"The power you used just now... it didn't seem to be the strength of Cursed Blood?" Morgott asked, turning to look at Mohg.
Mohg paused for a moment before offering an explanation. "No, it is the power of Cursed Blood. I've simply developed a deeper mastery over it, allowing it to be more than just a supplementary method for attacks."
As he spoke, Mohg summoned a cluster of Bloodflame condensed from Cursed Blood into his palm. Its appearance and effect were nearly identical to the Bloodflame incantations used by the Mohgwyn Dynasty in the future.
In his hands, these elements created a sort of "chemical reaction." When Cursed Blood and Bloodflame merged, they exploded with even greater power—whether it was the force of the blast, the lingering burn, or the sheer lethality of the hemorrhage effect, the results were terrifying.
Morgott studied the flickering Bloodflame in Mohg's hand and let out a small sigh of admiration. "It seems your talent for the power of the Primordial Crucible is far superior to mine..."
"Everyone has their strengths," Mohg replied. "Just like your natural affinity for Golden Incantations. So far, I've only managed to learn the basics. That power is something we will both master eventually; you simply need a bit more time."
Morgott nodded, letting the matter drop.
In front of them, the surviving man led the way in silence. As for the idea of escaping... Mohg's hand hadn't left the man's shoulder since they started walking. After navigating through the pipes and ascending for what felt like an eternity, a sliver of light finally appeared ahead of them.
A man-sized pipe loomed before them, and at its far end sat an exit leading out of the sewers and into the surface world.
"I've done... I've done what you asked..."
The man barely finished his sentence before Mohg acted. With a flick of his wrist, a surge of blood-power instantly shredded the man's heart. He died in a heartbeat, feeling nothing at all. Along the way, Mohg had used his own blood to mark the exit on his structural map, keeping it as a reference for future use.
"So this is where those grave robbers broke in..." Morgott muttered, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the opening. Mohg immediately recognized the look in his brother's eyes.
"You're thinking about burying this place, aren't you?" Mohg asked.
"Yes. Is there a problem?" Morgott nodded; he saw no reason to hide his intentions.
"There is. I don't agree," Mohg said, shaking his head.
"Why?" Morgott frowned, looking at Mohg with confusion. In his mind, sealing the exit would reduce outside interference, making them safer in the sewers while protecting the Leyndell Catacombs from being desecrated. It seemed like a win-win.
"I told you—one day, I'm going to leave this place and stand beneath the sun. Besides... I guarantee this isn't the only exit."
Mohg met Morgott's gaze. He wasn't foolish enough to run outside now; the Shackles on his body hadn't been dealt with yet, and he'd likely be hunted down instantly. Furthermore, the surface world wasn't necessarily safer than the sewers at the moment.
With Morgott's help and his own intimate knowledge of the Subterranean Shunning-Grounds, staying here to "level up" was the correct move. They could hold their own against average Omens now, but those were only the ones who had reached adulthood in a relatively sheltered environment.
After living in the sewers for so long, Mohg had learned one thing: there was a massive gap in strength between different Omens. It was the difference between a common Omen under Godrick's command and a high-tier Omen guarding the capital.
Morgott fell silent. He had always known his brother wanted to go outside. Deep down, he also yearned to bathe in the light of the Erdtree, but he viewed himself as a sinner and refused to allow himself that luxury. However, he couldn't bring himself to force his brother to share in his self-imposed penance.
"I'm not going out right now," Mohg said, sensing Morgott's internal struggle. "The world outside is too dangerous. Staying in the sewers is actually better for my growth."
"Besides," Mohg continued, "the fact that so many grave robbers have been frequenting the sewers lately suggests that someone is pulling the strings. A structural map like this shouldn't just 'fall' into the hands of outsiders so easily."
Morgott considered this and realized Mohg was right. Even if he destroyed this entrance, others would appear. It was better to leave it open and remain vigilant.
"I think we need to find a way to contact our Big Brother and tell him what we've found," Morgott suggested, thinking of Godwyn.
Mohg shook his head again. "I doubt Brother knows less than we do. He's likely already noticed, but for some reason, he hasn't taken action yet."
In truth, Mohg was right. Godwyn had noticed the maps circulating in the areas surrounding the capital and knew that mercenary groups were stirring. He hadn't acted yet because he feared it was a ploy to lure Leyndell's main forces away from the city.
Furthermore, the Leyndell Catacombs were no easy target. The traps and guardians stationed there were formidable—Erdtree Burial Watchdogs, swarms of imps, Omen-born guards, and Spirit-Caller Snails. That was more than enough to give any grave robber a nightmare. Most of them would likely fail to even find the entrance.
Until Godwyn understood the true motive of the mastermind behind the maps, he didn't plan on making any drastic moves.
"So, what now? Do we head back and continue exploring the lower levels?" Morgott asked.
"...I want to take a look outside first," Mohg said softly. "I haven't seen the outside world since the day I was born."
Morgott's heart twinged. "I... I'll go with you." He was in the same boat, after all.
The two brothers crouched low, shuffling slowly toward the exit. Soon, they caught the scent of air that was entirely different from the stagnant rot of the sewers.
"I can't remember the last time I breathed fresh air..."
"Those golden woods... they really are beautiful," Mohg whispered. He sat cross-legged at the edge of the pipe, soaking in the rare moment of peace while trying to gauge their location.
Based on the view, they were likely northeast of the Royal Capital. If they headed west from here, they would hit familiar territory. However, navigating the sewers was a different beast altogether; he'd have to rely on the map to find his way back underground.
As they sat there, Mohg felt the Shackles on his back begin to grow warm, as if reacting to their proximity to the capital's outskirts.
Morgott couldn't help but reach out a hand toward the opening, as if trying to touch the light from the world beyond.
"Let's go," Mohg said, standing up slowly. Without a hint of lingering attachment, he turned and walked back into the depths of the darkness.
He knew that the things outside didn't belong to him—not yet. But one day, he would walk out there for good, and he would make sure the whole world remembered his name.
Morgott took one last look at the light, then turned to follow his brother into the gloom. He craved warmth and light, but he would only do what his duty demanded. As an unacknowledged prince, the only thing he could do was protect the Capital and the Golden Dynasty from the shadows.
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