"Truly... these are troubled times," Mohg sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
He still couldn't wrap his head around that captain. The man clearly possessed immense strength, yet he wasn't among the ranks of the Carian Knights. In Mohg's estimation, while the captain might not have reached the peak of a true knight's power yet, he wasn't far off. With a few more years of experience, he would easily earn his place among them.
So, why was such a capable warrior stationed in a peripheral, backwater town? Wouldn't it be better to have him guarding the Academy or protecting the heart of the Royal territory?
Soaring through the sky, Mohg shook his head. He couldn't decipher the reasoning, so he chose to stop dwelling on it. Finding Liana was the priority now, especially after that unexpected encounter with the Carian captain had delayed him. He'd lost track of the Academy sorcerer and the Cuckoo Knight, so he might as well head straight to Liana's camp.
He wondered just how much her "movement" had grown since he last saw her.
Suddenly, as Mohg was banking toward Liana's general direction, he felt a pull—someone below was praying to him!
He paused mid-flight, his silhouette hovering for a moment before he began a slow descent, tucking in his wings. He wanted to see who had the "good taste" to join the Mohgwyn Dynasty. Truth be told, he hadn't yet formally met any of the followers Liana had blessed; he'd only caught glimpses of them during their prayers.
This was a perfect opportunity to observe the situation and understand the difference between those he blessed personally and those blessed through an intermediary. From what he understood, a blood-faith believer could begin bestowing blessings once they reached a certain level of devotion—unlike the convoluted requirements of the Erdtree or the Frenzied Flame.
Well, I suppose the Frenzied Flame isn't that complicated, Mohg thought. Once you're infected with the madness, you're 'blessed' in a way...
Before long, Mohg touched down. Passing through a patch of woods, he came upon a clearing where a blood-soaked man was kneeling on one knee. The man held a severed head high toward the sky.
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne! O Great Lord of Blood... Your loyal follower begs for Your blessing and Your strength..."
Mohg fell into a stunned silence. No matter how he looked at it, this scene did not look like the work of the good guys.
Sigh. My heart is weary. To think that someone as righteous as I am has followers who look like this... it truly brings a tear to my eye.
Mohg clutched his chest with a look of mock heartbreak before schooling his features into a mask of cold indifference. He stepped out from the shadows and approached the believer.
Sensing someone's arrival, the man quickly dropped the head and snatched up the greatsword lying beside him. However, the moment he saw Mohg, he froze. Within seconds, his expression transformed into one of manic fervor.
"Ahhh!!! O Great Lord of Blood!!! You... You have deigned to descend and stand before me!!!"
"Are these the sacrifices you offer me?" Mohg asked, walking toward the pile of corpses.
"Yes! A pack of formidable mountain bandits! Only the blood of powerful warriors is worthy of being offered to You!"
Hearing this, Mohg's mood actually improved. He had been worried that his followers would turn into a bunch of degenerates who slaughtered innocents for fun. It seemed his concerns were misplaced—at least for now.
As for whether showing his true form would cause a crisis of faith due to his Omen appearance... Mohg wasn't worried. Blood faith was, after all, a derivative of horn worship. Besides, these people had already turned their backs on the Erdtree; his looks were a minor detail. As long as he possessed the power to suppress any dissent, everything would be fine.
"I am satisfied with your deeds. I shall grant you a boon..."
Mohg reached out and pressed a finger against the man's forehead. Under his guidance, a flicker of power—drawn directly from the Mother of Truth—surged into the believer's body.
"Ngh!"
For a moment, a wave of sharp pain rippled through the man's system. But it vanished as quickly as it had come. He looked down at his palms in wonder. A small flame of crimson fire ignited in his hand—the power of the Cursed Blood!
"Thank You, Merciful Lord of Blood! I offer my everything to You!"
"Tell me your name."
"Mashula! I swear to the Blood God that I shall bring You more blood and more glory!"
Mashula dropped back to one knee, placing a hand over his heart in a formal knight's salute. Mohg nodded in satisfaction. He began to understand the desires of followers like Mashula: they craved the blood of the strong, held the blood of the weak in contempt, and sought the glory of battle—viewing the pain of combat as a sacred honor.
"Very well, Mashula. Tell me... where is your base of operations? And where is Liana?"
"My Lord, Your warriors and Your Witch are currently stationed in a cavern south of Liurnia of the Lakes. We are gathering our strength there. The Mistress has been planning to set out and find You; we have all been waiting for Your return!"
Mohg's face lit up with a look of genuine joy. Finally, a clear answer.
"Mashula, lead me there. I have important matters to announce."
"By Your command!"
"Moon, why did you suddenly fire a signal flare?"
Sometime later, a man clad in the silver-and-blue armor of a Carian Knight arrived at the small town on horseback.
"Rick. I didn't expect you to be the one to respond," Moon said, stepping out from the crowd of soldiers.
"We'll catch up later. Tell me what happened here that warranted a signal flare," Rick said, waving a hand and looking up at the lingering blue trail of the flare in the sky.
"I was settling a tax dispute with the Academy when I noticed someone watching from the shadows. We clashed. The stranger's strength was immense. To be honest, if he hadn't been so intent on leaving, I suspect I wouldn't have been his match."
"Any defining features? A specific fighting style?" Rick's expression grew serious. A new powerhouse appearing out of nowhere was never good news, especially since the lake region had been unsettled lately.
There were rumors of a group operating in the shadows, hunting down capable warriors—be they bandits, Cuckoo soldiers, Carian soldiers, or Academy mages. This mysterious faction would strike, kill, and leave behind strange ritualistic marks... and corpses completely drained of blood.
"Yes. The attacker could suddenly manifest tails, horns, and feathers. And every time he used those powers, he was enveloped in a golden light. It looked like the power of Incantations, but I couldn't make out the sigil of the order."
"...Isn't it obvious then?"
Rick looked at Moon with a flat, unimpressed expression. He then turned his gaze toward the horizon.
Under the vast sky, the radiant, shimmering Erdtree stood tall, casting its golden light over the world.
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (274 Chapters – Ongoing)
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