Damn it, I'm so unlucky. I must not have checked the almanac before leaving Raya Lucaria Academy; how could such a simple trip have so many unexpected turns? Throne rode on his horse, muttering curses, while Millicent kept asking, "Teacher, why don't we go and rendezvous with Lansseax?"
The west had gone silent; theoretically, the battle was over, though he had no idea what that Ancient Dragon was up to.
"Once Greyoll dies, those dragons will sense it and immediately fall into disarray. She needs time to consolidate them, and she's also serving as bait."
Throne wasn't worried about Lansseax's safety; if she couldn't handle the dragons, she might as well find a cliff and jump off.
However, defeating and capturing them would take time, and Throne didn't want his own affairs to interfere with the original plan.
"Are you worried that the enemy will be lured there? But no one can hide the commotion of battle."
"It wouldn't matter if it did, because this enemy is only interested in me; it won't be bored enough to provoke an Ancient Dragon."
If Lansseax were in her prime, he would have run over to rely on her, but the Ancient Dragon was already injured and had been fighting dozens of dragons in the air; she must have expended quite a lot of energy. But why? Throne still couldn't figure it out, but he never thought Blaidd could be wrong.
There must be some kind of connection between shadow beasts; no matter how clever a disguise was, it couldn't fool him. It must be the Beast Clergyman Gurranq. As the avatar of the Black Blade Maliketh, he would never easily step out of the temple; he must have received some kind of news. Radahn couldn't have betrayed him. Who else could have linked the Death Eater's arrival in Caelid?
Throne couldn't figure it out—he really couldn't. Even Mohg could only detect the "devouring," and verifying that intelligence would take a considerable amount of time. Besides, how could it be so easy to make the connection to the Beast Clergyman? Unless someone was pulling the strings. Riding on his horse, the man rubbed his scorched, curled hair.
He wasn't shocked by the Beast Clergyman's appearance. It was only natural; enemies in reality weren't NPCs waiting foolishly in place for him to farm. Even in a turn-based game, there were always times when others made their moves. Someone was targeting him from the shadows. The question lingered in his mind, but Throne couldn't worry about that now.
Behind the Beast Clergyman was Maliketh; encountering him would mean certain death. He especially didn't want to drag Caria into this. It wasn't the right time yet; Caria had not fully grown, and tearing off the mask now would only benefit others. Those bastards like Sir Gideon Ofnir would surely be laughing their heads off.
"Throne, it chased me for a while, but it suddenly turned around. I'm going to intercept it."
Blaidd's voice rang out, sounding somewhat anxious. He had been running east, and the target had been tracking him for half an hour before suddenly changing direction; it had clearly sensed something. The aura of death? Ordinary priests couldn't perceive it, but it knew?
"Do not pursue it! Fall back. If you don't make a move, there's still room for maneuver."
Throne replied with equal urgency. Blaidd's identity was highly sensitive; this wasn't something he could hide with a simple disguise. Besides, what would killing Gurranq accomplish? Just like a blood avatar, it would only alert the main body behind it.
"What time do you think it is? If you get caught, are you going to slit your own throat again!?"
It was Ranni who spoke; she had been listening the whole time and finally couldn't hold back. Did this man even understand that the value of his life wasn't just personal?
"I'll just throw away the Dark Moon Greatsword first."
"You dare!"
The princess's voice turned shrill instantly; it had to be said, she was quite imposing in such moments.
"Just kidding, I don't intend to fight him to the death."
Throne's dry chuckle faded as quickly as it came. He'd pushed Ranni's buttons, sure, but now wasn't the time for games. Another reincarnation—that would've been perfect. He could've turned around, died a hero's death, then popped back up in front of Maliketh like a bad joke. Heh. Alive again. The look on the Black Blade's face would've been priceless.
"I'll keep my head down and run."
Torrent's stamina was unmatched. Maliketh might not catch him. Might not. Ranni stayed silent, but Throne knew she understood. This wasn't just about him—it was about Caria's future. Every day bought was a day closer to their goal. Burning bridges with the Erdtree now would be suicide.
"I'll send Blaidd after you."
Her voice cut through the tension. Throne smirked.
"In your state, you can't take on his avatar. And Millicent? She's useless."
"That doesn't sound rational."
"Hmph. Being willful is my prerogative."
Throne's smile lingered. He wanted to ask her outright: What matters more, my life or your ideals? But he knew better. Ranni wasn't the type to give a straight answer. Some things lost their magic when spelled out too clearly.
He glanced back. Dawn spread from the Erdtree in the north, its light catching a figure moving on all fours. It surged forward like a storm, climbing the hill with ease. Their eyes met for a split second across the distance. Throne's pupils narrowed.
It was here.
This wasn't just tracking. Throne had faced a Death Hunter a decade ago who'd used intuition to pin him down. The Beast Clergyman? He'd be worse.
"Found… you."
The voice carried on the wind. The figure blurred in the distance, but Gurranq's intent was clear. He'd hunt Throne to the ends of the earth. Fight or flee—either way, the pursuit would be relentless.
The Tarnished had tipped him off. Gurranq had dismissed it at first, but Greyoll's corpse changed everything. Higher beings in The Lands Between didn't die easily. Their bodies lingered, untouched by decay. But Greyoll? She was gone. Completely. Her vitality stripped away like it had never existed.
