"The festival begins when tomorrow's night falls. Are you ready to take the field?"
"To be honest, I'm a little nervous... but you should be able to win this, right?"
Lilyan stood at the gates of Redmane Castle, feeling the faint tremors of an earthquake that had just passed. It was impossible not to be afraid; after all, she had grown up on the legends of General Radahn, the Starscourge. To suddenly face the former guardian of Sellia was a daunting prospect. Even with mental preparation, maintaining a calm heart was a tall order when the moment was finally at hand.
"Relax. If things look bad, just hang back and leave it to me," Gawain said confidently. "In a fight of this level, I doubt there are more than a handful of people in this entire castle who can actually intervene."
When Gawain had first seen the General, he had felt the weight of the man's presence. But after a series of preparations over the last few days, he was able to face the upcoming festival with relative composure. Of course, once the blades started clashing, all plans would likely go out the window.
He surveyed Redmane Castle, which was far livelier than usual. He had learned from the knights guarding the bridge that there would be a grand banquet tonight to celebrate the arrival of the festival. It was a perfect chance to see exactly who had shown up.
With his hands behind his back, Gawain strode through the gates with a swaggering gait. Afterward, he needed to visit Old Man Jerren to inform him that Iji was coming to help forge weapons capable of resisting the Scarlet Rot.
"I'll take you to your quarters in a bit. One just opened up for you. Don't wander around tonight, and don't listen to strangers, got it?" Gawain warned. "You're the only Night Maiden left in Sellia. If anything happens to you, I won't know how to explain it to those two Nox Swordstresses of yours."
Lilyan's mouth twitched. Why does he sound so much like an overbearing parent? She glanced at a gold-armored female warrior passing by, then looked down at herself.
The difference in... stature... was indeed significant. But even if her development was a bit slow, she didn't appreciate being treated like a child. Still, she knew she couldn't win an argument with him. She decided to stay in her room tonight to finalize her preparations; perhaps she could find an opening to land a few sneak attacks from a safe distance when the time came.
Freyja paused and looked back at the warrior who had just brushed past her. There's no mistake. This was the "Storm Lord" Jerren had mentioned earlier. One could tell just by that arrogant, "don't-give-a-damn" stride that the man was terrifyingly strong. She decided she needed to mention this to Lady Leda.
As promised, a grand banquet was held in Redmane Castle on the eve of the festival.
Bread, fruits, and the rare, terrible ale of the Lands Between were laid out on the tables. Gawain took one sip and nearly spat it out. It was filled with grit and had absolutely no flavor. He realized he had been right to tell Lilyan to stay in her room.
Aside from the ale, the rest was ordinary food—hardly a feast, more like a "life-support meal." But given the hellscape Caelid had become, the Redmanes had likely provided the best they had left.
He even spotted some Limgrave specialties among the spread. It seemed the support supplies he had sent from Stormveil had finally arrived. Aside from weapons and fuel, they included non-toxic food—at least one didn't have to worry about biting into a white maggot and getting a mouthful of Scarlet Rot.
Most of the warriors in the castle gathered in the plaza. The festival would open tomorrow. They had all come to challenge General Radahn, and they knew exactly how terrifying the strongest demigod was.
In other words, every warrior here was prepared to die. Thus, on the eve of the festival, they sang and danced with abandon, soaking in the revelry. They were preparing themselves to face death tomorrow with their spirits at an all-time high.
Okina sat with his disciples, the Inaba, meticulously wiping his katana. Though no blood had been shed yet, the tension in the air suggested a clash was inevitable. The killing intent radiating from that corner was so thick that few other warriors dared to approach.
Iron Fist Alexander was engaged in a boisterous wrestling match with Great Horned Tragoth in the center of the yard. When the jar was accidentally flipped onto his back, he couldn't get up for a moment, letting out a hearty laugh to mask his embarrassment.
Blaidd stood at the edge of the battlements, staring into the depths of the dunes. Even from this distance, he could see the massive silhouette at the center of the battlefield. Even as a Shadow of the Two Fingers, he wasn't sure how much of an impact he could make in tomorrow's fight.
He looked up at the stars, which had nearly converged, and clutched his forehead as a sudden pang of pain shot through him.
