Though Gawain had a general guess regarding the tragedy that had unfolded here, he could only confirm the truth once he met the suffering Midra. He hoped the man would cooperate and allow the seeds of the Frenzied Flame to be handled properly.
He returned to the mural and reached out to touch it. The scene of past happiness dissolved beneath his fingertips. Ascending the stairs, he quickly located a lever.
As the long-sealed mechanism groaned into motion, a bookshelf—one already radiating an eerie aura—slid aside, revealing a hidden passage. It was clear that this was the very area the Hornsent Inquisitors had been desperate to keep concealed.
Just as he was about to investigate, his gaze swept across a secluded corner on the second floor of the library. Tucked away was a small study, where a desiccated corpse in familiar attire sat slumped in a chair, exuding an unspeakable silence.
"That corpse... could it be Nanaya, the mistress of this manse?"
"We'll know once we look. I can feel a faint, constant pulse of the Frenzied Flame coming from her," Melina noted.
Stepping over the rotting floorboards of the second floor, Gawain approached the study with a heavy heart. Before him was a woman, withered into a mummy, slumped in her seat. In her arms, she cradled a spinal cord wreathed in a flickering, weak Frenzied Flame.
Another soul-rending shriek echoed through the manse. This time, it was clear and close; the source was only a wall away.
"Ashmi, don't touch anything. I suspect she is the only reason Midra has managed to hold on for this long."
Gawain stopped the mimic from reaching out to destroy the spinal torch. He touched the wall, sensing that the soul on the other side drew its only strength to endure from the lingering scent of his wife behind this partition, even though both had been utterly defiled by the flame.
His eyes moved across the desk, settling on an intact letter. It looked as if it had been prepared specifically for the day an outsider would eventually breach this place.
Driven by curiosity and the need for truth, Gawain checked for hostile auras before opening the envelope. The letter seemed to be Nanaya's account of the events. As the entries progressed, her elegant handwriting descended into madness.
"...Master Midra brought back some peculiar fossils from those ancient ruins. The servants often complained that the fossils made them feel unwell, but for some reason, when I fall asleep at night, I always see a comforting candlelight..."
"...Master Midra seemed to discover something anomalous within those fossils. He quickly had them moved and buried in the center of the Abyssal Woods. I tried to ask why, but he gave no answer. I could see deep-seated dread and fear in his eyes. But what is this strange feeling lingering in my heart? No, if Master Midra has forbidden it, he must have his reasons..."
"...After learning I was with child, I began to feel a slight pain in my belly. I believe this child will grow horns that we will be proud of. I embraced Master Midra with excitement, yet I could see a trace of worry behind his joy. Recalling the 'accidents' that befell some of my sisters in Belurat, I understood his concern. But I believe I am ready. For the one I love, what is a small risk?"
"A master painter visited us today. No matter what the future holds, at least the beauty of this moment will be preserved in this oil painting, much like the beautiful scenery at the manse entrance..."
(The handwriting begins to turn jagged and distorted)
"...What happened? The child's divinely-bestowed horns should have taken my life, yet why am I alive again? Why has that 'candlelight' that had vanished reappeared in my mind? If this is the miracle of the Divine Beasts granting me rebirth, then why is there no joy on Master Midra's face?"
"...No, this is not how it should be. The beautiful and peaceful environment of the Abyssal Woods is changing. A servant encountered a strange old man while out; though he returned alive, not a patch of his skin remained whole. Master Midra did what he could to heal him, but it was futile. It was then that I realized terrifying changes were happening within the manse. Even the fossils once removed have been brought back. I can feel the guidance of a certain will within them..."
"...Lately, I feel as if another 'me' exists in my mind. It is like a parasite, unbearable. Yet, strangely, my anxious heart has been soothed. Even as I watch our former life vanish, at least Master Midra is still by my side. My King, please bring eternal peace to us all..."
