The arrangements for Asimi were settled. Of course, for safety's sake, she left a fragment of herself within Gawain's body.
Based on currently known intelligence, the Land of Shadow was still in a state of active war. Conflict was inevitable. By having a phantom accompany him, she could not only assist in battle but also maintain a constant link to her true body to share information.
Somewhere within the Land of Shadow, Miquella withdrew his gaze from the Lands Between. Before him stretched the Cerulean Coast; several Horned Warriors had escorted him here.
He could feel Mohg's body being transported to the Land of Shadow by his followers, just as planned. Now, the two greatest obstacles to his godhood had been cleared.
He only needed to cast away the part of himself he found hardest to relinquish to prove his resolve. Once Mohg's corpse arrived, he could return to the tower of Enir-Ilim and, alongside his Hornsent allies, complete the final preparations for the rite.
Miquella gazed silently and tenderly at his slumbering half, St. Trina. His thoughts drifted back to a time long ago.
It was when he first questioned the Golden Order Fundamentalism of his father, unable to find a cure for his sister's rot. That was when he began seeking his own answers.
To build the perfect world of his heart, he had traversed the entire Lands Between in the guise of St. Trina. Using his innate power, he had recruited numerous races to build the Haligtree, attempting to create a gentle world by embracing all life.
But the tragic reality of the long-lasting Shattering had left him disillusioned. Simple inclusion could not solve the problem once and for all.
From that moment, Miquella's philosophy shifted. Since life's independent thought, love, and hate led to perpetual war, he would simply sever those ties. It would be enough for everyone to be immersed in the gentle Law he would create.
To do this, he needed to become a true god, like his mother Marika. He would show his Law to the entire Lands Between. To achieve this, he had to discard his other half—the one representing his "weak" human nature.
When that time came, all life would obey a beautiful authority unconditionally—his enchantment. Even those with blood-feuds would coexist.
Nothing was more meaningful than the continuation of life itself. For the sake of that dreamlike, gentle world, what did it matter if some free will was lost? At least his Law was far more inclusive than his mother's Golden Order.
Every living thing could still have its own faith and pursuits; all he required was for all beings to love a god like him under his enchantment, letting hatred give way to love. He didn't care about the far-flung future; at least it would be better than this broken era of the Shattering.
He recalled the individual he had heard of before entering the Land of Shadow. In fact, during the Festival of Radahn in Caelid, he had personally watched from afar. Only after ensuring the soul of his Promised Consort followed his guidance back to the Land of Shadow did he proceed with the next step of his plan.
From that moment, he knew that person would eventually come to his door. He only needed to wait. This was why he had personally sent guidance to Leda, leading her to provoke a direct conflict with Mohg to open the way.
Once that man witnessed the abandoned things of the Land of Shadow—and the so-called "Crusade" waged by Queen Marika, which possessed not a shred of honor—he would surely understand Miquella's actions. Then, under the joint rule of Miquella and his Promised Consort, that man would become his right hand.
And if he did not understand, it would not matter. Miquella had prepared a nearly imperceptible enchantment on the withered arm specifically for him. The moment he touched the arm, he would be drawn in by Miquella's "gentleness."
A thought suddenly occurred to him, and a shadow of annoyance crossed Miquella's eyes. The "Maiden" accompanying that man was rather troublesome.
With a soft sigh, he pushed that small shadow aside and turned his gaze back to St. Trina—the half he once loved, and still loved, most. Even in her dreams, she tried to stop him from reaching godhood.
Though it was a decision that brought him immense pain, he had to cast away all burdens to become a god.
Gradually, Miquella's expression shifted from tender to a cold, resolute mask. He touched Trina's delicate flowers one last time, leaving behind a cross-mark, and whispered:
"I abandon here my love."
Inside the Mohgwyn Palace, Leda watched as Dryleaf Dane, Redmane Freyja, Moore, Thiollier, and the others answered the call and entered the Land of Shadow. Now, only two people remained for her to wait for—and one of them was...
"Leda! What happened here!? What has become of Lord Mohg?"
