Once the conversation with Asimi concluded, Mohg turned his attention back to Noxi.
"It seems you have already spoken with the Asimi within you, Sovereign."
"Indeed. However, having just absorbed the Silver Tear I hosted previously, she has now fallen into a deep slumber."
"Then it appears the two of you are off to a good start."
Mohg didn't offer a direct reply to that. Instead, he steered the conversation back toward the terms of their cooperation. "I wish to know how the Priestess intends to compensate our Dynasty for the... risks involved."
"...Dragonkin Soldiers."
"What?" Mohg paused, looking at Noxi with a hint of uncertainty.
"We can provide you with the techniques to create Dragonkin Soldiers. We can even provide the raw materials for a single unit."
As Noxi laid out the offer, Mohg forced himself to cool down rapidly. He quickly realized that this "compensation" was something of a double-edged sword. Setting aside the raw materials, the actual substance of the offer was somewhat lackluster.
Crucially, this was the data for Nokron's Dragonkin Soldiers, not the variants from Nokstella. This meant the soldiers produced would almost certainly lack the signature Ice Lightning of their counterparts. Furthermore, the combat utility of Dragonkin Soldiers was infamously limited; beyond defending a fixed position, they were strategically cumbersome. Due to their "malformed" lower bodies, their movement speed was agonizingly slow.
However, for the Mohgwyn Dynasty, this was manageable. They could use the teleportation properties of blood pools to drop a Dragonkin Soldier directly onto a major battlefield as a weapon of mass destruction.
Even so, manifesting a blood pool large enough to transport such a gargantuan creature would take significant time, and no enemy was foolish enough to simply stand by and watch it happen. Then there were the materials: dragon blood, drake corpses, Troll remains, Silver Tears, and Ancient Dragon blood.
None of these were easy to acquire. While Mohg found most of them manageable—save perhaps for the dragon corpses—it was still a steep investment.
But in a negotiation, one always pushes for more.
"Lady Noxi, this single condition hardly demonstrates the sincerity of your City."
"...Then we shall add advanced Silver Tear engineering. Additionally, we can provide the agricultural methods for crops unique to the underground world. I trust this sufficiently proves our sincerity?"
Mohg's eyes sharpened at the mention of the agricultural methods. This was a vital key to solving the Dynasty's food security. Even with a foothold in Caelid to provide supplies, one could never have too much grain.
"I also require the blueprints for a portion of your weaponry."
"No. At most, we can provide some of the specialized materials used in their crafting."
"...That will suffice."
Noxi's refusal was immediate. Nox weapon smithing combined with Silver Tear research was the foundation of many of their secrets. Mohg didn't press the issue; the agricultural techniques were already a major win. The weapons request had been a probe—a low-risk gamble that had yielded a respectable consolation prize.
With the talk concluded, Mohg notified Holuf and Lyanna back at the Dynasty, instructing them to bring a detachment to Nokron. He also ensured the Silver Tears of the city memorized the auras of the Mohgwyn personnel to avoid any "accidental" hostilities.
"Lord Mohg, this place... is it related to the other one?" Lyanna asked as she arrived.
"Mhm. They share a bloodline and origins, but strictly speaking, they are distant relatives who haven't spoken in an eternity. The passing of ages has thinned their connection to the point of irrelevance." Mohg explained the situation as they walked.
"By the way, has Lelanana contacted you?"
"...No. We haven't received any word from Lady Lelanana recently." Lyanna turned her head slightly, her voice sounding a bit unnatural. It wasn't that she was lying, but she clearly didn't enjoy discussing Lelanana.
As for Lelanana... while Caria and the Golden Order had reached a tacit understanding, minor friction persisted—especially among the high-level combatants. While the overall impact was small, Lelanana couldn't easily leave Caria at this juncture. She couldn't be sure if her departure would trigger a change in the Golden Order's stance. She likely intended to wait until the dust settled—specifically after the marriage of Rennala and Radagon—before reaching out.
"I see..."
Mohg nodded. During his recovery, he had left the communication channels to Lyanna. Now that he was restored, he needed to create a duplicate monitoring system. The Pureblood Knight's Medals he had distributed granted the power to enter the Dynasty; it was only prudent that he and Lyanna each held a way to oversee that access.
As for Holuf, there was no need; he was strictly military. Nibbla handled administration, but since the Dynasty was short on qualified bureaucrats, Nibbla was currently overextended despite his own prowess as a warrior.
As Mohg's thoughts drifted, a voice—both familiar and distant—echoed in his mind, calling his name. He paused, visualizing a woman in perfumer's robes.
Is this the stray pawn I placed earlier? Sophia, I believe?
He responded to the call and immediately perceived Sophia's surroundings. As the vision cleared, Mohg's expression turned icy.
Sophia had followed their agreement, rallying a group of Perfumers who harbored sympathy for the Omens. They were willing to follow her to the Dynasty to find a way to heal the Omen's plight. However, operating within the Royal Capital—and given that the Perfumers served the city's elite—it was impossible to remain undetected forever.
