"Finished fighting?"
"Mm."
A burly man with silver hair and vertical pupils nodded, his body covered in wounds and dripping with fresh blood. He took a seat beside Lansseax.
"How did it go?" Lansseax didn't seem particularly concerned about his injuries. She casually plucked a blade of grass, stuck it in her mouth, and asked without even moving her head.
"A draw. But I can feel it—I am not his match. The stalemate was only because he allowed it to be so." Fortissax let out a heavy sigh and plopped down on the ground.
"Pathetic. Absolute bottom-tier behavior," Lansseax remarked.
Fortissax's face flushed a deep red. "If you're so confident, why don't you go up there?!"
"Because I'm not an idiot. I can't beat him, so why would I go up?" Lansseax looked at him as if he were a moron, which only made Fortissax more incensed. However, the stings from his current wounds reminded him that if he attacked her now, she would likely just pin him to the dirt and pummel him.
Unable to retaliate, Fortissax could only sit there and sulk.
"Wasn't your first encounter a true draw? Why are you getting worse as you go?" Lansseax asked.
Fortissax paused, then spoke with a calm, somber expression. "Back then, he likely still had old injuries. Wounds left by 'Big Brother.'"
Lansseax's expression shifted to one of realization. She patted the dust off her clothes and stood up.
"Hm? Where are you going?" Fortissax asked.
"Our kin and the Golden Lineage are about to reach a formal reconciliation, aren't they?"
"Yes. It won't be long now. We will become allies of the Golden Order, and you all can go to the Royal Capital as Ancient Dragon Priests to spread our faith."
"In that case, it's time for me to leave." Lansseax wiggled an eyebrow at him.
"What?! You're slacking off again?!" Fortissax bolted upright, standing before her with a face full of fury. But Lansseax's expression remained chillingly calm.
"You are willing to set aside your hatred and become an ally to the Golden Lineage. I am not. You are willing to live under the light of a modified Erdtree. I am not. I long for the warmth of our youth. Thus, I leave to seek the path I am meant to walk. Before, I had no choice. Now, I have the right to choose."
WHOOSH.
A blood-red flame erupted in Lansseax's palm. Crimson dragonbolts slowly coiled around it, merging into a bolt of pure, blood-red lightning.
"Perhaps the next time we meet, we shall be enemies, my brother. This is my choice. This is my path."
With those final words, Lansseax spread her wings and took flight, a sonic boom trailing behind as she vanished into the sky. Left behind, Fortissax stood in silence for a long time before slowly shaking his head.
"Whichever path we take, as long as one of us reaches the end, it will benefit our kin... at least we won't vanish from this world entirely..."
Meanwhile, on the other side...
"Mohg!"
"Lansseax? What is it?"
"I've officially broken up with Fortissax! Come pick me up!"
"???" Mohg scratched his head, feeling a migraine coming on. "Didn't we agree you'd contact me after the ceasefire?"
"I couldn't help myself, okay? What am I supposed to do? Whatever, you're my boss now. You have to take responsibility."
Lansseax was currently lying on the ground, looking up at him with a "dead pig unafraid of boiling water" expression.
"...Fine. But I have some rules you need to follow."
"Go on." Lansseax sat up and nodded.
"No using Dragonbolt, no showing your draconic features, and absolutely no transforming into an Ancient Dragon."
"Easy. I'm used to that." Lansseax waved a hand dismissively. She had spent plenty of time wandering the Lands Between in human form.
"Good. We're heading to Limgrave. I have work for you there."
"Limgrave? Isn't that the Storm Lord's territory? Is that where your main base is?"
"Don't make it sound so shady. It's a 'stronghold.'"
"Ha! Same thing, same thing."
Mohg let out a helpless sigh. "By the way, do the Ancient Dragons have any ties to the Stormgate Dynasty?"
"Some, but nothing deep. In the ancient past, they revered storms and lightning, and back then, we Ancient Dragons represented exactly that. You can see our influence in their clothing and equipment."
"So you weren't allies?"
"No. They revered the spiritual culture of storms and another deity. It was different from our faith. But because both sides were powerful and had no conflicting interests—and even cooperated occasionally—the relationship was decent. Now, though? There's no connection left."
"I see. Still, don't let your identity slip."
"...Do I look that unreliable to you?" Lansseax looked at him, genuinely miffed that he kept repeating himself. It felt like a blatant lack of trust!
"To be honest? A little bit, yeah."
"...Screw you!"
After a bit of bickering, Mohg finished preparing the blood pool. He sent a mental notification to Nibla and Horuf in Limgrave, telling them to get ready.
"What is it, Lord Nibla?" Lange asked, noticing Nibla suddenly snap his eyes open.
"...The Lord is coming."
"What?!"
BANG!
