In the corner of the chamber, Lucian caught sight of Blaidd leaning wearily against a wall.
Blaidd had taken off his cloak and now wore only his close-fitting black armor. His once thick, silvery fur was drenched, plastered flat against his body, making him look visibly smaller. Even his usually sharp, wolfish head now looked rather comical—his long muzzle made it resemble the shape of a bicycle seat.
He was completely soaked, dripping water onto the stone floor, the very image of a drenched mutt.
Beside him lay a massive "ice stick". Upon a closer look at the hilt, Lucian realized it was actually Blaidd's Royal Greatsword.
The Royal Greatsword shimmered faintly with a chilling aura, constantly exuding cold mist. For a man who had clearly just fallen into water, that icy magic must have been unbearable.
Wrapped tightly around the blade was Blaidd's heavy fur cloak, now frozen solid against it.
When Lucian leapt down into the room, Blaidd noticed him immediately and greeted him awkwardly.
"Ah… Lord Lucian, you're here too."
Lucian nodded and walked over, extending a hand as he began channeling the power of sunlight.
"What happened?" he asked, his tone casual. "You fell into the water?"
Blaidd raised his head, eyes darting uncertainly. His voice held a hint of embarrassment.
"Uh—yes. I, uh, got ambushed… lost my footing and was knocked down."
Lucian suppressed a laugh as he helped dry the soaked wolf knight with sunlight.
He noticed that here, the power of sunlight seemed slightly weakened, though not enough to cause any trouble.
"Knocked down, huh? Must've been quite an opponent then," Lucian remarked.
Blaidd scratched the side of his nose awkwardly.
"It really was. It looked a bit like Astel—the one we met before, but also not quite the same. This one moved on all fours like a beast. But its head… I'm certain it was identical to Astel's. I wouldn't mistake that face."
Lucian nodded, then explained,
"That must have been one of Astel's juvenile forms. Given time to mature, it eventually takes the shape of the one you saw on the dunes."
"By the way," Lucian continued with mild surprise, "you came from Redmane Castle and already reached here in just a few days? That's impressive."
Since Blaidd couldn't use Sites of Grace for fast travel like the Tarnished, he must have run all the way. To make it here that fast… his endurance was remarkable.
"I take some pride in my legs," Blaidd said with a modest grin. "Though I did find a shortcut, otherwise I wouldn't have made it so quickly."
He began recounting his journey after leaving Redmane Castle.
As a beast of shadow, Blaidd's agility was formidable. He had run nearly nonstop until he reached a cliffside—only to realize he had taken the wrong path again.
However, from that cliff, he spotted Limgrave far below.
Though his sense of direction could be questionable, Blaidd easily recognized the familiar Mistwood where he had spent much of his time before.
He figured changing routes would waste time, so instead he decided to climb down the cliff itself—it didn't look impossibly steep.
Somehow, he made it down safely and soon found himself near the Mistwood, eventually reaching the meteor crater.
After descending through the weightless zone there, he entered Nokron, the Eternal City.
But within the endless ruins, Blaidd lost his bearings once more.
Finally, he spotted a faint light in the distance and chose to follow it.
Unlike Lucian, who had explored beneath the city's structures, Blaidd had instead leapt across rooftops, traveling from building to building.
Unfortunately, as he crossed one rooftop, a Fallingstar Beast suddenly lunged out from nowhere and rammed into him.
The impact sent him flying off the building and straight down.
Even recalling it now, Blaidd's ears flattened slightly—he was still shaken.
At that moment, he thought he was done for.
He hadn't known there was water below. If it had been an abyss instead, he would've been smashed to pieces.
In the water, the beast that had struck him didn't pursue.
As Blaidd swam along the building edges, he saw more Astel-like creatures hanging upside down, so he decided against climbing ashore. Instead, he swam all the way through the water, following the same direction he had been heading before.
That choice helped him avoid countless battles and reach this point safely—though at the cost of great discomfort.
His Royal Greatsword constantly emanated cold magic, and the icy water made his body ache. For someone who hated the cold, it had been pure torture.
Now, finally on land, he had barely recovered.
After listening to Blaidd's full account, Lucian sighed softly.
This wolf and his sense of direction… what was wrong with him?
Still, even if he always stumbled into trouble, he somehow managed to reach his destination in the end.
"I see…" Lucian murmured with a small smile. "Well, since we've met down here, we might as well continue together."
Blaidd nodded in agreement.
He had no reason to act alone—what mattered was finding the Fingerslayer Blade that Ranni had sent him to retrieve. The rest didn't matter.
Together, they looked down through the hollowed floors of the building.
The structure's interior was heavily damaged—floors shattered layer by layer, exposing the levels beneath.
On one of the lower floors, a bright, white flame flickered.
Lucian peered closer and found its source: a torch held by one of the strange figures wandering below.
Likely remnants of the enslaved Stormhawk Soldiers, once part of the armies that explored Nokron.
Following the light downward would surely lead them in the right direction.
When Blaidd had finally rewrapped his frozen cloak and slung the greatsword over his back, the two leapt down from the structure, descending layer by layer.
Soon, they reached the floor where the pale torches glowed.
There, Lucian saw the torchbearers clearly—warped remnants of the Fallen Hawks Soldiers.
Once servants of the Storm King, these enslaved soldiers had been sent to explore the "Eternal City" below… and had never returned.
