Gawain stared at Agheel, who had emerged from the mist in human form. He had suspected something like this might happen, but the reality was still... unexpected.
"You didn't transform into this just to make me lower my guard, did you?"
Agheel tilted her head, a look of confusion on her face. Taking on a human form was a novel experience; while her current appearance wasn't perfect, it was simply the draconic equivalent of a human's biological age.
"The moment I touched that branch you gave me, I understood how to use it. It is a wondrous thing. I didn't have a specific image in mind, though. Is there a problem?"
Gawain looked at the "girl" standing before him. She was barely 1.5 meters tall. Nearly half of her skin was covered in black scales, which conveniently covered the necessary areas.
At first glance, she looked remarkably like one of Gwyn's half-dragon children, though the colors were off. She had more scales than a typical crossbreed, and even a few feathers sprouting here and there, but she hit every mark of an "Old Ass" veteran's specific aesthetic preferences.
The fact that the ferocious dragon who had terrorized Agheel Lake for centuries looked like this in human form made Gawain suspect she was doing it on purpose—it actually made him feel a twinge of guilt for hitting her so hard earlier.
"Let me ask you... are you a boy or a girl? No, wait—are you male or female? If you're female, why did you turn into a child? You've been ruling this lake for at least a century, haven't you?"
He didn't know exactly how long she had made this lake her nest, but one didn't get a landmark named after them in a few weeks.
"Is a century considered long?" Agheel asked. "Oh, I forgot. For those of you without the Erdtree's blessing, that's an entire lifetime. But the lifespan of dragon-kin is far longer than you imagine. By human reckoning, I am only five hundred years old. I've only been here for about two hundred."
Gawain fell silent. These long-lived species had a sense of time that simply couldn't be measured by human standards. To Agheel, Elder Dragon Greyoll being rotted into a mountain of flesh in Caelid was probably just "recent news."
But it made a certain amount of sense. If the ancient dragon priestess who loved Vyke was a mature woman, then as a weaker descendant many generations down the line, Agheel being the equivalent of a human child at five hundred years old wasn't that strange. A "legal loli" dragon? It was certainly a sharp contrast to her rugged dragon form.
"Fine, whatever. This works. The effect of the Young White Branch usually lasts as long as you don't do anything too violent. Even if you turn back into a dragon, you can shift back to this form later. I'll give you more branches when that one wears out."
"Nothing too violent?" Agheel echoed. "How violent is 'too violent'?"
Gawain thought back to his days of stealth and assassination in Lothric. The camouflage of a White Branch wasn't as fragile as the game made it out to be; you didn't pop out of it just by stubbing your toe.
"Breathing a little fire is probably fine. Just use your best judgment; you'll feel it when the spell is about to break. Here, put this on. If you're going to be human, you need to look the part."
He pulled out an exquisite set of robes he had found in a room in Lothric. They had likely been designed for a certain "Moonlight Boy" but appeared never to have been worn. On the little dragon girl, the robes were slightly oversized but fit well enough. The hood pulled forward to hide the most obvious scales on her face. From a distance, she looked perfectly normal.
She clearly wasn't used to the sensation of fabric on her skin and moved to tear it off, but a stern look from Gawain made her reconsider.
Gawain stepped behind her and lifted her by the shoulders. Right, her weight has adjusted to that of a normal human girl. It wouldn't crush Torrent. He didn't bother questioning the physics of a magical world.
He blew the whistle to summon Torrent. After hoisting Agheel onto the saddle, he climbed on behind her. They had wasted enough time; they needed to reach Murkwater Cave before dark.
They hadn't traveled far when Melina's voice drifted into his mind. Though she didn't manifest, she could still communicate through their bond.
"Do you truly intend to keep this dragon as a subordinate?"
"Yeah. When it's time to storm Stormveil, I'm counting on her to fly me over the walls. It'll save a lot of trouble."
"If you are certain, I will not object," Melina said. "But that form you took today... was it truly not the result of Dragon Communion?"
"I told you, it's not. I know how Dragon Communion works; eat too many hearts and you turn into a Magma Wyrm. My form is the remnant of Ancient Dragon power found at the heart of Archdragon Peak. My appearance might change temporarily, but that's it. I am still myself. I won't be corrupted."
Melina was relieved to hear it, though she didn't entirely agree. She knew that such a physical metamorphosis couldn't leave the mind completely untouched. She herself had had her body burned away, leaving only her spirit to wander; she had lost many of her "human" sensations in the process. She understood that only the strongest of souls could ignore such physical distortions.
Those who lost their sanity to Dragon Communion did so because they craved the dragon's power with a feverish intensity. Their souls were warped by desire long before their bodies began to change.
At twilight, Gawain finally reached the Murkwater ravine. He dismounted from Torrent, and Agheel followed suit, sticking close behind him. She caught a scent in the air that dragons loathed—a smell she had encountered once before on a powerful Dragon Communion practitioner.
Tucked away in a hidden corner, Bloody Finger Nerijus had concealed himself perfectly.
As a Tarnished who had joined the Mohgwyn Dynasty to become a Bloody Finger, he served the Lord of Blood. His duty was to hunt his former kin and offer their blood to his master. Wounding others with cursed blood granted him ever-greater power.
