After dealing with Gowry, Gawain was about to continue his journey when he suddenly felt something watching him from the cliffs above.
Looking up, he saw a bizarre figure wreathed in ghostly blue flames standing on the precipice, seemingly incinerating a pile of corpses.
From its appearance, it was a bird-like creature, but it wasn't one of the giant crows mutated by the Scarlet Rot found elsewhere. If the rot-creatures exuded a nauseating, morbid vitality, this bird radiated the scent of pure death.
A massive, shattered skull sat atop its long neck, with blue flames flickering inside the broken cranium. It had almost no feathers left; its body was as desiccated and decayed as ancient bone. Beneath its wings, countless withered human faces seemed to drift in and out of existence, as if the creature housed an infinity of souls. It was said that the breath from its beak could "baptize" the spirit.
Despite its grotesque appearance, a strangely divine aura surrounded it. There was no mistaking it: this was a Deathbird, a creature that only appeared at night near the Sellia Gateway in Caelid.
The Deathbirds were remnants of the ancient, primitive faith of death. Before the Erdtree appeared, they were the envoys of death in the Lands Between. The faces shifting beneath its wings were the priests of that ancient era who had been permitted to become part of the bird after death.
In the game, Gawain quite enjoyed farming Deathbirds. After all, they could be "cheesed" into falling off cliffs in the early game, and the Death's Poker they dropped was practically a "wheelchair weapon" for how much it carried players.
Now, however, he didn't have much interest. How strong could a weapon from a faction marginalized by the Golden Order and followed by almost no one truly be? It wasn't a legendary-grade weapon; these primitive faiths were simply beginning to resurface now that the Golden Order's grip on the Laws was weakening.
He decided to ignore the Deathbird for now. That neck didn't look particularly appetizing anyway. Besides, with the Lands Between currently covered in piles of corpses, having a mobile crematorium wandering around wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Of course, that was provided the creature didn't block his path. His most proficient skills at the moment were Holy Incantations and Miracles; he could easily "guide" the creature into non-existence until it was nothing but ash.
Just as he was thinking this, the Deathbird finished with the corpses and snapped its head around to stare directly at Gawain. He tensed, ready to strike—the scene had the distinct atmosphere of a horror movie.
But just when he thought a fight was inevitable, the Deathbird took flight and soared away, likely heading off to process another pile of bodies.
Melina frowned as she watched the Deathbird recede into the distance. Her sealed eye twitched involuntarily, but she said nothing, silently following Gawain's lead. In her eyes, most of the problems in the Lands Between stemmed from the destruction of the cycle of life and death. To solve this, death had to return as an equal to all, but there was still a long road ahead.
Riding Torrent to the outskirts of Sellia, Gawain didn't rush in. The atmosphere felt off.
"It feels a bit too quiet," he noted. "There aren't even any spirit sorcerers wandering the streets."
He recalled seeing several Glintstone sorcerers in Redmane Castle and made a logical deduction. "They've probably all been mobilized to Redmane Castle for the festival. Not that it matters. Let's head in and see."
The moment he stepped into the town's perimeter, countless spells shimmering with a dim blue light were unleashed upon him.
Under the cover of night, these specialized assassination sorceries merged with the darkness, making them difficult to track. Some even came from behind, leaving the caster's location a mystery.
Gawain didn't react at first; he had assumed the faint lights were just natural glintstone deposits on the ground. It wasn't until the projectiles were inches from his face that he realized they were nearly invisible glintstone shards.
Without hesitation, he summoned a storm around him. The projectiles were caught in the swirling winds, unable to advance further.
"These local sorcerers are quite rude," Gawain grumbled. "Is this how you treat a guest?"
Watching the invisible glintstones crumble into black mana under the pressure of the storm, Gawain found the situation somewhat absurd. They had turned assassination spells into a "saturation fire" tactic. Fortunately, their individual potency wasn't high.
He ducked into a secluded corner. Even when a stray Night Shard hit him from behind, the defensive performance of his armor was formidable; the strike merely left a scratch on the surface without penetrating.
He recalled the combat style of the Sellians. These sorcerers pursued absolute practicality. Because of this, even their basic spells could deal unexpected damage to powerful foes.
If he were a pure sorcerer—the "glass cannons" typical of the Lands Between—one of those attacks might have taken him out due to carelessness. Fortunately, he wasn't just a mage. He was a high-attack, high-defense warrior.
"Fine. I'll show you how a real 'Master of the Arts' fights."
Gawain's gaze sharpened. He pulled out the Crystal Sage's Staff and Yorshka's Chime. He didn't plan to kill them all, but he certainly needed to teach them a lesson.
After casting Great Magic Barrier, a brilliant white light enveloped his body, making him particularly conspicuous in the night. This was a Miracle created by Havel the Rock, a man who harbored an extreme hatred for mages. It was designed specifically to counter them. Gawain's magic damage negation skyrocketed by 60%. Combined with his heavy armor, the incoming spells were now less than a tickle.
Gawain first targeted the Noble Spirits wandering in the distance. With a flick of his staff, ten Homing Crystal Soulmasses appeared behind him, automatically locking onto and shattering the spirits.
The Sellian sorcerers continued their attacks from the shadows, but the spells vanished upon touching his barrier without even causing a ripple. Gawain ignored the futile attempts, systematically picking off every spirit in sight.
Once the wandering nobles were cleared, he turned his attention to the casters still hiding in the dark. It was time for Dark Sorcery.
