"The roots of the Erdtree are a hallowed sanctuary! How can we allow a mob of commoners who have forsaken their lineage to desecrate such a place? We must strike with an iron fist!" Klepps glared at Raven. "This is not a question of which proposal is more beneficial; it is a matter of the sanctity of the Golden Order. Prince Raven, you have repeatedly spoken in favor of the Deeproot—what exactly is your objective?"
Raven shot a glance toward the Royalist faction. Immediately, a high-ranking official cleared his throat, preparing to rebuff Klepps, but Godwyn suddenly let out a hearty laugh.
"I believe you are mistaken. I have heard the Deeproot is a place of pleasant beauty, which only proves the Erdtree harbors no ill will toward those dwelling at its feet. While the residents may have sinned by abandoning their original lands, their crimes do not warrant death, nor have they lost their guidance of Grace. If we were to commit mass slaughter beneath the Erdtree's roots, would that not be the true desecration?"
Raven looked over in surprise. He hadn't expected Godwyn to speak up on behalf of the Deeproot.
Godwyn offered a warm, friendly smile to both Raven and Mohg.
"My knowledge of the Deeproot is limited, so I shall refrain from commenting on the specific handling of its affairs. However, barring any new developments, I believe we should follow Prince Raven's advice and resolve this as peacefully as possible."
The members of the Royalist party exchanged looks of bewilderment. They had anticipated that Godwyn would insist the Deeproot residents were rebels, using the issue to strike a blow against their faction. None of them expected the Golden Prince to be so conciliatory; it left them feeling as though they had thrown a heavy punch only to hit thin air.
For the next hour, no further word from Marika emanated from the Grace at the center of the Roundtable. The Finger Reader hidden behind the doors remained as motionless as a stone statue. Thus, the Roundtable Hold meeting drew to a close in a somewhat strange atmosphere. Although the specific details required further deliberation, the general direction was set: the Deeproot was essentially recognized as a part of the Royal Domain.
"Prince Raven, it has been far too long. Why don't we walk a while and catch up?" Godwyn suggested with a smile as they stepped out of the meeting hall.
"I would be honored." Raven slowed his pace to walk side-by-side with Godwyn.
"This past year has been far from peaceful," Godwyn remarked. "Astel fell upon Raya Lucaria, the Third Liurnian War nearly broke out, and the Serpent Cult of Mt. Gelmir has seen a resurgence. I hear the fighting at the volcano is fierce; the rebels are using the terrain to put up a desperate resistance, and King Radagon has yet to make any real progress. Given the circumstances, we cannot afford unrest within the Capital."
"Does Your Highness seek a reconciliation with the Royalist party?"
"I simply hope to clear up past misunderstandings. Could you convey my intentions to them? If they harbor any further grievances, please let me know their requirements," Godwyn said with total sincerity.
"I will pass on your words," Raven replied. "And thank you for your support during the meeting."
"It is I who should thank you. Morgott, Mohg, and I share the same father and mother, yet while I enjoyed the luxuries of the palace, they were forced to struggle for survival in the sewers. Every time I think of it... sigh."
Godwyn let out a heavy sigh and turned to Mohg. "Do you remember me, Mohg? When you and Morgott were small, I used to push you on the swings."
"I'm sorry, I don't recall," Mohg said, scratching his head awkwardly. "Perhaps Morgott remembers..."
"True, you were both so very young then. After you displayed the Aspects of the Crucible, we never saw one another again."
After a long conversation, they eventually reached a crossroads. Godwyn patted Mohg on the back, insisting he would visit the Deeproot as a guest, and his departure felt genuinely bittersweet.
After walking a short distance, Raven looked back. He saw Godwyn still standing at the intersection, watching them leave. He began to wonder if he had truly misjudged Godwyn regarding the Deeproot affair. But if it wasn't Godwyn, then who—
"Listen to me! Slaves of the Golden Dynasty!"
