Lucian bent down and picked up the pair of curved swords dropped by the Horned Warrior. A name surfaced before his eyes.
[Horned Warrior's Sword]
He tried channeling magic into them, activating the weapon's unique skill.
As his power flowed in, dense Omen-like horns began to sprout and extend along the blades.
This was one of the swords' techniques, a peculiar enchantment used by the Horned Warriors. With these grotesque horns, they could tear into an enemy's flesh and induce severe bleeding.
Lucian held the weapons in his hands, quietly sensing the power within.
The curved swords carried a rather pure form of Crucible power, but it wasn't quite the same as that of the Crucible Knights.
The Crucible Knights wielded a red-gold force, infused with the primordial vitality of the Crucible itself.
But the horns he had just manifested were composed of Unalloyed Gold, strikingly similar to the incantations of the ancient Erdtree.
'What was going on…? Could this be related to the "betrayal" mentioned by Leda and the Horned folk?'
He let the thought fade. Some things were still too obscure to grasp.
Reversing his grip, Lucian drove one of the curved swords violently into the ground.
The blade pierced deep, and from it spread illusory Omen horns, surging outward as magic poured forth.
A moment later, countless thick, jagged horns erupted from the earth ahead, instantly crushing a collapsed structure into rubble.
Seeing the result, Lucian withdrew the blade.
To him, this wasn't a particularly practical technique. A simple stomp or gravity sorcery could achieve something stronger with less effort.
Still, the power contained within the weapon was worth analyzing through a Great Rune.
A new idea had begun to take shape in his mind.
The Great Rune within him allowed him to parse and utilize different forms of power without restriction.
If that was the case… could he reverse the process? After analyzing a force, could he find a way to deconstruct it?
At present, the strongest force he wielded was that of the sun, followed by storm and gravity.
Thanks to the blessing of an Outer God, he had acquired certain traits of a being born of the cosmos. His mastery of gravity had advanced rapidly, nearly catching up to the storm power he had first learned.
If he could break down other forms of energy as well… then perhaps, by combining it with the properties of collapse waves, he could create something like a disintegration beam that unraveled life itself.
—
While Lucian dealt with the Horned Warriors, Leda and Freyja were finally freed from the pressure of battle.
Freyja clutched her wound as blood continued to seep steadily through her fingers.
That strike had torn through her armor, leaving a grievous injury near her shoulder. Her left arm hung limp, completely unresponsive.
It was no light wound. The irregular tear had caused heavy bleeding, and it was difficult to close.
Leda hurried over, pulling out a small vial shimmering with golden light, preparing to feed it to her.
It was the same medicine she had previously given to Dane, a precious remedy used by the knights of the Haligtree.
Even in the abundant Haligtree, such medicine could not be produced freely.
Each knight was allotted only a single vial at a time.
Even Leda couldn't carry many. Preparing one for each member of the group was already the limit.
Yet Freyja paid no attention to her own injuries. Her gaze remained fixed on Lucian and the battlefield, her eyes burning with excitement.
"Lord Lucian really is incredible… If only I were stronger."
"If I were stronger, maybe I'd have a chance to cross blades with him."
"It may be a foolish thought, but no matter how many times I watch him fight… I can't help thinking it."
Leda shook her head helplessly.
Still worrying about that, even now? Seems she hasn't taken enough of a beating.
But… it was also a good sign. At least it meant Freyja's condition wasn't immediately critical.
Leda tore a strip from her already shredded cloak and pressed it against Freyja's wound.
Then she placed the vial into Freyja's hand.
"You're far too obsessed with fighting. I don't even know what to say to you."
"At least pay some attention to your own condition."
Freyja took the vial and laughed.
"Haha, can't help it. I'm a Redmane, after all."
"Only endless battle can satisfy my spirit. That's the meaning of my existence."
Leda smiled faintly.
"Then heal first. After that, you can return to the battle you crave."
Freyja shook her head and didn't drink the medicine.
"Leda, have you been too tense lately?"
"There's a Site of Grace right behind us."
Leda froze for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh at herself.
She had actually forgotten something so obvious.
"Then keep it with you."
That kind of mistake was beneath her. It seemed she really hadn't been in her best state recently…
Perhaps the pressure of being around Lucian was simply too great.
Freyja only needed to think about fighting.
But Leda had far more to consider.
She couldn't so easily accept someone of such overwhelming strength suddenly joining their ranks.
Especially after witnessing what Lucian had just displayed.
Even under the suppression of the Realm of Shadow, he still stood far above the rest of them.
Even if all of them joined forces… they might not stand a chance against him.
