"Ugh!"
Mohg gritted his teeth as Morgott pulled the arrow from his back. He gripped the bloodied shaft tightly in his hand.
"Those damn bastards!"
"The catacombs aren't safe anymore. We need to find a way out as soon as possible," Morgott said, placing his hand over the wound on Mohg's back, his power slowly knitting the flesh back together.
"I don't plan on just swallowing this insult," Mohg replied, feeling the wound close. He glanced at Morgott. "No matter what, these catacombs are our home turf. If we play this right, we can leave those grave robbers buried here forever!"
"And how do you plan to do that? We only know this place slightly better than they do," Morgott said, frowning as he looked at his brother.
Mohg's gaze shifted slowly toward a nearby Imp that was still pretending to be a stone statue.
While Mohg and Morgott were plotting, the group on the other side had reconvened.
"This tomb is likely larger than we ever imagined..." Edwin remarked, pocketing some Runes he had scavenged from a nearby corpse.
"It is the Royal Capital's catacombs, after all. Where did those two Omens run off to?" Rip asked casually, his eyes landing on Calot.
"They ducked into that corridor over there. There's a fire-breathing trap in the way that I couldn't get past, so I had to wait for the rest of you," Calot explained, crossing his arms.
"Pohl, you're up. This is your specialty."
Pohl nodded and walked slowly toward the entrance of the corridor. After observing the fire-breathing pillar in the distance for a moment, he walked back.
"It's a mechanism made of a special material, likely a craft similar to those Imps. It's also protected by some sort of external power, making it difficult to destroy by brute force."
"So, what's the solution?"
"Well, there should be a pressure plate or a switch on its body to shut it down. That's where Edwin comes in." Pohl turned his gaze toward Edwin.
"Yeah, yeah... I really am a glutton for punishment, aren't I?" Edwin sighed. He finished gathering Runes from the corpse and stepped forward. As he raised his bow, a faint white light flickered in his eyes.
Eagle Eye!
Whiz— Thwack!
"Well?"
Edwin didn't speak immediately. Instead, he gave his finger a flashy twirl before pointing forward.
Rumble...
The sound of the mechanism lowering echoed through the hall. "When I take a shot, there are no accidents."
"If you could just fix that personality of yours, I actually think you'd make a decent warrior," Calot remarked as he strode toward the end of the hall, passing Edwin.
"Then I wouldn't be me," Edwin replied with a shrug.
"Alright, enough talk. Let's find the main burial chamber and the lever to the heavy doors."
"The burial chamber? Wasn't it right by the entrance? I don't know who broke the seal on those doors, but I really want to thank them," Edwin said, looking at Rip with confusion.
"I don't think it's that simple. They wouldn't put the main chamber in such an obvious spot. Didn't we see an elevator going up back where we came from? And the direction those Omens went leads to a second floor. I bet the chamber we saw was just a decoy to draw attention."
Rip's words gave the group pause.
"Regardless, let's check the upper level first, then we go after those two Omens," Calot decided.
The group changed direction and headed up. However, it wasn't long before they came sprinting back down, looking utterly disheveled.
"That's not right! What the hell were those things?!" Edwin gasped, leaning against a wall and panting heavily, his face pale with shock.
"Spirits... those were spirits of Leyndell soldiers..." Rip added, breathless.
"The undead? Remnants from an ancient era?" Calot asked, looking at the countless arrow marks denting his shield.
"No. If they were undead, my Incantations would have been far more effective. Those are manifestations used by the tomb itself to protect this place," Pohl said, shaking his head and dismissing Calot's theory.
"There must be someone or something controlling those spirits in that area. Notice how we're safe the moment we stepped back down? It means they can only operate within that specific zone."
"Forget it. There's no point obsessing over that place. There wasn't anything particularly valuable there anyway. Let's just go the other way," Edwin said, shaking his head vigorously. When the fight broke out, he had dashed into the deepest part of the area, only to find a lever and a ladder leading nowhere special.
He suspected that might be the actual entrance to the catacombs, and he had zero interest in exploring a route that didn't smell like profit.
The others didn't argue. At this point, tangling with those spirits seemed like an exercise in futility. Pohl remained silent, finding their bickering nothing but noise.
"Alright, the preparations are mostly complete. Now we just wait for those guys to show up."
Mohg rubbed his shoulder and gave a satisfied pat to the "big brother" standing in front of him.
The figure stood over three meters tall, its body covered in hardened, gnarled horns. It possessed the power of wraith-calling and held an Omen Cleaver—a weapon gifted by the Golden Lineage. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
This was easily one of the most formidable combatants in these underground catacombs.
In response to Mohg's pat, the Omen reached out and silently moved Mohg's hand away, giving him a look of mild confusion.
Mohg couldn't help but marvel; this Omen brother he had encountered in the depths was truly the most good-natured Omen he had ever met.
The reason for this temperament was simple: the creature was a believer in Marika. He spent his years praying before the statues of Marika within the catacombs. Since Mohg and Morgott were of the same race and carried the scent of Marika's lineage, he didn't view them as enemies.
Looking at the situation, Mohg didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the irony. An Omen, persecuted by Marika, was now a devoted follower of Marika...
The Hornsent persecuted the Numen, Marika persecuted the Omens, and the Omens worshipped Marika...
Whatever... as long as this situation works in my favor...
With that thought, Mohg led the massive Omen toward the entrance, scooping up a few Imps along the way to tuck into his arms.
Meanwhile, Morgott had gone off to "recruit" more help. They were planning something big for the grave robbers—a way to split them up. If they could wipe them all out in one go, so much the better.
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (211 Chapters – Ongoing)
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