She turned to see Ansbach, just returned from his reconnaissance mission. To be honest, she was somewhat glad he had escaped the carnage.
With Miquella's enchantment still active, these people were all trusted comrades in her eyes. But that didn't mean she would tell him everything.
"Ansbach. I am glad to see you alive. As you can see, the Dynasty was breached by an unknown individual, and a violent battle ensued. Unfortunately, the victor was not the Lord you serve. Furthermore, by the time I arrived, the Lord of Blood's body was gone. Whether it was destroyed in the fighting or taken for some other reason, I cannot say."
Ansbach's face, hidden behind his black mask, darkened. While scouting according to Mohg's orders, he had sensed the cataclysmic shift within the Dynasty.
His veteran instincts had kept him from returning via the medal immediately. Such a disturbance could only mean two things: either his Lord had won, or something terrible had happened. In either case, his aging, battle-worn body would have been of little use.
Staring at Leda, Ansbach clenched his fists. What angered him now was not Mohg's defeat itself.
On his way back, he had surveyed the damage. Though he hated to admit it, his Lord had clearly given his all in a fierce battle and lost. Even for Ansbach, it was hard to imagine the kind of power required to turn the entire Dynasty into this state.
He could accept a glorious one-on-one defeat. What he could not accept was Leda's claim that Mohg's corpse had been taken. For the sake of his Lord's dignity, he could not tolerate such a desecration.
"Do you have any clues regarding this? And where is Lord Miquella now?"
"I do not know," Leda replied. "But I believe all the answers you seek lie within the Land of Shadow. Follow Lord Miquella's guidance; there, I believe your doubts will be answered."
The golden light in Ansbach's eyes flickered. The rage filling his heart gradually subsided. He ultimately followed Leda's suggestion; staying in this ruined Dynasty was pointless. Only in the Land of Shadow could he find the truth.
The next day, at the Academy of Raya Lucaria, reconstruction was well underway. The damage from Mohg's sneak attack had been almost entirely repaired, thanks to the influx of Nox survivors and their Silver Tears. Students were attending classes normally again.
Gawain stared at the Amber Egg. Having arranged all his affairs, he had taken the time to check on the Academy. His other purpose was the rebirth ritual currently in progress.
The soul resting inside was none other than Sirris, as they had previously agreed. She would be the first to be reborn in the Lands Between. Gawain wasn't sure if a soul from another world, fundamentally different from local life, could successfully manifest a new body.
To ensure success, Master Sellen was monitoring the process, and several Night Maidens from the Eternal City stood ready to intervene if anything went wrong.
"The soul within the egg is very important to you, isn't it?" Sellen asked. "Can you tell me her identity? In case you haven't returned when she wakes, I should know how to accommodate her."
"Sirris. That is her name. In the past, she was a knight who swore fealty to me—a comrade who helped me overcome countless trials."
A nostalgic smile touched Gawain's lips. He turned to Sellen.
"Once her rebirth is complete, if I haven't returned, let her go to Stormveil. I've already instructed Elsa to begin selecting powerful and loyal warriors. I want to form a new knightly order: the Darkmoon Knights."
Sellen nodded. She could see from his eyes that the "Dark Moon" he spoke of was likely not the same as the Moon Princess's. Still, such a beautiful coincidence might yield unexpected results.
"Rest easy. I shall see to it personally. Since she is my apprentice's knight, I will not neglect her." She paused, remembering something. "By the way... if you meet the Twin Moon Knight, Rellana, in the Land of Shadow, remember to give her my regards. Before she left the Academy, I was just a student, and she looked after me a few times. If you could convince her to return to the Academy, that would be ideal. Perhaps the Queen's mind might recover then?"
"Mmm. I'll keep it in mind. Though I wonder what she'll think of the Dark Moon Greatsword in my hand."
"Don't worry. From what I know, Her Ladyship's 'Carian Sovereignty' takes a moment to charge. As long as you run fast enough, you shouldn't be beaten too badly."
Cough, cough!
