Bang!
"What?!"
With a thunderous crash, Godwyn stood up, his face contorted with rage. Before him, the once-elegant room had been reduced to a shambles by the sudden, violent eruption of his power.
Kaisen stood nearby, head bowed in silence. He had never seen the First Prince display such raw, unbridled fury.
Godwyn took a deep breath, then slammed a fist into the adjacent wall.
Crack!
The wall—crafted from the hardest stone quarried from the depths of the Altus Plateau—seemed as fragile as parchment under Godwyn's hand. Yet even after this outburst, Godwyn could not hide the mingling of anger and agony etched into his features.
He stood with his head lowered, the silence heavy, until his heaving chest finally began to settle. He slumped into the only chair in the room that remained intact, looking utterly defeated.
Kaisen was at a loss. He had seen the Prince in many states, but this hollow, broken expression was more unsettling than any display of divine wrath.
"Your Highness..."
"...Leave me, Kaisen."
"...As you command."
Once Kaisen had departed, Godwyn reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the war report sent by Radagon.
If the casualties of the campaign had caused him grief and anger, the intelligence regarding the Mohgwyn Dynasty had left him completely adrift. Beyond the initial shock lay a profound sense of helplessness and pain.
Radagon's report did not explicitly name the Blood Lord. However, the details were damning: the use of the Aspects of the Crucible, the distinct characteristics of an Omen, and an aura that was an almost perfect mirror of Queen Marika's own...
Every piece of evidence pointed to one of his two younger brothers. And as the one who knew them best, Godwyn knew exactly which one it was.
The Blood Lord was undoubtedly the younger of the Omen twins—Mohg.
He wanted to believe that Radagon's report was flawed, but as someone who understood the intricate connection between Radagon, the Two Fingers, and the Erdtree, he knew Radagon could not possibly mistake the scent of Marika's lineage.
This reality, as impossible as it was for him to stomach, was the truth.
"Kinslaying... Mother... is this the outcome you desired?" Godwyn whispered. A single tear escaped the corner of his eye, but his gaze sharpened into one of resolve a moment later.
"Kaisen!"
"Here, my Lord!"
Kaisen, who had been waiting right outside the door, pushed it open and bowed. He stole a glance at the Prince and let out a silent sigh of relief; Godwyn looked like his old self again.
"Who else knows the contents of this report?" Godwyn asked.
"Reporting, Sire: no one. Only you and Lord Radagon."
Godwyn exhaled. If this information were to leak, it would deal a devastating blow to the prestige of the Golden Dynasty. Even if the seeds of this disaster had been sown by the Erdtree itself, it could not be exposed now.
Since only he and Radagon knew, he trusted that Radagon—aware of the implications—would keep his mouth shut. With that temporary peace of mind, he could focus on dealing with his brother.
"Kaisen, I am heading to the sewers. If anyone seeks me, tell them I am occupied with urgent matters and cannot be disturbed."
"Understood!" Kaisen stood tall and offered a formal salute. His intuition told him that Godwyn's state was directly linked to whatever lay beneath the city, but since the Prince hadn't shared the details, he wouldn't dare ask.
Deep within the subterranean shunning-grounds, in front of the Seal of the Frenzied Flame, Mohg's projection slowly opened its eyes.
His primary consciousness, which hadn't visited this form in a long time, had finally returned. He took a deep breath of the familiar, damp air and let out a soft chuckle.
Mohg picked up the crude, simple trident resting nearby and walked out of the hall into the open cavern.
Morgott, who was currently practicing his holy incantations, raised an eyebrow as he saw Mohg emerge. "Hmm? Didn't you say you were entering a deep meditation and wouldn't wake for quite some time?"
"Hehe. Well, has it not been a long time already?" Mohg chuckled and sat down across from Morgott.
Morgott offered a rare, weary smile and ceased his training. He dragged over the carcass of a giant prawn—the "prawn-bro" of the sewers—and placed it before Mohg.
With practiced ease, Mohg used the fire of the Aspects of the Crucible to ignite a pile of wood and began to roast the meat. The two brothers fell into a casual conversation.
"Brother, being here with you... it brings a rare sense of warmth," Mohg said, his eyes trailing upward as if lost in thought.
"What are you talking about? I am your brother, after all," Morgott replied, looking somewhat exasperated.
"If... if there comes a day when I turn my back on the Erdtree, what would you do?" Mohg suddenly turned his head, his eyes burning with intensity as he stared at his twin.
Morgott's breath hitched. He froze for a long moment before regaining his senses. "What is this? Why ask such a thing so suddenly?"
"I am serious." Mohg's expression was grim.
Morgott saw that Mohg wasn't joking. After a long silence, he spoke: "I would give you a thorough thrashing and drag you back here, you brat."
"...Hahahaha! HAHAHAHA!"
Hearing Morgott's answer, Mohg threw his head back and let out a hearty, boisterous laugh.
Morgott was completely baffled by the reaction. He reached out and smacked the back of Mohg's head. "What are you laughing at? You're the one who asked."
"Nothing, it's nothing. I just feel like... perhaps I haven't failed to make an impact after all." Mohg stood up with a smile, his gaze lingering on Morgott. "Brother, do you know? The Golden Order as it stands is imperfect. It is flawed. It is neither inclusive nor kind."
"...What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying your path is wrong. Blind loyalty to the current Golden Order will change nothing; it will only usher in an age of stagnation and decay! I want to witness a more prosperous era! I have chosen my own path!"
