Lucian came to a stop as he looked at the scattered remains on the ground.
Judging from the equipment left behind, he was certain that many of the dead had belonged to the Cuckoo army.
The bodies had been carefully disassembled into similarly sized pieces, likely to feed larvae. The remains were still fresh, suggesting they had been collected only recently.
But how had the Cuckoos ended up down here?
The giant ants didn't seem to have expanded their territory to the surface. Their domain remained confined to the underground reaches of the Ainsel River.
Since there were no giant ants on the surface, these soldiers couldn't have been dragged underground by them.
Which meant there was only one possibility.
The Cuckoos had come down here themselves.
After some thought, Lucian opened his map.
It didn't take long for him to figure it out.
Along Liurnia's eastern shore stood a great well leading underground, much like the one hidden beneath Mistwood in Limgrave.
Both wells connected to the underground world, but neither provided a direct route to an Eternal City.
The Mistwood well led to the lowest reaches of the Siofra River.
Nokron, the Eternal City, rested high above sheer cliffs that were effectively impossible to reach by ordinary means.
The Liurnia well, however, was somewhat different.
Though there were significant elevation changes, reaching Nokstella from there wasn't impossible.
After descending into the underground world, travelers could cross another stretch of ancient Uhl ruins and eventually arrive at the Ainsel River floodgate.
Beyond that point lay the lower reaches of the river.
From there, all one needed to do was pass through the ruins, overcome a certain upside-down Astel, and climb up onto the path leading toward Nokstella.
In the game, the route was largely one-way.
In reality, however, it was hardly an impassable obstacle.
If someone truly wanted to climb up, even a simple ladder would probably do the job.
Whatever the Cuckoos were after, Lucian had no intention of letting them roam freely through Nokstella.
First, he needed to locate them and determine how far they had progressed.
After that, he could decide how to deal with them.
Walking deeper into the ant nest, he found several tunnels branching off in different directions.
Exploring each one individually would take far too long.
This was an anthill, after all. Every passage likely split into countless more.
Fortunately, Lucian had better options now.
He summoned a powerful gust of wind and sent it racing through the tunnels.
The currents threaded their way throughout the colony, carrying information back to him.
Soon, a detailed image of the enormous underground nest formed within his mind.
Even the ants moving through distant passages appeared within his awareness.
The cavern he currently occupied was already enormous.
Compared to the full scale of the colony, however, it was barely a tiny corner.
The nest spread through the underground like a living labyrinth, as though the ants intended to hollow out the entire mountain.
The sheer number of ants constantly moving through its passageways was enough to make even Lucian uncomfortable.
Thankfully, he still hadn't found the Cuckoo soldiers.
He expanded the search.
The wind swept beyond the nest and farther into the Ainsel River basin.
As the area of exploration widened, he located Nokstella first.
The route leading there was still occupied by large numbers of ants.
Judging from the situation, the Cuckoos had not yet reached the Eternal City.
Lucian quietly memorized the route before shifting his focus downstream.
The underground world was simply too vast.
Maintaining such detailed detection already required significant concentration.
Soon afterward, he found what he was looking for.
Unlike the ants, these were unmistakable signs of human activity.
Groups of people had gathered among the ruins downstream.
Judging by their numbers and behavior, they certainly weren't Claymen.
The only possibility was that they were the Cuckoos who had descended from the surface.
Nearby, occasional clashes between the ants and the invaders continued.
The ants carried away fallen bodies from both sides.
Opening his eyes, Lucian considered the situation before setting off.
The ant colony completely blocked the route to Nokstella.
Anyone wishing to reach the Eternal City would have to pass through it.
The Cuckoos hadn't broken through yet, but they were already dangerously close.
That meant reaching Nokstella would not require much more effort on their part.
Technically, Lucian could simply ignore them.
He would arrive first regardless.
Even so, he decided it would be better to deal with them now.
Wrapping himself in a barrier of storm winds, he concealed his presence.
