In the forest, Ranni's murmuring voice echoed in Throne's mind. With three Death-seekers whispering not far away, Throne couldn't care less about dignity. He held the petite Ranni in his arms, and just as he poked her delicate cheek, he heard a sharp voice.
"Don't touch me randomly! Being held by you is already the biggest concession!"
Her Highness the Princess could no longer maintain her dignity, merely feeling itchy with annoyance at this inch-taking guy. It was already generous of her not to let him look up at her from a high place, yet he dared to hold her in his hands and grope her.
Times had changed; Throne was becoming increasingly adept at gauging the scale of shame, so he immediately straightened up: "Just consider it killing time. That Deathbed Companion is quite interesting."
"More than just interesting. What she represents is on the verge of extinction. Do you know what death in The Lands Between was like before the Erdtree?"
Ranni paused deliberately, and only when she heard Throne's eager request for knowledge did she begin to explain with satisfaction. The golden order abolished the concept of 'death'. All golden subjects return to the tree from grace, cycling through the Erdtree system, but it wasn't like that before.
The flesh of the dead would be burned away, and the soul would go to the world after death, falling into an eternal dream, where a series of rules also existed.
"Huh, so The Lands Between had a God of Death?" Throne was somewhat surprised; or rather, this felt more like a fantasy world.
"Not a God of Death in the traditional sense. Different beliefs had different deaths; some died by burning, others by rotting."
This sentence was a bit awkward, but Throne knew about that era of warring gods, which could be viewed as individual nations, each with different laws and beliefs.
"And all these deities were done in by the Erdtree?"
"He was a special case, not even living to the era of the Erdtree, falling very early. After the Golden Order was established, returning to the tree replaced death."
Ranni thought for a moment and added: "As for who did it, do you remember why I said Godwyn had to die?"
So it was him. Throne took a light breath, his eyes flickering. He finally connected the events, sighing at what a massive game of chess this was.
If The Lands Between were an operating system, the Erdtree was equivalent to deleting the underlying program and inserting its own set of programs.
"These things are just for you to listen to; they have no practical significance. Let's talk about the value of finding this 'Deathbed Companion'."
Why do I feel so much vigilance? Tch, I just happened to run into her.
Throne felt this was strange and said intentionally: "What if there is no significance?"
"Then hurry up and go to Caelid!"
"Cough, actually there is significance."
He quickly corrected himself, telling the truth.
"Hmm?"
"In the short term, this Deathbed Companion has a certain attraction to Those Who Live in Death. She must be planning something, and maybe I can have an unexpected harvest."
"What is there to harvest from such a weakling?" Ranni blurted out. Thinking about Throne's complex abilities, she changed her tone: "Fine, what about the long term?"
"She wants to find the Prince of Death, and it just so happens that I am also very greedy for him. Moreover, she can force out a troublesome thing inside the Prince of Death, so that I can absorb it."
Throne was prepared to cast a long line to catch a big fish. The Prince of Death was too dangerous; he was definitely countless times stronger than that death tree spirit. It was better to let someone else scout the path first.
"Furthermore, his plan also gave me some inspiration. The golden order must be eradicated, and the correct death will return sooner or later. I must plan early."
Ranni's fingers tightened around the armrest of her spectral throne. How could this fool possibly understand Godwyn's condition? And what made him think some Deathbed Companion could finish what even Marika couldn't? She bit back the questions, offering only a sharpened suggestion: "Since we're cleaning house, remove the loose ends. Only Carian queens have seen the Dark Moon Greatsword. No witnesses remain."
The Sword of Night and Flame served as the royal family's public treasure. The Dark Moon blade was ceremonial at best. Though those fleeing Black Knives might recognize it.
"You want to misdirect the assassins."
Throne caught the implication immediately. The Death Eater incident still simmered beneath the surface.
Night's Cavalry and their hunters had scoured the lands for months without leads. Was this some grand conspiracy or just a swordsman and his sorcerer playing at revolution? The latter would be simpler to handle. No need for interrogations—just corpses. His gauntlet creaked as he clenched his fist.
Truth be told, he cared nothing for the Deathbed Companion. Letting Those Who Live in Death walk among the living turned his stomach. What he and Ranni planned was cosmic separation, not some carnival of rotting flesh.
Still, putting the dead to rest aligned with his goals. The Golden Order's roots needed tearing out, its cycle of rebirth shattered. Fine. He'd use this.
"Plausible. Framing a faction of Tarnished adds layers to their paranoia. Takes pressure off your mentor too."
"Since when do you care about my teacher's burdens?"
"I don't."
Ranni's spectral form flickered with irritation.
"You're walking into Radahn's colosseum. We need diversions."
