Stepping out of the Castellan's chambers, Gawain saw a new challenger undergoing the trial. It was a familiar face—the old man known as Okina, clutching the blood-red katana, Rivers of Blood.
He bore the classic look of the Land of Reeds. From what Gawain knew, those who hailed from that land were almost always touched by a hint of madness. This included Eleonora, the Violet Bloody Finger whom Yura was hunting. Based on background descriptions, the Land of Reeds beyond the Lands Between was likely a place shrouded by the influence of the Formless Mother.
Gawain had a deep impression of Okina. After all, he was the formidable warrior who had managed to wound the Lord of Blood before eventually fighting his way to the Mountaintops of the Giants. Although the thick aura of Cursed Blood emanating from the man made Gawain uneasy, Okina would be an ally in the upcoming festival, so Gawain refrained from making a move.
As Gawain paused to observe the flamboyant weapon skill of the Rivers of Blood, deep beneath the earth where he could not see lay the seat of the Mohgwyn Dynasty.
Mohg opened his solitary eye. Through Okina's Cursed Blood, he had just glimpsed the man who had once defeated his projection.
After that incident, the Dynasty's remaining forces in Limgrave and the Weeping Peninsula had been essentially uprooted.
Mohg knew that if his opponent stayed within Stormveil Castle, bolstered by the power of the storm, even he—wielding the Sacred Spear that could commune with the Mother—might not be able to eliminate him. Outside, unlike within the Dynasty, Mohg could not manipulate an almost infinite supply of Cursed Blood.
However, the man had come to Caelid. He was right above him. Perhaps a suitable opportunity would arise to eliminate this perceived threat to the Dynasty once and for all.
At that thought, Mohg brandished his Sacred Spear. The massive pool of Cursed Blood at the center of the Mohgwyn Dynasty began to boil. The spear pierced the void, resonating with the Formless Mother in the distant, starry depths.
She craved wounds and delighted in bestowing further blessings upon her favored child. A massive torrent of Cursed Blood flowed from the void, creeping upward along the stone walls of the underground caverns. It began to seep beneath Caelid's scarlet topsoil like a venomous snake hidden in the dark, waiting to deliver a fatal strike to its prey.
The results of the trial were announced shortly after. Although Okina didn't win, his performance was among the best Gawain had seen besides his own. Okina's fighting style wasn't just the mindless spamming of weapon skills seen in games; instead, it reminded Gawain of a certain "Shura" who enjoyed the rhythmic clashing of blades.
Leaving the plaza, Gawain greeted Alexander. The warrior jar's wounds were almost entirely healed. According to Alexander, he planned to head to a nearby corpse pile to gather the remains of powerful warriors to stuff inside himself.
Gawain wasn't sure how to judge this. It seemed to be exactly what a warrior jar was supposed to do. Since the will of the corpses would be inherited by the jar, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, so he decided not to interfere.
Though he had already decided on his next move, Gawain wasn't in a hurry to leave. Between his meeting with the Castellan and watching the trials, it had grown late. He decided to depart the following morning.
He went to check on Philia. She currently had sufficient materials to produce at least a few types of useful aromatic bottles.
"I've spoken with the Castellan," Gawain said. "If I provide you with enough space and manpower, can you produce a sufficient supply of these powders quickly?"
Philia hesitated before shaking her head. She wasn't one for empty boasts. As a perfumer with a scholar's spirit, she knew such a task required immense logistical support.
"Doing it here in Caelid is unrealistic. While the Scarlet Rot environment is perfect for these mushrooms to grow, it's too dangerous. I need a secure environment for research. These mushrooms can also grow in poison pools, preferably within dark caves."
"I see. Don't worry. Finish the aromatic bottles for me first. In a few days, I'll send you back to Stormveil Castle. There aren't many perfumers left in the castle, so it'll be up to you. Your requirements will be met. I only ask that you produce results as quickly as possible."
Philia's eyes widened. That was Stormveil Castle Gawain was talking about. She couldn't imagine how much her research environment would improve there. Furthermore, the complex ecosystem of the Weeping Peninsula contained almost every aromatic material she could ever need. She had never fought such a "wealthy war" in her life.
"You can count on me," she promised earnestly. "I dare say even the Royal Perfumers from the Capital won't be able to match my research speed."
She paused, remembering something vital. "By the way, exactly how potent do you want these aromatic bottles to be? Everyone's constitution is different, and the concentration required for a specific effect varies. Should I mix them to a high-potency level for you? Of course, those medicines will place a burden on the body once the effects wear off."
Gawain waved her off. When it came to "rebound" or backlash, nothing compared to the toll the Dark Souls' frenzy took on his body.
"Don't worry about the backlash. Make them as strong as possible. Just as long as I don't end up with mushrooms sprouting out of my head after drinking them."
"Er... you don't need to worry about that."
Gawain spoke with her a bit longer regarding the Scarlet Rot. She agreed that his ideas were highly feasible. The only problem was that Caelid was simply too vast. Limgrave couldn't possibly abandon everything to go all-in here; they needed labor-saving alternatives.
Gawain already had a few ideas. In the future, he would likely need to visit Iji. The giants' smithing techniques, combined with Carian Royal technology, would be the perfect solution.
Gawain left Redmane Castle the next morning. Carrying a token personally given by the Castellan, his passage in and out of the fortress was unhindered.
After crossing the Impassable Bridge, he helped the garrison repel another wave of rot-afflicted creatures before heading down the main road toward the Sellia Gateway.
A Redmane Knight guarding the gate watched him leave with a sigh of admiration. "The Castellan really brought someone incredible. I think he'll be the winner of this festival."
A companion nearby was noncommittal. "Hard to say. Even if General Radahn has lost his mind, he's still the strongest demigod. It's possible there won't be a single winner—only an end when the General's life finally burns out."