Leda helped Freyja to her feet and guided her toward the chamber of grace. Before leaving, she glanced once more at Lucian, who was still experimenting with the Horned Warriors' techniques.
Perhaps… she should let go of her concerns?
After all, Miquella had already intervened. The mark upon Lucian was proof enough.
And she… should place her full trust in Miquella.
—
Lucian found a place to sit among the ruins and waited.
Only after Leda and Freyja returned from the Site of Grace did he nod to them and rise, ready to continue exploring the tower settlement.
Though the place had largely collapsed into ruins, some paths were still discernible.
Soon, the three of them arrived at another fork.
One path remained relatively intact, spiraling upward toward the higher levels of the tower.
The other extended horizontally across their current level.
The structure of the settlement mirrored the spiral revered by the Horned people.
Layer upon layer, it coiled upward, dividing the massive town into different tiers.
This time, Lucian spoke first.
"I'd like to explore this level for a while."
"If you want to continue upward, we can split for now. I'll catch up after I'm done."
Leda considered briefly, then chose to proceed upward.
"I'll head to the higher levels."
"I want to follow the traces of Lord Miquella."
Freyja glanced toward the towering structure at the top of the settlement and decided to go with her.
"There might be strong enemies ahead."
"Even with the suppression, I'm looking forward to it."
Lucian nodded. That settled it.
He would search the surrounding area first, in case there were valuable items hidden nearby.
Still, he didn't want to miss a boss fight, so he added one more reminder:
"If you encounter a powerful enemy, don't rush in."
"You might not be able to handle it right now. Wait for me."
Leda agreed, then led Freyja onward.
Lucian turned and headed in the opposite direction, walking along the broken paths between the ruins.
—
After passing through countless shattered structures, he finally came upon a relatively intact building.
Beyond its tall archway lay a vast, open plaza dominated by an enormous, twisted tree.
The tree resembled the warped vegetation found throughout the Land of Shadow, but far larger.
Its trunk split into two spiraling halves, twisting upward before bending outward and drooping down. From its branches hung gray, willow-like leaves.
For some reason, the sight reminded Lucian of the Two Fingers.
The texture of the trunk, its joint-like bends, even the drooping gray strands, everything carried a faint resemblance.
Several shadowy Horned figures stood in the plaza, clutching small blades as they rushed him.
Lucian casually waved a hand, and they were wiped out instantly.
He walked toward the circular pool built around the strange tree and found a Horned corpse behind it.
In its hand was a broken dagger, faintly glowing with gray crystalline light.
Lucian picked it up and extracted the Ash of War embedded within.
[Shriek of Sorrow]
The name alone was… not particularly helpful.
He couldn't tell what it did just from that.
It sounded like some kind of roar-type skill, probably one that boosted damage.
Though the "Sorrow" aspect suggested it might have some special interaction, perhaps related to taking hits.
After looking around and finding nothing else of note, Lucian turned to leave.
At that moment, a flame suddenly ignited in the open space nearby.
He fixed his gaze on it immediately.
There was something… unusual about this fire.
It burned in shades of red and black, radiating a terrifying power.
The color reminded him of the black flame butterflies that drifted through the burning ruins, those with red-black wings.
If butterflies in the Lands Between symbolized demigods…
Then those black flame butterflies likely corresponded to Messmer.
Lucian's thoughts stirred.
'Could it be… was Messmer himself arriving?'
He watched the flames carefully.
But when the fire flared and parted, the figure that emerged was not the powerful demigod he had expected.
Instead, it was a middle-aged man with a bright yellow bowl-cut, uncannily resembling Dora's hairstyle.
Though the hair looked oddly youthful, his weathered face, lined with stubble, created a strange mismatch.
He wielded a peculiar greatsword shaped like a spear and wore full armor draped heavily in red cloth.
The moment he appeared, his eyes locked onto Lucian.
"Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death."
"In the embrace of Messmer's flame."
After delivering his declaration, he paused, noticing that Lucian lacked the traits of the Horned.
Then his gaze shifted to Lucian's dim, lightless eyes, and his expression changed.
"All ye spurned by grace. Kneel ever more. Before the flame of Messmer."
"Mark my words. The one who kills you is Fire Knight Queelign."
"Stripped of the Grace of Gold…?"
Lucian blinked in slight surprise.
Was he referring to him?
It didn't take long to realize, this must be what the people of the Land of Shadow called those like him.
Queelign raised his greatsword, and a red-black fireball formed beside him, floating in midair.
The moment it stabilized, he charged.
His weapon's shape was unusual, the tip especially sharp, more like a spear meant to pierce through enemies.
