Throne's finger jerked toward the church entrance. Silver armor and red tassels tangled in the doorway—Fabray and the Gelmir Knights spilled out, then froze at the sight of the monstrosity coiled on the bridge.
"Even they don't deserve this."
What in the hells—? Fabray, a knight who'd laughed in death's face a hundred times over, locked up the moment he crossed the threshold. The thing before them was half-man, half-serpent, its very shape twisting the stomach. Flesh bubbled and pulsed beneath ruptured robes.
Withered arms sprouted from its sides like grotesque afterthoughts, as if some mad god had stitched together nightmares.
"Lord Fabray," a knight whispered, voice cracking. "That—that's His Lordship's face!"
The serpent's hood flared, revealing the stern features of Rykard, the demigod who'd led them through fire and blood. Fabray's jaw twitched.
He'd come for two reasons: uncover the truth, and protect his lord. If Rykard were unharmed, he'd have cut down the Carian knight for this trespass. But the last shred of hope died when he recognized the ring on one of those withered fingers.
He'd know that ring anywhere. It belonged to his fellow commander, a blunt-tongued knight who'd never backed down from a fight. Now his arm dangled from this abomination.
"The snake!" A knight roared.
"It ate him! It ate His Lordship!"
No one believed him.
Rykard was a demigod. Even wounded, he wouldn't be swallowed whole without a fight.
Then the thing moved.
A wet crunch. The serpent's jaws snapped shut on a Fire Monk near the bridge, hurled him skyward, and gulped him down. Bones clattered onto stone as it spat out the remains. Its tongue flicked toward Throne.
"Bland. Tasteless. I want you."
No warning. Just a strike.
The serpent wasn't fully grown yet—smaller than when it had fought the Tarnished—but faster. Much faster.
Throne barely dodged. Black lightning scorched the bridge where he'd stood. He twisted midair, the Sword of Night and Flame blazing as he unleashed a beam of cerulean light. The serpent writhed. Magic splashed against its scales, flesh bubbling up to seal the wounds instantly.
Regeneration. Damn.
Throne hit the ground—and froze. The serpent spun, Rykard's face leering from its hood. Those twisted arms slammed down.
Gelmir's Fury.
Lava erupted in all directions, swallowing Throne whole. He burst through the flames an instant later, cloak smoldering.
The serpent rolled again, serpent-head rising high. A gout of green slime spewed from its maw.
Ranni's hand flicked. An ice wall materialized. The slime hit with a hiss, white smoke curling from melting frost.
What kind of bastardized boss fight was this?
No time to think. Throne triggered Starlight movement—
The serpent's tail whipped out, obliterating the bridgehead statue. Stone shrapnel filled the air as its head snapped up. Starlight movement wasn't invisibility. A demigod's eyes missed nothing.
The giant snake lashed out with its tail, shattering the statue at the bridgehead. Amidst the flying stone fragments, it then raised its head. Starlight movement was not invisible or intangible; it was hard to hide from a demigod.
Throne had seen this coming. His voice cut through the chaos—"Ranni!"
"I know!"
An ice sphere ten meters wide materialized midair. Before the frost could dissipate, purple gravity light wrapped around it. Gravity superposition. He twisted in the air and drove both feet down onto the ice sphere. Frozen Star Meteor.
The impact hit like a falling comet. The bridge buckled, steel screaming as it tore apart. Rykard's tail, too slow to dodge, was crushed beneath the ice, slamming both into the lava below. Molten rock erupted skyward. But Rykard had already lunged to the opposite side—straight into the ranks of Gelmir Knights.
The knights froze. Rykard didn't. His jaws scraped the ground, swallowing two men whole before they could scream.
"Scatter! That's not our lord anymore—attack!"
Fabray hauled himself up, eyes burning.
The serpent writhed through the crowd, batting knights aside, gulping them down. The soldiers hesitated, weapons trembling.
"Refueling mid-fight? This bastard's eating?"
Throne watched the bloody stump of Rykard's tail knit itself back together. This wasn't like any enemy he'd faced before. Others weakened with time. This thing grew stronger. A war of attrition? Impossible. Fighting as a group just made them a buffet.
"What now?" Ranni asked. She didn't even ask where Melina had gone. The girl couldn't scratch Rykard's scales, let alone survive a bite. If that snake swallowed her, it was over.
"Mission accomplished. We leave."
Throne didn't hesitate. He hurled a spear mid-sentence.
Thwack.
The spear buried itself in Rykard's back, exploding in a gout of blood. The serpent didn't even glance back. It kept devouring knights, the wound sealing shut as it fed.
"Leave?"
"I'm not suicidal. Why fight in his territory? Even if I won, he'd just slither away."
Throne dropped to the ground. Immediately, he felt Rykard's hunger lock onto him. Of course. With Ranni's projection clinging to him, he was a two-for-one meal—far tastier than any knight.
"Fall back. This isn't the fight."
He grabbed Fabray before the knight could charge to his death.
"No. Correcting our lord's fall is our duty. If anyone covers the retreat, it's me. I can't kill His Lordship—but you can."
The knight's stare was iron. He raised a hand.
"Payes! Five men—escort this lord out. Tell the others the truth! The rest—with me!"
"Honor is my body!"
"Until death!"
No grand speeches. A dozen knights raised swords and shields, charging the advancing serpent. Delivering the truth needed few. Holding Rykard back required corpses.
Throne said nothing. He dragged the younger knight along.
"Move."
