"These grave robbers are certainly brazen enough..."
Back within the sewers, Mohg traced the blast marks left on a jagged hole in the wall. He then stepped through the opening, entering a different sewage canal on the other side.
"They aren't just blowing holes all over the place, are they?" Morgott asked, his brow furrowed in disapproval.
"It's possible. But for us, it's actually a stroke of luck—it saves us a lot of travel time," Mohg replied. He looked down at the structural map. "Yeah, taking this route they blasted open lets us skip a few circles through the pipework."
Mohg made a quick mark on the wall with his finger before continuing forward. "If we're quick, we might even run into those rats. After all... we're heading to the same place they are."
"I doubt it. They've likely been gone from this area for quite a while," Morgott said, shaking his head as he kept pace with Mohg.
Mohg ducked his head slightly to pass through an iron gate, entering a corridor that led toward their destination. The end of this passage opened directly back into the main pipe system.
"It looks like we've reached an area that wasn't primarily designed for drainage."
"A penal colony for prisoners?" Morgott asked. He entered the area cautiously, scanning the surroundings. He paused when he spotted a few blood-stained linen cloths scattered on the ground.
"Yeah. I can smell humans. I don't think the road ahead will be a lonely one," Mohg said with a nod. He then squeezed the glowing stone in his hand—the one infused with Morgott's power for light—crushing it into dust.
Over the past year, they had fully adapted to the darkness of the sewers. Their night vision was now perfect, making artificial light unnecessary. They had only been using it out of habit; now that they needed to be discreet, Mohg snuffed out the source.
"Adapting to the dark is our advantage. In this environment, we are much safer."
"Keep your weapon ready. Nothing is unexpected in a place like this," Morgott remarked, glancing at Mohg before resting a hand on the hilt of the longsword at his waist. He used to think carrying a physical blade was unnecessary, but he had since changed his mind. In a pitch-black environment, his usual method of conjuring glowing weapons was simply too conspicuous.
"If you ever return to the Golden Dynasty one day... would you build your own following? Your own subordinates?" Mohg asked suddenly.
"I would."
This time, Morgott didn't hesitate or dodge the question. He gave his answer directly.
"Oh? And what kind of force do you plan to build?" Mohg looked at him with curiosity, though his eyes suggested he already had a guess.
"A force that guards the Golden Dynasty from the shadows. If the Tree Sentinels are the bright, shining leaves of the Dynasty on the surface, then my force shall be the roots of the Erdtree, buried deep underground."
I'll be damned... Danzo, is that you? Mohg thought to himself.
"Is that all?"
"Yes. That is all."
Morgott nodded. In his mind, the main forces on the surface would naturally be managed and led by their older brother, Godwyn. He saw no need to meddle in those affairs.
"There's something ahead," Mohg whispered, cutting Morgott off. Morgott immediately shifted his gaze forward.
"It's just slimes..."
"Should we go around?"
"Ugh... what a pain. Let's just be careful and step over them." Mohg shook his head. He had zero desire to actually fight those things.
Slimes were like stones in a latrine—stinking and stubborn. Killing them required elemental attacks, specifically fire. Mohg's Bloodflame was the perfect solution, but starting a fire and making a scene in a place like this was no different from screaming his location at the top of his lungs. It wasn't worth exposing themselves just to clear out a few slimes.
Besides, they were slow and hit like wet noodles. They weren't a real threat; the only reason to avoid them was the sheer filth. After all, slimes were primarily composed of corpses and sludge. And the "corpses" weren't just the bodies on the ground—it included things that had been eaten by other monsters and then... excreted.
As Mohg was stepping over one, the slime actually had the gall to poke him in the back. Though it did no real damage, Mohg's face darkened instantly.
The rest of the trek was peaceful. Relying on their night vision and the structural map, the two navigated out of the area without issue. They didn't even see a shadow of the prisoners. It was unclear if they were just on a route no one used, or if the prisoners had all fled these pipes for the surface.
"If this area was designated for exile, the main entrance to the sewers shouldn't be far, right?"
"Probably. I've already marked this zone on the map. If we're bored in the future, we can come back and scout it properly."
Morgott nodded and moved on. As he left, Mohg cast a sideways glance toward a specific spot in the piping.
Only after Mohg had also disappeared into the gloom did a scrawny figure slowly poke its head out from behind a stack of wooden crates.
"Two... two Omen-born I've never seen before. And they can talk. Terrifying... simply terrifying... But that one in the back seemed to notice me. Why didn't he kill me...?"
"Are you sure it's this way?" Morgott asked tentatively, turning to Mohg.
Under Mohg's lead, the two had crawled into another pipe, this one filled with a mass of slugs. Fortunately, there was nothing else inside besides the slow-moving gastropods.
"Yeah. If the map isn't wrong, it's right here. We're almost at our destination; it's just ahead." Mohg pointed toward the front. "See? What did I tell you?"
Morgott looked and saw a heavily locked iron gate standing quietly in the dark. He jogged up to it and gave it a once-over before shaking his head.
"It won't work. This gate is locked tight. It's rusted and aged, and some parts are so warped that it can't be opened anymore."
"What kind of nonsense are you talking?"
Mohg looked at Morgott with a bizarre expression. Then, he simply reached out and grabbed the iron gate with his massive hands.
CRASH!
With a thunderous boom, the locked, warped iron gate was ripped clean off its hinges by Mohg's raw strength.
"Opening a door shouldn't be such an inconvenient affair. Don't let your thinking get so rigid," Mohg said as he tossed the gate aside.
Morgott's face went dark, but he had to admit—this time, he had been the slow one.
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