Everywhere Raven's gaze fell, the souls transformed into burning torches. With a mere sweep of his eyes, the entire lava lake was ignited by his vision.
As the russet deathfire closed in, the Great Serpent finally lifted its head from the remains of the Minor Erdtree. It clamped its maw shut, and a moment later, countless burning skulls erupted from its nostrils.
The smoldering spirits of vengeance from one nostril exploded across the lava lake, holding Raven's deathfire at bay. Those from the other nostril swirled backward, throwing themselves onto the serpent's own body in succession, actually managing to suppress the raging deathfire consuming its flesh.
Raven saw the russet glow still pulsing beneath the serpent's scales and knew the fire had not truly been extinguished.
Had Rykard merged with the Great Serpent at its peak, he likely could have won through sheer volume, forcibly dousing the flames. But now, the serpent's foundation was ruined. Swallowing more souls was like carrying wood to put out a fire—it only added fuel. Though the added fuel might prolong the time before it was consumed, it was only a matter of time.
Six months? A year? Two? No matter how long it endured, it would eventually meet Destined Death.
At this moment, the lake was a sea of russet deathfire, while the shore was a field of smoldering rancor. The two fires clashed incessantly, their border jagged and shifting like a hound's teeth. The Man-Serpent legion, barred by the flames, could not advance a single step; they could only hiss in impotent rage.
Raven raised the Sword of Night and Flame before him. As his lips touched the cold steel, the shard of the Rune of Death flew from between them, sealing itself within the blade. A brilliant russet flame instantly ignited along the edge, veiling half of his face.
With a flick of his left hand, he sent his staff to his side. A five-meter-long Azure Carian Greatsword extended from the staff, and Raven spun in a full circle. The deathfire covering the lake's surface spun with him, instantly forming a tornado that bridged heaven and earth, even sucking the magma up into its vortex.
"Get the hell out of there, Rykard!"
The Great Serpent instinctively recoiled. More smoldering spirits of vengeance flew from its mouth, but they stopped before reaching the tornado, hovering and hesitating as if receiving contradictory commands.
The russet tornado seized the opening and drove straight in, engulfing half of the serpent's body. Raven attacked with both hands; the light of the russet flame-sword and the Carian Greatsword rose and fell in alternation, butchering the serpent's flesh like a torrential storm. When the crack-riddled Carian Greatsword finally shattered, Raven dropped his staff and gripped the Sword of Night and Flame with both hands.
The longsword became the eye of the storm, sucking the entire russet tornado into its blade until the very space around it began to warp and distort. It looked as though Raven was not swinging a sword, but rather hoisting a mountain to crush his foe. He brought the blade down upon the serpent's head with agonizing slowness—like an old woman performing a Tai Chi sword routine—yet it seemed as though he hadn't left so much as a scratch.
High above, the miles of crimson clouds over the dome were suddenly split down the middle.
Raven exhaled slowly, watching as the lifeless serpent head slammed heavily onto the shore. The deathfire generated by the burning of tens of thousands of souls had been entirely exhausted in that single strike.
"Since you refuse to come out, I'll just have to rip open your belly and drag you out myself."
"Watch out!" Lansseax suddenly cried. She descended from the sky in her Ancient Dragon form, spreading her wings to shield Raven.
"Don't get in the way, Ancient Dragon," Rykard's deep voice echoed from the opposite side.
Lansseax let out a cry of pain. More than half of her draconic body was mysteriously enveloped in the flames of smoldering rancor. Raven's form vanished instantly, reappearing in front of Lansseax. Within his pupils, an infinite sea of stars flickered, meeting the gaze of Rykard's face as it emerged from the serpent's flesh.
A silent thunderclap erupted. The starlight in Raven's eyes shattered into fragments, and he staggered back. Rykard's face also closed its eyes, black blood trickling from the corners.
Lansseax roared in fury. Once Rykard's gaze was cut off, the smoldering flames on her body became a rootless fire, easily swallowed by the surging red lightning. She raised a dragon claw, and the lightning condensed into a blade dozens of meters long, which she brought down in a flash.