Today was just another day of hunting near Agheel Lake. This was a prime spot for catching Tarnished fresh from the Stranded Graveyard. He usually spent his time dodging the dragon and avoiding the meddlesome Bloody Finger Hunters while looking for a weak target to fulfill his "quota." That had been the plan.
Then, he had witnessed a scene he would never forget. From a distance, he had seen the ferocious dragon engaged in battle. The monster that had ruled the lake for years had actually been beaten into a retreat, only for two massive bolts of lightning to tear through its wings. He didn't know what had happened after that.
Though the cursed blood had made Nerijus more erratic and violent, he still possessed a shred of self-preservation. That level of combat was far beyond his league.
So, he had steered clear of the battleground and decided to set up an ambush in this narrow ravine, hoping to surprise any travelers.
He had expected to go home empty-handed—after all, Godrick's soldiers were also out hunting for grafting material, leaving fewer and fewer targets. But then, a target had finally appeared.
Being a seasoned hunter, Nerijus didn't rush in. He noted the man in the Banished Knight armor looked troublesome; a direct ambush might not work.
However, the man had an obvious weakness: the little girl following him. He didn't care if she was the man's daughter or just a traveling companion. What kind of fool brings a defenseless child into the dangerous wilds? The advantage is mine!
Nerijus gripped his dagger, Reduvia, and the cursed blood instantly congealed on the blade. He fired a projectile of blood at his target.
Gawain sensed the attack from behind. He knew this area was dangerous and had been on high alert. He had smelled the stench of blood as they entered the ravine and had been watching his surroundings.
He drew his greatsword and coated it in frost. With a swift turn, he swatted the burning projectile out of the air, freezing the blood into a block of ice instantly. He spotted the hidden enemy immediately.
He manifested the Way of White Corona. Three spinning discs of light flew toward the assassin's hiding spot. Realizing he could no longer hide, Nerijus leapt from his cover.
Nerijus watched the spinning halos with a hint of dread. He knew those would hurt. Since the ambush had failed, he had no choice but to commit.
He flipped through the air, unleashing a barrage of blood blades from Reduvia. In an instant, a dozen arcs of scalding, cursed blood flew toward Gawain.
In the narrow ravine, Gawain had no room to dodge such a volume of projectiles. He unleashed a Wrath of the Gods. A massive shockwave of holy light erupted, shattering the blood blades and illuminating the darkening ravine.
Blinded by the light and caught in the shockwave, Nerijus lost his footing and slammed into the rocky cliffside.
Gawain seized the opening, charging forward with his greatsword raised. Nerijus managed to parry the lethal blow at the last second, but he was left reeling. He struggled to block the follow-up strikes, finding no gap to counter-attack. Finally, he gritted his teeth and intentionally left an opening at his midsection.
Thinking his opponent was exhausted, Gawain delivered a Storm Stomp kick, sending Nerijus flying.
The impact was devastating. Nerijus coughed up a spray of blood as he sailed through the air, but he let out a manic laugh.
"You fell for it, Tarnished! This was my escape route! Didn't you look to see where you were kicking me?"
Gawain's eyes widened as he realized what Nerijus was doing. "You... surely you wouldn't!"
Nerijus ignored the pain and corrected his posture mid-air, rolling to a stop right next to the "little girl" who had been watching the fight. He scrambled to his feet and pressed Reduvia against her throat.
"I admit, you're strong. But you were careless! Drop your weapon and surrender, or the girl dies!"
Gawain struggled to keep a straight face. He waved a dismissive hand at Nerijus.
"Go ahead. Do it. Hard as you can."
Nerijus blinked, confused. This wasn't how the script was supposed to go. Did the man truly not care if he killed the girl?
Beside him, Agheel—with a dagger pressed to her neck—was equally speechless. Am I just unlucky today? First I get beaten to a pulp, and now this 'Blood Noble' thinks he can use me as a hostage? Is he truly this brave?
She opened her mouth, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, and bit down hard on Nerijus's arm.
As a surge of agony shot up his arm, Nerijus was baffled. Since when does a little girl have teeth like this? In a fit of rage, he tried to drive Reduvia into her neck.
He failed. The blade didn't even break the skin.
He looked down and saw strange black scales on the girl's face. The sensation from his dagger felt as if he had just tried to stab a dragon.
Agheel tilted her head up and opened her mouth wide. She decided a small burst of dragon-fire wouldn't hurt. A fierce jet of flame erupted from her throat, the sheer force of the blast sending Nerijus spiraling through the air before he crashed into the ground, a charred, smoking wreck.
"Can I eat him?" Agheel asked, looking annoyed. "How dare he do that to me."
Gawain walked over and patted her on the head. Rubbing her scales felt strangely satisfying.
"He's a Blood Noble corrupted by cursed blood. You don't want to eat that—it's bad for your digestion. Let me finish him off."
Just as he was about to deliver the final blow, a figure wearing a wide-brimmed hat came running down the ravine, shouting from a distance.
"I've found you, Bloody Finger Nerijus! Your cursed blood ends here!"
Then, he saw the scene before him and froze. The battle is over? Who is this man, capable of defeating a Blood Noble so easily?
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (48 chapter - Ongoing)
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