The entire classroom district had been completely submerged in viscous, cursed blood. Dark red, putrid liquid writhed and churned across the floor, spreading continuously like a living organism.
Kahndan glanced down at the filth clinging to his armor. The cursed blood hissed as it corroded the metal, daring to attempt to infest a body tempered by the Aspects of the Crucible.
He let out a cold snort, and a dazzling golden light suddenly erupted from his form. The sacred power of the Crucible instantly vaporized the clinging blood, turning it into wisps of foul-smelling black smoke that dissipated into the air.
"It's a good thing the apprentices were sent to the shelters beforehand. Otherwise, who knows how many would have died in a fight like this."
He looked with a hint of sorrow at several Storm Knights collapsed on the ground. They had managed to take down one of the Bell Bearing Hunters, only for the massive quantity of cursed blood within the hunter's body to detonate upon his death.
The Storm Knights, unable to dodge in time, were invaded by the cursed blood, which then exploded from within their bodies, reducing them to a gory, unrecognizable mess.
"Hmph. Paltry tricks from a conspirator, yet troublesome nonetheless. In the face of such power, if one lacks sufficient strength, numbers become a liability."
A burst of blue light flared from Moongrum's shield, cleansing the disgusting blood from its surface.
"Stay alert. There is one Bell Bearing Hunter left, and he is stronger than before. Furthermore, where is the Lord of Blood's phantom? He merged with the blood on the ground and vanished moments ago."
For Mohg's forces, the amount of cursed blood bestowed by the Mother of Truth determined their combat prowess. The more blood one could host, the more formidable they became.
Of course, this was contingent on one's sanity holding out. Otherwise, they would end up like most of the wretched souls wandering the Mohgwyn Palace—becoming mindless, self-detonating infantry who attacked anyone in sight.
However, the two Bell Bearing Hunters Mohg had brought along were not concerns in that regard; they were merely disposable tools.
As the cursed blood from the fallen hunter converged into the body of the remaining one, the last shred of sanity vanished from his eyes. He regressed into a state of pure, feral rage.
"How pathetic. Leave him to me. You return to the Debate Parlor and defend the hub."
Moongrum nodded, leaving the remaining hunter to the Crucible Knight. With the Lord of Blood's phantom still missing, he trusted his comrade could handle the beast without pressure. He felt it best to double back; this sensation of being toyed with left him with a frustrating sense of impotence.
Just as Moongrum stepped into the interior of the Debate Parlor, he felt liquid dripping onto the crown of his head. Without a moment's hesitation, he rolled away from his position. A surge of boiling cursed blood erupted from the floor, flooding the spot where he had just stood.
"Lord of Blood! What is it you seek?!"
The cursed blood permeating the Debate Parlor converged from all directions, finally coalescing into the image of Mohg. He stared at the central hub with a look of genuine appreciation. Even he had to admit it was a work of art. A pity it was about to be destroyed.
He didn't even bother acknowledging Moongrum. With a gentle flourish of his Sacred Spear, the bodies of the Storm Knights who had fallen by his hand rose again in a twisted fashion. Beneath their armor were now bloated, puppet-like husks filled with cursed blood, primed to explode.
"Let them keep you company for a while. I have another individual I must visit personally."
Mohg flashed a dangerous smile and turned to leave. Instantly, the scalding cursed blood gathered into a tidal wave, sweeping over the hub that maintained the seal below. Amidst a violent series of explosions, the Debate Parlor was reduced to ruins.
Moongrum was powerless to stop the sudden catastrophe. While he believed he possessed the strength to contend with the Lord of Blood for a short duration, he had no time to react to Mohg's blunt efficiency in detonating the room.
He could only deal with the blood-puppets before him first, then find another way back to the Grand Library.
Meanwhile, within the Lake of Rot, Gawain ceased his casting of Comet Azur. If he continued, he felt the staff in his hand might actually start smoking. However, the results were impressive; the beam had punched straight through the centipede-like limbs the Goddess of Rot used for defense, inflicting maximum damage in the shortest possible time.
The Goddess of Rot let out a shrill, piercing shriek. Her massive, multi-limbed form convulsed violently, and dark red rot tissue began to slough off like melting wax.
