When Morgott launched his campaign against Mt. Gelmir, Margit, the avatar serving as his main commander, took nearly half of his power with him.
It was not his full strength, but Morgott was still confident that Margit could crush Rykard in one stroke and sweep away the rebels of Mt. Gelmir.
It was not arrogance or stinginess on his part. Compared to Malenia and Radahn, Rykard truly was not quite as "outstanding," and Leyndell needed power to defend itself and guard against the Haligtree to the north.
As long as this battle ended in victory, the Haligtree would be completely surrounded by Leyndell. There would be no chance to sit back and reap the benefits. If the Haligtree wanted to aid the volcano, now was the time to fight.
So... what exactly was Miquella waiting for?
"Anything else?" Morgott asked.
"The Carian Faction has sent an envoy accusing us of interfering in the internal affairs of an allied nation," the Omen Knight said, watching His Highness's unsettled expression. After a brief pause, he continued.
Morgott looked utterly baffled. His brow, which had only just relaxed, furrowed tightly again as he asked in a low, puzzled voice,
"What? We interfered in Caria's internal affairs? Explain yourself. What exactly happened?"
At a time like this, someone actually dared to create trouble? They must have a death wish.
The Omen Knight quickly answered, "Apparently, while Caria was campaigning against the Cuckoos, the Two Fingers sent Night's Cavalry to reinforce those rebels. We even lost a squad because of it."
At that point, indignation crossed the Omen Knight's face, and his tone grew distinctly sour.
After all, he had never had the slightest fondness for those high-and-mighty divine emissaries.
"What are those Fingers thinking? Have they gone senile? Useless when it comes to accomplishing anything, yet more than capable of ruining everything." Morgott gave a cold snort and cursed angrily.
He was not blaming his own cavalry Warriors. He was tearing into the divine emissaries without the slightest restraint.
The soldiers had only been following orders. Even if blame had to be assigned, it should not fall on them. Besides, the men were already dead. What mattered now was ensuring the compensation was paid promptly.
It was clear that the Night's Cavalry had acted on the Two Fingers' orders, so there was no need to think too hard about where to seek an explanation. As long as it threatened the Dynasty, even if the other party was the Two Fingers, he would show them no courtesy.
The Grace-Given Lord had always acted decisively and without hesitation. Still, out of the most basic respect for etiquette and diplomatic procedure, he chose to receive Caria's envoy first, then settle accounts with the Two Fingers afterward.
...
At that very moment, deep beneath Caelid.
The rivers of blood that had filled the sky and surged through the air suddenly seemed to lose all their strength, turning into thin strands of mist that gradually dispersed.
Those rivers of blood had been like a train racing at full speed, powered by something akin to a battery. And the Omen who served as that battery had already burned through the last of his life.
The surroundings shifted in an instant from roaring chaos to a silence so eerie it chilled the heart. The stark contrast raised a cold dread, as if one had stepped into the shadow of death.
Within the hazy mist, Nolan and Melina could be faintly seen.
They held their blades and looked around at the bloody battlefield before them, where blood-soaked figures lay scattered across the ground.
Melina asked uncertainly, "Is it over just like that?" Her voice sounded especially clear in the silence.
"It's over, though those bastards aren't all dead yet." Nolan put the Dark Moon Greatsword back into his spirit ring and looked toward the once-grand, now devastated Dynasty Spirit Temple. "With some cleanup, this place should still be usable."
"This feeling, both scorching and freezing... I have never experienced anything like it. What exquisite pain."
A strange moan seemed to reach Nolan's ears, as if coming from every direction at once.
"The voice is coming directly from within space?" Nolan raised an eyebrow slightly, a trace of doubt flashing through his eyes. "Still not planning to show yourself?"
Melina looked completely lost. She saw Nolan's hand close around empty air, golden lightning leaping between his fingers. The air around him warped, and even space-time seemed to tear open in that instant.
"Oh my, can you hear me? So it really was you who took my power."
The same voice rang out again, but the space before Nolan and Melina remained empty. There was not a single figure in sight.
"Could it be... The Formless Mother of Truth that Mohg mentioned?" Nolan murmured softly. Mohg was dead, so the power of blood naturally could not escape his grasp.
From the meaning of that voice in the void, he had even directly stolen the portion of The Formless Mother of Truth's power that had resided within Mohg.
"I have no name, though they do indeed call me The Formless Mother of Truth," the ancient deity replied in a voice gentle yet weathered.
Within her voice, there seemed to be a faint, strange, and elusive pleasure flowing beneath the surface.
"Are you appearing now to avenge your child, to avenge Mohg?" Nolan asked calmly. The title of a god was certainly intimidating, but that alone was not enough to make him afraid.
"There is no enmity between us. Though I do not understand why all of you are so fixated on establishing a Dynasty, I do know that this is simply the fate of those who yearn to become Lords."
Even after losing a child, The Formless Mother's voice remained completely calm, without the slightest hint of grief.
"But aren't you his 'mother'?" Nolan asked.
The Formless Mother was silent for a moment before answering again.
"That wounded child merely longed to be loved and begged to leave that place. I had no reason to refuse his plea."
Why did she sound like some slacker god who was just drifting along and doing the bare minimum?
"Then why come looking for me? I don't like your theories about wounds and suffering at all, and I have no interest in preaching for you." Nolan waved a hand.
Being used to hardship did not mean he enjoyed tasting bitterness for no reason. He was not the sort to force himself to suffer when there was no need. She should go find Mohg instead.
What? Mohg was gone? Then he could send her to meet him.
Just as Nolan was considering his odds of punching through space to snipe a god, Melina, standing off to the side, looked utterly at a loss.
She could not hear the Invisible Mother's voice. All she saw was Nolan talking to himself. Finding that she once again had no idea what Nolan was doing, she felt as though she had suddenly turned back into that clumsy girl.
A nameless irritation welled up inside her. Melina instinctively pouted, crossed her arms beneath her chest, and narrowed her eyes at Nolan.
By all rights, whenever she made that sort of gesture, Nolan would usually come over to tease her, and then she would not feel quite so angry anymore.
But they might soon be fighting a god. Even if Nolan noticed the girl's odd behavior, he clearly had no time to deal with it. He only continued gathering the Lightning of Light.
Fortunately, though Nolan always called her clumsy, she was not completely clumsy. The instant she saw that lightning, Melina had already raised her Dagger.