"You wish to know of the power of Invocation?"
Ansbach stroked his beard. He saw no reason to hide the truth, and after reflecting on his discoveries within the Tower Settlement, he began to speak slowly.
"My knowledge is limited, but as Belurat was the last major stronghold held by the Hornsent, I have been able to glean a few insights from the stone tablets found here."
Gawain raised an eyebrow. He wondered how a Pureblood Knight became such an expert in epigraphy. Did he spend his days in the Mohgwyn Dynasty studying ancient ruins and stone tablets?
As the topic shifted to scholarship, the lingering killing intent around Ansbach vanished, making him appear every bit the learned sage.
"The Hornsent are fundamentally different from the humans currently inhabiting the Lands Between. You are likely familiar with the deformed infants known as the 'Omen' back home."
"That seemingly grotesque appearance is actually a form of atavism—a regression to a more primal state of life. It is the power of the Crucible."
"The Crucible of Life?" Gawain remarked. "I've heard of it. The Crucible Knights wield its various aspects, though they don't exactly sprout horns all over their bodies."
Ansbach nodded. "That is the defining characteristic of the Hornsent. Even my lord, Mohg, shared this trait."
"The horns upon a Hornsent's head are shaped like the spirals they revere. Through specific rites, these horns can attract the gaze of outer deities. This is the ritual known as Invocation."
"The Spirit Ash you saw earlier was something I retrieved from the corpses of Hornsent ancestors. They were massive, far exceeding their smaller kin in size. That was the result of the power gained through Invocation. I believe you encountered several such 'unique' Hornsent on your way here."
Gawain recalled clearing out the shadows at the Scorched Ruins. He had indeed seen many Hornsent who, even as charred spirits, were several sizes larger than the others. Then there were the specialized ones, like the Curseblades, whose horns far surpassed those of their weaker brethren.
He had originally thought only beings as powerful as Mohg could receive the favor and strength of an outer god. Now it seemed it was a racial talent: the bigger the horns, the more power one could receive.
No wonder Marika had sealed the Hornsent away and harbored such fear of the Omen. If anyone with a horn could summon all manner of eldritch horrors from the stars, it was certainly a recipe for disaster.
Ansbach continued with several crucial pieces of information he had personally verified within the city.
"You likely understand now why these Hornsent are so troublesome. Those who have accepted a 'descending' god are known as Hornsent Warriors. Most of the Hornsent you see who still maintain a physical, 'normal' form are powerful warriors of this type."
"From the records on the tablets and my own experiences, I have identified three distinct tiers."
"The lowest tier wanders Belurat even now. Clad in heavy armor, the power of Invocation allows them to shrug off almost any impact. they will remain standing, fighting until the very moment of death."
"The next level up are the Divine Beast Warriors. Compared to ordinary Hornsent Warriors, the divine power they channel is on a different level entirely. They can even influence their surroundings, manifesting characteristics of a Lord's Law."
Gawain imagined the scene. He finally understood why Belurat hadn't been completely razed yet. If the lore for these warriors was this broken, he'd have a hard time if he had to fight several "Mohgs" at once.
"And the final tier?"
"The final tier belongs to the legendary 'Braves.' I have never seen one personally; I only know of them through fragments on the tablets."
"It is said that only a warrior who can perfectly host the power of a Divine Beast can be called a Brave. In battle, these Braves perform the Lion Dance, summoning the Divine Beast they worship to inhabit their bodies as a vessel of power."
Ansbach turned back, his gaze falling upon the spiral structures that bore the unmistakable marks of fire.
"It is said that the Crusade led by Lord Messmer once clashed with those invoked Divine Beast Dancing Lions. To avoid drawing unnecessary attention, I did not explore the entirety of the Tower Settlement, but you may well find the remains of a Dancing Lion deep within this city."
"Even now, the Hornsent inside worship the corpses of their ancestors, desperately trying to summon the arrival of a Brave."
"I'll keep an eye out," Gawain said.
After a moment's hesitation, Ansbach added one last detail—something he clearly found distasteful.
"I suggest you don't waste your time looking at the lowest depths of the Tower Settlement. There is nothing special there, only a truly repulsive creature."