Gawain coughed into his hand. That move sounded incredibly powerful; he wondered if he could learn it himself.
"Mmm. Trustworthy advice as always, Master. Well then, I should be going."
"Safe travels."
Waving farewell to Sellen, Gawain stepped out of the Grand Library. A swirl of flame enveloped him, and his armor shifted into the Vagabond Knight set. Melina, standing beside him, did a double-take.
"Is that the armor you wore on your previous journey? It certainly looks like something worn by someone who has traveled for a very long time."
"It's not just looks; it's a fact. I was chased and hunted by all sorts of enemies back then. This set is light and versatile, suitable for all kinds of environments."
Gawain stretched his limbs, feeling as if he were back in the old days.
This wasn't just a sudden whim of nostalgia; it was a calculated decision. In the Lands Between, his usual gear was too identifiable as either belonging to the Storm King or the Carian line. Both were too conspicuous. He didn't want to be mistakenly identified as an ally or enemy of any particular faction on sight. His "classic skin" was the perfect solution.
He looked down at his empty hands and back. "I feel like I'm forgetting something... oh well. Let's go to the Mohgwyn Palace first. I'll fill in the gaps on the way."
Gawain took Melina's hand and teleported into the heart of the Blood Dynasty, walking toward Leda.
Leda had been waiting with increasing anxiety. For the past few days, she had felt as if she were being watched, though she could never find proof. She eventually chalked it up to being oversensitive.
Hearing familiar footsteps outside the ruined temple, she looked up immediately. The person she had been waiting for had arrived.
"Gawain, you're finally... er, your equipment is quite unique."
Having spent time with him, Leda's tone was no longer as formal. She was genuinely surprised by Gawain's new look.
"Thanks for the compliment. This was my gear before I came to the Lands Between. People who knew me back then would call me a true knight. It's not exactly the same as the original, but close enough. I'm ready."
"A true knight? I suppose so. Only a true knight could defeat the Lord of Blood alone. It is a pity I only saw you fight for the first time at the Festival. Looking at your gear now, I can only imagine how... 'distinctive' your combat style must have been."
Gawain felt a twinge of guilt at the flattering praise. If she only knew. She probably thought he was a noble hero, not realizing he was the type of "true knight" who would wear a thrall hood and winged knight armor while buffing a rotten ghru dagger with pine resin.
Still, his current state wasn't much better. As a "knight" who prioritized victory above all else, he had Gael's Crossbow hanging at his waist with plenty of bolts. Slung across his back was a Dragonslayer Greatbow (for hunting Bayle, obviously).
After some intense deliberation over throwables, he had decided against dung pies and opted for poison pots instead. Though, if a fight got desperate enough, he could certainly ensure his opponents got their fill of "snacks."
His empty right hand was ready to cycle through various weapons to animation-cancel his weapon arts. He was fully stocked on all kinds of resins.
Furthermore, after clearing out the Blood Dynasty, he had a staggering amount of runes. With his gear fully reinforced, he felt terrifyingly powerful. His pack contained two fully upgraded God-slaying weapons.
So this is the DLC I didn't get to play before I crossed over, huh? he thought. Once I'm in, I'm going to make sure the locals experience what a 'stat-check' feels like.
Leda paused, then pulled a map with various markers from her chestpiece and handed it over.
"It is a bit crude, but I hope this map helps you. My fellow followers of Lord Miquella have already entered the Land of Shadow. Should you encounter them, I trust they will offer their aid. Come. Touch the withered arm and venture forth. I shall follow shortly. See you on the other side."
Gawain nodded. This wasn't just the typical "hand-fiddling" of an Undead. As he approached the arm, he caught Melina's eye. She understood the signal and grew serious; in her soul-fused state, she could sense the slightest shift in his condition.
The moment he touched the parched arm, a tiny, nearly invisible trace of golden light slithered from the limb and into Gawain's pupils.
Then, he felt himself being sucked in. It was a sensation similar to being pulled into the Painted World—as if passing through a heavy veil.
Land of Shadow, here I come!
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (330 chapter - Ongoing)
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