"Dammit... that feeling again. They truly are relentless."
He knew the Two Fingers were attempting to remote-control his mind again. Though his will remained steadfast for now, the experience was agonizing. He only hoped the influence wouldn't flare up during the critical battle tomorrow.
"Can you hold on, Blaidd?"
Ranni's spirit appeared beside him. She had decided to witness her brother's final moments personally. Seeing the Shadow who had grown up alongside her in such a state brought a pang of sorrow to her heart. He knew exactly where this path led, yet he had chosen to stand by her side without hesitation. She felt a deep sense of debt toward both Blaidd and Iji.
"Don't worry. It won't affect tomorrow's battle."
Ranni sighed softly, turning her gaze toward her brother. "Do not overextend yourself. Even in his madness, the battle tomorrow will be a nightmare. I only hope everything goes smoothly... and that he finally finds peace."
Back in the plaza, Gawain backhanded Patches, sending the scoundrel sprawling to the ground.
"Pathetic. Don't ever say anything that insults my intelligence again."
The man had actually tried to sell him a "Warm Stone" he'd found somewhere for five thousand Runes. Gawain had let the business with the Margit's Shackle slide, but this was a bridge too far.
"Alright, alright, don't get excited! We're compatriots, aren't we? Tomorrow, I'll be right there with you challenging the strongest demigod!"
"Sigh... Patches, every time I try to give you a shred of respect, you open your mouth."
Looking at that classic, punchable grin and hearing that annoying tone, Gawain really wanted to bury a fist in the man's bald head. But he restrained himself.
"Forget it. Just make sure you wear that armor properly tomorrow, or you won't even know how you died."
With that warning, Gawain ignored the lingering Patches. He felt a sense of being watched, but after looking around and finding nothing, he stopped thinking about it and watched the warriors reveling.
There was no doubt that regardless of their strength, anyone who had journeyed this far was a true hero. Most of them were no longer blessed by the Golden Order; if they were killed, they would truly die. While spirits in the Lands Between were technically undying, even Ranni required deep slumber to maintain her consciousness without a body. For these ordinary warriors, death meant losing their sense of self even if their spirits remained.
Gawain knew he couldn't protect everyone tomorrow, but he would give it his all.
As the atmosphere reached its peak, Jerren appeared on the second level of the plaza. He raised his unique Flamberge high. Through years of conflict, this greatsword had become the symbol of Redmane Castle. Flames erupted from the blade, serving as a brilliant beacon under the starlike night.
The noisy plaza gradually fell silent as every warrior's gaze converged on Jerren. He thrust the flaming sword into the ground, the light illuminating his iron mask. After such a long wait, the great moment was finally at hand.
"Warriors! Since you have gathered here, you surely know what you are about to face!"
"Indeed! You face a warrior unmatched by ten thousand! The General who crushed the stars and sealed the cosmos—the Starscourge Radahn! The strongest demigod of the Shattering!"
Jerren recounted the General's past glories before his tone shifted from boisterous to sorrowful.
"But, it is a tragedy... General Radahn has long been a wandering shadow of his former self. Malenia's Scarlet Rot has not only eroded his body from within, but it has driven his mind to madness. It has forced him to gather corpses and feast upon them like a wild dog, friend and foe alike... forgetting all his former honor."
"And I... we... will not allow such ugliness to continue tarnish the General's legacy! That is why you brave souls have gathered here tonight—to participate in this glorious festival!"
Jerren let out a booming roar, pulling his greatsword from the earth and pointing it toward the stars.
"Therefore! The honor that the General himself has forgotten, we shall reclaim for him!"
"Warriors from across the lands! The stars have filled the night sky! As foretold, the festival shall begin tomorrow!"
"Show your courage! Your tenacity! Your strength! Offer a death of honor to General Radahn!"
The warriors in the plaza drew their weapons and pointed them toward the sky, letting out a roar that shook the very night.
"That was quite the speech. Even I got a bit fired up listening to it."
After the banquet dispersed, Gawain found Jerren sitting alone in a corner. The old man was clearly still riding the high of the moment.
"Haha! It seems this old bag of bones can still burn one last time if I try hard enough. We give the General his send-off tomorrow. Are you ready?"