A loud shout shattered Raven's train of thought. He saw a cloaked figure step into the center of the Capital's main thoroughfare, arms raised high.
"The lifespan of the Erdtree system is nearing its end! We, the free people of the Deeproot, refuse to return to a system destined for collapse!"
Raven's expression shifted; a dark premonition rose in his chest.
"We demand that the Golden Dynasty recognize the Deeproot as an independent nation and cease all interference! We possess a bud of the Goddess of Rot! If the Golden Dynasty does not agree to our terms, we will contaminate the very foundation of the Erdtree!"
Several Leyndell soldiers lunged at the cloaked figure, pinning him to the ground. But in the next heartbeat, the soldiers were thrown back by a swelling, orange-red bud.
"This is your warning! Long live the Deeproot!"
The shout quickly warped into a series of meaningless, grotesque shieks. The bud began to spin eerily as its petals slowly unfurled. The scent of rot spread unchecked, and a sense of absolute dread gripped the hearts of everyone present.
"Everyone, get down!" Raven roared. His voice struggled to travel through the air, which had grown thick and gelatinous like rot; the echo pounded against his own eardrums.
He drew his staff, and a semi-circular wall of glintstone rose from the ground. In the next instant, the macabre petals bloomed completely, and a crimson tide swept out in all directions like a crashing wave.
The Flower of Aeonia had bloomed here.
Raven held his staff level, continuously reinforcing the crystal wall, yet he could not stop the scarlet filaments from spider-webbing through the structure. Shockwaves like earthquakes hammered them one after another. The stone bricks beneath his feet began to feel like shifting sludge, and countless cracks appeared on the wall's surface.
Finally giving up on maintaining the crystal wall, Raven took a few steps back and dropped to one knee, manifesting a magic shield to protect his entire body. Deprived of his mana, the crystal wall—now turned completely red—shattered into a thousand pieces.
The expected impact never came. Raven felt a flash of confusion but did not lower his shield. Only when the surroundings fell into a deathly silence did he dissolve the barrier and stand up.
It was then he realized that Mohg had not stayed down as instructed. Instead, the Omen had stood silently in front of him, acting as a shield.
"Mohg?"
The Omen-born gave no response.
"Damn it!" Raven looked around, finding the Capital's main road unrecognizable.
It was as if a scarlet filter had been placed over the world. Everything within sight was a sickly, eerie shade of crimson—even the sky. Through his combat senses, he could feel that every surface was covered in a carpet of scarlet fungi, and tiny spores drifted through the air.
Mohg was also covered in a layer of the fungal growth. Fortunately, the Omen's constitution was powerful; the rot had failed to erode his vitals, but because of his massive frame and lack of protection, he had fallen into a temporary coma.
Raven cast several Flame, Cleanse Me incantations in quick succession, purging the rot clinging to Mohg. The Omen's breathing soon stabilized; it seemed he would wake before long.
With Mohg's condition stable, Raven drew the Sword of Night and Flame, unleashing a wide arc of fire. The fungal carpet instantly turned to char. The air filled with a scorched stench, punctuated by the crackling pops of spores being ignited.
Just as recorded in the Great Library: fire could suppress the Scarlet Rot. Raven continued to swing his blade, clearing the ground for a dozen meters around him. He leaped onto the soft roof of a nearby building and looked out. The entire district was a festering mess, and the scarlet hue was still expanding outward.
Raven's heart sank. Since the founding of Leyndell, the inner city had never suffered an attack, save for when the Great Ancient Dragon breached the walls during the War of the Ancient Dragons. Now, at the very height of the Golden Dynasty's power, such a catastrophic event had occurred in the capital. The shockwaves would be astronomical.
The suicide bomber's final declaration had pointed all suspicion directly at the Deeproot. Raven had anticipated that someone might cause trouble to muddy the waters, but he had never expected a strike this ruthless and absolute. The illusion of peace had vanished into ash.
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Elden Ring: The Unborn One's Journey Through Elden Ring(170 Chapter - Ongoing)
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