Leaving the Table of Lost Grace, Gawain scanned his surroundings. Aside from the familiar faces, a new one had appeared: a young woman with golden hair was engaged in an earnest conversation with Diallos.
"Tell me again what happened," Diallos said, his voice tinged with disbelief. "To be honest, I find it hard to credit."
Lanya recalled the previous night's events, a shiver of lingering fear passing through her. She took a deep breath before recounting it once more.
"After we were separated, I searched for you for a long time but found no one. Then, I was cornered by several Recusants. They were incredibly powerful, and I truly thought I was done for. But suddenly, a group of Albinaurics armed with wooden clubs charged in to rescue me. I intended to join the fight, but for some reason, a thick mist enveloped me, and I lost consciousness. If I didn't see wrongly, a blue silhouette appeared in the distance."
Diallos pondered this for a long time, unable to place the identity of this "blue silhouette." However, seeing that Lanya was unharmed, he assumed the stranger meant no ill will. "A blue figure... was it they who left you at the entrance of the Hold?"
"Who knows? I remember nothing after that. It was like a dream. Perhaps they didn't want me to know their true identity."
"Regardless, it was far too dangerous," Diallos muttered. "I didn't expect Recusants to target you so boldly. Is this a deliberate attack on House Hoslow? I heard they approached my brother, Juno, but he refused them. From now on, stay put. Don't go wandering. Without my protection, those people will come for you again. I don't want to lose you like I almost did today."
Lanya pursed her lips. Others might be fooled by his polished armor and noble posturing, but she knew the truth of Diallos's martial prowess. The true pride of House Hoslow was his brother, Juno. Yet, she was touched by his words. She didn't want to wander anymore either; she had no desire to be surrounded and die alone. Even if danger was inevitable, she wanted to be by Diallos's side.
"Diallos, I see you found your servant. No accidents, I hope?" Gawain asked as he walked over.
Diallos turned, seeing a familiar face. Feeling in high spirits, he replied in a relaxed tone, "Though I nearly lost her, the outcome was favorable. I didn't realize there were still people in the Lands Between willing to lend a hand to someone in distress. If I ever learn their identity, I shall thank them personally."
Gawain chuckled. At least one more person saved. Ranni certainly is efficient. "Better to let that thought go. The person clearly intended to remain anonymous."
"I suppose so. Oh, by the way—Nepheli Loux has been looking for you. She said if I saw you, I should tell you to meet her in the hallway. She's waiting."
Gawain looked in the direction Diallos pointed—toward the hallway leading to Sir Gideon Ofnir's study. He began to form a few theories.
"Nepheli wants to see me? I'll head to the blacksmith to upgrade my gear first, then I'll find her. I'll leave you two to your chat. When the wedding bells ring, be sure to let me know. I'll have a gift ready."
Lanya's face instantly turned a bright crimson, steam practically rising from her head. Diallos was caught off guard. "Lanya? Are you alright? Why is your face so red?"
"So... are we really going to invite him?"
"Huh? Marriage? Us?"
Gawain ducked into the side corridor, following the familiar path toward the room filled with radiating heat. He knocked on the door. From within, a gravelly, booming voice answered.
"Door's unlocked. Come in, but don't disturb my rhythm."
He pushed the door open to find a workshop hung with all manner of weapons and armor. An elderly Misbegotten, his body covered in scales, was rhythmically hammering a rapier. His physique and corded muscles were even more imposing than they appeared in the game; for a moment, Gawain had a flashback to Andre of Astora.
"Are you the smith, Hewg? I'd like to commission some upgrades."
Hewg didn't stop his work. He merely glanced up, noting a new face. His duties remained the same, however. He freed one hand to point toward a nearby empty table.
"Lay out your steel, your stones, and your Runes. I'll get to it when I have a moment."
Gawain walked to the table and unceremoniously dumped a large basket of Smithing Stones—everything from level one to three, standard and Somber. He followed this by laying out every weapon he anticipated needing—more than a dozen in total.
Hewg finally lowered his hammer. In all his years, he had never seen such an absurd guest. Who dumps a whole basket of stones on the floor? But his gaze was quickly drawn to the weapons.
Leaving his anvil, he stood and walked over to inspect the gear. While some were standard, several were remarkable. His eyes settled on the massive greatsword leaning against the table. He recognized it immediately as the legendary treasure of Castle Morne.
"This is quite the undertaking," Hewg grumbled. "I'll prioritize these, but even if I start this second, I won't finish today. I'll need three days."
Gawain didn't mind the wait. When he used to commission Andre, complex reinforcements always took time. Channeled the power of Titanite—or Smithing Stones—into a blade was a delicate art that couldn't be rushed.
"Three days? That works. I'll leave it in your hands. Are the stones enough?"
"You've given me too many. I won't even need a quarter of these. Take the rest back."
"No need. I have plenty more. Consider the surplus a tip. But I see you have plenty of other commissions—why prioritize mine?"
"Consider it a courtesy to the blade," Hewg said, nodding toward the Grafted Blade Greatsword. "Since it's in your hands, I can only hope you're worthy of it."
"Rest assured, it won't disappoint."
