"Your companion doesn't seem to be doing too well..."
Mohg's lips curled into a slight smirk as he gently stroked the blade of his rapier, glancing at the man who had just received a deep gash to his side.
The man's face darkened instantly. He stole a look at his wound, which was pulsing with a searing, stinging pain. It wasn't like a normal burn; typically, a cauterized wound would stop bleeding, but his was currently gushing blood at an alarming rate. It was unnatural.
"You've certainly managed to piss me off. You're nothing but half-breed bastards. To me, you're no different from those lowly Misbegotten."
Mohg simply let out a disdainful laugh.
"Bastards? In the mere two years since my birth, I have attained power that far surpasses yours. I was born into this world graced by grace. If I am a bastard, what does that make you? A low, pathetic grave robber who dares to bark in my presence?!"
"You are nothing but a man waiting for his head to be taken. I, Mohg, Omen-born of the Golden Dynasty, shall never feel shame for my identity. This is a blessing bestowed upon me by the Primordial Crucible of life!"
As he finished speaking, Mohg's feet suddenly exerted a violent force, accompanied by a sharp explosion and flying shards of stone. A brilliant golden light erupted from his outstretched left hand.
Aspects of the Crucible: Thorns!
Whoosh—
In an instant, a terrifying thorn shot forward from Mohg's hand. Wrapped in immense power, it tore through the air and lunged straight for the man's chest.
Clang!
The sound of metal clashing rang out. The man looked at Mohg with sheer horror; his greatshield had been pierced through, the thorn stopping only a hair's breadth from his heart.
Without giving his opponent a moment to breathe, a familiar golden glow surfaced on Mohg's shoulder. He twisted his torso to adjust his stance. A thunderous sound erupted as the wings on Mohg's back unfurled, and in the next heartbeat, golden light flickered beneath his feet.
Aspects of the Crucible: Horns! Aspects of the Crucible: Tail!
Bang!
Mohg's figure vanished from the spot, leaving behind two deep craters in the floor. The ground shattered as a white shockwave surged in all directions.
"AAAAAGH!!!"
A hardened horn tore through the greatshield once more, plunging directly into the man's shoulder. Crying out in agony, the man desperately swung the longsword in his other hand at Mohg.
Mohg's eyes flickered. He exerted sudden pressure with his right shoulder, bucking the greatshield upward. That overwhelming burst of strength caused the man to lose all balance and control over his body.
Flash—
In the next second, a blood-red light surged from below. Mohg's left hand, curved into a claw, swept upward like a streak of light, landing with deadly precision on the man's head.
Crack!
The sickening sound of a skull fracturing filled the air. The man was instantly transformed into a bloody mess, as countless fountains of blood erupted from his body and drenched the floor.
"A sacrifice offered to thee..." Mohg muttered the name of the Formless Mother in his heart before tossing the man's corpse aside like a piece of trash.
Having finished, Mohg turned his head to look at the only person left on the field who was still relatively intact.
"Eek!!!"
Seeing Mohg look his way, the survivor shrieked in terror. Shaking uncontrollably, he began to back away slowly.
Thud!
After hitting a solid obstruction, the man looked up stiffly. A pair of golden eyes stared down at him with absolute indifference.
"Where do you think you're going? You insect, who dared to think of polluting the resting place of the Golden Dynasty's warriors with your filthy hands."
Clatter!
Extreme fear caused the man to drop his weapon and collapse onto the ground, his face a mask of despair.
"To think you were a subject blessed by the Gold, yet you committed such despicable acts... You deserve death!"
As Morgott spoke, a golden longsword condensed in his hand once more, and he swung it downward toward the man.
Clang!
Just as the man closed his eyes, certain of his impending death, a crisp sound rang out. Mohg had used a longsword he just picked up from the ground to block Morgott's strike.
Meeting Morgott's questioning gaze, Mohg simply walked slowly toward the man.
"Tell me. Where did you enter the sewers from?"
Gulp.
Looking at Mohg's face so close to his own, the man couldn't help but swallow hard.
"If... if I tell you, will you let me go?"
"I can grant you a painless death," Mohg replied coldly, shaking his head.
"You bastard! Then why the hell should I tell you!" Driven by the desperation of a death threat, the man suddenly found a spark of defiance and roared at Mohg in a rage.
"Heh."
Mohg merely let out a cold chuckle. He walked over to the man whom Morgott had sent flying with a tail-swipe earlier. That man was leaning painfully against the wall with broken ribs, his face filled with dread as Mohg approached.
As someone who hadn't participated in the final clash, he had seen clearly how the fight with their leader had gone. It was a complete slaughter. Even when facing other Omen-children, they had never been so helpless, yet before this one, they hadn't even been able to land a hit.
If Mohg knew what the man was thinking, he would have only wondered what had given them the confidence to compare themselves to the Omen-born in the first place.
Without waiting for the man to speak, Mohg reached out and grabbed his head.
Boom!
Instantly, Bloodflame erupted from Mohg's palm. The intense, searing pain caused the man to scream in agony. He reached up with both hands, clutching Mohg's arm and struggling frantically.
But that wasn't even the most painful part. As the Bloodflame gradually seeped into him, an indescribable itch began to bloom within his body. It was a terrifying sensation, as if the very blood in his veins was squirming and crawling.
The feeling intensified rapidly. Soon, blood began to leak from every pore of his body, dyeing him completely red.
"Kill... kill... me..." A weak, broken voice escaped from beneath Mohg's hand. Seeing that it was enough, Mohg exerted a sudden burst of strength.
Crack.
With the deed done, Mohg turned back to the sole survivor.
"Now then, what is your answer?"
"Ugh... I... I'll tell you..."
The man looked at Mohg, drenched in a cold sweat. He tried to speak but found he was too terrified to make a sound. After a moment of regaining his composure, he bowed his head in total despair and agreed.
Beside them, Morgott watched Mohg's methods with a thoughtful expression. That power... it didn't seem to be the strength of Cursed Blood?
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📖Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (163 Chapters – Ongoing)
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