But in an instant, that flowing crimson matter reconsolidated, twisting into a gargantuan maw lined with razor-sharp teeth. This horrifying creation of flesh moved with a sickeningly smooth motion, tracing an eerie path across the ground as it lunged toward its target.
Gawain narrowed his eyes. The sorcerous fire, bolstered by the storm, grew more intense, locking onto the writhing mouth. Just as he was about to release the spell, an anomaly occurred.
The seal enveloping the Lake of Rot shuddered violently. The deep blue barrier of light, having lost its control hub, rapidly overloaded.
With a harsh sound of shattering glass, the seal separating the interior from the exterior suddenly extinguished, dissolving into a sky full of drifting blue shards. The shockwave from the seal's collapse swept through the area, causing the filth of the Lake of Rot to boil, emitting a suffocating stench of decay.
"Master Sellen, what on earth is..."
Gawain was momentarily distracted by the scene. At such a critical moment, a distraction meant a lethal opening. As the Goddess of Rot closed the distance, that abyssal maw swallowed him whole.
As the essence of an Outer God, the tissues composing the Goddess were fundamentally different from the rot found elsewhere. This was a power capable of warping the laws of the world, much like the Elden Ring itself; the only difference lay in its range and intensity.
Under the weight of such an impact, Gawain fell into a brief unconsciousness. The rot tissue, which previously couldn't breach his defenses, now merged with the blazing fire within him, forming a strange state of coexistence.
For a moment, the entire battlefield seemed to fall silent. Everyone was caught off guard by the sudden turn of events.
However, the Goddess of Rot did not take the opportunity to flee the lake that had imprisoned her for countless ages. Instead, her massive body curled into a ball, gradually hardening into the shape of a colossal flower bud, and ceased all movement.
On the shore, Asimi swung her staff forcefully. She had just finished preparing her consciousness projection, only to witness this disaster. Fragmented starlight swirled around her, and a path of glintstone appeared before her eyes. She could no longer sit still and intended to intervene personally.
"No, it is not yet time for you to take the field. We can still hold here; do not let the situation elsewhere suffer."
Lahn reached out to stop the Night Queen. Though he was nervous looking at the giant bud in the center of the lake, he remembered his memory of those two emerging from the mist to slaughter an entire city's worth of Fallingstar Beasts. He managed to calm himself from his initial panic.
"Have a little more faith in him. But until then, we cannot let the situation deteriorate beyond recovery."
Asimi forced herself to calm down. She could clearly feel an incredibly dense aura of life emanating from within that bud. Suddenly, she understood what the Goddess of Rot was trying to do.
Her host likely wasn't in any mortal danger, but the only question was: would the person who emerged from that flower still be the one she knew?
She didn't know what would happen next. All she could do was follow the original plan—to at least ensure the situation in various sectors didn't completely collapse before the turning point arrived.
"I leave this place to you. Even without the seal, do not let a single Kindred of Rot escape this tomb."
Lahn steeled his resolve and turned to his waiting kin.
"Send all the reserves! I don't care about the casualty count; I only demand that not a single rot-spawn leaves this place!"
The Night Maidens in the rear looked at their dwindling reserves and bit their lips. They sent the final batch of dormant Dragonkin Soldiers into the fray to fill the lines, alongside warriors who had volunteered to become spirit puppets over the centuries.
While this prevented immediate disaster, the massive flower at the center hung over everyone's hearts like the Sword of Damocles. Now that the seal's protection was gone, if it were to bloom here, the consequences would be unthinkable.
"This is everyone, My Lord. But if that deity continues to exist... we may have to rely on the authority of the Lord of Night and the channel of the Ainsel River to..."
Lahn waved a hand, signaling his kin to stop. He stared at the battlefield where Frozen Lightning and Aeonian Butterflies clashed. He felt as though he were reliving the earth-shattering wars of antiquity. At this stage, it was simply a contest of which side would break first.
"That isn't everyone. Bring out that batch of war surcoats I had made. Those items were specially treated; they are highly effective against Scarlet Rot."
"But..."
"There are no 'buts.' If it comes to that, you will charge with me."