"Those beings were once Hornsent, but after falling ill, they mutated into humanoid, fly-like creatures. Their kin have penned them into the lowest levels of the city."
"I do not know why they do this. Perhaps they seek to harvest something from those Fly-men, but the sight is... quite unbearable."
"You've got to be kidding me. There are Fly-men here too?"
The mere mention of Fly-men made Gawain feel nauseous. He remembered the "fly room" in the Painted World. Honestly, he'd rather go have a "cozy" chat with the Sulyvahn's Beasts in Irithyll than wander through another place like that.
"Oh? Judging by your reaction, you have encountered such creatures before?"
"I have. It is not a fond memory."
His opinion of the Hornsent plummeted several notches. He felt like they belonged at the same table as the Misbegotten—no, actually, lower. At least he knew a decent Misbegotten like Hewg, and he quite liked the Lion Misbegotten at Redmane Castle.
Because his first impression was so poor, Gawain hadn't felt much sympathy when he heard Messmer had started a war to burn them. Now, that feeling was even stronger.
An accidental curse was one thing, but intentionally farming mutated, diseased kin in a pen was beyond the pale.
I'm a kind-hearted soul, Gawain thought. I can't stand to see those Fly-men suffer. If I get the chance, I'll put them out of their misery.
Messmer was a bit lax, too. He'd made it into the city, so why were there still so many unburnt Hornsent Warriors and Fly-men? Had something gone wrong mid-crusade?
"Leda, I'm about ready to head in. What about you? Moving together or what?"
Leda looked at the missing sections on her map and pondered for a moment before shaking her head.
"Let's move separately. There are too many gaps in our knowledge of Belurat; splitting up is more efficient. I trust your strength is enough to keep you safe."
"Freyja and I should have enough combat power to protect ourselves as well." She pointed to the high tower shrouded in shadow. "We shall regroup there."
"Alright. See you then."
As Leda headed back to find Freyja, Gawain prepared to enter Belurat with Melina, but Moore called out to him.
"These... items... for you."
Moore held out his large pot, showing Gawain some useful supplies: Stonesword Keys, Neutralizing Boluses, and the like. Though Gawain didn't have much use for them, he accepted the gifts as a gesture of goodwill.
The boy didn't seem particularly bright, but he was friendly enough—though Gawain couldn't help but notice a faint scent of Scarlet Rot clinging to him.
After bidding farewell to Ansbach and the others, Gawain and Melina headed into the Tower Settlement. After their conversation, Gawain's impression of Miquella's followers had actually improved.
Aside from the weirdo Hornsent, the others seemed fairly normal. Freyja lived for the "thrill of battle," which fit his stereotype of the Redmane Army; Ansbach didn't act like a Pureblood Knight at all; and Moore was just a shy, good-natured kid.
Ascending the stairs flanked by spiral pillars, Gawain finally stood before the massive city gates. He looked up at the carvings of Hornsent on the doors; they were depicted in prayer, desperately pleading for a god to descend upon them.
It was clear now that no amount of prayer could change their tragic end. Perhaps their disaster was the direct result of such a twisted faith.
He pushed the heavy doors open. Inside was a dark environment with a long set of stairs. According to Ansbach's map, they had to cross this area to truly enter the city proper.
A warm light illuminated the gloom. He could faintly see arthropod creatures crawling on the ceiling.
As Gawain used Starlight to light up the area, a glob of silver substance oozed out of his body. The wriggling mass quickly mimicked a human form. It was Asimi, and she was currently stuffing Revered Spirit Ash into her mouth. After swallowing, she shivered and wiped her mouth with satisfaction.
"Is it really that good?" Gawain asked. "I gave up all those Scadutree Fragments just to trade for Spirit Ash for you. I expect results that satisfy me."
Suddenly, his eyes widened as he looked Asimi up and down. Something was off. The aura she was giving off was... a bit too strong.
"Wait, is it just me, or do you feel like you can hit harder than I can right now? Are you a local here or something?"
Asimi let out a satisfied burp. Having eaten so much Spirit Ash at once, she felt quite full. She said with a smug grin, "That Spirit Ash just significantly boosted my power within this Land of Shadow. And don't forget, you are my host. We are in a symbiotic relationship. When you absorbed those Scadutree Fragments earlier, I benefited as well."
