"Now then, champions who seek to challenge me—step forward!"
Godfrey extended his right hand toward the qualified warriors below, issuing a booming invitation.
"I'll go first!"
Oslo, unable to contain his fighting spirit any longer, blurred into motion and leapt onto the dueling stage.
"Oslo. I remember your name," Godfrey said, gripping his battle-axe. A grin born of pure battle-lust spread across his face. "Show me even greater surprises."
Whoosh—!
Oslo didn't waste breath on words. He lunged at Godfrey immediately.
Storm-Born Whirlwind!
Terrifying gales converged around Oslo's twin axes, turning him into a literal hurricane of silver light. Godfrey's eyes lit up. Just as he shifted his weight onto his left leg to meet the charge, Oslo's hurricane abruptly changed direction, spiraling into the air.
Below the stage, Geloros watched with a flicker of surprise. It seemed Oslo hadn't shown his full hand during their earlier selection match.
Swoosh—!
A second later, Oslo plummeted from the eye of the storm, hurtling toward Godfrey like a falling star.
CRASH—!
Godfrey pivoted his axe, his massive arms bulging as he unleashed a terrifying upward swing. The raw force of his strike seemed to tear through the very air before clashing with Oslo's descending axes.
The resulting explosion of sound was deafening. Shockwave after shockwave rippled through the arena, and the stage beneath Godfrey's feet spiderwebbed with deep fissures.
The stalemate didn't last long. A figure was suddenly blown out of the swirling dust, tumbling through the air before hitting the ground hard.
Screeeech—!
With a shower of sparks and a trail of torn stone, Oslo skidded across the stage, finally stabilizing himself on one knee.
"Cough! Cough!"
The moment he stopped, he spat out several mouthfuls of blood. He looked down at his hands—one of his battle-axes had snapped clean in half. He wiped the blood from his chin and lowered his visor once more.
Godfrey raised his axe high, spun it effortlessly over his head, and brought it down in a casual sweep to his left.
Whoosh—!
Even that casual swing left a horrific gouge in the arena floor.
"You've given me quite the surprise, Oslo. Does your power hail from the Stormveil of the south?"
"No. This is the power of my homeland. But since you mentioned it, my King, I shall have to pay that place a visit one day." Oslo stood back up, settling into a battered but defiant stance.
"Hahaha! Splendid! You shall have that opportunity!" Godfrey laughed boisterously and planted his axe firmly into the ground beside him. "Stand down for now. You haven't received the Grace of the Erdtree yet. I have no desire to lose a powerful subordinate before the war even begins. If you still wish to challenge me, there will be plenty of chances after the Bestowal."
Oslo froze. This was the countless time he had heard of this "Grace." From Godfrey's tone, it wasn't just a blessing of status—it promised a literal increase in power. After a moment of hesitation, Oslo lowered his remaining axe. He had seen the gap between himself and the First Lord. He had craved a defeat, and he had received one.
More importantly, he recognized the strength of the man he was to follow.
"I understand, my King. I shall be the sharpest blade in your arsenal."
"Hahahaha!" Godfrey let out a thunderous laugh and turned his gaze back to the remaining qualifiers. "Next!"
The battles that followed mirrored Oslo's experience. Godfrey claimed victory with overwhelming dominance in every match, yet each warrior managed to impress him. Their varying styles and indomitable wills were "delicacies" that the war-hungry King devoured with relish. He loved strong warriors—especially those brave enough to look a god-like King in the eye and strike.
The cost, however, was the dueling stage. It was now ruined beyond recognition, a mess of rubble that would take weeks to repair.
Karo, the Pontiff of the Two Fingers, stood up as the final duel concluded and walked to Godfrey's side.
"My King." Karo bowed slightly in greeting.
A flicker of annoyance passed through Godfrey's eyes. Karo had interrupted his high, and even though this was scheduled, the King's mood soured slightly. However, at a subtle nudge from Serosh on his back, Godfrey restrained any impulse and gave a curt, regal nod.
At the same time, High Bishop Wenger of the Erdtree Church approached from the other side.
"Champions from afar!" Karo called out, spreading his arms wide. "I am Karo Finger, Pontiff of the Two Fingers. I express our heartfelt gratitude to those of you joining the Golden Dynasty. The Great Two Fingers have prepared everything for you. Follow me, and receive the Grace of the Erdtree!"
Wenger stepped forward as well, his voice booming with authority. "I am High Bishop Wenger Shalu. I welcome your arrival. By the command of Marika the Eternal, I shall bestow upon you the blessing of the Erdtree. Do not resist the power that is about to enter you."
As they spoke, a faint golden light began to shimmer from both men. As seconds ticked by, the glow intensified until it transformed into two brilliant pillars of gold shooting straight toward the Erdtree high above.
The two leaders turned to face each other, joining their hands to form a ritual circle.
Flash—!
A second later, brilliant golden radiance exploded outward, accurately seeking out every warrior in the arena. The field was suddenly awash in a sea of gold—a literal display of "light pollution" on a grand scale.
In the sewers below, Mohg paused his lobster-catching as he saw the golden flash filter through the vents. He watched it for a second, his eyes flickering, before turning back to his prey.
Back on the surface, the golden light slowly receded. The warriors stood revealed once more.
The change was immediate. Every person's pupils now glowed with a faint, steady golden light. They could feel a terrifying surge of energy coursing through their veins. Oslo clenched his fist, feeling the sheer volume of power within him. He felt confident that if he fought Geloros again, he could hold his own for a significant amount of time.
Defeat him? No, he wasn't that arrogant yet. Now that he understood the power of Grace, he understood even more clearly just how powerful the Crucible Knights and the First Lord truly were. His journey was only beginning.
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (115 Chapters – Ongoing)
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