As long as Millicent and I do not leave, there will inevitably be a chance.
"That is fine too. Her target is too large, and it would be bad if she were targeted by Edred; it would inevitably drag me down with her when the time comes."
"I cannot be bothered with you."
Melina did not even want to think anymore, leaning down to observe Millicent closely.
"The Scarlet Rot on her is very heavy."
"Nonsense, Millicent is a source of rot, so how could it not be heavy?"
Throne wiped the meat scraps from the corner of his mouth back into his mouth, his expression gradually turning serious.
"Her Scarlet Rot is different from an ordinary person's. When life reaches its end, a Scarlet Flower will bloom, and that is not something to be trifled with."
The Kindred of Rot making such a huge scene naturally means they are plotting something big; perhaps the situation is even worse than Throne imagined. After all, back in the time of the Tarnished, the Kings of Rot had long since been reduced to ashes, but now they are living quite well.
Melina did not quite understand these troublesome matters and only asked one question: "You will handle it, right?"
"She is my student and also a product that came into existence because of me; you do not need to remind me of this."
Throne walked to the window and looked outside through the gap; the behemoths in the sky were still patrolling, his gaze deep.
"Besides, I have set up such a grand play, am I not already handling it?"... The dragons were patrolling, and the corrupted animals were hiding in the forest, shrouding the inside and outside of Sellia. If this were ten years ago, this kind of blockade would be useless, because the village would always notice something was wrong. But now, Caelid has concentrated its population in strongholds.
The stronghold closest to Sellia is Fort Faroth to the northeast, which is the outpost for subjugating dragons; it was obviously surrounded like an iron bucket long ago. Of course, the Redmane are not fools. Within two days, this news will reach Redmane Castle, but gathering troops will still take time.
As for the allied forces of the three tribes only surrounding and not attacking, it is actually simple. Being soft-hearted is impossible, but this matter was also very sudden for them. Tracing it back to the root, it was initially just an accidental event to seize Millicent. Who knows how it happened, but this vortex has grown larger and larger, dragging more people into it.
If Lansseax had left Caelid directly, the dragons might have remained dormant; if Throne had not forced the Inaba Clan to make a move at the Smoldering Church, Mohg would have been happy to make a fortune in silence. But now there are no "ifs."
The fangs are already bared; either they take advantage of the Erdtree's weakness to change the world, or they disperse and wait for Radahn's revenge.
The so-called "greed blinds the mind"; things in this world are just that simple.
"Let us talk, everyone."
The red figure nodded gently, appearing elegant and graceful. There was more than just Mohg in this mountain hollow; a dragon so huge it occupied half the valley was lying on the ground, seemingly unwilling to expend too much energy, and at the other end, the red Mushroom Man stood silently.
They had different origins, different demands, and even belonged to different races; perhaps the only common ground was evil and chaos. So this is the Lord of Blood; he is indeed mysterious and powerful. Greyoll and Red Wave were studying Mohg together. After so many years, this was the first time they had seen this Lord, which shows just how well Mohg had hidden himself.
"We should talk. We have suffered great losses this time." Greyoll said slowly. It had tried to lower its voice as much as possible, but the roar still echoed within the valley. Regardless of whether it had found Lansseax, the dragons were the most desperate.
It had nothing to do with strength, but simply because the Kindred of Rot could flee and the Mohgwyn Dynasty was even more mysterious, while how could they withstand Radahn's revenge?
"An inevitable matter. The Lands Between has no place for you to hide now."
Mohg appeared aggressive, ignoring Greyoll's violent aura.
"You cannot return to Crumbling Farum Azula, and Limgrave is currently being managed by the Tarnished. Do not tell me you want to go to the Mountaintops of the Giants? Sorry, that is impossible."
The Mountaintops of the Giants are right next to Leyndell, and Morgott is much harder to deal with than Radahn. Boom! Greyoll slammed a palm onto the ground, making the entire valley tremble.
"Do not gloat. This swamp cannot stop the strong. Radahn can also seek help from Limgrave and Liurnia; the living will not allow the rot to spread."
Red Wave did not speak, nor could it speak; it just used its mycelium to write on the ground. We have a mission, and we will never give up. These lunatics... Greyoll and Mohg did not know what to say.
Originally, this matter was stirred up by them, and if not for the fact that everyone would be finished if they had an internal conflict, who would be willing to ally with insects?
