"Cough... you..."
Messmer looked down with cold, indifferent eyes at Kane, who was struggling to speak while impaled on the tip of his spear. With a sharp twist of his wrist, surging flames erupted from his palm, instantly engulfing the man.
Amidst a piercing scream, Kane's silhouette was reduced to charred remains in the blink of an eye.
Seeing this, Messmer swept a gaze over the surrounding crowd before slamming his spear into the ground.
Thump!
Those standing nearby felt the ground tremble beneath their feet, and their hearts skipped a beat in unison.
"I am the Vice-General of this Liurnia Expeditionary Force. Kane defied the Royal Decree and attempted to obstruct the march of the Great Army; thus, he has been executed. Do any of you... have an objection?"
As Messmer's words rang out, the area fell into a long, heavy silence. Even the nobles from the same family didn't dare speak up for Kane. They knew that if the man standing before them had been Godwyn, there might have been room for negotiation...
No, if it had been Godwyn, Kane likely wouldn't have had to die at all. But unfortunately for them, they were facing Messmer.
They had all heard of this general. He led a force that answered only to the King and Queen—though now, that circle included Godwyn. As for Radagon... Messmer had not been ordered to obey him, only to assist him.
While this general was renowned for his strength and prestige, none of the nobles in the Capital liked Messmer or his soldiers. They were an uncompromising elite force that held the most dangerous sectors on the battlefield. In the Capital during peacetime, they served as the enforcement arm, with Messmer himself holding the position of High Adjudicator.
The methods he employed in that role were... notorious.
Now that the Capital had recovered from the war with the Ancient Dragons, the nobles guarding the interests of the Grand Lift had little choice. They had already planned to surrender their control, but they hadn't expected this outcome.
Messmer let out a cold snort after reading the expressions of the crowd. He turned and strode away, heading toward his waiting soldiers.
Most of his men were dressed in standard Leyndell soldier gear, distinguished only by the additional crests of Messmer's warband. However, a portion of them wore specialized knightly armor. While it retained the core characteristics of Leyndell Knights, it differed in the plumes, specific sections of the plating, and—most notably—the helmets.
These modifications gave their armor a much more menacing silhouette.
These were the elite knights under Messmer's direct command: members of the Black Knight Battalion.
"The matter here is concluded. Tell Lord Radagon to lead his troops forward and take control of the Grand Lift as soon as possible. I will remain here to ensure no one does anything desperate out of spite."
"Understood, sir."
Andreas nodded, mounted his horse, and galloped back toward the Capital's staging grounds.
Shortly thereafter, the grand army commanded by Radagon began its march toward the Grand Lift, drawing up into a formation that spoke of absolute discipline.
"Lord Radagon."
Messmer immediately recognized the tall, handsome man with striking red hair stepping out from the ranks. The features were far too distinctive to mistake. A mane of hair as vivid as fire—this was the most enduring physical description anyone who met Radagon ever gave.
"Yes. Messmer, I appreciate your hard work here."
Radagon wore a warm, gentle smile as he nodded to Messmer. However, when his gaze shifted to the charred corpse hanging high upon a banner pole nearby, his eyes turned freezing cold.
"A nest of maggots, corroding the Dynasty."
"They will face their reckoning eventually, but now is not the time. Order the army to advance, Lord Radagon."
Messmer could sense that Radagon's disgust was entirely genuine, which caused his own attitude to soften slightly—or at least, he considered it softening.
Radagon nodded. It was lucky he understood this "son's" personality; had it been a more petty-minded general, they would likely have started looking for ways to sabotage Messmer for his tone. Messmer's words carried a faint air of a command, and combined with his face and voice... anyone unfamiliar would have taken it as a provocation.
"Activate the Grand Lift! All forces, prepare to advance! Destination: Liurnia!!!"
Wooo—!
As the Golden Order's vanguard drew up before the Grand Lift and dispersed the surrounding Cuckoo Knights, Mohg soon heard the blare of trumpets.
The terrifying resonance of hundreds, if not thousands, of horns blowing in unison echoed across the cliffs, bringing with it a sense of overwhelming awe and epic scale.
In the next moment, the true main body of the Golden Order began to emerge from the Grand Lift.
Their golden armor was blindingly bright under the light of the sun and the Erdtree. Tree Sentinels, mounted on massive chargers, held their heads high as they led the army forward, the red gems atop their helmets glistening in the light.
Behind them came the disciplined ranks of Leyndell soldiers. Along the flanks were Leyndell Knights and footmen bearing high-flying banners.
As the Grand Lift continued its cycles, one terrifying division after another was revealed to the various factions watching from the lake district.
Soon, Mohg spotted the silhouettes of Trolls. They were clad in specialized golden armor, wielding massive golden Greatswords that matched their towering frames. The heavy thuds of their footsteps sent tremors through the earth and the hearts of those watching.
Caria had their own Troll allies, of course—a lineage likely brought down from the snowy mountains in the ancient past.
Next to appear was a banner embroidered with a golden Great Stag and a Greatshield—the crest of the House of Daen, a high noble family of the Golden Order.
Simultaneously, two extremely conspicuous figures appeared among the rear units. Both had red hair, and though their auras were distinct, they were equally eye-catching.
One wore ornate golden armor and a red cape, mounted on a white warhorse draped in golden barding. The other was dressed in a red robe and black armor, his mount covered in black steel.
Mohg's heart tightened as he watched them. He knew their identities better than anyone.
