"Flowing Sword!"
The blade wasn't as swift as Throne's, nor as brutal as Malenia's, but the dozen flashes of steel that erupted in an instant were dazzling. Her movements were fluid, her body light as water. She danced through the chaos of thrusts and dodges, sparks and blood mingling in the air. Like a loach slipping through fingers, she was impossible to pin down.
The attackers flailed, unable to land a hit. Instead, they were cut by her blade. Just as they prepared to unleash a wave of Black Flame, Throne arrived.
"Don't move."
His voice was low but commanding. Millicent froze mid-step. Then she saw it—a spectacle of blinding brilliance. The swordsman descended from above, one blade held forward, the other gripped in reverse.
The air became a storm of steel. Secret Sword: Double Flow Vortex Cloud Crossing! Crimson and azure light merged into a hurricane of blades. The whistle of cutting air filled the space—swish, swish, swish. Too fast to block, the two Godskin Nobles could only slam flames into their chests in desperation.
Dozens of slashes carved deep gouges into the earth. The ground was torn apart, except for the small circle where Millicent stood, untouched. As the barrage ended, Throne frowned. The Godskin Nobles weren't minced, though their robes hung in tatters and black flames seeped from their wounds. Dark protection combined with the robes' damage resistance? His eyes narrowed. No time to marvel.
He landed directly in front of Millicent, both katanas sweeping to the left, his body coiled tight.
"Duck!"
Millicent dropped to the ground as a violent gust of air swept over her head, whipping her red ponytail wildly. Blood Burn!
Throne twisted his waist, and the blood in his veins ignited. Fueled by the Dragon Heart, it surged into his arms, swelling them with pain. His grip tightened, threatening to crush the hilts to dust. The moment Millicent ducked, Moonveil and Rivers of Blood slashed out—one high, one low, each carrying brutal force.
Swish—
Crimson and azure arcs formed twin half-moons. The Godskin messengers had no chance to dodge. Black Flame protection, Godskin robes—it didn't matter. Both were cleaved into three pieces. Blood and black fire sprayed into the air. Without hesitation, Throne kicked Millicent's rear.
"Move."
The force was precise, harmless, but enough to send her sprawling.
Mid-air, Throne caught up, tucking her under his arm. He leapt onto a treetop, launching them toward the coast like an arrow. The entire sequence—kill, retreat—was too fast to follow. In a few bounds, they vanished. The Godskin Noble didn't pursue.
It ignored its wounds, raising its right arm. A ball of Black Flame swirled in its palm. Strength, coordination, and a skill few could fathom: the power derived from death. With the right sacrifice, a companion could be resurrected—but time was critical.
It wouldn't be too late to pursue after finishing this matter. The Black Flame flickered, time creeping forward. The Godskin Noble stood stiff, motionless as a statue. After what felt like an eternity, it turned sharply, its gaze locking onto another companion who had just emerged from the forest. Horror filled its eyes. The soul—it could not return!
Bizarre, it was just bizarre. The foul-smelling sea breeze drilled into his nostrils. Throne headed east along the rugged, rocky coastline, and even after running for several kilometers, he kept muttering to himself. Past enemies always revealed their true colors first; at least he could anticipate who would jump out to cause trouble.
But these Godskin were completely unexpected, as if they had suddenly popped out of a rock. The two sides had no old grudges or recent enmity, and Throne had even specifically taken a detour, not stepping into their territory. Yet, these monsters had taken the initiative to jump out and ambush him. And how did they know he was coming? He couldn't figure it out, absolutely couldn't.
It wasn't as if the Godskin Noble had just been out for a stroll and happened to be annoyed at running into him. Besides, the Tarnished had never encountered a combination of three Godskin before.
"This is definitely a meticulously planned scheme. So the question is, who is manipulating this from behind? And what is the benefit of killing me?"
The sound of crashing waves was somewhat irritating.
Judging from the known clues, the Godskin Noble was suspected of participating in the killing of War Counselor Iji; perhaps it was a hostile force of Caria. But I've been using a mask this whole way. How did they know I'm from Caria? It couldn't be that Radahn betrayed me.
Even if the presence of a Godskin Noble in the Divine Tower of Caelid was suspicious, Throne didn't believe the Starscourge General would cooperate with them. Radahn wasn't that kind of person, and there was no need for him to get involved with Destined Death. Thinking it over, Throne became a bit depressed.
