"Human... you have violated our agreement. You have slaughtered my kin!"
"Hm?"
Mohg, who had been bracing for an attack, was momentarily taken aback to hear the Beastman speak in the common tongue of the Lands Between.
He had assumed that such a race would be incapable of human speech, but upon reflection, he realized he was merely falling victim to his own stereotypes. After all, his experience with Beastmen was limited; the few he had encountered had been cut down before a word could be exchanged, and he hadn't seen a single one from Farum Azula since.
In truth, among those who served and worshiped the Ancient Dragons, there existed beings known as Sages.
Through long years of devotion, these Beastmen were often touched by the power of the Ancient Dragons themselves. They learned Ancient Dragon Incantations and wielded primordial strength. Even their bodies changed, setting them apart from the rest of their kind.
The one standing before Mohg now displayed several such traits. Its eyes were beginning to shift into vertical slits, and patches of its fur were turning a distinct, snowy white.
Furthermore, this Beastman appeared relatively young. The ancient denizens of the sky city often had thinning fur and visible bone structure, their features worn away by the relentless erosion of the storms that plagued Farum Azula until they were horrific to behold.
"It seems you struck a deal with the local lord," Mohg said, giving a slight shake of his head. "Unfortunately for you, I am not one of his men."
He flourished Rellana's greatsword and lowered his center of gravity, settling into a combat stance.
The Beastman's expression twisted into a snarl. With a gutteral roar, it hurled its massive curved cleaver.
The blade whistled through the air, spinning like a gargantuan, lethal boomerang as it carved an arc toward Mohg's head.
Splash—!
Mohg gestured sharply with the sphere of blood in his left hand. In an instant, the liquid expanded into a wall of gore, slamming into the flying blade to sap its momentum.
Simultaneously, the Beastman lunged. It dropped to all fours just before impact, propelling itself forward like a launched bolt.
Mohg remained vigilant. He retracted his left hand, and a strand of the blood wall whipped back to him, coalescing into a long, crimson spear.
Harnessing the immense strength of his physical form, Mohg coiled his arm and threw.
The Beastman's primal instincts screamed a warning. In a flash of narrowing pupils, the creature slammed its right limbs into the ground, pivoting its entire body mid-charge.
Boom!
The Beastman spun through the air, landing on all fours to cushion the impact of its evasive maneuver.
"So, you dodged it," Mohg remarked.
He reached out and caught the handle of the returning cleaver as it passed by, then turned his calm gaze toward the Beastman.
The creature was beginning to feel the crushing weight of the pressure Mohg exerted. Cold sweat dripped from its brow. A horrific gash now marred its right flank—a souvenir from Mohg's blood spear.
The blood in the air converged once more upon Mohg's left hand, flowing over his arm with a luster like polished rubies.
"The craftsmanship of this cleaver is quite fine," Mohg noted conversationally. "I imagine it requires a specific set of martial arts to truly unlock its potential?"
The Beastman blinked, stunned that Mohg would pivot to such a trivial topic in the middle of a life-or-death struggle. It didn't take the bait, its face remaining grim.
"What are you trying to say?"
"Become my subordinate. Serve me. Offer me your martial skill and the secrets of your smithing, and I will let you live."
"Beastmen who serve the Ancient Dragons shall never be slaves!"
The offer acted like a spark to a powder keg. The Beastman's eyes turned blood-red as it bristled with fury. Abandoning all fear of death, it let out a final, deafening roar.
Its muscles bulged, a faint red glow radiating from its skin. In a heartbeat, it crossed the fifteen-meter gap between them.
"ROAR!"
Suddenly, there was a flash of crimson. The Beastman's figure was sent flying backward at an even greater speed, until it was slammed violently into the cavern wall.
Only then did its condition become clear.
Its limbs and shoulder blades had been skewered by spikes of blood from Mohg's left hand. These spikes had embedded themselves into the rock before sprouting into thorns that bound the creature tightly.
Worse yet, the power of the Accursed Blood was coursing through its veins. It was a form of torture of the highest order.
"HUMAN!!!"
Mohg dug a finger into his ear to block out the indignant screaming. With a wave of his hand, the blood-thorns wrapped around the creature's mouth, sealing it shut.
Maintaining the blood binding with one hand, Mohg walked over to the pile of corpses. He began to chant under his breath.
"O, great Blood Deity... Mother of Truth, hidden within blood and pain... I beseech Thy gaze..."
A moment later, the crest of the Blood Dynasty manifested. The blood of the Mother of Truth seeped into the world, slowly breaking down and absorbing the Beastman's body into its essence.
The thorns binding the creature constricted. Though its mouth was sealed, the Beastman let out a muffled, agonizing whimpering.
Seeing that the process was nearly complete, Mohg ceased the torture. He beckoned with his hand, pulling the creature toward him, and ended it with a single sweep of his greatsword.
Sensing the power bestowed by the Mother of Truth and the growth of his own spiritual essence, Mohg nodded in quiet satisfaction. He then offered the remaining blood in the cave as a sacrifice through the sigil.
With that, every trace of the Beastmen—bodies and blood alike—was scrubbed from the cave. It was a perfect, divine method of destroying evidence.
As Mohg stepped out of the cave, he sensed the presence of Holuf and the others nearby.
After confirming they had reached the outskirts of the Gatefront town, he released a tiny thread of his own aura.
Immediately, Holuf and his men stiffened. Their heads snapped toward the forest where Mohg waited, and they began to sprint toward him from their various positions.
Meanwhile, within the town, Count Nibla was resting with his eyes closed inside his manor. Suddenly, his eyes—as sharp as a hawk's—snapped open.
He strode to the window in a few quick steps.
"That sensation just now... an unfamiliar aura... Guards! To me!"
────────────────────────────────────────
Support me here: https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (383 Chapters – Ongoing)
Join the journey and become part of the story!
────────────────────────────────────────