The knight agreed, glancing at the sky. In truth, the festival was being held earlier than originally planned. For some reason, the stars were converging faster, as if drawn by something. Judging by the timing, it had started right after that man arrived in Caelid.
However, moving the festival forward meant one thing: General Radahn's remaining strength would be far greater than anticipated.
He silently offered a blessing to the powerful warrior. He looked down at the ground, where flames still flickered, forming a clear boundary that held the Scarlet Rot at bay.
"If only he wandered around a few more times. The areas scorched by his flames have been resisting the rot's spread even now. Perhaps he really can inherit the General's Great Rune and help us solve the Scarlet Rot once and for all."
Not long after leaving the Impassable Bridge, Gawain saw a massive gateway ahead. Soldiers patrolled the battlements, and he could see Iron Virgins from Volcano Manor as well as marionette soldiers from the Academy on patrol.
He knew that Sellia, Town of Sorcery, was currently one of the last places in Caelid not entirely overrun by rot creatures, second only to Redmane Castle.
Furthermore, Master Lusat, a master of the Primeval Current like Sellen, was located there. As a sorcerer's body closest to being a "Child of the Stars," if Sellen were told of his location, she would eventually transform into something similar.
Gawain didn't want to see that outcome and was doing his best to avoid it, though he knew he would eventually have to check the situation himself. After all, the town was a branch of the Nox civilization. If he guessed correctly, the treasures hidden there were far more numerous than what the game had shown.
Summoning Torrent, Gawain changed direction and headed straight into the heart of the Swamp of Aeonia.
Hmph. This familiar feeling. It felt as if he had returned to the Farron Keep—like coming home. At least this time, he didn't have to fat-roll through it.
Currently, all of Caelid's soil was being encroached upon by the rot. However, while the Caelid highway remained a functional, if dangerous, path—relatively safe for nomadic merchants and perfumers so long as they avoided the Kindred of Rot—the Swamp of Aeonia was different. As the epicenter of the Goddess of Rot's bloom, it had become a paradise for rot creatures. Everything there was thoroughly corrupted.
But this place couldn't stop him. Feeling the vibrations from Torrent's hooves, Gawain noticed the texture of the rot-mire felt like the piles of undead flesh he had waded through at the Cathedral of the Deep.
It seemed the Scarlet Rot's manifestation in the Lands Between was essentially a plague of tenacious, rotting life. This wasn't so much a swamp as it was a massive, undulating mass of living, putrid tissue.
At the edges of the swamp, the contamination wasn't too severe—similar to the main road. However, Gawain could see violent geysers erupting in the center, and many bizarre, abstract creatures roamed the mist.
At least the Lesser Kindred of Rot and the giant crows and dogs had fixed forms. The creatures at the center had surfaces that had turned entirely fluid, constantly shifting shapes and bursting with rot-filled liquids.
Disgust flickered across his face, but he steeled himself and pressed deeper. The swamp was far wider than he had anticipated, which significantly raised his estimation of the "Goddess of Rot." The Lands Between truly couldn't afford another "nuclear strike" like that.
As he explored, several swamp creatures attacked him—crows diving from withered branches and mutated Giant Land Octopuses. Without exception, these creatures oozed scarlet fluid and white spots, occasionally erupting in scalding torrents of biomass from the ground.
Gawain and Torrent coordinated perfectly to dodge. Gawain would retaliate with a glob of Pyromancy Flame, leaving the monsters to dance in the fire until they collapsed.
Before long, he encountered someone unexpected yet inevitable: Cleanrot Knights in golden armor. A dozen of them wandered aimlessly through the swamp in a pack, seemingly indifferent to their bodies being swallowed by the rotting sludge.
The Cleanrot Knights didn't actually worship the Scarlet Rot like the Kindred of Rot did. They were once steadfast warriors moved by Malenia's will and determination to resist the rot, choosing to follow her of their own volition. They were loyalists who had followed her knowing full well they would eventually be consumed by the very thing they fought.
After following Malenia to Caelid, many were left behind when she fell into a coma and was carried away. Some lost their minds to the rot; others were locked in an endless, mindless war with the Redmane army.
Gawain knew these people had long since been driven mad by the rot; there was no reasoning with them. Like the rot creatures, they instinctively attacked and sought to corrupt all life.
However, unlike the infected beasts, they retained their combat instincts. Sensing an intruder, they immediately unleashed a dozen Sacred Rings of Light toward his position.
Gawain urged Torrent to speed up. He used the "Twisted Wall of Light"—a skill perfectly suited for the task—to deflect the projectiles before forming several "Way of White Coronas" in his hands to strike back.
The warriors, lacking any fundamental sense of self-preservation, took the full force of the attack. Gawain viewed it as a mercy.
The sharp discs of the Way of White Corona swept through the area, slicing through the Cleanrot Knights' armor to reveal the indescribable, mangled flesh within. Gawain didn't care to look too closely at the gruesome sight inside the suits.
Bypassing the corpses as they merged back into the swamp, Gawain spotted his primary objective. It was a lone island in the center of the swamp, where massive, withered trees twisted together like the petals of a flower that had bloomed and then died.
That was the birthplace of Millicent and her four sisters. Five girls, each representing a facet of the Goddess of Rot, had been "born" from the bloom. Currently, all were being consumed by the rot. Only Millicent maintained her sense of self through sheer willpower, but without the Golden Needle to suppress the rot, her fate was only a matter of time.
"Commander O'Neil should be in there. I wonder what the old man will think when he sees me, the Lord of Storms."
Just as Gawain was thinking about how to retrieve the Golden Needle from the commander, a burst of red light erupted from the gaps in the withered wood. The Commander was activating his combat skill.
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (127 chapter - Ongoing)
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