The trip to Caelid was expected to be very simple, but accidents had come one after another. First the Kindred of Rot and the Mohgwyn Dynasty—those two were already settled. Just when he had finally focused on having a talk with Greyoll, the Godskin Noble popped out. The next step wouldn't be Maliketh running over to find him, would it?
"I hope I'm not a jinx. This feeling is all wrong."
Throne spat twice, feeling that Caelid was like this central sea, with undercurrents surging. But he had already stepped in; it seemed too late to turn back.
"Teacher, they don't seem to have followed us."
Millicent was panting; clearly, the fast-paced battle just now had been very stressful for her.
"That's for the best. I'm more worried about them retreating to find reinforcements."
Throne looked around. It was completely dark now, and with the storm clouds, visibility was extremely low.
"Let's go over there first. We need to plan before continuing."
The situation wasn't great. Throne was caught in the middle; if he were pincered from front and back, that would be a huge problem.
Fortunately, the dragons and the Godskin had no connection, otherwise, he would be thinking about how to run away. On the coast was a ruin that looked like the wreckage of half a ship. Broken wood and supplies were scattered all over the ground; one wondered how big a wave it took to wash it up onto the hundred-meter cliff. The signs of wood rot weren't too severe.
Throne tapped it, making a thumping sound, then released a ball of starlight to look inside.
"I wonder which unlucky Tarnished fed the fish."
Throne grumbled. The Tarnished naturally returned by boat after crossing the Fog Sea; they weren't drift bottles, nor could they walk on the waves. And taking a boat was bound to lead to trouble eventually, so this wasn't anything strange.
He crawled in and saw supplies scattered everywhere. Feeling like he had stepped on something, he bent down to take a look. It was an oil painting of a white-haired, sturdy man holding a giant axe, his strong chest exposed, fighting a giant. Godfrey? He recognized the identity at a glance.
This was also common; there were quite a few die-hard fans of Godfrey in the Tarnished armies, though this painting was particularly exquisite.
"Looks like the unlucky one was a big shot. Whoa, quite a lot of gold and silver treasure."
Among the sundries were gold and silver utensils and gemstone scepters; the owner definitely wasn't from a lower class.
But even if it were a high-ranking member of the Golden Order Army back in the day, meeting with danger on the vast ocean would only result in one thing: death. Throne shrugged and didn't bother with the gold and silver treasure. The spirit-calling ring had limited space and wasn't the place to store these worldly goods.
He turned around inside once more; indeed, he didn't see a single living person.
"Teacher, there's no one here."
Millicent poked her head down from the dilapidated deck.
"Yeah, this way we don't have to worry about being gifted a surprise."
Throne was genuinely a bit nervous; his luck had been too bad lately. Who knew what kind of ghost thing might crawl out?
He glanced at a wooden board at his feet. It was rectangular, its surface covered in dust. After wiping it slightly, he saw it was carved with exquisite patterns. About an inch deep, the curves were like they had been carved with a knife and axe, and it looked somewhat familiar; the exposed part looked like a tree crown. It looks like a coffin lid, just don't know where the rest of it flew off to.
"Teacher?"
Millicent didn't know why Throne was staring blankly at a wooden board.
"Oh, wait for me to get up there." Throne snapped back to reality. Now was not the time to be a tomb raider; there were more important things at hand. He gave the board a casual glance and didn't bother to wipe away the dust to see the full picture, stepping up the rotting stairs to the deck.
It was a good distance above the ground, and the view was excellent. Throne looked to the west, confirmed the Godskin hadn't followed, and then turned to the east. Moonlight shone down through the gaps in the clouds, and he could vaguely see a few black dots patrolling in the air.
"Fortunately, I didn't alert them."
Throne had specifically avoided using high-power moves earlier, fearing he would attract the dragons. Now it seemed he had guessed right.
"Should we continue?"
Millicent held onto a wooden post, which looked like the position where one used to steer the ship. Throne didn't speak; clearly, he was indecisive, so he pinched his chin. The Godskin want to kill me, and they are strong.
Their numbers are uncertain, and although the possibility of them colluding with the dragons is extremely low, it's still a hidden danger. Three Godskin would be more than enough to kill Godrick. Based on the principle that the longer one lives, the more monstrous one becomes, there aren't many existences in The Lands Between that dare to oppose these ancient god-hunters.
There are others similar to the Crucible Knights; they are all elite corps.