"They have broken in. Led by the most famous Inquisitor Elder from Belurat, Jori. They have seized the butler and every servant. After unbearable torture, they were met with merciless execution. I finally know why I was reborn. I see now... I am the source of all the pain and tragedy. Even the deepest despair cannot separate us; everything will become the Great One."
"Fearing they would break Master Midra's spirit, the Inquisitors allowed me to live, though I am imprisoned here. In these final moments, I... we... asked Master Midra to endure. Behind this wall is the man I love. Even with only a wall between us, I cannot see him. I can only listen to his wails of eternal punishment. Stranger who reads this letter, please deliver my 'candlelight' to Master Midra. The time for endurance is over."
Finishing the letter, Gawain looked at the desiccated corpse in silence. This was the horror of the Frenzied Flame—it could turn a gentle mistress into a devotee so maddened she appeared rationally calm.
But this "rebirth" was different from what he had imagined. It wasn't a possession like Shabriri or Hyetta; Nanaya seemed to have truly been reborn with her memories and emotions, only to be warped into a Frenzied Flame Maiden by the fire's influence.
Perhaps it was the Hornsent talent for "attuning" to spirits. After Nanaya died in childbirth, Midra, in his despair, was infected by the seed of the flame. He broke his own moral codes and, after contacting the Three Fingers, used forbidden means to bring back his wife. Because of the nature of horns and souls, Nanaya truly returned, but she inevitably began to drift toward something inhuman.
This dark research was hidden from the servants, who were infected without knowing. By the time they realized, it was too late. Under Nanaya's subtle influence, the flame spread through the Abyssal Woods, attracting the "Aged Ones." Once the situation spiraled out of control, the Hornsent sent their elite Inquisitors to seal the flame.
Midra did all of this for his wife. Thus, when Nanaya was captured, he voluntarily accepted the cruelest torture and seal.
If Gawain could move Midra from his current unstable seal to a more reliable one, it would save a lot of trouble. From the information gathered, Midra seemed like a relatively reasonable person if communication was possible. The letter suggested he had initially tried to stay away from the power.
Wait... something's wrong. If Nanaya had truly become a Frenzied Flame Maiden at the end, why would she—as his wife—plead for him to "endure" when the Inquisitors burst in? And this letter, left here as if anticipating an outsider's arrival... there was a scheme behind this.
Gawain set the letter back on the desk. As he did, the distorted script seemed to be ignited by the heat in the air, crumbling into ash. As the ash touched Nanaya's corpse, the lingering flame within her resonated with the spinal torch in her arms. The torch erupted into a violent, roaring yellow fire.
Ashmi was startled by the sudden flare and scrambled back. "I-I didn't do anything! It just started burning!"
Gawain's eyes sharpened. He saw through the trap instantly. Nanaya—or the reborn Maiden—had been the architect of this from the start. The purpose was to let the fledgling Lord of Frenzied Flame grow powerful enough, and the fuel needed for that power was a despair deep enough to swallow everything.
He looked at the wall—or rather, the other side of it. Before the torch crumbled into powder, its concentrated aura had already penetrated the wall, seeping into Midra's prison and presenting the cruel truth to him without any veil.
Everything—even the eventual arrival of an outsider breaking through the Inquisitors' watch—had been part of Nanaya's plan. Whether it was the torture or the curiosity of a stranger reading the letter, the goal was one: to make the seed of the flame erupt at the perfect moment.
Gawain didn't hesitate. He gathered power into a Storm Stomp and kicked the wall down. He didn't have time to take the long way around.
Just as the letter said, Midra and Nanaya were separated by only a single wall.
Melina followed him into the room, her gaze alert. The seal on her gloam-colored eye had been partially released, and her hand gripping the Blade of Calling was slick with sweat.
Behind the wall was a vast, empty hall. Only one person was imprisoned there: the yet-to-be-fully-formed Lord of Frenzied Flame, the true master of the manse.