Destined Death? A ritual? Some secret technique? Throne didn't know. But Gurranq did. And Throne's flight? It looked guilty as hell. Find him. Catch him. Uncover the truth—like why that shadow beast had appeared here.
Crouching low, Gurranq prepared to sprint. No horse could outrun him forever. He'd catch Throne within a day.
But as he lunged forward—Boom!
Something crashed from above, the shockwave slamming him to a halt. Gurranq lowered his arm, shielding his face, his beastly features twisting in rage.
"Lansseax. What's your game, blocking me?"
"Yo, such a temper. Why aren't you staying put in the Bestial Sanctum, collecting deathroot, instead of running all the way here?"
The Ancient Dragon stepped out of the crater, her tone light despite her ragged appearance. Her eyes, though, were sharp. They shared a history—one neither cared to revisit.
"Why aren't you returning to Crumbling Farum Azula instead of lingering here?" the Clergyman snapped.
"Go back to turn to stone? Or be locked up like a prisoner by your kind?"
The Ancient Dragon raised her hand, gesturing toward Greyoll's fallen form.
"She was causing chaos. I'm just tidying up."
"Did you kill Greyoll? Or did you invite him?"
"Why not? The Erdtree calls for outside help. Why can't I? Besides, I've already beaten those dragons into submission. From now on, the northern reaches of Caelid belong to me."
Lansseax's tone was unapologetic, almost smug.
The logic held. Gurranq knew the history between her and Greyoll. His expression darkened.
"Who… is he?"
"I don't know. He's capable. That's enough for me. Why should I care about someone else's secrets?"
Gurranq fell silent. Just as Throne struggled with this eccentric Ancient Dragon, the Beast Clergyman felt the same frustration. Scolding her would be pointless.
"If you don't know, then step aside."
He moved forward, his imposing figure cutting through the air. The scent he followed was fading fast, disappearing into the distance. Lansseax shifted half a step, blocking his path. She picked at her nails, casual.
"A dragon must have some principles. I invited him. If you have an issue, take it up with me."
"That's a burden you can't carry."
"Then why not explain it to me first?"
Gurranq had no patience for her games. He crouched, a low, beast-like whimper escaping his throat. His body began to swell, black-red flames erupting from within.
Facing an Ancient Dragon was no small task, but Gurranq felt no pressure. He'd killed dragons before.
"You're as heartless as ever."
Lansseax spread her wings, her pleasant demeanor evaporating. Her mind raced. I can't beat him. Once this starts, I'll run. Drag this out. Give Throne time to escape.
Dust kicked up.
Gurranq's robe billowed as he lunged forward. Lansseax didn't move. A dark shadow descended between them, faster than either. A muffled thud echoed as another figure landed.
"Hahaha! Why didn't you inform me when you two started brawling?"
The booming laughter belonged to a burly man clad in full armor, a red plume dancing on his helmet. Two greatswords hung at his waist.
Radahn had arrived. He didn't attack the Ancient Dragon. Instead, he faced Gurranq, his stance unmistakable.
Interesting. You've got quite the influence. Lansseax smiled, her wings drooping as she returned to picking her nails.
"Radahn, this isn't your fight. She's your enemy too."
Gurranq's face darkened. Impatience burned in him. The trail was vanishing, and now this interference.
"My enemy was Greyoll. Whether Lansseax becomes an enemy depends on her future actions."
Radahn crossed his arms, planting his feet like an iron tower. His laughter boomed.
"Hahahaha! Besides, you're mistaken. I'm the Lord of Caelid. I oversee matters here. Both of you will heed me."
His tone brooked no argument.
"I'm tracking an enemy of the Erdtree."
"Then track him. But the two of you won't fight."
If I could pursue him, why would I waste time here? Gurranq hadn't felt this stifled in years.
He walked to the side, and the Ancient Dragon, who was still picking at her nails, shifted one step, simply refusing to let him pass. The Clergyman couldn't help but look at Radahn, who was still standing with his arms crossed, showing no intention of intervening.
"You are shielding an enemy of the Erdtree!"
This sentence was laced with killing intent; his bestial nature was truly burning with rage.
"So, where is this enemy?"
"I am about to pursue him, and then I will get to the bottom of this."
"So you are merely guessing. The enemies of the Erdtree are all but dead; there are only strangers and my friends here," Radahn said firmly... Gurranq took a deep breath. Wasn't this just toying with him?
If he didn't pursue, how could he find the answer? But with the two of them blocking him, how was he supposed to chase? It was like a vicious cycle. By now, he could no longer sense the target's presence; clearly, the other party was no fool and was seizing the time to escape. The black-red flames dissipated.
The Beast Clergyman calmed down completely, glancing first at the Ancient Dragon before finally fixing his gaze on Radahn.
"Do you know what you are doing?"
"I do. But I will give you an explanation, and in doing so, an explanation to myself."
Radahn was very serious; his actions had already exceeded the scope of the Starscourge General.
Gurranq looked at him coldly, unable to understand why Radahn would do this—it was as if he had some leverage held over him. Yet, after observing for a long time, he couldn't find a single trace of coercion. He didn't consider Caria, because after the Starscourge War, Radahn had severed ties with them. As long as the starry sky remained sealed, the two could never reconcile.
"Radahn, I told you long ago that you value loyalty and honor too much; sooner or later, it will be the death of you."