"Correct. That individual should be the Flowing Swordsman. They take the cleansing of rot as their duty and might call for more companions."
Mohg finished the sentence for it.
The words written were too distorted, and he was too lazy to look at them, so he snapped his fingers.
"Therefore, we are merely defending ourselves so as not to be cleansed by the Erdtree."
Greyoll moved its huge dragon eyes, as if it did not understand why he was so easy to talk to. Reasonably speaking, the Mohgwyn Dynasty should be the most composed, because no one knows where their lair is.
"What do you want?"
"Radahn." Mohg answered without hesitation. Even as a blood avatar, one could clearly feel that desire, elegant yet insane. Greyoll did not ask much more. Everyone was resisting the golden order, and the things they had stirred up were getting bigger and bigger, so there was no need to get to the bottom of it.
"Then let us take what we need. Anyway, the things we want are all related to Sellia. Let us work together to conquer it first, is that okay?"
"I have no objection."
Agreed... Huh, they reached an agreement so quickly?
Throne pushed open the window and looked up; the dragons in the sky were still those same ones, but his observation skills were far superior to ordinary people, and he clearly saw that the details of the scales on each dragon were different. This meant the enemy was reinforcing, and more and more dragons were rushing over from the north.
The advantage of the masters of the sky was undoubtedly revealed; after all, they could cross the forest and mountain ranges just by flapping their wings. However, it was normal for it to be this fast. Why is the efficiency of villains always so high? It is because they do not have moral constraints.
Just like negotiating business, as long as they think they can profit, they can make a decision on the spot.
"Teacher, are they coming?"
Millicent, who had already woken up, walked quietly to the window, her small face tense. These things all started because of her. If she were stronger, she might have dealt with it single-handedly.
Dignity means having thin skin, and being under someone's protection makes one restless instead.
"Mm, they will be here soon."
Throne withdrew his gaze and revealed a relaxed smile.
"Do not worry; these people are wary of each other, and they will have to argue for a long time before they want to attack."
Who will be the vanguard, who will be responsible for which direction—these details all need to be discussed. Who would be willing to jump out and be the patsy?
"But they will come eventually, and they will definitely arrive before the Starscourge receives the news."
"Do not underestimate Radahn. In this game of Caelid, he is also a player." Throne said mysteriously.
Anyone who thinks the Starscourge is a brute will have to pay a bloody price. Millicent did not quite understand, nor was she as curious as Melina. She mustered up the courage and said, "How about I leave Sellia? I am alone and a small target; perhaps I can break out. By then, the Kindred of Rot will have no reason..."
Before she could finish, Throne had already placed his index finger on her lips and shook his head seriously.
"Do not underestimate any enemy, and do not be too self-sacrificing. Listen to my arrangements."
Throne was very forceful, not even giving Millicent a chance to argue, and picked up his blade directly.
"Let's go; I will teach you a few sword techniques."
"Ah? At this time??"
Millicent looked at the dragons patrolling in the sky, completely unable to keep up with his train of thought. Shouldn't one be conserving energy at a time like this?
"With a strong enemy nearby, it is the perfect time to practice swordsmanship."
Throne had always believed in the principle that fear drives people to become stronger.
He led the bewildered Millicent out, and incidentally glanced at Melina, who was still eating roast beef. This stuff was very dry; he did not know how this woman could eat it, so he tapped the table.
"Stop eating; there is work to do."
Melina looked up unhappily, thinking to herself that you are teaching her swordsmanship, so what does that have to do with me?
Fortunately, she was used to being ordered around. "Speak."
"The entire interior of Sellia is already empty. Edred will definitely come to find me later; take this opportunity to help me get something."
Throne tossed out a talisman; it was the Graven-Mass Talisman gifted by Sellen. Melina reached out and took it, feeling a very strange aura.
"A Primeval Sorcerer?"
"Mm, look for something with the same aura. If I am not mistaken, it should be placed in that library, and there is someone specifically guarding it."
Throne extended his index finger and pointed to the largest building. He used to study Night Sorcery inside it, which could be called a forbidden area of Sellia.
Usually, even Melina would not have a chance to sneak in, but now that there is an existential crisis, and none of the three parties seem to want to touch the Primeval Sorcery, there is no need to leave a large number of people on guard.
"Be careful; do not get caught."
Melina immediately raised her eyebrows. Why did this sound like he was talking about a thief?