After replenishing his focus, black "humanities" began to seep from the Sage's Staff. The spell Pursuers (also known as Affinity) was successfully cast. These were fragments of darkness imbued with a will of their own, designed to relentlessly hunt down targets hidden in the dark. It was the "Dark Souls" brand of affection.
Screams soon echoed from various hidden corners. The darkness had found its marks. Whether they were spirits or physical sorcerers, anyone forced out of hiding was silenced instantly.
Deep within the sealed inner sanctum of Sellia, two Nox Swordstresses stood behind a hooded figure. The three of them watched the one-sided slaughter through a special glintstone, feeling a growing sense of dread. What were those black things? And what was that blinding white light? Why was their magic completely ineffective?
"Should we... try to talk to him?" one suggested. "I feel like there might be a misunderstanding. Maybe he didn't come here for a night raid?"
"Impossible! Besides, we struck first. I don't think a negotiation will go well now. Send out the final measure."
The two Nox Swordstresses looked at the central hooded figure, waiting for a decision.
"Very well. It is worth a try. But if it fails... we can only hope he shows mercy."
Gawain kicked open a door and dragged out an ambushing sorcerer, pinning him down with the Sage's Staff. He glanced around; no one seemed brave enough to continue the assault.
"Sigh. I was just passing through. Why did you have to make this so unpleasant?"
After knocking the impolite sorcerer unconscious with the butt of his staff, Gawain felt a massive magic circle manifest beneath him. A purple flash of Gravity Sorcery appeared, pinning him to the spot with crushing force.
"Oh? They still had this in reserve? Must be a leftover from Radahn."
Though he could have used Vow of Silence to forcibly break the spell, he wanted to see what else they had planned. He stayed still, feigning being trapped.
Then, several black portals opened in the sky. Giant metal balls—mimicked by Silver Tears—plummeted to the ground and began accelerating toward him, intending to crush him with primitive, blunt force.
Gawain's mouth twitched. What kind of ghost tactic is this? Should he have expected this from a branch of the Nox civilization? Still, since the balls were lined up perfectly, it was the perfect time to test a certain skill.
"Let me show you... a real Soul Stream."
He concentrated his soul power into the tip of the Crystal Sage's Staff. As a powerful spell requiring 40 Intelligence, its legendary status was second only to the crystal sorceries of Seath the Scaleless. And this wasn't the "weak" version from a game; the stronger the soul, the more devastating the power.
As the preparation finished, a colossal torrent of soul energy erupted from the staff. Unlike the pale blue glintstone light, this brilliant soul-glare illuminated more than half of Sellia.
The beam was wider than the street itself. The ferocious torrent obliterated everything in its path. The giant metal balls didn't stand a chance; they were completely annihilated within the massive impact.
The three observers in the sanctum gasped.
"Is that... Comet Azur, created by Master Azur?"
"No," one of the Nox Swordstresses whispered, her voice trembling. "That isn't Glintstone Sorcery at all."
In the face of such absolute power, the assassination arts they had spent centuries refining were utterly meaningless.
"Negotiate?"
Gawain ceased the Soul Stream. The drain on his energy was significant, but it had served its purpose. These sorcerers should be properly cowed now. Just as he was about to find the two Nox Swordstresses and drag them out, a voice echoed from a glintstone decoration on a nearby clocktower.
"Er... can we settle this peacefully?"
"Peacefully? At this point, you have to be joking."
The three people inside fell silent, their minds racing with thoughts of flight. But escaping seemed impossible. They wondered if the lineage of Sellia was destined to end today for no reason at all.
Gawain chuckled. Seeing that they were sufficiently terrified—and having already "sent" a few of those who attacked him to "link the fire"—he changed his tone.
"Of course, if you're willing to surrender, I'm not opposed to showing mercy. But don't send some lackey to talk to me. You—the one who just spoke—come out and meet me personally."
The three inside exchanged glances. The hooded figure sighed.
"It seems there is no other way. I shall go and meet him myself."
Gawain stood his ground as the Sellian sorcerers slowly gathered around. After that last move, there was no point in continuing the fight. Since their leader had given in, they followed suit, curious to see who this powerful mage actually was.
He didn't have to wait long. The crowd of sorcerers parted to make way. The two Nox Swordstresses—the "Double Boss" from the game—approached, flanking a figure Gawain had never seen before.
The person wore robes similar to a maiden's but with a strong Nox flair. The most striking feature was the two horn-like protrusions on her head—the Night Maiden Twin Crown.
The Night Maiden attire was one of the game's more striking designs. The iconic "cat-ear" headpiece was mysterious yet slightly playful. The waist was cinched to perfectly outline the maiden's curves, and the neckline was masterfully cut to preserve a sense of mystery while highlighting feminine elegance. It was the kind of design that left a person speechless.
However, while her outfit was "generous," the figure wearing it was somewhat... petite.
"You're a Night Maiden?"
The girl froze. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled back her hood to reveal the face of a young woman with silver-white hair and a pale complexion. She looked quite young, though given the "old monsters" of the Lands Between who never seemed to age, it was impossible to tell her actual years.
Her pupils and sclera were black, paired with silver irises—the typical features of the Nightfolk.
Surprise flickered across the girl's face, though she quickly regained her composure. It wasn't entirely strange for someone of this power to know of the Nightfolk.
"Indeed. I am of the Nightfolk, with cold blood flowing through my veins. My family name is the same as my home, the Eternal City of Nokstella. You may call me Lilyan."
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