"You don't need to worry about me. I actually came to tell you something else."
When Gawain mentioned that Iji was coming to help forge anti-rot weapons, Jerren visibly relaxed.
"I see... I know his skill well. I didn't expect you to ally with the Carian Royals to bring him here. With his help, containing the Scarlet Rot will be much easier."
"It's more than just that. I have other measures I haven't implemented yet. But first, let's finish this battle. I'll see through the things the General couldn't finish. Otherwise, I'd be too ashamed to take his Great Rune."
Jerren nodded with satisfaction. He felt a surge of renewed energy. Originally, he had planned to "retire" (or worse) after the festival, but now he thought he might stick around for a while longer.
"With those words, my mind is at ease. You really are different from that Godrick fellow. Tell me, is there anything else this old man can do for you?"
"Just delay your retirement a bit longer. Guard this city, and let's scrub the Scarlet Rot from this land together. That will be enough."
Just as the words left his lips, two unfamiliar figures emerged from the shadows beyond the torchlight.
"Old Man Jerren, so this is where you've been hiding. What are you two chatting about?"
"Hmm? And who might this be?"
Gawain looked at the female warrior in golden armor and a black sheepskin cloak. The Radahn crest on her gear marked her as a member of the Redmane Legion, but he had no memory of such a character. Judging by the quality of her armor, she was a hero-tier figure—and a remarkably muscular one at that.
"Oh, I forgot to introduce you. This is Freyja, one of General Radahn's personal guards. She returned to the castle just a few days ago. I had thought her dead in the depths of the swamp, but it seems someone saved her."
Freyja proactively reached out her hand. She had heard of this powerful warrior's deeds, and as someone who lived for the thrill of battle, she held him in high respect.
"You must be the legendary new Storm Lord. Old Man Jerren told me a lot about you. I hope to fight alongside you tomorrow and give the General a battle beyond compare. After all, a lion must always be fighting to be a lion, right?"
Gawain took her hand. Good grief, she's stronger than she looks. He felt a bit of a "simple-minded" vibe from her; she was actually trying to have a contest of strength during the handshake. She was "meat-headed," but her physical stats were absurd.
While Gawain's raw physical strength wasn't quite a match for this muscle-bound guard, his Intelligence was high. He subtly applied a bit of the Gravity Sorcery he'd just learned to his palm. The slight disadvantage vanished as he pressed back, winning the small contest of strength.
He then turned his gaze toward the knight waiting quietly beside her. At first glance, the figure left a deep impression. Her appearance felt completely out of place in the filthy, dilapidated Redmane Castle.
Her snow-white surcoat stood in stark contrast to the environment, and the golden armor beneath it gleamed with a brilliance that reminded Gawain of Miquella's gold needle. But beneath that pristine exterior, there was an inexplicable, underlying scent of blood.
He didn't know her history, but he knew at a glance that in a game, she would be a character with her own questline. Did she save Freyja?
Sensing his gaze, the stranger nodded and introduced herself.
"You may call me Leda. I am a knight of the Needle Knights, serving the Empyrean Miquella. I have come to Redmane Castle following that Lord's guidance."
"I have heard of your deeds. It is heartening to see a kind and gentle King ruling over Stormveil."
Gawain stared at the knight called Leda. She followed Miquella's guidance to Redmane Castle? Was it the same situation as Malenia? And why was everyone obsessed with General Radahn when Mohg was the one hiding underground?
"Leda, is it? I assume you were the one who saved Freyja?"
Leda remained silent, but before she could explain, Freyja interrupted.
"No, I was saved by Lord Miquella himself. In the latter stages of the Battle of Aeonia, when I was severely infected by the Scarlet Rot, I thought I was finished."
"But that Lord found me. He used his own mouth to suck the toxin from my body. Because of him, I had the chance to return to Redmane Castle and give the General a final send-off."
"Miquella saved you personally?!"
Gawain was momentarily thrown into confusion. According to the timeline he knew, Miquella should have been "experiencing" the Lord of Blood's "affection" in the Mohgwyn Dynasty after the blood-soaked abduction. How could he have suddenly appeared on the battlefield of Aeonia? This timeline was seriously messed up.
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (162 chapter - Ongoing)
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