His attacks followed suit, focused on thrusts. He leapt forward and drove the blade straight at Lucian.
Lucian lightly tapped the ground with his foot, dodging the strike by a hair's breadth.
At the same time, the floating fireball shot toward him.
Yet instead of evading, Lucian simply raised a hand and met it head-on.
Seeing this, Queelign laughed, mocking.
At the same time, his blade thrust forward again without hesitation.
"To dare belittle the flame of Messmer, then carve this pain into your flesh!"
But to his shock, the seemingly unstoppable flame was easily blocked by Lucian's bare hand.
In Queelign's imagination, that fire should have incinerated Lucian's arm instantly.
Instead, it only flickered faintly between his fingers.
Queelign froze in disbelief. When he snapped back to his senses, his greatsword came thrusting again and again.
Lucian watched the stunned expression on the Fire Knight's face and allowed himself a small smile.
Do you even understand the value of absurdly high fire resistance?
Honestly, he could just stand there and let himself burn, Queelign might run out of FP before doing any real damage.
Up until now, Lucian hadn't even counterattacked. He had only been dodging.
After all, this man kept invoking Messmer. He was clearly one of that "brother-in-law's" subordinates.
And judging by his strength, Fire Knights weren't mere fodder.
Lucian figured they were probably elite troops under Messmer's command, so he held back.
Wouldn't want to accidentally cripple or kill him, things might get awkward later.
Still, continuing like this with bare hands felt a bit too dismissive.
More importantly… it was getting boring.
After a moment's thought, Lucian reached into his spatial disk and pulled out a weapon he had never used before.
A red-gold longsword appeared in his hand.
It was the Ornamental Straight Sword he had picked up from a corpse by the cliff.
He infused it with magic, activating its skill and converting the energy into what was called "Mana".
Even without ever training in such techniques, he could now wield it freely.
As the blade began to float at his command, Lucian smiled.
He had been wanting to try this for a long time.
Lucian brought two fingers together and extended them forward, guiding the blade as if practicing some ancient art from the 'Youngmasters' in those cultivation novels.
The Ornamental Straight Sword moved with his gestures, nimble and responsive, almost exactly like the flying sword techniques he had imagined.
It was the first time Queelign had seen such a method. A trace of caution rose in his heart.
The next moment, without warning, the sword shot forward, streaking toward him.
Queelign immediately raised his greatsword vertically, bracing it with his left hand at the midpoint in an attempt to block.
But just as the blade was about to strike, it suddenly flicked its tail, tracing a sharp arc through the air and changing direction mid-flight.
In an instant, it slipped past his guard and curved around to his flank.
Queelign's expression changed. He released a surge of magic, and a violent burst of flame erupted around him.
The explosion blasted the sword several meters away, barely deflecting the attack.
He stared at the blade now weaving through the air, shock filling his eyes.
That thing was far too flexible.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself back into focus.
It had been… who knew how many years since the Great Holy War.
For a long, long time, they had not faced a true enemy. Even within their ranks, signs of spiritual decay had begun to appear.
The endless war had numbed many. Even the glory they once took pride in had faded.
But Queelign had never wavered.
He still held fast to his duty. He still honored that war.
And now, he would once again remove a source of trouble for Queen Marika.
Raising his spear-like greatsword, Queelign charged forward.
At close range, the space for that flying blade to maneuver would be limited.
Or perhaps… he could pierce Lucian before it even returned?
"Graceless heathen!"
With that thought, he stepped in and thrust.
Flames surged along the blade, leaving a brilliant streak in the air as the strike shot forward, crossing the distance in an instant.
To be fair, it was a beautiful attack.
The thrust carried both immense power and unwavering intent, enough for even Lucian to appreciate.
But there was something off.
A hint of distraction lingered within it, preventing it from reaching true perfection.
Lucian calculated the distance precisely and took a light step back.
The blade stopped just short of his chest.
That tiny gap now felt like an unbridgeable chasm.
No matter how Queelign pushed, he could not close it.
Yet at the end of the thrust, the flames along the blade condensed into a single beam and burst from the tip.
Seeing the attack land, Queelign's heart leapt with joy.
But as the flames dissipated, his expression twisted in disbelief.
The "flame spear" had pierced through Lucian's armor and struck his flesh.
And yet…
There was only a faint scorch mark on his chest.
Nothing more.
Why?
That had been his full-power technique, Flame Spear.
Why had it left nothing but a trivial mark that barely qualified as an injury?
Was fire truly so useless against him?!
Lucian glanced down at the spot on his chest, then looked up and gave a sincere nod.
"Not bad."
It was a technique he had never seen before.
