Standing by the Ainsel River Well, Raven peered downward. The shaft was a void of pitch-black darkness, with only the faint, haunting howl of wind rising from its immense depths.
"Under normal circumstances, the lift should have returned by now," the Monitor said, walking up beside him. "Something must have gone wrong down there."
"Not necessarily an accident. This lift has likely never been used so continuously," Raven replied, glancing up at the sky. "Unlike the Grand Lift of Dectus, it cannot draw a steady stream of power from the Erdtree's root system. It relies on starlight for its momentum. It will likely take a full night to recover enough energy to move again."
"We cannot afford to wait that long. Besides, even if it recharges, a few more trips would likely deplete it again," the Monitor decided firmly. "Get the ropes. We'll climb down the shaft ourselves."
The leaders of the expeditionary force held a brief meeting. Seeing no better alternative, no one objected.
"Now, let us decide what to do with the baggage," the Monitor said. "I suggest we pick out the fragile items and distribute them among the soldiers to carry. As for the non-fragile supplies, throw them straight down."
Evidently, he didn't count the people as "fragile."
The soldiers bundled their rations, bedrolls, and other hardy gear into packs and tossed them into the pit. The well acted like a black hole, swallowing the bundles without a sound. It made one wonder if they were trapped in a state of eternal falling, destined never to reach the bottom until the end of the world.
"Good. Now it's our turn," the Monitor said casually, as if they were no different from the bundles. Even the elites of the Golden Order, who viewed "returning to the roots" as the ultimate glory, couldn't help but exchange uneasy glances.
"In that case, the horses cannot come with us," a Cleanrot Knight noted.
"That goes without saying. Horses are ill-suited for the subterranean world; even if we could lower them by lift, it would be pointless. The auxiliary units will take the horses back the way they came." The Monitor waved a hand. "Prepare to move!"
Everyone shouldered their packs, tied ropes around their waists, and began the descent in groups.
Only the very top of the shaft was lined with masonry; further down, it became a natural cavern. The rock walls were exceptionally steep, though fortunately not smooth; there were many protruding crags that could serve as footholds.
The cavern widened as they descended, the space expanding many times over compared to the narrow entrance. The torches of the expeditionary force cast flickering, grotesque shadows that danced across the stone walls.
Raven uncoiled a bundle of thumb-thick rope. He lowered half of it, looped it around a protruding rock, and then threw the other half down. As he descended, he gripped both strands for a steady slide. Once he reached the end of the rope's length, he would find a foothold, release one end, and pull the other to retrieve the entire length.
By repeating this process of reeling and releasing, he quickly reached a depth of several hundred meters.
"The rock under my feet is a bit loose, be careful," he called out, once again offering a warning.
"I know, I know! Honestly, have you ever heard of a dragon falling to its death?" Lansseax called from above. Suddenly, she let go of her rope and entered a free-fall, whistling past Raven like a blur. Caught off guard, Raven reached out to grab her, but his hand caught only air.
"Lansseax!" Raven shouted. He was about to use Bloodhound's Step to catch her when he saw her descent come to a sudden halt.
Her fingers had dug into the stone wall like razors. Foregoing the rope entirely, she moved with fluid grace—up, down, left, and right—eventually positioning herself just below Raven. "Just look out for yourself. I'm right under you; if you fall, I'll catch you."
"I'll hold you to that," Raven sighed.
They climbed for six hours and still saw no sign of the bottom. Looking up, the entrance of the well had shrunk until it vanished entirely.
The humid air clung to their skin. A constant buzzing droned in their ears as swarms of gnats and flies were drawn to the glow of Raven's Starlight spell. Finding a protruding ledge, he pulled in his rope and stopped to rest with Lansseax.
The moment she sat down, Lansseax eagerly opened her ration bag, pried open a tin of meat, and began to feast. Tiny sparks of electricity crackled around her; the Dragonbolt incinerated every insect that dared approach the ledge.
Smelling the faint scent of ozone and scorched air, Raven rested his head on his hands and lay on his back beside her. He had already used a Fire Incantation to sear the rock, clearing away moss and vermin, leaving the stone beneath them pleasantly warm.
"Are we moving on soon?" Lansseax asked, rubbing her stomach after finishing her meal.
"Let's rest here first. We're far ahead of the main body; we need to give them time to catch up." Raven dimmed the intensity of his Starlight spell. "There are sleeping bags in the packs. If you're tired, get some sleep."
Lansseax crawled into her sleeping bag but then poked her head back out. "Commander... are you in a bad mood? It seems like for a while now, you've been carrying something heavy on your mind."
"Is that so?"
"You don't show it usually, but I can feel it," Lansseax said, propping her chin on her hand. "Let me think... Right! It started after that meeting where we decided to go on this expedition against the Rot! Are you worried something will go wrong?"