The knight watched his brothers scatter like petals under Rykard's strike. He woke from his daze, following Throne up the shattered stairs. They ran. No one looked back. Behind them—war cries. Screams. The wet sound of chewing.
They burst through the church gate, sprinting for the exit. Throne, bringing up the rear, whipped his head around. The serpent's head had already shattered the doorframe, shoving its way inside. Fabray clung to its skull, hacking chunks of flesh with his halberd—but the beast ignored him. Its eyes locked onto Throne alone.
The knight met his gaze. The helmet hid his face, but the resolve in his eyes burned clear. He raised the Sword of Night and Flame, magic seething along the blade, and unleashed it at the invading serpent.
"Get back!"
The beam tore through the snake's maw, shredding flesh, rupturing an eyeball. The creature recoiled with a shriek.
Throne watched Fabray leap, halberd flashing across Rykard's face—then the impact detonated a fireball of molten rock. Knight and serpent tangled, tumbling down the mountainside. A splash of lava swallowed them both.
A true knight. A real man.
Throne saluted the exit—now a smoldering round hole—and walked away without looking back. His steps dragged. The snake could dive into lava. He couldn't. This wasn't the hour to kill Rykard. The only thing he hadn't accounted for? The Gelmir Knights' courage.
He returned through the breached illusory wall. The five knights were gone—already racing to the barracks to report. This news would shatter the Gelmir Army. Fighting the Erdtree forces at the front while their own lord devoured their brothers like snacks? No saint would stomach that.
Leyndell would hear of it within hours. Morgott wouldn't stay seated.
But Throne didn't rush out. Sword in hand, he kicked open door after door, hunting Tanith. That twisted woman should've died years ago. Seven rooms yielded nothing. No trace.
She'd likely fled the moment the Gelmir Knights stormed in.
He found Rya instead. The girl crouched in a corner, knees to chest, face buried. Melina stood nearby. She spoke softly when Throne entered:
"No chance to kill it?"
"Slim. He's stronger. I couldn't stop him."
Throne's gaze shifted to Rya.
"You. What's your deal?"
The girl lifted her head, voice frayed.
"Mother left. Didn't even look at me. Told me to stop Lady Melina's blade."
She loved Tanith. Tanith loved only that devouring monster.
"I told you before. Your value lasted until the secret got out."
Throne scoffed.
"Now? You're worthless."
What kind of motherly love was that? Dosing the Tarnished with amnesia potions—resetting them like tools to wring out more use?
Melina coughed sharply. A warning: Drop the act around a child.
Throne ignored her.
"Choose. Live or die?"
This question stunned Rya. Before she could open her mouth, she eyed the straight sword's edge, bowed her head, bared her throat.
"I was born from an evil ritual. If—if it's possible—kill me."
"Then do it yourself."
"I... I can't."
Throne laughed. The people around him were hardened, brave. Rya? Just ordinary.
She's just a kind-hearted girl, isn't she?
"You were born from an evil ritual. You're that monster's descendant. But have you ever hurt anyone? Eaten anyone?"
"Of course not!" Rya snapped back, then slumped again.
"But I'm still a Snake-Man. I've got nowhere left."
"You're still a person."
Throne's voice cut through the gloom.
"Good or bad isn't in the blood—it's in what you do."
He reached down and hauled her up.
"Nowhere to go? That's easy. Come with me. As long as you're breathing, you'll find your place."
Rya stared. The candlelight flickered over his battered armor, the gashes from blades and fire still fresh.
This manor was familiar. The knight wasn't. But for some reason—
The fear drained away.
"I'll go with you."
She clutched his torn cloak, fingers digging in like she could anchor herself to those words. That's right. I haven't done anything wrong. Why should I pay for someone else's sins?
"I knew you wouldn't just watch."
Melina leaned in, voice low.
"How?"
The wooden girl tapped her chest, serene.
"Because you're the same with me."
Hmph. At least you noticed.
Throne moved—three steps in, a woman's voice twisted with hate shook the manor walls.
"Volcano Manor isn't some place you stroll in and out of!"
Tanith's voice, warped, directionless in the echoes.
Rya's face twisted. Throne didn't hesitate. Moonlight gathered along his greatsword, coalescing into a blade that roared down, splitting walls, furniture, the very structure in half. Dawn light poured through the gash.
He stepped onto the rubble slope, drove his sword down, and his shout crushed Tanith's scream.
"WHAT ELSE YOU GOT?"
A withered hand clawed over the cliff edge, molten rock dripping between its fingers. Then Rykard's face—dignified, regal—rose into view, followed by the grotesque bulk of his body. Half-man, half-serpent, black scales sheening, flesh bubbling with tumorous growths that swayed like tentacles.
Lava licked his form without dissolving it. The eye Thorne had destroyed had regrown. The halberd's gash across his forehead knitted itself shut, flesh writhing, sealing in seconds. Regeneration beyond reason—beyond nature.
Greed still twisted his face, but now his eyes held a flicker of thought.
What's his game?
That knight had forced his true form out, then walked away without a second glance. Arrogant? No. Calculated. The whole fight had just been a probe—to make him show himself.
Trying to turn Mt. Gelmir against itself? Pointless. Just fewer snacks for the taking.
No. He saw power he couldn't match and ran.
But how was I exposed?
The little snake?
That's impossible; she doesn't even know what the secret is, otherwise, I'd never have let her roam free.
The thoughts churned, but hunger clouded them. Even as he knew—when Throne left, it wasn't the retreat of a beaten dog. It was something else entirely.