Though the items he had found so far were nothing but useless junk, Gawain consoled himself with the thought that Ansbach must have swiped all the good loot during his own exploration, leaving only these scraps behind.
The trio ascended together. Leaving the grand hall, they climbed another long, grueling flight of stairs before finally emerging from the cramped interior. Spread out before them was a derelict street, with a swarm of shadowy figures wandering in the distance.
Gawain pushed against a heavy set of double doors nearby, but they wouldn't budge. They seemed to be barred from the other side. Since forcing them open would create enough noise to alert every enemy in the vicinity, he decided not to poke the hornet's nest just yet.
To the left, however, was a small wooden door. It was locked, but that didn't stop him. He kicked it open, only to find a steep drop leading into a massive pool of toxic sludge. Within the mire, he could see winged, humanoid creatures—the Fly-men—crawling sluggishly about.
"Yeah, no thanks. We'll save the sewer tour for last."
He decided to stick to the main path. In his experience, the "Level Designer" rarely hid the most important items in the literal gutter. There was no point wasting time in the margins.
The fire-ravaged streets were a ruin, yet they were packed with the characteristic malice of a "Soulslike" world. He couldn't walk more than a few paces without several shadows dropping from rooftops to lunge at him.
His vision was partially obscured by the pervasive gloom of the Land of Shadow, making it difficult to spot every ambush. Most of the Hornsent here were like the ones on the Gravesite Plain—capable of blending perfectly into their surroundings.
Gawain and Asimi took the lead, clearing out the constant stream of ambushers. The occasional loot dropped by these shadows consisted of petty, nonsensical baubles that failed to pique his interest.
Before long, they arrived at a wider plaza. To one side was a reservoir where water cascaded down from above. A group of shadowy Hornsent were gathered there, kneeling in prayer to something unseen. A few were even cupping the water and bringing it to their parched lips.
"What is this, some kind of 'exclusive dining club' for the deranged? Can't I just explore one normal city for once?" Gawain muttered, his annoyance rising.
The pool was filled with a yellowish liquid, dotted with floating, unidentifiable clumps, while a steady stream of sewage poured in from the drainage pipes above. The Hornsent seemed to have a bizarre fixation on this; they had built their drainage system to empty directly into the plaza for what looked like a public banquet.
A couple of them were even sitting directly beneath the sewage waterfall with their heads tilted back, looking for all the world like they were enjoying a spa day.
Sensing intruders, the shadows scrambled to their feet and attacked. One Hornsent, significantly larger than the rest, lunged from behind the sewage waterfall. He looked like the "head chef" of this disgusting establishment, having claimed the prime spot for himself.
Disgusted, Gawain slammed his foot onto the pavement. The Hoarfrost Stomp sent a wave of freezing mist across the ground, instantly turning the splashing sewage into shards of ice and erupting into a forest of ice crystals that impaled the shadows.
This seemingly random act of violence appeared to trigger a collective bout of PTSD in the remaining enemies. The shadows that had been lurking nearby scattered, retreating as if some horrific memory had been jogged.
Even after being burned repeatedly and losing their minds, some traumas remained etched into their very souls. Memories of fire—and memories of impalement.
Gawain briefly thought of Leda's pristine white-and-gold surcoat. If she had to explore this place, she was going to have a miserable time.
Leaving the Hornsent "dining area," they rounded a corner and found a well-protected well. Gawain was curious about where it led. Experience told him it was likely a shortcut, but the stench wafting from within made him hesitate.
"Asimi, you said you wanted to lead the way. Go down and check it out. I'll deal with those snipers up there first."
Though clearly reluctant, Asimi sensed something unique below. There seemed to be enough solid ground at the bottom to avoid landing directly in a cesspool.
As his "unlucky volunteer" descended to clear the path, Gawain looked up at the shadows on the high ledges. They were casting a strange, spiral-shaped golden incantation.
It was a unique offensive prayer of the Land of Shadow. These Hornsent truly couldn't do anything without their spirals. But since a spiral was composed of two intertwining strands, he wondered what two entities the Hornsent believed were entwined to give the symbol such holy significance.
He looked up thoughtfully at the Scadutree, which cast its veil over the entire land. He suspected that thing was inextricably linked to the shadow obscuring the heart of Belurat.
A short while later, Asimi climbed back out of the well, looking thoroughly disgusted. Gawain had already cleared the path ahead. Stowing his staff, he turned to her.
"Well? Any paths worth mentioning? Ansbach's map didn't show much for that area."
After cleaning herself off, Asimi held out a pot of red grease.
"I found this among the piles of corpses below. It seems to be a left-over from the Crusade."