Direct confrontation risked exposure.
Her stubborn brother wouldn't betray Throne willingly, but rumors of the nameless swordsman's survival would spread like wildfire. Devouring Death was terror enough—add resurrection to the mix, and the Two Fingers would rip the world apart searching for answers.
They needed more targets. Threads connecting the Death Eater to a broader movement, proving the Night of Black Knives was merely the first strike. Plenty of powerful pawns existed to implicate, perhaps even Tarnished turncoats. Another lesson learned from Throne himself. Killing a man was simple. Eradicating an idea required spectacle.
Let the Recusants and Bloody Fingers whisper of ancient gods returning. Make the Erdtree's enemies question which threat to prioritize.
"It works," Throne admitted, lips curling beneath his helm. "Though I'm surprised you'd worry for my safety while scheming."
He braced for the inevitable deflection, some haughty denial—
"Of course I worry."
The admission hit like a crossbow bolt. By the time Throne recovered his voice, the mental connection had severed.
Princess Ranni, ever the enigma, retreated into dignified silence once more.
......
Limgrave's lawlessness made it ideal for fugitives. Distant from the Erdtree's gaze, its old rulers toppled, the incoming Tarnished too busy scrambling for power to notice shadows moving through the cracks. Perfect for a woman like Fia to vanish.
They'd chosen well—this stinking forest reeked of decay and neglect. Few travelers braved its paths. Fewer still asked questions.
Throne didn't ask anything. Apart from occasionally exchanging some intelligence with Fia, there wasn't much communication between the two sides. After all, his current appearance had 'fierce' written all over his face, not as gentle as his original appearance. He was not in a hurry at all. When he had nothing to do, he would hold a magic book and study.
As a test-taker, he hadn't stayed in Liurnia long enough, so he had to study on the road.
"Hmm, this mana threshold theory is interesting. Every spell frequency has an upper limit defined at its creation, which reduces learning difficulty and improves safety."
While throwing rowa fruit for Torrent to run back and forth to catch, he flipped through the pages.
This was a rare book 'borrowed' from the Grand Library, and the author's name was also very simple—Rennala Caria.
"So that's it. Without a threshold, a mage could easily release all their mana at once, fainting at best, or dying on the spot at worst. No wonder mages pay more attention to control and variation."
In reality, there was no idiot from the Crimson Demon clan who fainted after one high-power spell. Rhythm, variation, and even continuity were more important than mere power. Even Comet Azur had an upper limit; the difference was just that the caster's mana level determined the height of that limit, and the skill release time was proportional to the power.
"The most powerful spell I have now is Comet Azur."
Throne looked up, grabbed another handful of rowa fruit and threw it, watching the happy Torrent, pondering secretly. After conquering the Raya Lucaria Academy, he had reached the level of a magic professor, but this was far from enough, or rather, humans were not yet able to cross this threshold. Incantations were similar to mana.
The so-called brute force approach—Rennala had already explained the method to cross the threshold, but to actually do it required a massive energy source. So, how could one stop being human? He looked at his clenched left hand. Inspired by Sellen's research, he was no longer human.
If he possessed a powerful energy source and combined it with the amplification of full-body magic patterns, then crossed the threshold, then... Throne turned another page, tapping gently in the middle of a certain paragraph. That would achieve 'super-tier magic'. It sounded very impressive, a certain stage for mages stepping into the realm of gods.
And don't forget, Throne was not just a mage, but more like a hex-warrior.
"To achieve this, even slaughtering all the Glintstone Sorcerers wouldn't be enough. So, just use a great rune to force it?"
He was thinking, when he felt some warmth on the back of his hand. He looked up and saw Torrent staring at him expectantly.
"Alright, alright, if you eat any more, you'll turn into a fat horse."
Throne tapped its head lightly, making the Spirit Steed snort unhappily, then it turned around and kept sweeping its tail across his face. It was very itchy, but before he could discipline this mischievous little mare, he gently closed the magic book.
A pair of fair, bare feet stopped in front of him. Fia had walked over quietly, a smile on her face.
She suddenly felt that this headless one looked scary, but in reality, he wasn't that terrifying.
Throne glanced at her and asked casually: "Got the item?"
"So you knew?"
"Hmm, that underground catacomb not far away has a very strong scent of death."
Throne actually knew long ago why these people ran to the seaside.
There was deathroot in that catacomb, only it seemed there were no Black Knife guards. Fia was a bit embarrassed. She had racked her brains for the past two days to hide it from the other party. She took out a small black box and tried to squeeze out a smile.
"Would you like to take a look?"
"Isn't it just deathroot? Nothing to look at."
