Shortly before dawn the following day, Gawain left Melina and Ashmi inside the gaol and set out alone under the moonlight toward Castle Ensis.
Before reaching the great bridge, he followed his map and passed through a settlement known as the Village of the Infirmed.
After stowing away the Revered Spirit Ash and Scadutree Fragments he had just found, Gawain frowned at the hellish landscape before him. The ruins of houses, scorched by fire, were piled high with various deformed bodies—identical to the "Man-Flies" he had seen in Belurat.
This village seemed to have once been a place for tending to those infected with disease. However, judging by the Man-Flies crawling about in small groups, the treatment had clearly not been effective.
Seeing such a scene, he didn't know what to say. It appeared that Hornsent culture was not only cruel to outsiders but similarly ruthless toward their own kin.
After granting peace to the Man-Flies crawling across the ground, Gawain suddenly noticed a cluster of glowing gravestones in the grass. In the center of these graves sat a Larval Tear.
He picked it up and gave it a squeeze. He realized that while its essence was similar to the artificial Larval Tears created by the Nox—existing somewhere between matter and soul—this one was "wild."
It seemed that only in a place like the Land of Shadow, where the convergence of death blurred the boundaries between life and the beyond, could such a miraculous phenomenon occur.
Leaving the Village of the Infirmed, Gawain mounted his horse and rode to the cliffside, observing the activity on the opposite bank.
It had to be said that Castle Ensis lived up to its reputation as one of the most vital passes in the Land of Shadow. The Crusade's defenses on the far bank were formidable. Forcing his way through would take some effort.
After a moment of thought, he slung the Dark Moon Greatsword over his back and conjured a localized storm around himself—one powerful enough to deflect heavy bolts. He drank a pre-mixed Ironjar Aromatic and decided he couldn't care less about subtlety; he would charge straight through.
When the morning light finally pierced the morning mist, the vanguard at Castle Ensis began to emerge from their tents. This Crusade had dragged on for far too long—so long that even the sturdiest warriors had a layer of unshakable numbness clouded in their eyes.
The Erdtree priests were still preaching loudly, their voices strained as they tried to maintain a fever pitch to bolster the soldiers who could no longer see even a glimmer of Grace. Yet, the knuckles of the hands gripping their bibles were white; even their own rock-solid faith was fluttering in the wind like a falling leaf.
Perfumers gathered in small groups at the corners of the camp, their transparent, aged bottles reflecting the soft morning light. Some leaned over to apply cooling aromatics to the wounded, their fingertips moving gently as if afraid of shattering the wounds. Others looked down as they mixed medicine, the rustling sound of pestles grinding petals and herbs providing a rare sign of life in the deathly quiet camp—yet it also sounded like a silent countdown to the next meaningless slaughter.
Suddenly, a savage roar from a Troll shattered the camp's silence. A Troll Knight, who had been standing watch at a high vantage point, suddenly straightened his back, his bell-like eyes locking onto something in the distance.
A mounted figure was breaking through the morning mist, charging toward them. He possessed none of the twisted horns characteristic of the Hornsent, nor did he wear the familiar armor of an allied unit.
The surrounding silence was instantly gouged open by a furious shout. There was no panicked commotion in the camp; only the crisp clatter of armor and the dull crunch of boots on gravel. Countless Crusade soldiers moved as if pulled by invisible threads, returning to combat positions etched into their very souls. Their sword-hands remained steady as rocks, waiting only for the figure to draw closer.
The massive sword-glint that had appeared in the heart of Belurat a few days ago had put all the Crusade forces in Castle Ensis on high alert, including the noble Twin Moon Knight. However, they had been ordered to capture the intruder alive if possible.
Still, the sight of someone charging so brazenly left all the soldiers privately stunned. The sheer audacity was staggering. Their military formations, when fully prepared, were capable of hunting a Divine Beast Dancing Lion.
Gawain looked at the massive ballistae and trebuchets aimed at him and took a deep breath. This felt remarkably similar to forcing his way into Redmane Castle back in the game.
But this time, the quantity and quality of the defenders across the bridge were several levels higher than the exhausted Redmane army. The fire they used was the dark-hued Messmer's Flame, which was far more potent than the second-hand Giant's Flame Radahn had learned from the Fire Monks.