No, wait, it seems I have been doing this kind of crappy business lately. The naturally upright young girl was just about to object, but Throne placed his hand on her shoulder, leaned down, and looked directly into the girl's eyes.
"This is very important. Do you want me to die?"
Extremely serious, Melina swallowed a mouthful of saliva and had no choice but to nod blankly.
"This is the last time I will do this kind of work for you; the last time, okay?"
"Fine." Throne smiled like a Sichuan opera mask changer. Dammit, I was tricked by this man again! Melina felt that she had been duped. She glared at the other person resentfully, but had no choice but to steal the item against her conscience.
"I think Miss Melina is so pitiful. Teacher, do you always bully her?"
Millicent spoke up for her on the side, finding it increasingly difficult to understand Throne. The scum-like person at this moment and the Shura from before clearly had no similarities at all.
"It is only pitiful when no one bullies you; what do you know?"
Throne spread his hands, but his smile had already been replaced by seriousness.
"I didn't lie to her. This thing really concerns life and death."
A roar—dragon cries echoed faintly from the clouds. The swamp beyond the mountain range churned like a deep sea, shadows flickering across its surface. All of Sellia stood as a single, formidable enemy. From the garrisoned legions to the Night Sorcerers, from the militia to the Tarnished, every soul had gathered.
They knew one truth: as long as they held out, the 'Starscourge' wouldn't abandon them. This wasn't about strategy—only trust in their King. Amidst the clash of steel and thunder of hooves, Throne ascended the crumbling stairs to the central plaza. He understood his place here. Commanding Caria's battles had been duty. In Sellia, he was just a guest.
Soldiers sprinted past. Tarnished scrambled into armor. The chaos gnawed at focus, but Throne caught Millicent's calm expression and exhaled. The girl stood unshaken, heroic in her poise, untouched by the surrounding frenzy. A true prodigy.
No—wait. She was a fragment of the Valkyrie. Shouldn't that be expected? Malenia embodied cruelty and indifference. Millicent carried only her grace. Yet Throne couldn't help wondering: if Millicent strayed, then returned to Malenia… would the Blade of Miquella change too?
"Teacher?"
"Mm. Let's begin."
Throne banished the thought. His sword whispered free of its scabbard—a long, clean ring of steel. Three feet of gleaming death, tip pointed at the ground. Passersby slowed, eyeing him. Who duels at a time like this? Shouldn't they be running? Normally, they'd stop to watch. But dragons circled overhead. Crowding meant death.
"Sword technique is everything's foundation. Without it, 'intent' and 'Dao' are just rootless weeds."
Throne wasn't one for empty mysticism.
"Swordsmanship exists to kill. Every principle serves that end. Strength is the core."
"I understand."
Millicent dipped her chin. Something in his words resonated. The Ashina Style's path demanded battlefield foresight—exploiting gaps, turning weaknesses into openings.
Sword intent shaped the mind behind each swing, but execution relied on technique and raw power.
"I don't need to teach you forms or styles."
Throne flicked his blade. The steel hummed.
"Then what can I learn?"
Millicent frowned.
"Simple."
He raised his sword.
One heartbeat—still as a pond. The next—killing intent thickened the air.
"Force out what you already know."
A slide-step. Ten meters vanished. Throne stood before her. No hesitation. No mercy. Both hands gripped the hilt. The downward slash split the wind.
Ichimonji!
CLANG—
Moonveil met her katana's midpoint. The impact drove Millicent to one knee. Alexander's warning flashed through her mind: Never train with Big Brother. You might not survive. Her bones groaned. Muscles screamed.
The Ashina Style's training was brutally straightforward: awaken survival instinct. Even if it meant hacking your way free with clumsy, desperate swings.
Teaching Alexander had never been Throne's strength. Yet facing Malenia's avatar… something primal stirred in him. Excitement? Anticipation?
Throne shoved Millicent back with a sharp push, then spun his blade in a flashing arc. The sword flicked upward like a serpent's tongue.
"Remember—a sword's weight lies in the wielder's hand."
Moonveil's steel, moments ago a crushing burden, now flowed like liquid silver. Millicent stumbled backward, eyes wide. She knew better than to meet that rising edge.
Just after retreating three steps, she saw Throne dash forward in a blur. His boots scraped stone. Three thrusts came faster than breath—swish, swish, swish—each point aimed to kill.