Throne thought to himself that he had even eaten this stuff, but the quality of this one wasn't as good as the one in Summonwater Village, so it was better than nothing. He was more concerned about why this Deathbed Companion went to the catacomb to look for deathroot. It didn't look like something she would swallow.
Fia was very sharp. Before he could ask, she replied: "The Death Hunter is everywhere recovering deathroot, so I had a hard time finding this place and made a move first."
"This thing is not a good thing; it only brings disaster to the living." Throne warned coldly. Deathroot was like some kind of radiation source.
"By my side, this child won't have any problems. On the contrary, if it is recovered, only the Erdtree will be happy."
Naive. Throne shook his head. The process of dealing with deathroot was simple: hunters would eliminate the Those Who Live in Death in the catacombs, recover the deathroot and hand it to Maliketh, and the latter would swallow it to reseal the Destined Death, repeating the cycle.
But as long as Godwyn was still there, deathroot would continue to be produced over time. The beast simply couldn't finish swallowing it; it was destined to be a futile effort.
'Forget it, he can at least slow down the collapse of the golden order. That does me no good.'
Throne was not a righteous hero. As long as the Deathbed Companion didn't run around with a radiation source and cause coffins to open everywhere, he didn't care who had the deathroot.
"Keep it. Where are you planning to go next?"
"Continue exploring for deathroot. Of course, if you could provide me with clues about the Prince of Death, I would be very grateful to you."
Throne paused, turned his head back, and saw the Deathbed Companion with her hands on her chest, her face full of sacred colors, and a cold charm. A loving hug, or a sacred deathbed? Even after traveling through most of The Lands Between, Throne admitted that she was a stunner, a gentle trap that no hero could easily escape.
Throne turned his head without hesitation: "Sorry, I don't want to die so early."
Uh, how could I die. Fia chased after him. Her thoughts were similar to Melina's. She really wasn't willing to give up, yet lacked the latter's determination.
"The Prince of Death is in a very secret place. You couldn't possibly get there on your own."
"But if you said it, wouldn't it no longer be secret?"
Throne stopped and looked at her again: "Beneath Leyndell, the Royal Capital, do you dare to go?"
Fia was stunned. The current Leyndell wasn't just a matter of disgusting sewers; there were tens of thousands of the most devout Erdtree subjects inside. A single spit from each of them could drown her. This wasn't a question of daring or not, but that going was equivalent to suicide.
"But there is another way to bypass it, it's just not open yet."
Fia was a bit annoyed. Why did this man speak with such long pauses? She tried hard to maintain her cold and sacred appearance.
"If it's not open, I can find a way to find it."
"You want to go that badly?"
The girl nodded, showing a look of yearning: "If I want to understand death, I must first see death."
Throne looked at her deeply.
This woman was capable of combining two Cursemarks of Death to produce the 'Rune of Death'; her ability was not as weak as it appeared on the surface. I wonder what it tastes like to swallow... During the Night of the Black Knives, two dead were created: one was Godwyn, who died in spirit, and the other was Ranni, who died in body. They each had half of the Cursemark of Death.
He wasn't afraid of these people actually accomplishing anything. Even if they got Godwyn's half, it wouldn't be enough. Ranni's half was still on the Divine Tower; even if combined, it would be useless. That would require someone to sit on the Elden Throne.
'These few aren't strong, but the Deathbed Companion is still useful to me.'
Throne rolled his eyes, a plan coming to mind.
He needed these people as decoys—alive, not dead. Their presence might spook the Two Fingers into dragging some ancient survivors out of hiding.
"Follow me."
He swung onto the Spirit Steed without looking back. Caelid waited, and he had no patience for death-seekers wandering blindly. Better to stash them somewhere useful.
Fia blinked. The man's sudden cooperation caught her off guard.
The two guards closed in.
"Don't trust him," the armored youth muttered. "He'll turn on us."
His whispers carried the same suspicion he'd voiced for days.
"Sell us out?" The short, round man scoffed, spreading his hands. "Too much effort. If he wanted us dead, we'd already be bleeding."
His companion fell silent. They'd all seen what the Tarnished could do—fighting him would be suicide.
Fia exhaled, steadying herself.
"I can't decipher his motives. But skulking through the Lands Between like rats gets us nowhere."
Her voice hardened. "Maybe some strong men act on whims alone."
"Hey. Coming or not?"
Throne's shout cut through the air. This was a detour, nothing more. Success or failure meant nothing to him.
Fia clenched her jaw and broke into a run.
She also didn't trust this powerful Tarnished who had appeared out of nowhere. Yet something about him prickled her senses—a whisper of familiarity, a scent of death purer than Those Who Live in Death.
Throne didn't dwell on it. He tugged the reins and mapped the path ahead.