Horuf kicked open the door to the basement and barged in. "The Lord notified us to prepare! He's arriving through the blood pool!"
Under the mobilization of Nibla and Horuf, the blood pool was quickly replenished with spiritually-rich blood. The surrounding Blood Warriors began to chant their prayers. Lange joined in the chanting, his eyes fixed on the center of the pool, eager to see what this legendary "Lord of Blood" actually looked like.
As time passed, ripples began to spread from the center of the pool. Everyone held their breath.
Mohg and Lansseax slowly rose from the crimson depths. The warriors immediately dropped to one knee.
"We welcome the Lord's arrival!"
"Rise, everyone." Mohg raised a hand, and the warriors stood, bowing in gratitude.
Horuf looked at Lansseax with surprise. Is this a new Blood Priestess? Wait... should I tell Lady Lyanna? He began to sweat with indecision.
Nibla, meanwhile, was observing Mohg. Red hair, red eyes—a face that looked exactly like Godwyn the Golden, yet with a completely different temperament.
"You must be Nibla. This is our first true meeting in person, isn't it?"
"It is, my Lord." Nibla stepped forward and bowed.
"I admire you—both your loyalty and your capability. This is the newest member of our Dynasty: the Ancient Dragon, Lansseax. From now on, she is a member of the army and answers only to me."
The room went dead silent for a heartbeat. Did they hear that right? An Ancient Dragon?! An actual Ancient Dragon joined their Dynasty?!
A wave of indescribable excitement surged through the men. Even Nibla couldn't hide his shock and joy. In response to Mohg's introduction, Lansseax simply gave a cold, aloof nod, maintaining her "high-tier" persona.
"Enough of that for now," Mohg said. "Take me to see the army. I've read your reports, but I haven't seen them in person yet."
"I understand. Please follow me, my Lord." Nibla nodded and began to lead the way.
Internally, Nibla was still a bit confused. Mohg's aura and appearance didn't match his expectations. The statue they worshipped was a terrifying, Omen-like figure. But the Mohg before him was perfectly proportioned and incredibly handsome. It felt a bit surreal.
"You actually put an army together?" Lansseax whispered to Mohg as they walked, her eyes scanning Nibla. "And that guy is a Storm Knight from the Storm Lord's faction? You actually poached one of his generals?"
She had assumed she was joining a ragtag group of rebels, but this looked serious. While they lacked top-tier powerhouses, their mid-level strength was impressive compared to most factions in the Lands Between. They could easily become local warlords in Caelid if they wanted to. But what shocked her most was the Storm Knight. Nibla was clearly no weakling; he looked like a veteran general who had seen a hundred battles.
"It's a long story," Mohg replied. "But essentially, I saved his life and offered him something the Storm Lord never could. He joined me out of gratitude."
"I see..." Lansseax rubbed her chin. She suspected there was more to it—some deep emotional journey these men had gone through—but she didn't want to pry. "By the way, where are you hiding this new army? You didn't just leave them right under the Storm Lord's nose, did you?"
Mohg turned his curious gaze toward Nibla.
"Well... it's not exactly how Lady Lansseax describes it, but it's close. Our recruits are trained in the tunnels beneath the old Church of Dragon Communion. Essentially, this very area."
Mohg nodded. This explained why the numbers weren't astronomical; a massive force would draw too much attention. An abandoned area with a constant supply of grain flowing in would scream "suspicious" to anyone watching. Transporting personnel and supplies through the blood pool, however, solved most of those logistics.
"Nibla, how many men have you gathered?"
"Reporting to the Lord: we have scouted various territories and recruited retired veterans and those treated unfairly by their lords. In total, we have approximately eight hundred."
"Oh, eight hundred... Wait, eight hundred?!"
Mohg hadn't been surprised at first, but then the number hit him.
"Yes, my Lord. I am deeply ashamed that I have only managed to gather so few in this time. Please, punish me as you see fit..."
"No, no, no. This is a magnificent surprise! Why would I punish you?" Mohg reached out and helped Nibla up.
Eight hundred might sound small, but these weren't raw recruits. These were eight hundred battle-hardened veterans, all equipped with high-quality gear provided by Nibla. These were elite troops, and every single one of them had received the initial blood blessing. Once Mohg inspected them and granted further blessings to the most promising candidates, their strength would skyrocket.
One day, this force would become the legendary Blood Knights of the Mohgwyn Dynasty!
Soon, under Nibla's guidance, Mohg saw a vast expanse of soldiers training within a series of excavated caverns. Nibla had clearly spent significant resources carving this place out. It had drawn some attention from Stormveil, but Nibla had brushed it off with excuses. The Storm Lord likely looked the other way for his old subordinate, assuming Nibla was just using the Dragon Communion site to heal his old wounds.
"Everyone! Our Lord has arrived!"
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (459 Chapters – Full)
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