"So, I've essentially been buffed twice. It seems your plan worked. Since you're still heavily suppressed by the Shadow, as long as you don't go berserk, it looks like I actually have more explosive power than you do right now."
"Well, what can I say? You are my host. Let me take the lead this time. Just remember to find more Spirit Ash for me later."
Gawain rolled his eyes. He didn't even want to start with her. The "avatar" that had followed him into the Land of Shadow was effectively "offline" from the main body back in the Lands Between, meaning its initial power was close to zero. She had spent the whole trip draining power from him to top herself off, and now she suddenly felt like she was the boss.
Then again, he shouldn't be surprised. This was the Mimic Tear, after all—it scaled off the host's stats. Now that it was further enhanced by Spirit Ash, it was likely in a league of its own, just like in the game's DLC.
"Fine. I'll take it easy for once. I'll leave the fighting with the Fly-men to you later."
Asimi's bravado immediately deflated. She scurried behind Melina. She had sent this avatar along to see the sights of the Land of Shadow—after all, she could multi-task her duties in the Eternal City and Stormveil—but she had absolutely no desire to roll around in a cesspool.
"Uh, forget that. Didn't that old veteran tell you? There's nothing to see down there. Let's head toward the central area instead."
"But before that... the scorpions are coming. Get ready."
Since she had lost face, Asimi decided to vent her frustration on the scorpions. She stepped out from behind Melina, her right hand mimicking a Greatsword. With a single swing, she cleaved a lunging scorpion clean in half.
Gawain didn't sit idly by; he joined the fray. He wanted Asimi to know that even suppressed, his combat prowess was far beyond a mere Mimic Tear.
To be fair, while the scorpions looked intimidating, their actual combat strength was mediocre. They shattered after only a few hits. They reminded him of the Giant Crayfish in Liurnia; if Big Boggart were here, he'd probably boil the lot of them.
Melina watched the two of them engage in their childish rivalry with a helpless smile. She followed quietly, her hand lightly tracing the walls, observing the complex patterns carved into the stone.
The memories her mother had left her were fragmented here at the Tower Settlement. She was curious about what had happened; perhaps the secrets her mother wished to hide were buried right here.
Breaking through the scorpion blockade, the group passed through a narrow corridor. Aside from the scorpions they had just killed, the floor was littered with older corpses—evidence of an earlier battle.
Gawain surmised this was Ansbach's handiwork. Though he hadn't seen the old man fight, the shape of the slash wounds suggested a scythe. A Pureblood Knight who uses a scythe? That sounds pretty cool. Hope I don't have to face him in a 'classic duel in a moonlit clearing' later.
Snapping back to reality, he realized they had entered a large hall. The candles and decorations suggested a religious site. In the center of the hall was a massive Hornsent corpse—likely the "ancestor" Ansbach had mentioned. Those horns were indeed enormous.
Asimi walked up and brushed the edge of the corpse. There were a few bits of Spirit Ash left behind, which she promptly absorbed.
Gawain looked away from the corpse to scan the room. Ansbach had likely been in a hurry while being chased, so many areas were left unlooted. For instance, just ahead was an exquisite-looking box, seemingly holding some kind of treasure.
He walked over, his mind racing with possibilities. This was the Land of Shadow, a place teeming with all sorts of horrors, and they were in Belurat, the last city of the Hornsent. A treasure kept in a religious hall like this surely had to be an Ancient Dragon Smithing Stone, at the very least.
He had been in the Lands Between for so long and hadn't seen a single living Ancient Dragon. The only two stones he had were from Leda. Could he finally be getting a bonus today?
Filled with anticipation, he flipped the chest open. Then, he couldn't help but let out a curse.
"Are you serious? Why is there a Somber Smithing Stone [1] here? Even the miners in the Weeping Peninsula are too lazy to pick these up!"
For a moment, his mental state felt like it was fracturing. His eyes caught a glimmer of light nearby—faint, covered by shadow. He knew it was likely a Golden Rune. He reached out to grab it and looked closely.
Shadow Realm Rune [1].
Gawain almost burst out laughing in resignation. It seemed the greatest value Belurat held for him was its history. As for legendary weapons or items... he wasn't going to hold his breath.
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (330 chapter - Ongoing)
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