It's just that the Godskin lost Destined Death and their own queen, gradually disappearing into the dust of history. 'Their power should be much weaker than in their prime, but their combat experience and coordination are higher than the Baleful Shadow, and that robe made of flayed skin is also very troublesome.' Throne pondered for a moment and decided that next time he wouldn't be able to use sharp weapons like katanas; he would have to use heavy weapons to smash them hard.
So, should he continue? The wounds from the Battle of Sellia still remained, and Throne was not in his best condition. If he were surrounded by four or five Godskin, it would actually be quite dangerous. The risk was quite large, but he really wasn't willing to go back like this. At least he wasn't alone.
Throne thought for a while and decided to ask how Melina and Lansseax were doing first, but just as he took out the doll, he heard Ranni's voice.
"Why didn't you report after the Battle of Sellia?"
The Lunar Princess was very displeased; this was clearly disregarding her. Moreover, Blaidd had reported some things that made her even more dissatisfied.
That tone—that brat Blaidd dared to badmouth me!! Throne secretly noted this debt and showed a relaxed smile: "After the battle, I had a talk with Radahn to temporarily stabilize him, so I didn't have time to report."
"How did it go?"
Ranni immediately perked up.
"The recruitment failed, but I confirmed one thing: Radahn is Radahn, and the Starscourge General is the Starscourge General."
It sounded like a riddle at first, but with Ranni's intelligence, it required no explanation. She was silent for a moment.
"I understand. You did very well; separating his two identities is the best possible result."
Ranni hadn't expected Throne to make Radahn defect and surrender with just a few words; otherwise, the world wouldn't need swords, and mere bluster would suffice.
"But he won't hold back. That stubborn fool will definitely use his full strength to test your caliber."
"He is both a friend and an enemy. If I can defeat the Starscourge General in his prime, it won't have been in vain to come to The Lands Between. We'll talk then."
"You sound very naive."
"There are many powerful people in The Lands Between, but very few who can earn my admiration."
One question, one answer, and both sides fell silent for a moment. For Caria and Ranni, this couldn't be called perfect, but it definitely wasn't bad. At the very least, the Redmanes could be stabilized, which avoided being attacked from the front and back. After all, if the army charged down from Stormhill, Caria wouldn't be able to hold out, no matter how strong it was.
"I leave this matter to your judgment, but if you really want to have some fair duel, don't blame me for intervening."
"Are you afraid I'll die at Radahn's hands?"
"Yes!"
Ranni first responded directly, then her tone became a bit flustered: "If you die at his hands, I will be in a lot of trouble, but I will never be sorrowful, because an idiot is not worth missing!!"
Wow, that sounds very heartless, but what's with that tone? Throne was just about to continue the topic—he hadn't had a chance to tease the Princess in a long time—when he heard the other party's voice turn cold.
"Tell me, you have time to flirt with an Ancient Dragon, but not time to tell me about such an important matter?"
Ah, this—Wolf brother, you must have betrayed me.
Don't let me catch you, or I'll rub your dog head bald. Throne gritted his teeth. This question was not easy to answer because no matter what he said, that stinky dragon's eccentric personality would turn everything into a lie. No, wait, if she met Ranni, the tsundere attitude would instead trigger the veteran's intense interest. Ranni definitely couldn't outfight Lansseax.
Look at how miserable Melina is; be it stoic, tsundere, or airheaded, the veteran can restrain everything.
"Ahem, actually, I got involved in another piece of trouble."
"Isn't it just that you want to kill Greyoll? With your personality, you must be exploring cautiously; you don't look like someone who would charge in headlong. Hmm, and you can slack off when there's nothing to do, with a few women by your side—that life must be quite pleasant."
Throne felt he had been seen through. He didn't quibble, nor did he loudly proclaim his loyalty. Just as Ranni understood him, Throne also saw through the Princess.
"I am indeed looking for Greyoll, but an accident happened on the way."
"What the hell did that Ancient Dragon do to you?"
Throne blinked. What did any of this have to do with Lansseax? And why was Ranni radiating murderous intent like a blade about to fall?
Throne hesitated, then spat it out.
"Got ambushed by a Godskin Noble. Just fought my way free."
"Godskin Noble?"
Ranni stood frozen for several seconds before reacting. Silence stretched between them.
"Throne."
Her voice came out tight.
"Answer me one thing."
"Shoot."
The Lunar Princess massaged her temples in the Grand Library's dim light, exhaustion bleeding into her features.
"Did you roll in cursed filth? How are you this catastrophically unlucky?"