"I'm no prophet," Raven said with a smile. "If I knew things would go wrong, why would I have let you come along? Don't overthink it. We'll rest for a few hours and then set out. We shouldn't keep Loretta waiting at the bottom for too long."
Lansseax didn't argue, seemingly accepting the explanation. Raven watched as she turned over. Her silver hair spilled out of the sleeping bag, flowing like quicksand across the uneven rock surface.
The sound of subterranean springs gurgled from within the walls, and water dripped steadily from the ceiling onto the stones. Combined with the rhythmic zap of Dragonbolt striking insects, it felt like a strange lullaby. Raven, however, felt no sleepiness. He kept his eyes open, observing the cavern.
Ten thousand meters of geological strata weighed down above his head. He could no longer find the entrance, only faint points of light—the torches of other soldiers, moving like bioluminescent insects along the rock face, infinitesimally small.
The residents of the Eternal City must have discovered a fissure leading directly to the surface and built the lift along it. However, this fissure didn't appear to be natural.
In the ancient past, the Eternal City had been struck by divine punishment, buried underground by a falling star. That cataclysm had permanently altered the geography of the Lands Between; this rift had likely been formed then. Observing the traces of the earth being violently torn asunder, Raven could imagine the world-shaking chaos of the impact and the utter despair of the Eternal City's people.
What kind of existence could contend with such power? Was it that other, nameless god who had brought him to this world?
In the gloom, Raven pondered silently. In the eyes of these transcendent beings, were all living things merely marionettes on a stage? Did they pull the strings for a dramatic play when they were interested, only to sever them and leave the puppets scattered on the floor when their boredom returned?
Beside him, Lansseax sat up, her soft silhouette partially illuminated by the starlight.
"Can't sleep?" Raven asked.
"Not while you're awake, Commander."
"Someone has to keep watch," Raven chuckled. "I'm not tired at all."
"You haven't slept once since that roundtable meeting," Lansseax said.
"Ah... I suppose that's true." Raven looked away. "But sleep isn't strictly necessary for a demigod. If I get tired, a short meditation is enough."
Lansseax remained silent, fiddling with a few empty ration tins. Suddenly, she stood up and placed them where the water was dripping. The droplets drummed against the metal with a ding-dong sound. As Lansseax patiently adjusted the positions of the tins, a strange melody began to emerge.
She adjusted the frequency of her Dragonbolt sparks to provide a rhythmic accompaniment. Clapping her hands, she began to hum a soft, impromptu lullaby. Her gentle voice echoed through the cavern. Not far away, some soldiers who were still climbing paused, trying to find the source of the music.
Sitting in the darkness, Raven listened quietly.
"The earliest music was born just like this. The sound of falling rain, the wind in the mountains, the thunder in the clouds... The ancient dragons found melodies in nature, composed songs, and taught them to the other races of the world." As the final verse of the lullaby ended, Lansseax looked at Raven. "How about it? Feeling sleepy yet?"
"A little, but—"
"You're afraid of falling asleep, aren't you?" Lansseax asked sharply. "Are you afraid something bad will happen if you do?"
Raven lowered his head, searching for an answer, when Lansseax suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him up.
"Fine! If you won't sleep, you won't sleep!" Lansseax took a step off the ledge. "Come on, perk up!"
"Hey!" Before Raven could react, Lansseax had pulled him toward the rock face. "The packs are still—"
Four illusory wings made of crackling lightning unfurled from Lansseax's back, and a whirlwind swirled around her. She gripped Raven's hand tightly and led him on a run across the nearly vertical cavern wall. "Run!"
Mimicking the footwork of the Black Knife Assassins, Raven stumbled at first but quickly matched Lansseax's speed. He ran faster and faster, the wind howling in his ears. The gloom in his chest seemed to be swept away by the gale, and a trace of a smile finally appeared on his face.
"Ora ora ora ora!" Lansseax shouted joyfully, her voice echoing through the abyss. She began to sing her lullaby again, but this time she shifted the key and overhauled the rhythm, turning it into a fierce, stirring anthem. "Sing with me!"
Unable to resist her energy, Raven joined in. Dragonbolt flowed between their clasped hands; Lansseax's lightning flowed into Raven, and Raven transferred his own back to her. The energy remained constant, yet the brilliance of the sparks grew ever brighter.
"I, Lansseax, swear a Dragon Vow to my blade and my Commander!" Her clear voice rang out, drowning out the rushing wind. "I belong to him, and he belongs to me. We shall share our Dragonbolt and our fate. Nothing shall ever tear us apart!"
Raven continued to smile, but tears shimmered in his eyes. Droplets fell down his cheeks, shattering into tiny sprays against his collar.
"For all lifetimes," he whispered in the darkness of the ten-thousand-meter abyss. "Not even death shall separate us."
And so they ran, leaving the main body of the expeditionary force far behind, charging headlong into the deep dark.
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Elden Ring: The Unborn One's Journey Through Elden Ring(250 Chapter - Ongoing)
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