Then he layered another veil of invisibility over himself and proceeded deeper into the nest.
Protected by both forms of concealment, he walked directly past giant ants that failed to react to his presence in the slightest.
Satisfied with the results, he continued onward.
The deeper sections of the nest resembled a vast charnel ground.
Bones and remains of countless creatures carpeted the floor in thick layers.
The sheer quantity left Lucian wondering where the ants found enough food to sustain such numbers.
Surely they couldn't rely entirely on corpses drifting downstream.
Nor would that be sufficient to support a colony of this size.
Fortunately, the answer soon revealed itself.
Several chambers were filled with shredded plant matter covered in thick underground mushrooms.
The ants were omnivorous.
That explained a great deal.
Still, despite consuming almost everything else, Lucian noticed something curious.
Among the countless remains, there were no Claymen.
Likewise, he found no traces of juvenile Astels.
The latter at least made sense.
Astel creatures could float and defend themselves.
The ants might struggle to catch them.
The Claymen, however, moved slowly enough to be easy prey.
Yet the ants seemed to leave them alone.
For some reason, the two groups coexisted peacefully underground.
Perhaps Claymen simply tasted terrible.
Or perhaps they weren't edible at all.
Lucian couldn't think of any other explanation.
Downstream along the Ainsel River, large numbers of Cuckoo troops had established camps while steadily advancing toward the giant ants' territory.
Every day followed the same exhausting routine:
Set up camp.
Break camp.
Advance.
Repeat.
Fortunately, they had brought plenty of expendable troops.
The undead soldiers under their command neither complained nor tired.
Though many ordinary soldiers disappeared into the ant nest each day, the Cuckoos cared little.
Anyone who wasn't a true Cuckoo Knight was expendable.
And expendable troops existed to absorb losses.
The giant ants were formidable, but they were still ordinary creatures rather than some endlessly multiplying hive species.
No matter how efficiently they recycled resources, their reproduction couldn't keep pace with the Cuckoos' advance.
While the front line continued pushing forward, several Cuckoo leaders gathered inside a large command tent near the center of camp.
A tall woman with a warhammer resting beside her studied a worn map.
"If this map is accurate," she said, "then we shouldn't be far from the Eternal City."
Her armor had been modified to distinguish her from ordinary Cuckoo Knights.
The other leaders present were similarly distinctive.
Across from her sat a thin man carrying a silver twin-bladed sword.
Resting his chin on one hand, he shrugged.
"Whether it's accurate or not doesn't really matter."
"That thing told us to come here, so here we are."
"Wouldn't be the first time we've spent months chasing nonsense."
Several others nodded in weary agreement.
Their mysterious superior constantly sent them exploring strange places.
Ancient tombs.
Monster-infested caves.
Forgotten ruins.
The rewards rarely justified the cost.
But the being giving the orders was powerful enough that disobedience wasn't an option.
The Mimic Tear ruled over them completely.
At that moment, a new voice suddenly spoke from nearby.
"I have a question."
"Could someone explain what exactly this 'thing' you're talking about is?"
The entire tent froze.
The Cuckoo leaders spun toward the source of the voice.
Standing there was a complete stranger.
When had he arrived?
How had he gotten inside?
They were in the center of a heavily guarded camp, surrounded by elite warriors.
Yet none of them had sensed his approach.
The uninvited visitor was, of course, Lucian.
The difference in strength was simply too great.
He had walked through the camp without a single person noticing.
Now he calmly studied the assembled leaders.
Each possessed talents that had earned them positions of command.
Every one of them had reached roughly heroic levels of strength.
In earlier days, they might even have provided a decent challenge.
Now?
Compared to the opponents Lucian regularly faced, they barely registered.
Practically any major enemy he had fought recently could wipe out this entire tent without much difficulty.
One of the leaders, wielding a pair of poisoned daggers, silently slipped into position behind him.
Taking advantage of the distraction, he thrust toward Lucian's lower back.
In his mind, the attack was certain to inflict serious damage on this mysterious intruder.