"It carries a very specific power. Compared to the grease found in the Lands Between, its range of effect is much larger. It's like the..."
"Like the Furnace Giant," Melina finished, staring at the vivid red grease. "This is grease imbued with my brother's power. Like the giants we saw, this is a trace of his presence here."
Melina reached out, took a small dollop of the grease, and ignited it. The brilliant red flame flared to life at her fingertip. There was a power within that small flame that felt deeply familiar to her. She stared into it, mesmerized, seemingly unaware that the surrounding shadows grew slightly paler in its light.
Gawain caught the fleeting phenomenon and immediately realized its significance. Thinking of Messmer's identity, a dozen theories flashed through his mind. He looked at Melina, but decided to keep his thoughts to himself for now. Instead, he took the grease from Asimi and changed the subject.
"Aside from the grease, find anything else?"
"The well leads to a drainage channel filled with corpses. I smashed through a barred gate and found a massive poison swamp at the end. It likely connects to the area behind that door you kicked open earlier."
Asimi added a new detail she had noticed upon closer inspection of the mire.
"I'm certain there's an Ulcerated Tree Spirit hiding in that poison, its color completely warped by the filth. There's also a Hornsent Warrior patrolling the area."
"But more importantly, I felt a very peculiar aura. If I had to describe it... it felt like Abundance."
Gawain nodded. That definitely made it worth a visit. In his memory, "Abundance" was tied to Miquella. Was it something he had left behind?
However, for now, he wanted to stick to the map and head upward. He was looking for the "Divine Beast Dancing Lion" Ansbach had mentioned. He could loop back to the sewers on his way out of Belurat.
"We'll leave the sewers for now. And Melina, don't go touching that stuff. It came from a literal sewer; it's filthy. Let Asimi carry it."
Ignoring Asimi's aggrieved look, Melina nodded with a smile. The slight traces of grime on her fingertips were swept away by a sudden, moist breeze.
"Yes. I simply lost myself for a moment seeing such familiar power. Let us continue."
She looked toward the higher levels of the city. She could feel someone wielding similar power lurking up there. After a moment's thought, she decided to veil her presence completely. For now, she didn't want to be noticed.
That Hornsent earlier had nearly recognized her. The soldiers of the Crusade, who wielded her brother's power, would be even more perceptive. It was better to remain low-profile.
Following the cleared streets, Gawain consulted the map and entered a private residence. At a fork on the second floor, the path split.
One way led to the skybridge where the snipers had been; the other continued upward toward the heart of the Tower Settlement.
"Wait. There's someone strange in that storehouse across the bridge. I can hear them. Let's check it out first."
He stopped Asimi, who was ready to charge ahead. They crossed the skybridge to the opposite building. Through the iron door, he could hear a steady, rhythmic snoring—completely different from the groans of the shadows.
Gawain used his brute strength to lift the iron door off its hinges. He stepped into a room that looked like a warehouse, filled with assorted junk. Though cluttered, the room hadn't been scorched by fire like the rest of the city; it was remarkably well-preserved.
He quickly found the source of the snoring. It was a hunched-over old woman sitting at a table, lost in a peaceful sleep.
Though she looked like a frail, elderly crone, the horns on her head were staggeringly large. They had grown so long they had actually pierced through her eye sockets, almost completely obscuring her vision. In the Lands Between, she would be considered an Omen on the level of the twins. This suggested she held an extraordinary status among the Hornsent.
"Should we...?" Asimi made a "cutthroat" gesture. She sensed something strange about the old woman. Her state wasn't just sleep; it was a deep form of meditation, her consciousness communicating with something external. Asimi thought it best not to leave her alive.
"No, let her be. If she were capable of doing anything, she wouldn't have stayed like this while the war raged for so long."
Gawain looked at the crone and hesitated before lowering his weapon. Despite his poor impression of the Hornsent, he couldn't bring himself to strike down a non-threatening old woman.
Just as there were murderous Misbegotten in Castle Morne but also exceptions like Master Hewg or Boc the Seamster, he saw no need to slaughter those who weren't actively hostile.
Furthermore, since a Hornsent was following Miquella and providing the maps they were currently using, it suggested that at least some of them were worth communicating with. She might eventually provide more insight into the Land of Shadow.
After a quick search found nothing of interest, he led Asimi out of the storehouse, leaning the heavy iron door back into its frame.
Ignoring the strange crone, the two returned to the fork and continued their ascent. According to the map, they were now entering the upper tiers of Belurat.
