Cool moonlight poured through the mottled holes in the wall like water, spreading across the ground like a silvery veil.
Nolan dragged Count Luke's battered body behind him, standing like a god as he looked down on the silent crowd below.
The Claymore in his hand carved a dazzling arc through the air, like a falling meteor, carrying overwhelming force and a chilling edge.
A few drops of crimson blood scattered with the swing of the blade, drifting through the still night like blooming blood-red flowers, both haunting and beautiful.
One by one, the soldiers revealed their fear, loosening their grips and letting their weapons fall.
Nolan turned slightly, his sapphire-blue eyes as calm as ever, like a windless lake without a ripple.
"We've won," he said lightly. His voice was quiet, yet every person present heard it clearly.
"Ah… yes. The fortress has fallen. We've won."
Vyke, standing to the side, froze for a moment before nodding instinctively. His gaze still carried the shock of witnessing the castle collapse.
"Same as always. I'll personally execute these family samurais. As for the rest, we can consider accepting their surrender."
As he spoke, Nolan walked toward the moonlit breach in the wall.
The fighting throughout the fortress had largely subsided. The once-deafening clash of battle had faded into silence.
Only the soldiers fighting for the world continued hunting down the remnants of the enemy.
Under the nobles' harsh and relentless exploitation, it was impossible to win the full support of the lower classes.
They would decide for themselves who offered the better life.
More and more knights and soldiers poured into the castle.
At the sight of corpses strewn across the ground, they couldn't help but suck in a breath. But soon, their eyes filled with admiration as they looked toward the tall figure in the distance.
The strength of the Pure White Champion was unfathomable, like an abyss. He had taken the final stronghold with astonishing speed.
As always, Nolan kept his usual silence. He said little, and didn't need to say more.
He picked up the Count's head and raised it high before the crowd. Waves of cheers shouting "Long live!" rose one after another, and even the endless night seemed to brighten.
Lofty ideals, combined with real food and runes, only deepened the people's devotion to that towering figure.
What followed was routine. There was no need to dwell on it: taking over the territory, rewarding merit, expanding the army.
As for the Count's former retainers who refused to submit?
Vyke would try to reason with them. Nepheli would use her axe to show them what reason meant.
Before a champion, minor nobles didn't even have the right to resist.
Nolan suddenly turned around. The moment he did, the cloaked girl and the cross-dressed beauty were already standing behind him.
"You two, are you satisfied with this outcome?"
Nolan straightened his slightly disordered armor, then spread his hands with a faint smile as he asked.
The girl said nothing. She simply gazed into the distance, ignoring the noise around her.
If one listened closely, the soldiers' excited shouts of victory could still be heard.
Silence was answer enough.
"You really are impressive. I have to admit it, I was no match for you. I'll honor our agreement."
After a long pause, Dolores finally spoke, calmly acknowledging the truth.
"But don't celebrate too soon. This wager isn't over yet."
"Killing this Count was easy. But how will you take Stormveil? And how do you plan to kill Godrick?"
Nolan narrowed his eyes slightly, a faint smile forming at the corners of his lips as he replied at an unhurried pace:
"This land is currently controlled by a weaker force."
Though his personal strength was formidable, when it came to the army as a whole, his forces were inferior to the Rebel Alliance's grand legions in both number and quality.
If they hadn't committed too many troops to the front lines, leaving their rear defenses dangerously thin, taking this fortress wouldn't have been so easy.
As for those war machines, they had barely seen any of them.
"You want to fish, but I'm afraid your bait isn't big enough." Dolores frowned, clearly unconvinced.
As the weakest Demigod, Godrick was naturally the Roundtable Hold's primary target.
But he had been holed up inside Stormveil Castle the entire time, making him extremely difficult to deal with.
"Then I'll give him a reason he can't ignore. A reason to kill me, even if it means leaving Stormveil."
A faint smile touched Nolan's lips, calm and composed.
Melina, standing nearby, showed a hint of confusion in her eyes. She clearly didn't understand what he meant.
But from past experience, she chose not to ask.
Nolan's confidence left Dolores with nothing to say. She had watched the entire siege unfold in silence.
This man had slain two champion knights. His skill was undeniable. And yet, she couldn't see any real strategy behind it.
When Nolan appeared openly before the fortress, she had never imagined things would end this way.
At most, she had assumed he'd come up with some unheard-of tactic.
But the result had gone far beyond anything she expected.
Nolan had simply forced his way through, relying purely on overwhelming, near-invincible strength.
Nolan didn't bother explaining his earlier remark. He just lifted a hand slightly and called out into the distance:
"Vyke, come here."
Vyke didn't hesitate. He quickly jogged over and stopped beside Nolan.
Nolan leaned in close and whispered a few words into his ear.
The moment Vyke heard them, shock flashed across his face. But just as quickly, he steadied himself and nodded repeatedly.
Then he turned and hurried off.
Two Tarnished Ones, leading dozens of cavalry, rode out at full speed toward the surrounding towns and villages.
Not long after Vyke and Nepheli left, the name Nolan Bethel stirred another uproar across Limgrave.
It wasn't just because a Tarnished had taken control of a Count's territory.
More importantly, a piece of explosive news spread like wildfire.
Nolan had refused the title and rewards granted by the Golden Descendants.
And the reason behind it pointed to a chilling secret.
Godrick was using the Tarnished for grotesque grafting experiments.
"The Grafted Lord" Godrick was a name known throughout the Lands Between.
Even though he had tried to conceal it, the drastic changes to his body could never truly be hidden beneath a few tattered wrappings.
Until now, however, Godrick had always claimed that his targets were various non-human creatures.