"Yes, it means exactly what you think."
Lan nodded slightly, confirming the explosive news.
"A long time ago, it was said that someone used the same method to sever the entanglement of an Outer God. However, no one knows for certain if it truly happened. That likely took place during the era of the ancient ruin civilizations. Both the specific method of use and its authenticity are questionable; after all, very few have ever laid hands on such an item."
"I see. Regardless, it is at least a lead."
Gawain didn't know which specific period Lan meant by "the era of ancient ruins," but it sounded at least as old as the Uhl civilization, if not older.
A vision of a strong, red-haired figure flashed through his mind. Can that disgusting Scarlet Rot really be purged through such means?
He pushed the thought aside. That was a concern for the distant future. For now, he needed to finish the task at hand.
"By the way, that 'malicious presence' that broke into Nokstella—has it still not been caught?"
Lan shook his head, his tone laced with a hint of disdain.
"That fellow is quite slippery. Its disguises are impeccable; it can change its size and appearance at will. Every time we corner it, it flees directly into the Lake of Rot. The situation there hasn't been great lately, so we've had to let it go. But it isn't a major threat; as long as our defenses remain tight, it can't do much."
"It can change its size and appearance?" Gawain had never heard of a Baleful Shadow altering its form. He had assumed it was just a red-glowing shadow—the kind you could identify at a glance.
But it made sense. The Lands Between possessed technologies like the Mimic's Veil; Godrick had used one to hide among a group of women to escape, after all. Disguising one's appearance wasn't difficult, and it was likely the only way the Shadow could continue to prowl the territory of these Nox elders without being caught.
Maybe it's even hiding nearby right now, watching everything, Gawain thought. I just hope it doesn't try a 'Maureda-style' sneak attack with some absurdly good disguise.
Still, he wasn't overly concerned. From the start, the Baleful Shadow hadn't been his primary target.
Gawain followed Lan upward, passing several areas occupied by giant iron balls—Silver Tears in disguise. They slowly reached the heights of Nokstella.
A short walk away lay the hiding place of the Cradle of Mimicry, as well as one of the legendary talismans for sorcerers: the Moon of Nokstella. In this reality, Gawain didn't have a limit on spell slots and could swap magics at will, so he wondered if the talisman would end up being a mere decoration.
He looked up at the cathedral ceiling, which was crawling with lightning-infused Silver Tears and several mimicked iron balls. It was a familiar sight.
His strongest memory of this place was using it as a Rune-farming spot in the early game. One well-placed strike on a falling Silver Tear would trigger a chain reaction of explosions, clearing the whole lot.
Since they had arrived, he sent a silent call into his mind, finally waking Asimi and pulling her out.
Lan watched the Silver Tear slumping on the ground before gradually coalescing into a humanoid form. There was no mistaking it; she carried the aura of the Cradle of Mimicry, and she clearly possessed self-awareness. He could finally hand over the remaining half with peace of mind.
However, as he watched the newly-formed Asimi yawn—an aura of pure lethargy radiating from her—he couldn't help but feel that the "Night Lord" he had waited so long for was a bit... unreliable.
No, he corrected himself: it was the host who was unreliable. The design of the Mimic Tear was to mimic a true ruler's image and behavior to eventually become a perfect, self-aware Night Lord. With only one reference point, whatever the host was like, the Night Lord would follow. Theoretically, there were solutions for this, but the initial host undoubtedly had the greatest impact on the Night Lord's behavioral patterns.
"Let's go, Asimi. Just as I promised, the last Cradle you need is right ahead."
"You've been inside me long enough," Gawain added. "It's time you became a proper Night Lord and helped me manage the underground cities. Do you hear me?"
Asimi stretched and spoke with an air of utter world-weariness.
"Fine, fine... though for some reason, I suddenly don't feel like taking the other half of the Cradle. Once I have it, I won't be able to hang out with Sister Melina every day. And managing an Eternal City sounds like a huge hassle."
"You're at this age and you still want to just sleep? Can't you learn a bit of diligence from me?"
Asimi shot her host a look, her tone teasing.
"I am merely a self-aware Silver Tear. My nature is to constantly mimic my host. As for why I turned out like this... well, I wouldn't know."
"Forget it. This 'account' is well and truly ruined. I'll have to see if the Queen can offer a rebirth one of these days."
Gawain muttered to himself. It made sense for Asimi to mimic his own penchant for slacking off—even if he'd been busy since arriving in the Lands Between, he still tried to lounge whenever possible.
Back at Firelink Shrine, there was a period when he was so beaten down that he and the Crestfallen Warrior just sat in a corner and gave up. He remembered the Fire Keeper didn't nag him; she just sat quietly beside him, offering occasional words of encouragement. To him, she was the only warmth in that dark world. In the end, it was his own conscience that drove him to pick himself up and continue the journey.
But while the personality was understandable, where did that tone come from? It wasn't like his. It couldn't be Melina, could it?
The thought gave him pause. He hadn't noticed it before, but now that he could see Melina whenever he wanted, the way she constantly watched him from the periphery felt... strange in hindsight. The contrast was even sharper when she was temporarily absent.
Could that wooden face actually hide a completely different personality that only manifests through Asimi?
Considering Asimi started by mimicking him almost perfectly but had now evolved into this, the thought became even more absurd. He got the sinking feeling that Melina was teaching Asimi some "strange games" when he wasn't looking.
Shaking off these distractions, he focused on the task at hand and led Asimi to the chest at the deepest part of the cathedral.
Lan was also muttering to himself. Having waited here so long, he had imagined countless times what a Night Lord who absorbed two Cradles would look like. Today was certainly an eye-opener. He just hoped for some "normal" changes soon.
