Watching the broken-horned Omen narrowly dodge the leader's attack, Mohg clicked his tongue in disappointment before continuing to observe the fray.
In terms of physical size, the Omen Leader was a notch larger. Their weapons were roughly equal, but in terms of power, it was a clash of elements: one wielded the power of Cursed Blood, while the other commanded Cursed Wraiths.
At a glance, it seemed the Omen Leader held the upper hand while the broken-horned intruder was being suppressed. However... that was only if one ignored the surrounding variables.
Mohg carefully scanned the rest of the battlefield. He quickly realized that the Omens under the leader's command were mostly being overwhelmed; several looked like they were on their last legs.
As long as the broken-horned Omen could endure the leader's onslaught, the final victor of this skirmish was already decided.
To be honest, Mohg didn't want to see the leader lose. The leader had established a semblance of order in the upper sewers. As for these feral Omens from the lower levels... Mohg had a bad feeling about them.
If the feral faction took over the upper levels, it would be detrimental to his and Morgott's development. Who knew if they would scare off the Perfumers or the soldiers who occasionally dropped "supplies"?
These were all unstable factors that could jeopardize their growth, and Mohg found the situation deeply displeasing.
Should I try to do something? he wondered.
The Omen Leader, naturally, had also read the tides of battle. He became even more frantic, unleashing a savage torrent of strikes upon the broken-horned Omen. His massive strength crashed down repeatedly.
Under the sheer weight of the impact, the broken-horned Omen was forced back step by step. Deep gashes began to mar his skin, and the occasional bursts of Cursed Wraiths spat from the leader's mouth only added to the mounting pressure.
Just as the broken-horned Omen seemed about to buckle, a roar of triumph erupted from across the room.
One of the feral Omens from below had successfully decapitated an upper-level Omen. He was now hoisting the severed head by its horns, letting out a vainglorious howl.
Mohg's heart sank. He turned to look at Morgott.
"I think we need to prepare an exit strategy..."
"It seems coming down here today turned out to be the right choice after all," Morgott replied. He had clearly reached the same conclusion. After scanning their surroundings, he bolted toward the direction from which the lower-level Omens had emerged, gesturing for Mohg to follow.
Mohg blinked. He had intended to wait a bit longer, but it seemed he had to move now. As for Lit, who was still in the upper levels... he could only wish him luck. In this chaos, there was nothing he could do for the boy.
Mohg quickened his pace to keep up with Morgott. However, the moment he turned a corner, Morgott vanished from his line of sight.
The sudden disappearance made Mohg freeze for a second. Fortunately, he soon heard Morgott's muffled voice coming from a slightly smaller pipe.
"Hurry, in here."
Hearing the familiar voice, Mohg breathed a sigh of relief and dove in. He had to admit, the pipe Morgott had chosen was a perfect fit. It was dry inside, suggesting it had been abandoned for some time. While they could navigate it comfortably, a full-grown Omen wouldn't be able to fit—not even if they tried to crawl.
An Omen's body wasn't just tall; it was incredibly broad.
"Phew... is it just me, or does it smell even worse in here?" Mohg's face immediately puckered like a dried towel.
"It's not your imagination. I smell it too. But at least it's safe," Morgott replied. Even he, who had entered the sewers without flinching, was now silently pinching his nose.
Mohg sighed and followed suit. "Isn't it a bit too dark in here?" he asked, his voice sounding nasally through his fingers.
"Mhm. But we can adapt..." Morgott nodded. His eyes, glowing with a faint golden light, scanned the interior of the pipe.
Soon, the two reached their first junction—a three-way split with paths leading straight, left, and right.
"...Which way?"
"Let's try them all until we find the one that fits best."
"Fair enough."
Morgott agreed. The two exchanged a look. Simultaneously, one stepped left while the other stepped right.
They stared at each other in silence for a moment, then stepped back to the center.
They nodded again. This time, they both switched sides and stepped out at the same time once more.
"...Let's just go straight for now."
"Great idea!"
Having finally decided on a direction, the two didn't hesitate and marched forward.
They were unaware that shortly after they left, a figure crawling slowly on the ground emerged from the left-hand path. It extended two antennae from the top of its head toward the direction they had gone. After doing so, it raised its upper body slightly to watch them disappear into the gloom.
"There's a hole up ahead. Be careful," Morgott warned, stopping in his tracks and looking back.
Mohg nodded. The two carefully stepped over the gap in the pipe.
But just as Mohg's trailing leg cleared the hole, a slimy, slippery sensation suddenly wrapped around his ankle, making his skin crawl.
"Holy sh*t!"
Morgott whipped his head around and reached out for Mohg.
Whoosh—!
The result was both brothers tumbling down into the pipe below.
Splat!
Contrary to the pain Mohg expected, his first sensation upon landing was that it was... soft.
Then, his hand brushed against a slick, gooey liquid. Before he could even process it, he reflexively brought his hand to his nose to sniff it.
"Gah! Barf! Dammit, what is this stuff?!"
Mohg waved his hands frantically, trying to fling the slime off. Then, his night-vision adjusted, and he saw the scenery around them.
The boy who had been complaining moments ago instantly froze in place.
"Mohg?"
"Shhh!"
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My : https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (51 Chapters – Ongoing)
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