As his words fell, before Morgott could react, a tall, golden-haired figure appeared in their field of vision.
"...Mohg. Morgott."
"...Big Brother," Morgott whispered.
"Big Brother?" Mohg repeated.
"Mohg, it is not too late to turn back!" Godwyn walked slowly toward Morgott, his eyes fixed on Mohg. He reached out a hand in a gesture of reconciliation.
"...No, Brother. You don't understand." Mohg shook his head slowly at Godwyn. "It is already too late for me. And I do not believe that crawling back to the Erdtree is 'turning back.' If the ultimate outcome changes, I would give up everything to return to the Golden Dynasty—but not now. The Golden Order must change."
"It seems you have truly committed to your path," Godwyn noted.
"Indeed."
Meeting Godwyn's gaze and standing firm against the overwhelming pressure of the strongest demigod, Mohg did not flinch. His eyes remained steady.
"...Then I have no choice but to beat some sense into you!"
"Wait! What is happening here?!" Morgott, still dazed, stepped hurriedly between them, shielding Mohg from Godwyn's impending strike. "Brother, what is the meaning of this?"
"I will explain it to you later, Morgott. For now, let me clear our brother's head!" Godwyn stepped around Morgott, closing the distance to Mohg once again.
Mohg looked into Godwyn's eyes with total composure. "It is useless, Brother. The one standing before you is no longer my true self. This is merely a projection I left here to guard the Seal of the Frenzied Flame."
Godwyn's eyes narrowed. Morgott, however, looked stunned.
"The Seal of the Frenzied Flame?!"
"Wait—projection? You mean the 'Mohg' that has been in the sewers all this time was just a projection?!"
The two brothers clearly had different priorities. Godwyn had only a vague understanding of the Frenzied Flame's existence, while Morgott was more shocked by the revelation that his constant companion was a clone. After all, they had lived together for so long, and Morgott hadn't noticed a thing.
"That is correct. Located at the lowest depths of the sewers, at the burial site of the Great Caravan—the faith of the Frenzied Flame, birthed from the dark history of the Golden Dynasty. And now, it is guarded by two Omen twins born from that very same darkness. How... ironic."
A look of bitter mockery crossed Mohg's face.
Godwyn's expression stiffened, replaced by a look of deep guilt. As Mohg had said: something born from the darkness of the Golden Dynasty was being guarded by those the Dynasty had discarded. The irony was suffocating.
"We can make amends, Mohg. Come back. I will plead with Mother and Father for your forgiveness. I can guarantee your safety."
"Does a bird that has tasted the sky ever wish to return to a cage where it cannot spread its wings?"
Godwyn fell silent.
Morgott stepped forward and grabbed Mohg by the collar. "Mohg! Tell me! What is it you are trying to do?!"
Mohg slowly reached up and gripped Morgott's wrist, pulling his hand away. Morgott's eyes widened at the raw strength in Mohg's grasp; he hadn't expected his brother's physique to have reached such heights—especially in a mere projection.
Mohg had already absorbed the Blood Crystal formed during the battle, which had pushed his raw power to the level of a top-tier hero.
"Morgott, I told you. I do not recognize the current Golden Order. I will pursue the path I believe in. You know my words are true. Think of our kin, discriminated against in these sewers. The Misbegotten and Omens treated as slaves. The Trolls, once allies of Caria, now hunted and shackled by the Dynasty. The decaying Golden Lineage that does nothing but oppress the people..."
As Mohg listed the Dynasty's sins, Godwyn sank deeper into a long, pained silence.
Seeing that both were quiet, Mohg walked to the center of the area.
"I will not resist. I have no intention of reclaiming this projection. I will not allow the Frenzied Flame to spread; if it wishes to leave, it must step over this body. And if you wish to do something to me, you may vent your frustrations on this form."
With that, Mohg sat down cross-legged.
"...Come back, Brother. I promise you, the Golden Dynasty will change. I will not allow so much darkness and shame to exist under my rule."
"Yes, Mohg! Even if you don't trust Mother or Father, what about our Big Brother?" Morgott's eyes lit up. To him, Godwyn was the pinnacle of perfection.
Mohg's lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something. But in the end, he only uttered one sentence.
"If you truly achieve that one day, Brother... I will return and beg for your judgment myself."
He couldn't explain further. How could he tell Godwyn that the next master of the Golden Order would be Radagon, not him? That under Radagon, the Order would become even more rigid and tyrannical? How could he tell him that Radagon was Marika, and Marika was Radagon? Or that the Golden Order was fundamentally flawed, and their own mother had already begun plotting its destruction?
Even if he said it, he had no proof. And even if Godwyn believed him, what could be changed? The Two Fingers and the Erdtree had already made their choice. The successor would not be Godwyn—unless his brother chose to suppress all opposition and force his way into the Erdtree to claim the Elden Ring. But for now, Marika and Godfrey were still a devoted couple.
Godwyn saw that Mohg had no intention of continuing the conversation. He reached out as if to say more, then tightened his fist and let out a single vow.
"I will show you, Brother."
With that, Godwyn turned and left. He did nothing to Mohg. He chose to trust his brother's word—that this projection would remain to guard the seal for eternity.
"Mohg..."
"Brother, you know I speak the truth. Deep down, you've already made your judgment. Even our Big Brother knows the Order's flaws. I will wait for the day you finally make your choice."
Morgott let out a sigh of complex emotion and turned away, walking back into the labyrinthine pipes of the sewers. He... needed to vent.
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