Leda keenly caught the flicker of doubt in Gawain's eyes. She suspected that he knew some of the inner secrets of the Shattering, which was why he seemed confused by Lord Miquella's whereabouts.
However, revealing this information didn't bother her much. She hadn't expected Freyja to be tight-lipped anyway; what was said was said, and it wouldn't change the grander design. At most, it would let outsiders know that Lord Miquella had once been active in Aeonia—after all, his other half, St. Trina, had also left her footsteps upon this land.
Beyond that, however, these people would know nothing.
Leda possessed absolute confidence in Lord Miquella's plan. Aside from those directly involved, no one could piece together the truth from the scattered clues left across the Lands Between. This was why she felt secure appearing openly in Redmane Castle.
She was the Knight of the Empyrean Miquella—the last one remaining. She had personally purged her former comrades due to "rebellion" or other perceived failings. This had left her with a hardened, decisive exterior that harbored an extreme distrust of outsiders, yet she granted unconditional trust to any companion under Miquella's enchantment, such as Freyja or followers like Dryleaf Dane.
Freyja had returned to the castle specifically to give the General a final send-off after hearing word of the festival. Upon learning this, Leda decided to accompany her to witness General Radahn's last stand. If necessary, she would use her own blade to ensure the wheels of fate kept turning.
Lord Miquella's plan had been stagnant for a long time following Malenia's failure. It was only after the Tarnished returned to the Lands Between that progress became possible once more.
But her goals went further. As Lord Miquella's most loyal follower, she was privy to many of his hidden plans. She knew exactly what he required of her. Her golden eyes could sense the tasks her Lord needed his loyal knight to fulfill.
This journey was not only about bringing the "Promised Consort" to Miquella's side. It was also about selecting powerful, willing warriors to follow him.
Dryleaf Dane and his sect were performing the same task elsewhere, seeking out like-minded followers. Only then could they deal with the troublesome Lord of Blood. By utilizing the unique traits of the Hornsent race, they—the followers—would open the way to the Land of Shadow, allowing Miquella's designs there to reach fruition.
Leda had thought finding one hero-tier warrior was a stroke of luck, but she hadn't expected such a discovery upon arriving at Redmane Castle with Freyja. She had found a truly interesting individual.
Leda had been traveling across various regions making necessary preparations, and only upon entering Redmane Castle did she hear of this "heavyweight" figure attending the festival. Based on the deeds she'd heard, this man seemed different from the other brutal demigods; his goals seemed to align with the "gentle world" Lord Miquella pursued.
Given the opportunity, she intended to test his resolve. If they could serve Lord Miquella together, it would be ideal. She was certain he would eventually be won over by her Lord's charm.
"Indeed," Leda said smoothly. "That gentle Empyrean could not bear to see a warrior struggling in agony, so he personally intervened to save Freyja."
"I was under the impression Miquella disappeared a long time ago," Gawain replied, playing along. "Where is he now? I've wanted to meet that... unique Empyrean for quite some time."
"There is no need for haste. There will be an opportunity in the future."
Gawain mentally filed this information away. To be honest, his attitude toward Miquella was complicated. Among the demigods, Miquella seemed to be the "kindest" one. He had built the Haligtree as a haven for the disenfranchised and had set out on his own path solely to cure his sister's affliction—even if "embracing everything" apparently included the Scarlet Rot, which was a bit insane.
However, Gawain knew the Empyrean couldn't be as perfect as he appeared. Characters designed by FromSoftware usually followed a specific pattern: the more noble and perfect the exterior, the more sin was hidden beneath. Even Morgott, in his tirade against the other demigods, hadn't spared Miquella.
Currently, the facts on the ground were in severe conflict with the lore Gawain knew. Leda clearly wasn't going to tell him more, so he could only wait and see. Regardless, everything would come to light once he reached the Mohgwyn Dynasty.
He spent the remainder of the night chatting with Leda and Freyja, discussing the festival and subtly fishing for info on Miquella. Though Leda spoke in riddles, her tone suggested she harbored no ill will; if anything, she seemed to be trying to recruit him.
At the very least, she wasn't an enemy for now. Gawain had a decent first impression of this elegant knight, though he was curious what kind of face was hidden beneath that helm—he just hoped she didn't have a "cowlick" (ahoge).
The night of revelry ended almost before they knew it. Everyone began silently checking their gear, striving to enter the upcoming battle in peak condition.
Gawain sat on the bed in his room, a dozen pre-upgraded weapons laid out before him. These were the highest upgrades available in this region; he had looked for higher-tier smithing stones but hadn't found any yet, so this would have to do.
But a problem remained. Legendary weapons like the Grafted Blade Greatsword were fine, but he was genuinely worried that ordinary weapons wouldn't hold up against the intensity of the fight. After all, General Radahn's Starscourge Greatswords were no joke.
"Is it really time to use that weapon?" he muttered.
"Hmm? What are you thinking about? It's almost time to take the field; aren't you ready?"
Lilyan had pushed the door open and stepped in silently. She stared at the row of neatly arranged weapons, her eyes widening.
"Are you using all of those in the battle? That's so many."
"I'm worried it might not be enough. These weapons are mostly of Limgrave craftsmanship; they won't survive more than a few clashes with the General."
Gawain sighed and stowed the weapons. He would have to play it by ear. He looked at Lilyan and saw she was well-prepared. Her usual maiden robes had been modified into something more akin to a magic assassin's outfit.
