"In theory, the best way to torment you would be to leave you here to rot, trapped in a cycle of starvation and the fleeting relief of a kill. But then... you've already lost every shred of what it means to be human, haven't you?"
With Morgott having stepped outside to wait, Mohg approached the prison bars, tilting his head as he watched the inmates with cold curiosity. He could see the saliva dripping from the corner of the mouth of the prisoner standing closest to the gate.
"It seems I was overthinking things..."
Mohg shook his head, abandoning any further attempt to communicate with these "beasts." He reached out, gripped the iron gate, and violently ripped it from its hinges.
BOOM!
The thunderous crash echoed through the ward. The prisoners, who had been huddled in the shadows to conserve their strength, widened their eyes in shock. They dragged themselves to their feet, their lips curling into predatory, jagged grins.
"Ha... ha..."
The sound of ragged, heavy breathing filled Mohg's ears from every direction.
"ROAR!"
With the iron gate no longer barring the way, the lead prisoner let out a subhuman howl and lunged at Mohg with his mouth agape.
Swish—Thud!
A dark blur flashed before the inmates' eyes, followed by a sickening crack. When the dust settled, they saw their comrade's head impaled against the stone wall by a heavy iron staff, his body pinned in place.
The surrounding prisoners recoiled. The threat of immediate death gave them pause, despite the gnawing hunger that had eroded their sanity. Their strength was a mere fraction of what it once was; facing an Omen this clearly abnormal was a suicide mission.
"There is no need for us to fight to the death, is there? You are outcasts of the Golden Dynasty, and we are its prisoners. We share a common enemy. Why not let us go?"
Suddenly, a man who still retained some semblance of muscle mass stepped forward and addressed Mohg.
"Ah... 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'?"
"Exactly," the man nodded, encouraged by Mohg's words.
"If this were another timeline, I might have agreed. But unfortunately, I don't believe you are fit to be my subordinates."
Mohg shook his head with mock regret. He flicked his left hand, and a sharp gash appeared across his palm.
Splash—
A moment later, blood—crimson with flecks of gold—gushed from his hand.
"Since you were so hungry... let your own blood mask the traces of this place..."
As the words left his lips, a massive scythe forged from congealed blood manifested in his grip.
Outside, Morgott caught the scent of heavy, copper-thick blood. It felt strangely familiar, but before he could dwell on it, a chorus of shrill, agonizing screams erupted from the prison. The stench of blood grew thicker by the second.
Whoosh—
Mohg spun the blood-scythe in a lethal arc, looking at the dozen or so prisoners still standing. The others were already on the ground. Without exception, Mohg had severed their limbs, using his Bloodflame to cauterize the stumps and stop the bleeding.
"A demon... you're a demon!!!"
Driven to a state of hysterical terror, one prisoner charged at Mohg with a desperate roar.
"AAAAHHH!"
Bloodflame Strike!
Mohg's scythe blurred in the air, carving several crimson arcs through the dim light.
Boom!
"Agh! Agggh!"
As the blood-light and flames dissipated, another "human stick" slumped to the floor. The remaining prisoners looked on, their faces twisted in horror. The greed they had felt for Mohg's flesh had been utterly replaced by bone-deep dread.
"What's wrong? Weren't you just shouting about how you wanted to taste an Omen? Weren't you going to eat me?"
Mohg dragged the scythe across the stone floor, sparks flying as he closed in on them, a playful, cruel smile on his face.
"Kill him! It's our only chance!!"
Swish—
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!"
...
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"I take it you've finished dealing with those dregs," Morgott said as Mohg slowly emerged from the ward.
"More or less," Mohg nodded.
"What did you do to them?"
"Nothing much. I just turned them into human sticks and left the doors open."
Mohg shrugged nonchalantly. Morgott's cheek twitched at the casual delivery of such brutality.
"Forget it... they were beyond redemption anyway. Let's move."
Mohg nodded, but he kept one thing to himself: his actions had once again caught the attention of the Formless Mother. After he had dealt with the prisoners, She had bestowed another blessing upon him. His cruelty had clearly pleased Her.
Unintentionally, he had raised his favor with the Formless Mother by another point.
Returning to the center of the pipes, the two arrived back at the previous crossroads.
"Let's take this path."
As they ventured deeper, both brothers felt a growing sense of unease. It was a source of irritability that gnawed at their very souls, a repulsion stemming from the Golden Grace within them. Their bodies were physically rejecting the proximity to this area.
"What is this feeling?" Morgott frowned, looking at Mohg in confusion.
"I don't know. The structural map only shows an elevator and a catacomb hall further down. There's nothing else marked."
Morgott's frown deepened. Was there something hidden beneath this place?
"There's a ladder ahead."
Morgott looked up and saw a ladder at the end of the pipe.
"It seems we've reached our destination."
Without further hesitation, they climbed down. The area was empty save for one Great Jar and a few smaller Living Jars.
"That must be the elevator to the lower levels. But it looks like it can only hold one person at a time."
"Mm. I can just fly down, though. It shouldn't be an issue."
Mohg nodded. He walked to the edge of the elevator shaft and looked up. He noticed small holes lining the walls of the shaft at various heights. His mouth twitched; he realized that if he had tried to fly down directly earlier, he likely would have been shot into a pincushion by traps.
"You go down first. I'll keep watch here for a bit."
"Alright."
Morgott nodded and stepped onto the elevator platform. Mohg, meanwhile, walked over to the side of the Great Jar.
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (185 Chapters – Ongoing)
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