Hooves crushed the frost on the bridge's surface. Gawain leaned low over Torrent's neck to minimize his hit profile. Facing the onslaught, Torrent grew fierce, bursting forth with unprecedented speed.
As they thundered past the third bridge pillar, the heavy ballistae on the far bank let out a dull thud. Over a dozen massive bolts wreathed in Messmer's Flame tore through the morning mist. Their tips were red as if quenched in blood, and the sparks from their fletching trailed behind them like flaming chains. A single hit would likely shoot a hole straight through a Runebear.
Gawain yanked the reins hard, his left hand pressing against the pommel. In an instant, the wind on the bridge became violent, the once-straight air currents twisting into a vortex as if gripped by an invisible hand.
The fire bolts stalled mid-air, their shafts vibrating violently as they were knocked off course. Several struck the stone railings and plummeted, the fireballs hitting the river surface and erupting into clouds of hissing white mist.
"Keep going, just a little further."
Gawain patted Torrent's flank and straightened his body. He raised his right hand, condensing fine ice shards. Immediately following the ballistae, the trebuchets tightened their ropes, and blackened stones wreathed in Messmer's Flame came screaming toward him.
He waved his hand at the oncoming fireballs. A wall of ice suddenly condensed in mid-air—not a heavy barrier, for an ice wall capable of stopping such impact couldn't be made in a hurry. Instead, he created ten thousand ice blades as thin as cicada wings.
The moment the firestones slammed into the ice array, the blades exploded into mist. The cold, laden with moisture, lunged at the flames. With a "hiss," the dark flames fell like snuffed candlewicks, leaving only wisps of blue smoke.
Of course, this was only a temporary measure. Messmer's Flame was not something that could be extinguished so easily. But this response successfully bought precious time; Gawain was able to pull away before the stones could undergo a violent explosion.
Seeing that he was close enough, Torrent reared up, his front hooves striking a stone pedestal in the middle of the bridge. With an agile double-jump, he flew through the air and then instantly vanished.
Gawain used the momentum to stand tall. A storm swirled around him into a cyclone, gathering the lingering sparks in the air and instantly turning into a fire tornado.
The second wave of giant bolts was either incinerated by this powerful storm or pushed backward by the air currents, pinning themselves into the ballistae on the far bank. The crisp sound of snapping strings mingled with the startled cries of the enemy.
With that done, he rolled and drew the Dark Moon Greatsword from his back. He was now very close to the bridgehead. He could even see the Crusade soldiers snarling as they drew their weapons—among them were even sorcerers wearing Glintstone Crowns, all buffed with a red Warcry-type aura.
"Sigh, one after another, they really are all 'mini-Godfreys.' They've even led those Carian sorcerers astray."
Pushing aside his strange thoughts, his gaze darkened. He decided to cool down these hot-headed Crusaders. He was just here to visit family; he didn't want things to get truly ugly.
Taking a deep breath, he parted his lips. A sudden gush of frigid air, laden with frost and snow, erupted as the sleeping power of the Dark Moon Greatsword was awakened.
A ghostly blue chill spread like a silent tide. Wherever it passed, the moisture in the air instantly condensed into fine ice shards. The stone bridge beneath his feet first developed a layer of white frost, then spiderweb-like cracks of ice spread at a visible speed. The entire bridge surface froze into a cold, shimmering blue crystal. Even the wind passing under the bridge carried the sound of fine ice cracking.
The enemy had clearly not expected this turn of events. The fervor on the soldiers' faces dimmed slightly. However, the ranged units in the rear didn't stop. Another crimson arc traced across the sky—another firestone the size of half a man, screaming toward him with rolling heatwaves.
This time, he didn't move an inch. He didn't even look up at the firestone. His hand gripping the Dark Moon Greatsword lowered slightly, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
A moment later, with a flick of his wrist, the blade traced a sharp upward arc, trailing a ghostly blue light. There was no world-shaking sound, only a condensed, blade-like wave of cold energy tearing through the air. The edges of the wave shimmered with the pale blue light unique to the Dark Moon. For the first time, the power of the Dark Moon appeared in the Land of Shadow.
The moment hot met cold, the flames on the surface of the stone shrank violently. Then, the hard rock split in two as silently as a knife through tofu. The scorching fragments fell toward the bridge, striking the blue ice crystals with a "crunching" sound before scattering into fine, smoking debris.
