"You wouldn't mind if I set up a teleportation point here, would you? After all, it's quite a hassle for my people to deliver subjects all the way down here," Mohg said, a thin smile playing on his lips as he looked at Namiya.
Namiya returned the smile but said nothing. She simply watched his movements with a quiet, observant intensity.
Mohg didn't push for a verbal answer; he knew her silence was a tacit agreement. From the way she watched him, he gathered she was likely on guard, ensuring he didn't try any "little tricks" under her nose.
He took no offense to this. It was understandable, and since he had no ulterior motives for the moment, a mutual, unspoken understanding was the best possible outcome.
With practiced ease, Mohg reached his hand into the void. He directed the blood of the Formless Mother into a hollowed-out stone pit before him.
As the pit filled with viscous, crimson blood, a flicker of gravity crossed Namiya's eyes. The grace Mohg received from the Formless Mother was far deeper than she had imagined. In fact, it had arguably transcended mere "favor."
Shortly after the blood pool was completed, its surface—which had begun to settle—suddenly erupted into a series of thick, gurgling bubbles.
Namiya watched with curiosity. She had never seen a method of teleportation quite like this.
A moment later, a figure slowly rose from the crimson depths. It was Holuf.
"My Lord."
"Mhm. How is the situation on your end?"
"All is well. Everything has been settled, and we are currently recruiting personnel from the surrounding regions."
"Good. And what of the people I asked for?" Mohg asked, glancing back at the blood pool.
"Lady Lianna is making the final preparations. It shouldn't be much longer."
Mohg nodded and asked no more. Holuf took his place silently at Mohg's side, standing like a mute, armored sentinel.
Namiya glanced at Holuf before looking away. She could sense a certain dangerous aura radiating from him, but he wasn't a threat to her, so she didn't pay him much mind.
Soon, a group of men dressed as mountain bandits emerged from the blood pool. They were bound tightly and their faces were masked with sheer terror.
Ever since they had been thrown into this ominous blood pool by that strange cult, they had been paralyzed by fear. One man, whose constitution was clearly weaker than the rest, had fainted the moment the blood submerged him. There was even a conspicuous wet trail running down his leggings...
Seeing "people" again upon emerging brought them a momentary sense of relief, but that feeling was quickly replaced by a cold dread when they heard Mohg speak.
"These are the materials for your experiment. I hope you can finalize the technology as soon as possible."
"I suggest you don't get your hopes too high," Namiya replied. "This is our first time conducting this specific experiment. The likelihood of failure is high."
Mohg nodded. He knew the technology was feasible, but it likely required a specific medium to truly succeed. From what he could see, that medium would either be something from within his own body or the Formless Mother herself. Regardless, it wouldn't be the first time he had "sheared the wool" off the Formless Mother; he was becoming an expert at it.
"By the way, I'd like to collect some Dewkissed Herba. Also, I have to ask... would any of your people be interested in finding faith in the Formless Mother?"
Mohg's face wore a benign, friendly smile, but Namiya's expression instantly soured.
Unbelievable, she thought. He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore—he was blatantly trying to poach her people right in front of her!
Meanwhile, deep within the Leyndell sewers, Morgott stared at his hands with a grim expression.
In his palms flickered a new power: the blood-strength of that subterranean Outer God, a cursed blood that erupted into bloodflame. He knew exactly where this power came from; he had seen his brother use it.
He could sense a quality within this power that was similar to the Aspects of the Crucible. However, he had no intention of embracing it. Much like the Omen curse within him, he was determined to seal this power away.
This was a power that had no place within the Golden Order. It could not be allowed to spread.
Yet, this discovery made him realize that his brother was likely hiding something from him. Even so, Morgott had no intention of confronting him.
At the very least, his brother had done nothing to harm the interests of the Golden Order. He had even helped seal the Frenzied Flame and had remained deep underground, guarding that place without ever leaving.
In Morgott's eyes, his brother was simply a man thirsty for power, but he had not betrayed the Golden Order.
Morgott walked slowly to a drainage pipe that offered a view of the outside world. He narrowed his eyes, looking at the Erdtree in the distance and the colossal, stone-like corpse of the Ancient Dragon.
His elder brother was currently fighting for the Dynasty within the capital. If it were possible, Morgott wished he could go out and contribute his own strength as well...
"Prince, do you truly intend to hand over a portion of our troops to this so-called 'hero,' Radagon?!"
Laru's brow was furrowed as he stood on the city walls, questioning Godwyn.
"It is the will of the Two Fingers and my Mother," Godwyn replied without turning around.
However, the slight twitch of his brow suggested that he, too, was somewhat puzzled by the decision.
At a time when the Royal Capital was facing the threat of the Ancient Dragons and the war was in full swing, he was being asked to detach a portion of his forces. These troops were to be handed over to Radagon for training to assist in a crusade toward Liurnia.
No matter how Godwyn looked at it, it seemed like an unwise move. As for the man named Radagon...
Godwyn had met him once. The man's striking resemblance to his own family and that hauntingly familiar expression had left Godwyn dazed for a long while.
Though Radagon's origins were a mystery, his strength was undeniable. Godwyn could sense that the man's power had not yet reached its peak, yet the energy within him had undoubtedly reached the level of a demigod.
For someone with such power to have remained unknown until now... Godwyn could only assume he was a hidden trump card arranged by the Two Fingers and Queen Marika.
If that was the case, then this Liurnian Crusade likely served a hidden purpose.
Godwyn shook his head. He had no desire to meddle in such machinations. He would let the gears of fate turn; eventually, he would see the final result.
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (352 Chapters – Ongoing)
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