Now, their forms were barely human.
Their clothes were long gone; their pale, emaciated bodies wandered naked, each clutching a weapon or a torch of ghostly flame.
Their skin had thinned grotesquely—almost translucent near the extremities, revealing the raw, red texture of muscle and sinew beneath.
Their hollow eyes were devoid of life, of reason—souls emptied by centuries underground.
In truth, Lucian thought they looked much like the feral thralls one might see in vampire stories—mindless, half-dead servants.
But these were not undead. They had once been living men of the Lands Between, enslaved soldiers under a forgotten Storm King.
Some unknown power had corrupted them here in Nokron, twisting them into this state.
Deprived of food, stripped of warmth, they had burned the bones of their dead comrades to ignite the cold, ghostly flame that now guided them.
Lucian tried to reach them through the storm.
Once, the storm-borne soldiers of Stormveil had lost their sanity too—but the power of the winds still made them recognize their kin.
Yet these ones did not respond.
Whether through oblivion or deep resentment toward those who left them to die, they turned on Lucian and Blaidd instead, weapons raised.
From afar, others hurled Ghostflame Torches toward them.
It was clear, they had lost all capacity for reason.
Lucian summoned the storm and, with quiet resolve, granted them release.
When the last of the lost soldiers fell silent, he paused to study the surroundings.
These creatures only appeared from this level onward—none were above.
It suggested they had entered from somewhere else… perhaps a hidden passage large enough for an entire force.
Lucian began searching the area and, guided by a faint breeze, soon discovered a collapsed section buried under rubble and stone.
Behind it, a narrow current of air whispered through the cracks—there was a passage beyond.
Drawing the Sword of Night and Flame, Lucian aimed at the obstruction and unleashed the Comet Azur beam.
The torrent of magic shattered the debris in an instant, reopening the tunnel.
Sure enough, a rocky corridor extended beyond.
He glanced inside but did not proceed; he was still pressed for time, his goal being the Night's Sacred Ground.
This building, embedded deep within the bedrock, differed from the other residential ruins—the tunnel clearly carved through the rock itself.
Perhaps above this place stood one of Limgrave's mountain ridges.
The Stormhawk Legion must have descended from there long ago.
But after they entered, the tunnel had collapsed completely, trapping them here forever.
Lucian could only guess at the time of their descent, but since no rescue ever came, Stormveil must have already been at war with Godfrey's army.
With no escape, they perished—then changed into the things he had just slain.
Lucian memorized the location. One day, he would return to excavate it properly.
From here, future scholars could enter Nokron for research and excavation.
Lucian and Blaidd moved onward, descending a narrow staircase into a vast hall.
This hall was grander than any they had seen so far—its design ornate, its decorations miraculously preserved.
From the hall's far side, they stepped into an open courtyard.
But there was no time to admire the beauty of the undamaged structures. The pale soldiers surged toward them from every direction.
Lucian and Blaidd divided their focus, cutting through the horde with ease.
When the last of the mutated soldiers fell, Lucian approached the pavilion at the center of the courtyard.
There lay a corpse, clutching a faintly glowing object in its withered hand.
Lucian remembered—there should be a Ghost-Glovewort Picker's Bell Bearing [1] in this area. Could this be it?
He picked up the glowing orb. It was a small, rough sphere covered in irregular lines, wrapped in a faint magical force.
Yes—it was indeed a Bell Bearing.
Lucian poured a bit of magic into it, and the sphere began to respond.
After a moment, the Bell Bearing cracked open—spilling dozens of Ghost Gloveworts onto the ground.
They varied in size, most being small, signifying lower grades.
There were over twenty of the first to third tiers, a dozen of the fourth and fifth, and just one each of the sixth and seventh.
Over forty in total—everything the Bell Bearing had contained.
Then, as the light faded, the Bell Bearing crumbled into dust.
Lucian gathered all the Gloveworts and stored them in his spatial disk.
So in reality, Bell Bearings were quite different from how they worked in the game, they were more like one-time storage tools created through special means.
Unfortunately, they couldn't be used infinitely for purchases like in the game.
But thinking about it, that made sense—those had been pure game mechanics, after all.
After stowing the Gloveworts, Lucian continued exploring the courtyard.
Before long, he discovered the corpse of a Silver Tear within the right-hand building.
Unlike the ones he had fought before, this one had a solid silver core nestled within its liquefied remains.
He picked it up—the core resembled an embryo, with several tube-like tendrils extending from it.
A Larval Tear—an essential catalyst for the Rebirth Ritual.
Lucian stored it carefully within his spatial disk, then discovered another treasure nearby—a Spirit Ash.
It was the ashes of the Greatshield Soldiers, capable of summoning spectral warriors of the Stormhawk Legion wielding massive tower shields.
They had been the frontline defenders of their army, shielding their comrades and drawing enemy fire.
Under their steadfast protection, the rest could attack freely.
Even in the game, they were among the strongest tank summons—indispensable for fragile sorcerers seeking safety behind their unyielding walls.
Many had conquered mighty foes with the aid of those steadfast warriors.
Satisfied, Lucian stowed the ashes away.
He checked the courtyard thoroughly—nothing else remained. Even the room on the left, locked in the game, he forcefully pried open, only to find it empty.
Then, alongside Blaidd, he passed through the gate and began descending the narrow stairway that led deeper below.