Compared to the lower buildings, the decorations here were far more exquisite. However, the destruction was also more total. Collapsed buildings were everywhere; it seemed this had been the primary battlefield when the Crusade breached the city.
It was here that they encountered their first Hornsent Warrior.
Gawain sized up the figure clad in heavy armor and wielding a massive curved blade. Just as Ansbach had described, his horns were much longer than those of his shadowy kin, and he stood nearly as tall as a Crucible Knight.
The moment the warrior spotted the intruders, he slammed his blade into the ground. The steel glowed with a golden light, and a shockwave erupted beneath Gawain and Asimi almost instantly.
Feeling the vibration, Gawain leaped into the air. The spot where he had been standing was suddenly covered by a cluster of twisted, golden Omen horns. This guy was definitely a cut above the Curseblades.
Gawain aimed his Greatsword at the warrior's left shoulder and swung with everything he had. The sheer kinetic energy of the blade carved through the shoulder plate and bit deep into the flesh.
Based on his vast combat experience, a hit like that against a human-sized enemy should have sent them sprawling or at least broken their stance. Reality wasn't a game with fixed poise bars; a heavy blow usually forced a staggering animation. Even a Crucible Knight would flinch.
But reality defied his expectations. Gawain watched in disbelief as the Hornsent Warrior didn't even wobble.
"Are you kidding me? You didn't even budge? Not even a Crucible Knight is this much of a poise-beast."
The Hornsent Warrior acted as if the strike hadn't even happened, swinging his massive blade in a counterattack.
CLANG!
With a crisp parry, a powerful shockwave erupted from within Gawain. This was the effect of the Deflecting Hardtear he had obtained from the Furnace Giant. With Melina right behind him, he never had to worry about the timing or duration.
Blasted by the immense counter-force, even the Hornsent Warrior's iron-willed stance broke. He was forced to drop to one knee.
"Alright, this stuff works. Let's see just how high your poise actually goes."
Gawain's Greatsword became a blur, wreathed in storm-winds as he slammed it down onto the warrior's shoulder again.
It was effective. The blade shattered the heavy armor and buried itself in the meat. But an attack that would have flipped a Crucible Knight onto its back only managed to knock the Hornsent Warrior to the ground for a split second.
With no delay, the warrior ignored his wounds and performed an agile roll, springing back to his feet and widening the distance. He possessed a speed that seemed entirely at odds with his tank-like resilience.
However, the blood pouring from his shoulder and abdomen proved that those two hits had taken a toll.
"Wait... is this the power of Invocation?" Gawain glanced at Asimi, who understood immediately and vanished from sight.
Sensing that he would eventually bleed out if the stalemate continued, the Hornsent Warrior decided to risk it all. He launched a final, desperate charge.
But the moment he stepped forward, Asimi materialized behind him in a burst of glinting blue starlight. A wave of bone-chilling frost erupted from her, striking the warrior with surgical precision.
The massive Omen horns atop the warrior's head—the source of his pride—snapped under the impact. Half of the horn crashed to the floor, and blood geysered from the stump. The rock-steady stance that had seemed one with the earth finally wavered in agony. But he was committed; he continued his charge.
Seeing his theory confirmed, Gawain's body flared with purple light. Rock fragments filled the gaps in his armor as he took a heavy step forward, the ground cracking beneath his weight.
The two figures collided with a thunderous impact. Without his horns to serve as a medium for Invocation, the warrior could no longer maintain his supernatural resilience. His massive frame was sent flying.
A violent storm-wind then caught him in mid-air, swirling his body before a surge of gravity slammed him back into the pavement.
The warrior tried to rise, but Gawain's Greatsword pinned him down. Though he was still remarkably tough, he was now finally susceptible to the impact of the blade.
"I see. You Hornsent can't use that divine power without your horns acting as a conduit. No wonder the Golden Order cuts the horns off the Omen back home."
After taking several more crushing blows while pinned to the ground, the Hornsent Warrior finally went still.
Gawain picked up the warrior's fallen blade and funneled his own power into it, mimicking the skill he had just seen. As he plunged the blade into the ground, a wave of golden energy rippled outward, erupting into a thicket of Omen horns that pulverized a wandering shadow in the distance.
As he looked at his spoils, a realization struck him—one that suggested this Crusade might not be as simple as it appeared.
Logically, the Hornsent's power should have been like that of the Crucible Knights—a mixture of gold and red, representing the primal Crucible of Life.
But why was the Hornsent Warrior's skill, and the prayers of the shadows, such a pure, brilliant gold? That was the color of the Golden Order's miracles.
Was Marika truly the sworn, polar opposite of these people?
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (330 chapter - Ongoing)
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