Radagon "The Red-Haired" and Messmer "The Impaler"!
Following behind them were groups of clerics in snowy white robes with golden embroidery—some from the Golden Order Church, others from the Church of the Two Fingers.
Facing the immense military might of the Golden Order, the Cuckoo Knights began to succumb to unrest and terror. Even if they weren't the current targets, it was hard to maintain composure—much less excitement—when facing such a powerhouse. After all, they could hardly be considered a "regular army."
But no one felt the pressure more than Lucoville, the Commander of the Cuckoo Knights, who stood at the very front facing the brunt of that golden aura.
As Mohg carefully observed the distance, Mu'en—standing beside him—was beginning to feel his throat go dry. Though he knew Caria's forces were not weak, it was difficult to stay calm in the face of such a display, especially since Caria had never mobilized on such a grand scale.
Mohg, however, didn't have time to worry about Mu'en's reaction. He had noticed something slightly off... Radagon seemed to have looked in his direction!
"A hallucination? It must be... I'm not sure. Let me look again..."
Mohg muttered under his breath, looking left and right with uncertainty before putting his telescope back to his eyes to focus on Radagon and Messmer once more.
The moment he looked, he was met by a pair of piercing golden eyes. By some strange twist of fate, their gazes locked.
Mohg felt his breath hitch. When he finally snapped out of it, he pulled the telescope away with a dark expression and surged to his feet.
"Kuzuun?!"
Mu'en was baffled by Mohg's sudden movement and looked at him with confusion.
"Quickly, we have to go. We've been spotted!"
"What?! How is that possible?!" Mu'en gasped in disbelief.
"I don't have time for jokes! Move! The commander of that army just locked eyes with me!"
Mu'en finally realized the gravity of the situation. He scrambled to his feet and followed Mohg as they sprinted toward their designated extraction point.
Back at the Lift, Radagon slowly withdrew his gaze from Mohg's direction.
"What is it?" Messmer asked, noticing Radagon's distraction.
"Nothing. I simply felt someone watching us. And... my intuition tells me it was an old acquaintance."
"I see... but it's nothing special. Many eyes are on us right now, and we aren't exactly hiding. It's only natural."
Messmer felt nothing of it. In fact, he found it mundane. Appearing in the Liurnia lake district with such a presence, it would be more abnormal if people didn't notice.
"Let us proceed. The Cuckoo Knight Commander who chose to defect should be waiting for us just ahead."
Radagon nodded and nudged his horse forward to meet Lucoville.
Feeling the powerful aura radiating from Radagon, Lucoville didn't hesitate for a second. He dropped to one knee and performed a formal salute of submission. He understood a simple truth: you only have the right to speak as an equal when you possess equal power.
Facing these two, he clearly lacked that right.
"You have made the correct choice, Lord Lucoville."
Seeing Lucoville's submission, Radagon dismounted and helped the man up.
"We have always desired to return to the light of the Erdtree, but we lacked the means to do so. We are fortunate that Lord Radagon has arrived."
Radagon nodded. After offering a few words of reassurance to Lucoville, he signaled for the man to begin organizing his troops into the formation.
Only then did Lucoville turn back to look at his men. Seeing their pathetic display of fear, his face darkened. Are they trying to ruin our value as a fighting force?!
As for Radagon's true opinion of Lucoville and his lot... he didn't reject them, as they had chosen to join the Erdtree. But to expect him to view them as equal to the Golden Citizens of the Altus Plateau? Impossible.
"His strength is decent, but not enough to sit at the high table," Messmer noted, looking at Lucoville. "I wonder how he managed to grow so unchecked within Carian territory."
"A remnant of history," Radagon explained. "Not every Cuckoo Commander was of this strength, and not every Carian Queen was as powerful as the current one."
Radagon finished his explanation and led his horse toward the center of the army. Messmer dismounted and followed. Though he wasn't great at reading the room, he could navigate a basic social situation like this.
Meanwhile, Mohg and Mu'en had sprinted all the way back to their outpost. Schister, Mingal, and the other guerrilla members were still there.
"How are you two back so soon?" Mingal asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"The Golden Order army has descended. I saw their two commanders. One of them likely spotted us. He didn't pursue, but to be safe, we left immediately."
Schister and Mingal's expressions turned grim. They exchanged a look and nodded in unison.
"You two rest here. I need to report this to the Queen immediately. By the way, Gwyn—do you recognize those two commanders?"
"I recognize one of them. He is a famous general from the Capital named Messmer. I haven't heard of the other. Also, I saw the crest of the House of Daen; they must be supporting this expedition."
"Hmm... vital intelligence. Good work."
Schister's expression shifted at the mention of Messmer's name. Clearly, he had heard of the man's reputation.
The information Mohg brought back would allow them to confirm the Golden Order's likely offensive patterns, march styles, and potential internal frictions. In many ways, it was a major intelligence win.
Especially given that Mohg was a "native" of Altus; the details he knew were bound to exceed their own. In the past, they had decent intel on the Golden Order, but since the Dynasty's power began to swell and its expansion began, the Grand Lift had been tightly controlled, and their flow of information had dried up.
As Schister departed, Mohg watched the busy activity around him and began to consider what preparations he should tell Lyanna and the others to make.
Beside him, Mu'en looked dazed. He felt as though he had just gone on a field trip, done absolutely nothing, and now it was all over.
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (Full)
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