After speaking, he simply stared silently at the movements in the Lake of Rot. Every time a Dragonkin Soldier was submerged by the tide of Kindred of Rot, the unease in his heart deepened. Standing there, he could feel it—that flower would not remain dormant for long.
"So, are you truly the Lord of Night who has completed the evolution?"
Yavanna looked at the Silver Tear before her who called herself Asimi. Although her heart was almost certain of the identity, she still wanted confirmation.
"Naturally. I can feel the chaos on the battlefield above, so I projected my consciousness from Nokstella. I shall take command of all Silver Tears here."
"Aside from those at the aqueduct that cannot be moved, all other reserves in the city are at your disposal."
Yavanna looked toward the ceiling. Although Nokron had not yet recovered from its past wounds, it had provided as much guidance and support as possible to the Town of Sorcery. The young Night Maiden from Sellia had already returned to her hometown to join the battle.
Asimi nodded. She wasted no time. With a gentle wave of her hand, she assumed control of every Silver Tear in the city. She even activated the power of the Cradle Chalice within her to create as many clones as possible in the shortest time.
A massive silver tide began to climb the stone walls. Even upon reaching the ceiling, it did not stop; the liquid nature of the Silver Tears allowed them to ignore terrain and seep upward.
"Before you leave, can you tell me the situation at the Lake of Rot?"
"Do not worry. Everything is going smoothly. The final outcome will not change; victory belongs to us."
Over the Swamp of Aeonia, under the continuous bombardment of offensive sorceries from the Redmane Castle-Sellia line, the gargantuan entity in the center was suppressed into a defensive state, unable to break the line.
But such suppression could not last. Influenced by the threat of extinction, the Scarlet Rot of all Caelid had condensed into a single mass and begun to boil. This battlefield environment had a severe impact on the front-line warriors.
Even though they could rapidly treat minor rot infections to return to the fight, the Kindred of Rot spawning at any moment from the front, the ground, or even the air were impossible to fully guard against.
As several Kindred of Rot hidden in blind spots fired their pest threads, Elsa's horse let out a mournful cry and collapsed.
She wasn't rattled by the ambush. She merely used the momentum of her falling mount to leap away. As her graceful figure flipped through the air, a vast area around her was blanketed in frost. A violent ice storm instantly froze every moving enemy in the vicinity.
Landing steadily, Elsa performed a horizontal sweep, cleaving the ambushing rot-spawn into pieces. She admitted she had underestimated these things; they were entirely different from the weaklings that usually tested the defenses. Right now, these Kindred of Rot were as frenzied as if they had been touched by the Flame of Frenzy.
In the rear, Galvin quickly pulled a spare horse from the ranks. Looking at the crimson tide still crashing against the battle line, he thought back to when he had watched the Deathroot-stricken Godrick from afar.
Aside from the color, the two were too similar in nature. One was the despair of death; the other was the distortion of life.
"Big Sis, get on the horse! I see another spot calling for backup ahead! Our Crucible Knights are busy with those big ones and can't make it in time!"
Elsa shook the residual tissue from her enchanted blades. To be honest, she couldn't remember how many waves of attacks she had cut down.
"No need. I see Edgar moving toward that spot. Nepheli is watching the other side, so I don't think anything will go wrong there."
"We must continue the original plan and drive these things toward the canyon. The ambush there is ready."
"And we don't know how long the thing in the center can be suppressed. We must inflict damage as quickly as possible."
No sooner had she spoken than the large-scale sorceries from Sellia fell silent, pausing due to prolonged overload. The massive entity in the center of the swamp was suddenly liberated from the rain of attacks.
The wings of Aeonian Butterflies on its back fluttered madly. While they couldn't lift its bloated body into the sky, they provided enough kinetic energy for a charge. The colossal form began to move, attempting to use its sheer mass to crush the border defenses.
Elsa saw the monster charging directly toward her. Taking a deep breath, the orb of light in her hand began to burn. This was her final trump card, and it was time to use it.
But before she could guide the power residing in her soul out, the ground beneath her feet began to tremble violently, interrupting the process. She had expected another batch of ambushing Kindred of Rot, but to her surprise, the things emerging this time were silver.
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (255 chapter - Ongoing)
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