Hearing such genuine praise, Queelign only felt humiliated.
With a roar, he stepped forward again and again, thrusting relentlessly, trying to force Lucian back.
But after dodging several times, Lucian suddenly advanced instead, slipping inside the range of the spear-like blade and closing the distance completely.
At that proximity, the greatsword had no room to move.
Lucian extended his two fingers and lightly tapped Queelign on the forehead.
A burst of flame erupted from his fingertips, scorching Queelign's face black.
The impact of the explosion forced him backward, stumbling several steps.
Lucian had deliberately held back, he hadn't even used the sun's flame. Just a simple, ordinary fire incantation.
The force wasn't even enough to disfigure him.
Queelign wiped his face, utterly enraged.
"Damn you, spurned by grace!"
The floating sword swooped back again, stabbing toward his back.
He had no choice but to turn and block.
All throughout the fight, Queelign had fixated on Lucian's identity as 'Graceless'.
Lucian didn't particularly care about that label, but hearing it repeated over and over was getting irritating.
Taking advantage of the opening while Queelign dealt with the flying blade, Lucian stepped forward and casually knocked him to the ground with a single punch.
Just one hit.
And Queelign felt as though his organs had shifted out of place.
He collapsed, unable to continue.
Lucian crouched down in front of him and spoke softly.
"Spurned by grace, huh?"
"I don't know why you despise them so much… but being 'blessed' might not be as noble as you think."
As he spoke, Lucian activated the fully unlocked function of his Great Rune.
He granted himself grace.
Since he had long relied on runes to strengthen himself, such a faint blessing did nothing for his power.
So he only spent a few thousand runes, just enough to add a visual effect to his eyes.
Soon, a radiant golden light began to shine from his gaze.
Queelign, lying on the ground, saw this—and his pupils trembled violently.
His entire body shook.
A Tarnished… had just gained grace before his very eyes.
And he—
He had fought bravely in the holy war, and for countless years afterward, he had remained steadfast and devoted.
Yet the light of grace in his own eyes had gradually faded away.
What kind of twisted logic was this?!
If this was how it worked…
Then what had all his suffering been for?
Why?
Why?!
"Ahh, how could this be.."
"Forsake me not... "
"Queen Marika, my grace..."
Clutching his head, Queelign let out a wretched cry.
Then his body dissolved into flame, and vanished.
Lucian made no move to stop him. Instead, he watched the spot with interest.
This Fire Knight named Queelign could transform into flame and move through it.
And it wasn't just a short-distance maneuver, he seemed to have traveled from somewhere far away entirely.
Lucian had never seen anything like it before.
It was almost like… an invasion in a game.
Come to think of it, if Melina had been here, this fight might have been avoided altogether.
But it didn't matter.
Lucian had no intention of killing him, and Queelign had no ability to harm him.
Rising to his feet, Lucian glanced at the ground nearby.
Something had fallen off Queelign during the fight.
He picked it up.
[Crusade Insignia]
Queelign had been wearing it on his chest.
Perhaps it was another item that worked without needing a talisman pouch.
Lucian tried equipping it, but for now, he couldn't feel any difference.
He decided to keep it and test it later.
At that moment, a distant sound echoed through the ruins.
The turning of a mechanism.
Then, a heavy grinding noise followed.
Lucian looked in that direction, it seemed to be near the entrance of the tower settlement.
He stroked his chin.
Looks like Leda and Freyja had found the mechanism to open a gate.
After scanning the area one last time and confirming there was nothing else worth collecting, Lucian quickly left.
—
Queelign reappeared within the Church of the Crusade, collapsing onto the ground.
Earlier, he had sensed the mark he left within the Tower Settlement being triggered.
So he had immediately transformed into flame and rushed over.
He had expected another Horned aberration to appear.
Instead, it was a Tarnished, one without the Erdtree's grace.
Not a Horned, but still an enemy.
And yet… he had encountered an opponent far beyond his ability to handle.
And worst of all, what happened at the end…
Another Fire Knight approached and extended a hand.
Queelign refused the help. The knight said nothing and left.
After resting for a while, Queelign finally stood.
Then he realized something was missing.
He quickly searched himself.
When he found that his Crusade Insignia was gone, his already shaken mind became even more unsettled.
"…It must have fallen there…"
He lowered his head, recalling what he had just witnessed.
After a long moment, he steadied himself, bowed his head, and began to pray.
"Queen Marika, mother to us all."
"Favour me with thy grace."
" have met many who would threaten or distress thee, and quelled each and all."
"And I hereby swear to never cease."
"So, please, grant me thy grace. Leave me with my solitary light..."
Please… please don't take that light away…