He was a man emaciated beyond belief, his body twisted by a horrific instrument of torture. He looked at the intruders with an expression of pure agony and sorrow.
When Gawain saw the device impaling Midra, even he—having seen every manner of inhumanity—gasped. The Hornsent's capacity for cruelty had reached a new low.
It was a tool shaped like a massive fan of tree roots. A central shaft, like a leaf's midrib, was driven straight through the top of Midra's head. Below, countless golden barbs pierced his skeletal torso. It was impossible to imagine how such a massive device had been driven into him, but it had successfully—if temporarily—sealed the eruption of the flame.
The macabre device forced Midra's head into a permanent, awkward upward tilt. The "roots" of the golden barbs tore through his chest and emerged from his ribs. Midra no longer possessed the dignity of a sage; he merely stared upward, gazing toward the faint light of the torch from the other side.
His scalp was torn, the skin on one side of his face bunched up, and he was nearly blind. The only thing clear in his vacant eyes was the final message left by his wife—or the thing masquerading as his wife.
"Midra, stay calm! Do not let the flame spread!" Gawain shouted. He wanted to grant the man a swift end; regardless of anything else, to endure such torture for so long through sheer obsession earned his respect, even if the man was a Hornsent corrupted by the flame.
As if he hadn't heard a word, Midra let muddy tears fall from his one functional eye. His voice came in a blurred rasp.
"Nanaya... was it all a lie? You were already dead... what did the flame bring back? Why do you reveal this cruel truth to me now? What was the point of my endurance...?"
Seeing that the situation was beyond salvage, Gawain braced for battle.
"Ashmi, take Melina and get out of here now! Leave this to me! He's about to blow!"
"That Lord of Frenzied Flame has been holding it in for God knows how long," Ashmi said. "The accumulated despair of all those years is going to be insane when it erupts. Even if you can absorb the flame, be careful!"
Though Melina hesitated, Ashmi pulled her through a portal, taking her to a safe area outside the manse.
"Forgive me, Nanaya..." Midra's voice was slow but firm. He reached up and grasped the device impaling his head, his palms being shredded by the barbs as he used the leverage to pull.
"AAAAAAAGH!"
With a soul-shattering shriek, Midra pulled the massive blade—one that had long since fused with his body—upward. He tore it out, along with his own head.
During the long years of torture, Midra had been on the verge of collapse countless times. When he was first researching the fossils from the ruins, he had understood the nature of the flame and taken precautions.
But Nanaya's death cost him his reason. If he hadn't touched the flame in the past, this punishment would never have fallen upon a man of his status. If he hadn't surrendered and accepted the punishment, instead slaughtering the Inquisitors, he wouldn't have ended up like this.
But Midra knew it was impossible. No matter how many times he made the choice, he would end up here. He could not accept Nanaya's death. Because of that, even as she became increasingly "wrong" after her rebirth, he turned a blind eye, immersing himself in a false happiness, waiting for the day of judgment.
Yet, as a sage and a scholar, he knew the magnitude of his sin. He accepted the pain of the punishment as his penance. In the eternal agony of the golden barbs, Nanaya's words were his pillar.
"Please, endure."
That phrase was the most twisted curse of all.
And today, everything Midra held onto had been shattered. When the Frenzied Flame carrying Nanaya's scent appeared before him, Midra finally had to face the truth he had avoided.
That "Nanaya" knew him too well. By resurrecting his wife, she had ensured there was no turning back for him. Was this despair what she had wanted?
Before his soul was completely melted, Midra cast one last look at the stranger before him—the one who had broken the cycle of punishment. His only hope now was that the stranger could stop what was about to happen.
As Midra's body rose from the floor, a sun of Frenzied Flame ignited atop the headless neck. The golden instrument of torture had become a toy for the Lord of Frenzied Flame, its barbs twisting and coalescing into a grotesque greatsword.
As the lucid grief faded, despair transformed into an elegant madness.
Two completely different fires illuminated the former prison.
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash
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