Hewg ran a hand over the legendary sword. As a Misbegotten smith who had once served Queen Marika, he knew the history of Castle Morne all too well. He held a lingering sentiment for the weapon. He resolved to finish this commission first. Besides, several other unique weapons in the pile had piqued his interest; for a smith, the more unusual the blade, the more motivated he became.
After leaving ten thousand Runes in crystal form on the table, Gawain left the workshop. As he wondered why Nepheli was seeking him, he nearly bumped into a man wearing a spellblade's pointed hat.
Is that Rogier? He hasn't infiltrated Stormveil yet?
He looked back at the familiar figure. He recalled Hewg was just working on an exquisite rapier—was Rogier there to pick up his weapon? However, Gawain detected a familiar scent on the man and his expression turned odd. He couldn't have just come from Fia's room, could he? No wonder he was eventually pierced at the Prince of Death's throne later; perhaps he was carrying something he shouldn't have been.
Without lingering, Gawain crossed the main hall to the opposite corridor. He found Nepheli Loux leaning against a wall, across from the silent, watchful Ensha. Seeing the man she had been waiting for, Nepheli stepped forward.
"Gawain. You've returned at the right time. My foster father wishes to have a word with you. Is that acceptable?"
"Your foster father? It seems nothing escapes Sir Gideon Ofnir. Very well, I've been meaning to meet the master of the Roundtable myself."
Nepheli nodded. Ensha, seeing the signal, stepped aside to clear the path. She knocked on the door to Gideon's study, and upon hearing a response, unlocked it.
"Go on in. I'll wait out here. He has much to say to you."
Gawain stepped into the room. Everywhere he looked, there were mountains of parchment and scrolls. He narrowed his eyes; his keen sight caught the dense markings on the scrolls. The breadth of information was staggering. From the snow-capped peaks of the Mountaintops to the rainy cliffs of the Weeping Peninsula—he even saw notes on the movements of Bloody Fingers and the Cleanrot Knights at the Haligtree. He was inwardly impressed. Good grief, he really is 'The All-Knowing.' How much time did it take to weave such a net of intelligence across the chaos of the Lands Between?
Deep in the room, Sir Gideon Ofnir looked up from a scroll. The flickering candlelight danced off his silver, ear-adorned helmet. Though his eyes were hidden, Gawain felt as though the man was seeing right through him. Gideon showed no surprise. He merely laid his quill aside and allowed a meaningful curve to touch his lips.
"I've been expecting you." His voice carried the weight of a man whose predictions had finally come true. "I was just calculating when you might set foot in this Hold again."
He stood straight, the scrolls before him containing everything he had gathered on Gawain.
"Spies killed in the Weeping Peninsula. A rebellion in Castle Morne suppressed with a pillar of fire. The Gatefront ruins leveled, and a Tree Sentinel slain. A dragon shot from the sky over Agheel Lake. You were the hand behind all of this, weren't you?"
Gawain nodded. There was no point in denying it. "Guilty as charged. But I am curious—how did you find out?"
"Simple. The spies were assassins of the Two Fingers; tracing the aftermath in Morne made it clear a 'hero' was involved. As for Limgrave... by now, even Godrick knows what happened. I am no exception. It was easy to connect the dots to your arrival, as you are the only 'variable' to appear recently. I must say, you are quite the unexpected figure. You aren't part of the first generation of Tarnished exiled by Marika... so how does a descendant possess such power?"
"I've seen a lot in my time," Gawain replied vaguely. "Naturally, I grew into it. But is that why you called me here?"
Gideon shook his head, the darkness behind his visor masking his thoughts. "I assume you intend to move against Stormveil Castle soon?"
"Correct. That's why I'm here to upgrade my weapons. Seizing a Great Rune is the goal of every Tarnished, isn't it? The Grace I see has been pointing toward Stormveil, practically begging me to act."
"Indeed. Since you are a warrior who can see the guidance of Grace, I will not question your capability. Are you willing to become an official member of the Roundtable Hold?"
Gawain was momentarily taken aback by the sudden invitation. He had expected to wait until he actually held a Great Rune. But he saw no downside.
"I thought I was a member already. Since you're offering, I have no reason to refuse."
Gideon reached out and shook the new member's hand. "Welcome. Since we are now comrades of a shared ambition, I can offer certain... conveniences for your campaign. I have several 'insiders' within Stormveil. They can provide assistance when you begin your siege. In exchange, I wish to peruse the historical documents and records kept within the castle once the dust has settled. Is this acceptable?"
Gawain considered it. It was essentially a formality; Gideon already had spies inside. Whether Gawain agreed or not, the All-Knowing would scavenge what he wanted during the chaos. He might as well accept the help.
"As if my disagreement would stop you from gathering intelligence. Fine. Tell your insiders to cause as much chaos as they can."
"We are both aspirants to the throne; it is only my responsibility. Oh, and Nepheli wishes to join the battle as well. Inform me when you are ready. Aside from her, I shall send other suitable candidates to ensure the Great Rune is yours."
As the brief meeting ended, Gideon watched Gawain leave. He looked back down at a report from one of his subordinates, which detailed the horrific state of the Tree Sentinel's corpse and every witnessed attack.
"Powerful lightning, freely manipulated fire, even mastery over frost and storm..." Gideon whispered. "What other powers are you hiding? Show them all to me in the battle to come."
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (73 chapter - Ongoing)
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