Now, cornered in a narrow alley by a squad of Faceless Men, the Perfumers were crying out to Mohg for protection.
A choice sat before Mohg: risk entering the Royal Capital to save them, or ignore them to ensure his own safety. The possibility of this being a trap was high.
"Lord... Lord Mohg..." Sophia whispered, clutching a heavy book to her chest. The pages were filled with the results of her research: formulas for medicines specifically designed to soothe the pain and heal the festering wounds of the Omens.
Her primary focus was the Omens who had had their horns excised. Their powerful physiques meant the wounds rarely killed them, but they lived in a state of perpetual, agonizing torment. She wanted to help them, so she had sought out like-minded Perfumers—those who didn't agree with the Dynasty's cruelty. That search had drawn the attention of the Faceless Men and the Church. They hadn't even made it out of the city before being cornered.
Was she afraid? Naturally. As a living being, the fear of death was a primal instinct. But did she regret it? Dying for her ideals was not a cause for regret.
"...Slit your wrists. Let your blood flow. Recite my name and the prayer I taught you. I shall lead you from this place."
"Lord Mohg!"
"It is I. Do as I say. Quickly." Mohg urged. He could already sense a searing, sun-like holy aura approaching from within the capital—a powerhouse had noticed the disturbance.
"Yes!" Sophia nodded, drawing a dagger from her belt and slicing her arm.
The sudden action stunned everyone in the alley, including the Faceless Men. The leader of the squad—an envoy of the Erdtree Church—stepped forward with an arrogant sneer.
"So, you are the heretics consorting with an outer god? I don't yet smell the stench of betrayal to the Erdtree on you. Hand over the ringleader, and I can promise the rest of you will face only minor punishment... wait, what are you doing?!"
He realized Sophia was bleeding out intentionally. His face contorted. "Seize her!"
The Faceless Men raised their weapons and lunged. But the other Perfumers had caught on. They mimicked Sophia's actions, slicing their own flesh.
"Great Sovereign of Blood, who grants mercy to the Aspects of the Crucible, I pray to you with my blood..."
"Great Sovereign of Blood, who grants mercy to the Aspects of the Crucible, I pray to you with my blood..."
Just as the Faceless Men reached them, a crimson light filled the alley. A thick, bloody mist erupted.
In the Great Cathedral of the capital, Bishop Phlow of the Erdtree Church snapped his golden eyes open. A flash of pure rage ignited within them.
"Heretic!"
BOOM!
Blinding golden light exploded from Phlow, filling the cathedral. The onlookers were dazed, but before they could react, a violent gust of wind whipped past them. A golden blur shot out of the cathedral, hurtling toward the city gates where the red light was pulsing.
In the palace, Godwyn sensed Mohg's presence. He did nothing. He sat quietly on his throne and closed his eyes. When his personal guard entered, Godwyn didn't react, appearing as though he had fallen asleep.
"Prince..."
"I know. Let Phlow handle it."
"Yes."
Back in the alley, the arrogant envoy was now trembling with visceral terror. "You... you... you are..."
CRACK!
Before he could finish, Mohg's claw crushed his skull. Mohg spared a glance at the family crest on the envoy's robes: the boar of the Haug family.
The remaining Faceless Men charged. They didn't speak, but their eyes behind their masks burned with murderous intent. Mohg flared his wings, sending out a flurry of blood-red feathers. They tore through the air, leaving a fine mist of blood as the Faceless Men collapsed, their life forces extinguished instantly.
"Lord Mohg..."
"Step into the blood pool. This place is about to become a battlefield."
Without waiting for a reply, Mohg raised a hand. The blood on the ground surged up, enveloping Sophia and the Perfumers. In the next second, they vanished.
Mohg looked up. A brilliant, dazzling golden light was screaming toward him. In the blink of an eye, the light slammed into the alley. The impact shattered the ground beneath Mohg's feet, and the golden radiance completely filled his vision.
Golden Condemnation!
This was Phlow's signature incantation, a strike of immense power. Its only flaws were its wide area of effect—making the energy less concentrated—and the tendency to cause massive collateral damage.
In his fury, Phlow didn't care. He had detected a powerful outer god's aura in the very heart of the Royal Capital. It was an intolerable provocation.
As the gold faded, Phlow stood amidst the ruin of the alley. The ground was scorched, and masonry was reduced to dust. Nearby bodies had been turned to charcoal—many of them the very Faceless Men he had sent. Even a few residents of the lower city had been vaporized in the blast.
"A truly mad display. So this is the 'love for the people' you preach?"
A voice drifted through the smoke. Phlow stared through the haze to see Mohg, his wounds closing at a visible rate.
"Heretic!" Phlow hissed.
----Support me here: https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
If you'd like to read ahead, you can subscribe for early access. I also have several other novels in my collection that you might enjoy!
Also, if there's a particular novel you're enjoying on Patreon, please give it a 'like' so I know to focus on updating it.
Join the journey and become part of the story!