.
Her staff actively served to vary her attacks, at times lengthening, at times growing larger. An ordinary person would be overwhelmed, but it posed no threat to Messmer.
He thrust his spear again—
However, this time, the silver-haired girl seemed to predict it, stomping down forcefully and trapping the spearhead under her foot.
"What? You saw it!"
"Because I've grown accustomed to your spearmanship."
Frieren used the Weapon Skill Storm Stomp to firmly pin Messmer's spear. Its most dangerous point was now beneath her foot, setting up a fierce assault.
But she didn't rush.
Taking advantage of her small frame, she lightly leaped onto the spear shaft to close the distance.
But how could a top-tier demigod miss such an opportunity? He was engulfed in serpentine flames! A move sufficient to burn an enemy to ashes.
Yet in mid-air, thunder, gales, and even frost suddenly swirled.
The Hornsent's Spirit-Calling Art, the Divine Beast's Lion Dance!
At this moment, Frieren was doing far more than simply using magic; she integrated it into her fighting techniques, each movement accompanied by the release of a Weapon Skill.
In his urgency, Messmer quickly defended himself, but the scales of his companion serpent flew off, drawing blood. He could not parry.
Thump!
He kicked the spearhead embedded in the ground, using his full body weight to flex the shaft into an arc. It wasn't a swing but a spring-loaded release, making it faster, easily meeting the silver-haired girl attacking from above.
Lion's Claw!
The first slash of the Dark Moon Greatsword knocked back the spear; after all, it was a hasty response from Messmer, lacking force.
The second slash struck him squarely, sending him stumbling back.
However, it wasn't so simple. Almost simultaneously, a red serpent grazed past Frieren's side armor, tearing through her defense and ripping away a piece of flesh along with a fiery omen. This prevented her from pursuing, and she landed steadily on the ground to regroup.
Both of their breaths quickened.
"...The frost power of the Dark Moon Greatsword? Not bad. The Carian Royal Family has chosen a powerful king. You have what it takes to challenge the throne."
"If you can defeat me and obtain half of the Great Runes, perhaps you could also try to become the Elden Lord."
"I have no interest."
"It is because you have not yet accepted your own identity. Otherwise, you would be even stronger."
Hearing this, Messmer grunted coldly and did not reply, raising his spear to attack again. Frieren met his charge without yielding. For a time, the sounds of clashing metal exploded endlessly, and the intertwining sparks filled the space.
Even Melina and the Mimic Tear, standing at a distance, felt the wind cut like knives.
These two had no intention of holding back, their minds set on endless combat.
Until now, neither had even resorted to sorcery or incantations; it was a pure contest of martial arts, a test of fundamentals. The slightest inferiority in skill would result in immediate humiliation.
Their level of combat had already surpassed most demigods, combining skill with a small amount of magic.
She herself would not last long.
Melina murmured, "Big brother will be getting serious soon. The serpent flame is growing more active. He will not hesitate to use the power of blasphemy against a strong opponent."
"Mother is very familiar with flame-based abilities. Let's trust in her."
The Mimic Tear's trust was unconditional from beginning to end. Only a Tear that had accepted that sliver of the First Flame and the power of the Outer Gods could understand Frieren's terrifying nature. The power that reshaped its body was of an exceedingly high order.
One who could master it must be incomparably strong.
In fact, Messmer's fierce assault had so far only resulted in a stalemate. Both were wounded, but not enough to affect their combat prowess, so the conflict was bound to escalate further.
Even one as mighty as the commander of the holy war should have realized by now that Frieren was an extraordinary existence, far surpassing any enemy he had faced before.
A foe he would have struggled to find even in ancient times.
A trace of unconcealable astonishment always lingered in his eyes. Why were the combat skills of a Lord of Cinder renowned for magic so formidable?
He had intended to press his advantage in this area, but to his surprise, Frieren was also a master, preventing several of his offensive tempos from taking shape. Dragging it out further was meaningless; he would have to use the serpent flame.
With this thought, he leaped into the air, a massive fireball igniting in his hand as he smashed it down.
Boom!
Crimson flames splashed out like a flood, sweeping in all directions, unleashing super-heated energy that was unstoppable, causing all the candles to burn with red flames.
She was blown back!
Messmer looked up to see Frieren with the Wings of the Crucible Aspects sprouting from her back, followed by her staff gathering energy—
A Dark Moon, accelerated by gravity, came hurtling down.
The frigid pressure had already locked onto its target. He knew full well the power of this Carian spell. If it hit, entering a state of reduced magic resistance against a sorcerer would be leaving himself wide open.
His spear thrust out, wrapped in a surging vortex of flame. In an instant, ice and fire clashed.
The sharp spearhead shattered the icy-white crescent moon. This was something Frieren hadn't expected; the serpent flame was strong enough to interfere with magic.
Then let's try again.
This time, it was a Full Moon plus a Dark Moon, two spheres of light rumbling down. Seeing the situation was dire, Messmer soared into the air, a single thrust piercing the right Wing of the Crucible Aspect, though he himself was coated in a layer of frost.
Fortunately, it wasn't enough to reduce his magic resistance, and it stopped the enemy's flight, giving him a moment to breathe.
Frieren, who was halfway down, was pulled back by a gravity orb!
Instead of falling, she rose to a position where Messmer could not immediately retaliate. Now was the time to cast a swift spell that could paralyze the enemy:
Lightning Spear!
The entire Shadow Keep flashed with lightning!
The electrical charge accumulated in the dark clouds resonated with the magic, connecting heaven and earth. The lightning illuminated the walls of Shadow Keep.
Soldiers on patrol exchanged glances, following the sound to see thunder rolling in the sky. Was this a natural thunderstorm?
They weren't sure. But why did they feel an inner turmoil? Was it because they still hadn't found the Lord of Cinder?
The battle inside the dark chamber, however, had reached a fever pitch. Struck by the lightning, Messmer's body was paralyzed.
However, he immediately used his magic to restore strength to one arm, planting his spear into the wall to keep from falling. The area below, now covered in frost from the repeated lunar magic, was fast becoming Frieren's home turf.
She was unleashing Shard Spiral and Ancient Death Rancor, a dark mass of tracking projectiles, each capable of slowing him down.
The strongest sorcerer in the Lands Between was demonstrating her battlefield dominance.
But it's not enough.
Messmer twirled his spear like a command flag, whipping up a towering inferno. A flaming serpent tornado lunged forth as he simultaneously dove down towards his target.
At the same time, he too flew into the fray, arriving the instant the frost melted.
Directly below, Frieren first used Bloodhound's Step to evade the fire tornado, then switched her melee weapon to a rapier and even briefly charged an attack. The next moment, a flurry of slashes erupted!
Bang!
The clash of weapons was a draw, but Messmer, with the advantage of height and superior strength, blasted her away.
His force was skillfully applied; a light leap was all it took. A perfect blend of hard and soft, power and control. Even the battle-hardened Frieren was caught off guard by the blow, but she immediately reacted.
She tucked and rolled on the ground, then put away her staff with her right hand, using her empty hand to push off the floor and pivot back to face her formidable foe.
Messmer's spear was already at her throat.
At this distance, any counter was too slow. She could either use Endure to tank the hit, or rely on her agility—
Waterfowl Dance!
At the last possible second, the rapier swung up, its white sword-light using softness to overcome strength.
____
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