A greatsword parried the lightning blade. The sword's edge was entwined with countless writhing, pulsating blood vessels, radiating a sense of profound blasphemy as it gnashed and clashed against the dragon lightning.
Massive, twisted limbs had extended from the serpent's body. One hand gripped the Blasphemous Blade, which was even larger than Lansseax's lightning blade by a third, and began to slowly push the lightning back.
Lansseax raised her other claw, and a second blade of red lightning crashed down. It only managed to force the Blasphemous Blade down a few inches before the stalemate resumed.
Lansseax spread her wings and threw her entire weight into the struggle, clearly using every ounce of her strength. Yet Rykard used only one arm to brace his sword against the two lightning blades, and eventually, he actually began to push her back.
"Lansseax, don't force it!"
Raven finally realized why Rykard's strength was growing. That serpent head had lifted again and was nibbling on the Minor Erdtree. This time, however, it ate methodically; not a single soul could escape, all of them being swallowed into the serpent's gullet.
The two lightning blades shattered with a roar, turning into a web of electricity that stalled the Blasphemous Blade for a moment. Lansseax took the opportunity to beat her wings and take to the air.
Rykard's face on the serpent's body turned toward Raven, his eyes still tightly shut.
"Until I finish devouring the Erdtree, my power is infinite. Even if Maliketh the Black Blade were here, he could do nothing to me."
"You actually chose the most absolute form of fusion. Even the prayer books depicted in the murals of the tunnels didn't record such a forbidden art."
"On the path of blasphemy, I have traveled further than anyone."
Raven's lips were pressed thin. "The Erdtree will eventually be consumed. You cannot escape Destined Death."
"I did not expect that you would be the fourth Empyrean of the Golden Lineage, and that the Law you carry would be related to death," Rykard laughed raspily. "However, I should thank you for completely killing the serpent's will. Though it only had the instinct of gluttony, its mind was too simple, leaving me no opening to exploit. I couldn't even beat it in a struggle for control of the body."
"Is this what you wanted?"
"Yes. Now, let us commit blasphemy together." Rykard extended a pale, monstrous hand, larger than a dragon's claw. "You shall kill the gods, and I shall devour them. Together, we shall overthrow the Golden Order."
Raven did not reach out.
"You did all of this just for blasphemy? Rykard, you hated the gods so much, fought them for so long, and studied them for so long, only to end up exactly like them. No ideal in this world is worth the price of such degradation."
"Everything has a price," Rykard said with a smile. "I paid the fare, and I received what I wanted. It is very fair. After devouring all the gods, I will meet Destined Death before I can fully sink into depravity. From then on, no Law shall ever bind the people of this world again."
"You paid with things that didn't belong to you," Raven said. "Those prisoners tortured and turned into Man-Serpents—was that also your 'fare'?"
"What else? Is it 'correct' to mobilize farmers, craftsmen, and small merchants and send them to the battlefield? A single Man-Serpent can kill a knight; how many raw recruits would it take to take one down? Fifty? A hundred? Raven, have you really never thought about these questions?"
Raven remained unshaken.
"Only warriors who have made an independent judgment and are prepared to kill or be killed should set foot on a battlefield. If not enough people are willing to fight, it simply means the war should not have been started in the first place. Among those Man-Serpents, did a single one of them choose that fate voluntarily?"
Rykard seemed as though he wanted to mock him, but in the end, he didn't laugh.
"Perhaps people would follow a fool like you," he said self-deprecatingly. "I am not you, and I am not Radahn. How many would truly believe in and follow a leader like me?"
"People did believe in you. Many did. You were the one who never believed in them."
"Is that so?" Rykard paused for a moment before saying, "None of that matters now."
"No, it doesn't." Raven turned around. "Lansseax, let's go."
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Elden Ring: The Unborn One's Journey Through Elden Ring(161 Chapter - Ongoing)
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