The frost wave, imbued with Dark Moon magic, did not slow down in the slightest. Like an endless trail of ghostly blue light, it moved so fast that one barely had time to blink. In an instant, it swept across the battlefield and slammed into the siege array at the rear.
With a dull THOOM, a ballista carriage that was about to fire, along with the massive trebuchet behind it, was cleaved in two as if by an invisible giant blade. A thick layer of blue ice instantly formed at the cut. Parts and timber mingled with ice shards as they crumbled, turning into two heaps of scrap metal in an instant.
The surrounding enemies froze, their very breath seemingly chilled by the pervasive frost.
Gawain had controlled his power well. Aside from two or three unlucky souls near the line of attack who were knocked over with minor frostbite, there were no additional casualties. This was a simple display of force, intended to make these hot-headed Crusaders listen to reason.
Sure enough, after this strike, the attacks from the opposite camp ceased. He sheathed the Dark Moon Greatsword on his back and slowly crossed the bridgehead, arriving at the gatehouse before Castle Ensis.
Ignoring the Crusade soldiers eyeing him like hawks, he gently pressed the ring on his finger and looked at the Troll Knight in Carian attire standing before him.
"I wish to see Rellana, the Twin Moon Knight. Could someone please lead the way?"
The Troll Knight took two steps back. A sorcerer wearing a Glintstone Crown emerged from behind him. Staring at the greatsword on Gawain's back, which was still emitting frost, the sorcerer finally signaled the Crusaders to clear a path.
"Very well. Please, follow me."
As Gawain followed the Glintstone sorcerer into Castle Ensis, the Crusade warriors behind him erupted like a poked beehive.
Some stood on their toes, frowning at the city gate; some gripped their hilts and muttered under their breath; others huddled together, their faces filled with speculation, caution, and even a hint of gossip.
Many of the warriors who followed Rellana were well-acquainted with the traditions of the Carian Royal Family. Especially since her ladyship currently had made zero progress with Messmer, the appearance of a stranger carrying that greatsword was quite... something.
As the wave of gossip grew, two dull thuds rang out, sounding like massive boulders hitting the ground.
Everyone turned to see the Troll Knight standing at the front of the ranks, his heavy iron boots grinding shallow grooves into the stone floor. His scaly eyes swept over the crowd.
The noisy crowd quickly quieted, eager for an answer.
"Who exactly is that Tarnished? Why did Lady Rellana let him into the castle?"
The Troll Knight shrugged. He didn't know what was going on either; his status didn't allow him to make wild guesses. He coughed twice and said:
"I know not who that Tarnished is. I only know that he carries the Dark Moon Greatsword on his back—the weapon Princess Ranni is destined to gift to her consort."
"So, that hunchbacked little girl is the child my brother sired after that... incident?"
"Yes, that's right. Her name is Rya. She's recruiting Recusants for Volcano Manor. It seems she only recently decided to stay at Stormveil Castle for a while."
"Lord Gawain seems to have promised her that he will personally visit Volcano Manor in the future."
Listening to Blaidd's explanation, Ranni nodded. She had either been in a deep slumber or away from the Lands Between; had it not been for Rya's distinctively serpentine way of walking, she might have missed her existence entirely.
"I wonder what my brother is like these days. No matter. I shall go with him to visit later."
Withdrawing her gaze from the window, Ranni looked at Iji, who was curled up and quietly smithing. After finally finding Iji's forge under Blaidd's directionless guidance, Ranni's small trio was finally reunited.
Her return this time was primarily to uncover what had happened after the fall of the Mohgwyn Dynasty, particularly concerning the current status of that terrifying Empyrean, Miquella.
However, upon learning that an entrance to the Land of Shadow was truly hidden there, she couldn't help but let out a soft hum. This was indeed a piece of news worth celebrating.
She was about to say something when the ring on her finger emitted a faint blue light. Beside her, Blaidd's eyes widened.
"Lady Ranni, this is..."
A sharp glint appeared in Ranni's eyes, and a smile unconsciously touched her lips. She pulled on the brim of her wide hat, and a black portal abruptly appeared before her.
"It seems it is time for me to keep my appointment."
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash
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