"What about you? What have you prepared?"
"Me? Hehe. 'Unseen Form' and 'Night Comet.' With these, I can launch sneak attacks from safety."
Lilyan cast Unseen Form on herself. Her silhouette faded into a pale blue shimmer, making her nearly impossible to spot in the dark.
"Not bad. But it's still too easy to detect. Let me add a few layers for insurance."
Gawain drew his Crystal Chime and layered Hidden Body and Spook onto her. Suddenly, Lilyan's already faint form became virtually invisible.
"I'll cast these again once the battle starts. Unless you're unlucky enough to get hit by an area-of-effect attack, the General definitely won't notice you."
Lilyan looked down at her invisible body with amazement. Is there anything this man can't do? He could even use the stealth spells the Sellians prided themselves on—and his seemed even more effective. They worked by manipulating light; the more still she remained, the more she merged with her surroundings.
Gawain turned to the window and looked at the stars. It was time.
"Alright. Let's go. The stars have converged."
The two headed toward the plaza. Along the way, they saw familiar faces: the duo of Freyja and Leda, Okina and his Inaba disciples, Blaidd, Iron Fist Alexander, Great Horned Tragoth, Lionel the Lionhearted, and even Patches, fully decked out in his Lapp set.
Therolina, the Finger Maiden, was absent this time. Thanks to Gawain's intervention, she hadn't been turned into a puppet by Seluvis and was currently safe in Stormveil.
Whether they were powerful warriors chosen for the festival or spectators gathered to witness the fall of the strongest demigod, everyone gathered in the plaza in silence, waiting for Castellan Jerren to announce the start.
Jerren stood with his Flamberge held in both hands, gazing at the cosmos. As the countless stars began to shimmer in their final alignment, he knew the time had come. He pulled his greatsword from the stone and pointed it toward the heavens, delivering his final call to arms from the balcony.
"The stars have filled the sky! The hour of the festival is upon us!"
"General Radahn, the mightiest demigod of the Shattering, awaits you!"
"Warriors! Fight! Defeat the General with honor and claim the Great Rune!"
"The festival begins! The Radahn Festival is underway!"
Without further orders, the warriors followed the soldiers to the lifts, descending to the riverbed below Redmane Castle. The river was wider than expected, serving as a natural barrier.
There were no portals here like in the game. The Redmane Knights had prepared for this day by constructing pontoon bridges for the warriors to cross.
The "Wailing Dunes" where the General waited were incredibly vast. Without a mount, most warriors would have been picked off by the General's legendary gravity arrows before even reaching him. Not everyone possessed a whistle to summon a spectral steed like Torrent.
Upon reaching the dunes, even though the General's colossal silhouette was visible in the distance, there was still a long stretch of ground to cover—and every step was more dangerous than the last.
But these brave warriors had long since made peace with death. They urged their mounts forward, charging toward the massive figure in the distance with a deafening roar.
"These guys are suicidal," Gawain muttered. "They're charging faster than me."
Gawain had just finished buffing Lilyan. Before he could even summon Torrent, a crowd of warriors was already rushing toward the General's line.
"I won't have time to look after you once the fight starts. Find somewhere safe."
"Don't worry. I'm good at that."
Gawain blew his whistle and vaulted onto Torrent's back. He took a deep breath, drew his Knight's Greatsword, and felt a sudden, familiar surge of adrenaline. A fierce, excited grin spread across his face.
"Ha! Goddamn, even my blood is boiling for this! This is going to be the climax!"
General Radahn sat with his back to the crowd, hunched over the ground as he feasted on the corpse of a Cleanrot Knight. At the sound of the approaching war cries, he turned his head. Though his mind had been eroded into a blur, his survival instinct and basic combat prowess remained.
His massive back was bristling with several spears from the Cleanrot Knights, yet they did not hinder his movement. The strongest demigod let out a primal roar toward the sky, sending ripples of gravity magic across the desert. The earth itself began to shudder.
The General's roar did not deter the lead warriors. As they closed in, several archers on horseback raised their greatbows and loosed arrows at the massive target. They could hardly miss. A few more tiny arrows joined the spears in the General's back.
Radahn used his gravity magic to steady himself upon his scrawny steed, Leonard. He reached behind him and pulled down the Lion Greatbow he hadn't used in ages. He then reached over his shoulder, plucked several blood-stained Cleanrot spears from his own back, and notched them as arrows.
As the massive bow was slowly drawn to full, purple light coalesced at the string. A sense of impending doom washed over the advancing crowd.
Without hesitation, the cavalry scattered, attempting to break the General's lock. But it was futile. Under the control of the master of gravity, once an arrow was loosed, it would find its mark.
Spears fell from the sky like rain. Several riders were hit with surgical precision. Even if they leaped from their mounts in advance, the spears in the air would curve at impossible angles to strike their intended targets.
Bolstered by the crushing force of gravity magic, whoever was struck by a spear simply disintegrated into a pulpy mess.
The warriors' blood stained the dunes for the first time in an age, making them the first sacrifices of the festival—but their deaths opened a path for their comrades.
Countless warriors stepped over the corpses, inheriting the fallen's resolve. Roaring, they surged forward, wave after wave, charging toward Radahn.
Under the light of the stars, the festival had only just begun.
────────────────────────────────────────
Support me here: https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
Spring Sale Special – 20% OFF!
Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (162 chapter - Ongoing)
Join the journey and become part of the story!
────────────────────────────────────────