Lan stepped forward and personally broke the seal on the chest so the internal enchantments wouldn't destroy the treasure.
Without further disturbing the scene, he breathed a sigh of relief and quietly left the cathedral without looking back. His duty was complete; what happened next was beyond his prediction.
Influenced by the person he had once sworn to protect, he didn't actually care much for his current position of power. If he had a choice, he would have preferred to tinker with his own hobbies.
However, after the ancient disaster, very few were left who were willing to persist. Most had abandoned these blighted lands for other paths. Someone with enough seniority had to step up to manage the situation, so he had been forced into the role.
For eons, he had not only dealt with the subtle but omnipresent influence of the Two Fingers, but also the strange Kindred of Rot constantly emerging from the lake.
He felt he had done a decent job. Using the power of the Cradle, he had mass-produced Silver Tears, designing different attributes and behaviors to counter various threats, all while using Grave Glovewort to strengthen them. He had even devised methods to counter or tame the giant ants and other subterranean creatures.
Deep in thought, Lan reached the lower levels and announced to his gathered kin what was happening above. To be honest, they found it hard to believe that the Night Lord had simply walked through the door so easily, but they trusted Lan's judgment. Now, they only had to wait.
Inside the cathedral, Gawain tucked away the Moon of Nokstella talisman he had just picked up. He studied Asimi, who had just "drunk" the second Cradle of Mimicry. At first glance, nothing seemed different.
Just as he was wondering if the second half had been a dud, the two distinct contents of the Cradles within Asimi's body began to fuse. A strange reaction occurred.
The combination rapidly spread through her entire being, causing Asimi to emit points of light like a starry sky. Before long, the power merged completely with her form.
"How do you feel? With such a big light show, there better be some functional upgrades. Otherwise, the special effects are a waste."
Asimi seemed to be digesting the massive power and change. After a long silence, she finally opened her eyes. The eyes that had mimicked the gold-flecked black of Gawain and Melina were now shot through with blue starlight. However, the attribute of the "Gloam Eye" that had been sealed away was nowhere to be found.
To describe her appearance specifically: her pupils were as deep and dark as the void of space, with a galaxy of shimmering stars hidden within. The whites of her eyes were tinged with a faint gold. She looked like a flawless work of art.
"I feel... good. It feels strange, yet familiar. As if this is how it was always meant to be."
Asimi reached out. Bits of the "fake starlight" scattered around the area—fragments of the broken Moon of Nokstella—converged in her palm. She was surprised by the earth-shattering change within herself, finding it difficult to put the sensation into words.
With a single thought, countless stars enveloped her. Her relatively small, androgynous body began to grow and develop, her clothing shifting into something magnificent and regal.
Her attire was distinct from the high-ranking Nox clergy; it was more complex, more opulent, carrying the unique aura of a true monarch. The emblem on her back—the flag of current Stormveil—hadn't vanished; instead, it became even more prominent.
The omnipresent dust of the Moon of Nokstella gathered, merging perfectly into the newborn Night Lord's robes. More of it coalesced into small crystalline clusters, adorning the core of her newly mimicked staff.
Gawain looked at the face before him—nearly identical to his own, but clearly a "gender-bent" version. Seeing Asimi in Nox-style clothing that still retained elements familiar to him, his feelings were complicated.
Specifically, the "development" below her shoulders was quite noticeable even under the loose robes. For some reason, he felt he finally understood how Radagon felt looking at Marika. Self-love was only human, and being "unable to help oneself" was actually quite normal.
As the gathering dust settled, Asimi finished digesting the power of the Cradle. She was now a true Night Lord—at least, the version the Nox had originally designed.
"Now, I finally understand why I developed self-awareness."
"I am the child birthed by the Cradle," she said. "All Silver Tears are a part of me. Everything they mimicked over the vast stretches of time has just returned to my mind."
She savored the massive stream of information; every slight movement she made resonated with the faint starlight in the air.
"This includes all the unlost records of the Nox civilization. Their glorious past and the long ages have become a part of me. Every area covered by the fragments of the broken Moon of Nokstella is now under my control and surveillance. This is what my creators hoped for. I feel... infinite possibilities."
Gawain felt a sense of estrangement. Moments ago, she was a lazy blob; now, she had inherited the collective experience of all Silver Tears and become instantly mature.
No wonder the Nox never worried about the Night Lord being led astray. Over the eons, they had pre-programmed enough behavioral patterns to ensure perfection. A self-aware ruler who could synthesize almost all knowledge would indeed possess infinite possibilities—something that, in some ways, touched upon the level of the Greater Will.
But it had all come too late. The Nox civilization had collapsed at its peak. Even with a Night Lord successfully cultivated, she was currently an empty shell; she still had a long way to go to reach those "infinite possibilities."
"So you're the Night Lord now," Gawain joked. "You aren't going to turn on your host, are you? I'd be heartbroken."
Asimi's expression, which had grown cold with her new persona, flickered. She blinked, and a playful light returned to her eyes. Suppressing the urge to laugh, she reached out and gently stroked her host's face.
"How could I? Just as we first agreed: you helped me obtain the complete Cradle, and in return, my power is yours to command."
"I am the Night Lord of this subterranean Eternal City," she said softly. "But a lonely night has no meaning. The shimmering starlight that fills the dark is the proof of my existence. To me, you are the key that makes the stars revolve in order. Perhaps... adding Sister Melina to that arrangement wouldn't be bad either."
She smiled. "Please, follow me. I will help you achieve the final goal of this journey."
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (252 chapter - Ongoing)
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