The other Cuckoo commanders silently cursed him for being reckless, yet they couldn't help hoping for a favorable outcome.
The odds were slim, but if his strike actually worked, then perhaps this enemy wasn't unbeatable after all.
Unfortunately, the attack never had any chance of landing.
Without even turning around, Lucian calmly snapped his fingers.
The moment the sound echoed through the tent, the commander behind him abruptly vanished into a cloud of crimson mist.
It was as though a gust of wind had swept through and erased him from existence.
For a brief instant, a violent storm enveloped his body, tearing him apart faster than the eye could follow.
A red haze drifted through the tent, lightly staining the weathered canvas.
The remaining commanders trembled.
Any thought of fighting had disappeared.
The metallic scent of blood filled the air.
Witnessing the fate of their comrade, the others felt both relief that they had not acted and despair at what they had just seen.
Looking at the commanders who still clutched their weapons but no longer dared to move, Lucian smiled.
"Come on. You're really not that impressive."
"Don't take it personally. I'm not singling anyone out."
"I'm saying everyone here is weak."
"So how about you answer my question honestly?"
"Otherwise, things may become considerably less pleasant."
—
At the Royal Capital of Leyndell beneath the Erdtree, an unusual meeting was taking place.
Morgott stood beside the throne, quietly studying the guests he had personally summoned.
Two Cuckoo leaders stood before him.
They looked exactly alike.
Both had slightly wavy black hair, the features of middle-aged men, and an air of noble refinement.
Their equipment was customized and distinctive, clearly setting them apart from ordinary Cuckoo commanders.
One of them looked at Morgott and spoke in an even tone.
"I never expected the famed Grace Given Lord, Morgott, to be an Omen."
The moment he spoke, the man beside him, Merrill, the same Cuckoo commander who had previously communicated with Lucian broke out in a cold sweat.
'Please, Chief. We're standing in his capital. Maybe don't say absolutely everything that comes to mind.'
'I'd like to live a few more years.'
If he had any say in the matter, he wouldn't have come here at all.
To his surprise, Morgott showed no reaction.
Although he rarely appeared publicly within Leyndell, he never concealed his nature from those granted a personal audience.
Anyone summoned before him learned the truth.
Of course, only a handful of people had ever received such an invitation.
Morgott replied calmly.
"Likewise."
"Yet, in truth, a greater marvel presents itself that the true commander of the Cuckoo host should prove a mere Mimic Tear."
"Thou art but the second of thy kind, possessed of wit and self-knowing spirit, that I have encountered."
He examined the figure once more before continuing.
"Thou seemest stranger still than the first I did encounter."
"For Mimic Tears, in their common lot, are not wont to bend men to their will."
For the first time, a faint trace of surprise appeared on the Mimic Tear's otherwise expressionless face.
"You've met another self-aware Mimic Tear before?"
Morgott nodded.
He had encountered Asimi during the battle at Stormveil, when he and Mohg had fought using their projections.
Since the topic involved Lucian, Morgott didn't mind discussing it before moving on to business.
If the other party knew anything useful, all the better.
"Her name was Asimi."
"She dwelt within, and took upon herself the likeness of he who is called the Storm King of Stormveil, Lucian."
At the mention of Asimi's name, understanding dawned on the Mimic Tear.
"So it's her."
"Then it makes sense that she developed her own consciousness."
"Though I didn't expect her to choose Lucian."
He paused thoughtfully.
"That complicates matters somewhat."
Morgott agreed.
Lucian was already their greatest obstacle.
Now he also possessed a Mimic Tear capable of reproducing his abilities.
The flames of ambition within him continued to burn fiercely.
And Morgott intended to extinguish them.
After a moment of thought, the Mimic Tear set the topic aside.
"If you're interested, we can discuss that matter later."
"For now, let's talk about our cooperation."
He looked directly at Morgott.
"Specifically, the complete transfer of command over the Cuckoo army to Leyndell."