Mohg rolled rapidly through the air, righting himself as he stretched out his razor-sharp claws and tore viciously at the space around him.
The deity he placed his Faith in had granted him a strange power. To him, even empty air could be tread upon as though it were solid ground.
As his palms scraped across the void and sliced through the air, crimson claw marks were left hanging in the sky.
Blood poured endlessly from those gashes. The instant it appeared, it turned into Bloodflame, then erupted like cannon fire against Nolan's descending blade.
In a heartbeat, that cramped space was swallowed whole by cursed crimson fire, making it impossible to see what was happening inside.
Mohgwyn's Sacred Spear split through the flames. Nolan sprang into the air and kicked out, striking the oncoming trident dead-on.
The spearhead was knocked off course, and both Nolan and Mohg, who was gripping the trident, were driven backward by the force.
Using the recoil, Nolan vaulted upward. His silver-white wings beat hard, unleashing a burst of astonishing power as he dove back down even faster than before.
Mohg stopped himself again with his claws. Blood surged from the wound in space and quickly gathered into a roaring torrent.
Dark flames churned within it, making the torrent look like a savage beast baring its fangs as it crashed straight toward Nolan.
The blood burned rapidly. By the time it reached Nolan, it had become a surging wave of Bloodflame.
Nolan advanced into the blood tide. Before him, endless lightning seemed to appear from nowhere, weaving together like indestructible blades that split the oncoming wave clean in two.
The blood wave rushed past both sides of his body without harming him in the slightest.
Nolan beat the wings on his back, raised his Claymore with a faint, unconcerned smile, and continued forward, casually sweeping the Claymore before him.
The towering figure retreated, his raven-black wings beating the air frantically and giving off piercing shrieks.
Mohg turned back like a shadow. His holy spear thrust again and again, stabbing forward with the speed of a fleeting meteor shower.
"Not bad. Did you hone those skills in the Subterranean Shunning-Grounds?" Nolan murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
Before his words had fully faded, his body flashed like lightning. In that same instant, he launched his attack and charged toward Mohg.
Nolan held his sword in one hand, its light flickering wildly. The Claymore danced through the air at high speed, leaving a dazzling trail of afterimages.
Upon the blade of the Dark Moon Greatsword, gold, crimson, and pitch-black light intertwined, clashing violently against the war spear in Mohg's hand.
Clear metallic clangs rang out in rapid succession as sparks flew everywhere.
Under the fierce friction, the Dark Moon Greatsword trembled without pause, letting out deep, resonant growls like the roar and wrath of some ancient deity.
With a legendary champion's physical prowess, Nolan pushed his martial skill even higher. The flurry of thrusts coming at him was riddled with openings, while every counterattack he made was impossible to avoid.
The Dark Moon Greatsword cut across Mohg's chest, dragging out a line of blood. Badly wounded, Mohg let out a shrill roar and shot backward.
The enormous wings on his back swept hard behind him, stirring up a howling gale.
At that moment, the towering figure burst forth with a speed beyond human imagination. The air around him detonated from the force, forming an invisible shockwave in his wake.
Before him, the Storm Eagle and the Flying Dragon would have looked like toddlers learning to walk. Yet Nolan was no slower.
The air between them seemed to be squeezed to its limit by that extreme speed, compressed and condensed by an invisible force.
A storm swept across the skies above the Mohgwyn Palace like raging waves. Thunderous sonic booms echoed without end, as if they meant to tear apart the layer of earth that covered the heavens.
Mohg was the larger of the two, yet in that moment, he felt small, like a powerless, ignorant child challenging a giant who held up the sky.
The closer their strength drew, the more keenly Mohg felt his own "smallness." He could not resist, did not know how to resist, and now no longer even understood how to attack.
Driven forward by the crushing pressure Nolan brought upon him, the Omen spread his broad, tough wings and skimmed low over the ground at tremendous speed. Wherever he passed, gales howled, sand flew, and stones were thrown into the air.
Nolan pursued Mohg like a tiger on the hunt. Mere size offered no safety before this predator. The gap in martial skill alone was enough to kill.
Nolan chased Mohg all the way back to the Dynasty Spirit Temple. With a dull, heavy crash, the Omen was smashed into the hard rock wall by the Lord of Cinder's fist.
After taking such a blow, Mohg threw back his head and roared. The sound rang through the stone pillars and the forest, while the rock wall split apart under the impact, sending shattered stone flying in every direction.
In that instant, Mohg, who had still been standing, could no longer support himself and crashed to his knees.
He had not submitted. He was Mohg, the Blood Lord. A lord would never wag his tail and beg anyone for mercy.
But the deep-blue Claymore had cut through his knee, and the powers of space-time, searing heat, and death spread from the wound.
The moment blade met flesh, Nolan destroyed Mohg's ability to keep standing.
As the overburdened rock wall cracked and collapsed, countless stones of every size rained down.
Yet Nolan, standing amid it all, moved like a flickering ghost. He swept through the air at breakneck speed, carrying a sharp gale with him, while a river of blood, winding and agile like a giant python, followed close behind his figure.
Mohgwyn's Sacred Spear pierced the void. Mohg did not wail. He forced himself to savor the pleasure that sank deep into his soul. The spearpoint aimed at Nolan, and the river of Bloodflame followed the direction he indicated.
Seeing this, Nolan decisively folded the wings on his back, dropped to the ground like a meteor, and slid several meters forward.
Once he steadied himself, his entire body seemed to evaporate into thin air, vanishing completely from where he stood.
With Bloodhound's Step, Nolan appeared at Mohg's side. He raised the Dark Moon Greatsword high, aimed at Mohg's wing, and brought it down with both hands in an explosive slash.
A crisp crack rang out. Mohg's steel-hard muscles and bones actually snapped beneath the blow.
But the pain did not slow Mohg in the slightest. His left hand seized the surrounding space at once, while his right hand swept back without hesitation, scattering the thick blood mist in front of him as he struck out.
Nolan moved like a ghost. His figure flashed as he ducked low, then rose into an upward slash.
The Claymore punched through Mohg's arm and sliced cleanly into the arm holding the spear. Blood sprayed from the smooth wound like magma erupting from the depths of the earth, scorching and crimson.