His fists tightened, knuckles whitening. Had this man truly pushed physical strength to its absolute limit? Pure martial arts would never bridge that gap, no matter how hard he trained. But Throne felt no despair. How many throats had he slit? How many battlefields had Godfrey waded through, drenched in blood and glory?
The Ashina Style's true secret wasn't about meeting strength with strength. It was theft—stealing every advantage, like Isshin Ashina adopting foreign firearms the moment they proved deadlier than tachi blades.
"Hesitation is defeat" meant killing by any means necessary. A philosophy carved in bone and gunpowder.
If he couldn't match Godfrey's martial prowess, he'd compensate elsewhere. Reaching the pinnacle sounded noble, but surviving mattered more. A hexagon warrior outlived a one-trick master. Godfrey could vanish with regal grace while Throne stood knee-deep in seawater, surrounded by shattered planks.
The ship had drifted further out. Melina and Millicent were specks in the churning waves now—not that they'd drown two hundred meters from shore.
"No time to fetch them."
He'd deal with the journey first. Better if Millicent never reached Elphael anyway.
Storm Art hummed beneath his feet as he rode a wooden plank like a surfboard, wind coiling into thrust. Kilometers of coastline blurred past until he spotted a break in the cliffs. He leapt ashore, boots sinking into wet gravel.
The waterfall roared above him, mist freezing in his eyelashes. Throne stared up at nature's brutal architecture—layer upon layer of sheer rockface, each cliff breeding another. Even a knight would crumble here. No wonder the Haligtree remained untouchable.
Without the sea route, only the Consecrated Snowfield remained, and that was its own kind of suicide. His ship was splinters. No choice but to climb. Twin blades found purchase in the stone as gravity loosened its grip on him.
For a demigod, vertical ascension was child's play. Wind howled, fingernails of gale trying to pry him into the abyss. He climbed past caves slick with ice, past outcrops where lesser men would've frozen solid. The sea dissolved into gray haze below.
"Fucking picturesque spot you picked."
His breath crystallized midair. No shortcuts, just endless up. The cold gnawed through his cloak, but the worst was yet to come. Teeth chattering, he climbed until the slope relented. Halfway. Maybe.
Four days at sea meant Elphael had to be close. Death waited for hesitation. He adjusted his grip on the cliff, eyes locked on the summit wreathed in glacial fog. Just a little further. Teacher, hold on.
Altus Plateau Catacombs
Wall torches guttered, painting the tombs in liquid shadow.
Intricate murals whispered of noble bloodlines sleeping beneath his feet. All returned to the Erdtree, but not equally—death preserved hierarchy. These vaults cradled aristocracy even as the Elden Ring shattered and the golden order decayed. The privileged rot in style.
Exquisite stone coffins were lined up, with coats of arms engraved on their surfaces to display the legends of their past lives. However, at the most honorable top position, the stone coffin had clearly been violently shoved aside, and the vacated spot was given to a large, old wooden coffin. Even stranger, its lid was missing.
A golden phantom sat on the adjacent stone coffin, clearly treating someone else's resting place as his stool, but Godfrey obviously didn't care about such things. The Erdtree's return was gone, and the kingdom of death had long since fragmented. In the current Lands Between, death had become a boring act.
"It's still better to be alive. So much time has passed, and many interesting powerhouses have emerged."
The phantom clenched his fist. He had been away from The Lands Between for too long; he had never met people like the three siblings of the Ra family, Malenia, Miquella, and so on. But just as his fighting spirit was boiling, it was suppressed by something, leaving him to snort in annoyance.
"Serosh, can't you let me enjoy myself even at a time like this?"
Another golden phantom appeared behind the first. It was a giant lion, looking ferocious, yet its eyes were filled with reason.
"Godfrey, you should know why we returned early. Why did you appear prematurely? And why didn't you give it your all?"
The lion spoke in human tongue, its tone calm.
"Out of curiosity. I wanted to see what kind of person could make Morgott suffer setbacks repeatedly."
"That doesn't sound very rational, nor like what a king should do."
"I am no longer a king. Is there an issue with being a little willful for once?"
"There is an issue. It is precisely because The Lands Between is in a mess that you were able to return. This was agreed upon long ago, and you should use the fastest speed to reclaim the throne and clean up the mess."
Like two old friends bickering, Serosh the beast was rational and elegant, while Godfrey the king was somewhat disgruntled. Setting aside Marika's schemes, the Two Fingers, who had always been faintly on guard, also chose to acknowledge him.
After all, the current Lands Between was truly not something they could handle. The Tarnished did not achieve the expected effect, and various heroes had emerged. Originally, it would have been fine to just let things be, but the revival of Caria changed everything. A lord who defied the Golden Order and yet could contend with Leyndell had appeared.
Even General Radahn had connections with them, and Leyndell was in danger of being conquered. At such a time, being leisurely was seeking death. The vacant throne had never been so important. Even from Marika's standpoint, she couldn't accept the current situation. Throne had made off with Melina but simply wouldn't enter, and in Ranni's ideal, there would be no place for her.
"I know what you're all thinking."
Godfrey became a bit more serious and explained, "Do you really think the enemy is a fool? They won't have thoughts seeing the unusual movements of Siluria and the Crucible Knights? It's impossible that I've been gone so long that I don't even have this much presence left."
"You're right, gathering the Crucible Knights will indeed draw vigilance."
"As for going all out, that's even more of a joke. Not to mention that rickety ship couldn't withstand the power—with just this clone of mine, if we really fought to the death, it's not certain who would win or lose."
Serosh shook his head in disagreement. The phantom clone indeed didn't have overwhelming power, but the timing of the battle was also wrong. They should have waited until Ordovis arrived to launch a fatal blow. However, he didn't say those words. Having spent a long time with Godfrey, he knew when to play dumb. After all, no matter how much he suppressed him, the latter still possessed a warrior's heart.
"Forget it this time, but I must tell you, it's far from the time to be willful."
"I get it. But if the Two Fingers won't budge, what am I supposed to do?"
"This isn't about the Two Fingers. You're no ordinary Tarnished."
Serosh's tone was measured. If it were that simple, they'd have let Godfrey lead the Tarnished army back. Under their iron hooves, any demigod's life could be crushed.
"If I'd known this, why drag it out and waste my time?"
"Ask Marika, your beloved wife."
Godfrey fell silent. The situation was tangled. On the surface, it looked like betrayal—hounds cooked once the rabbits were caught. After a long pause, he sighed.
"Let's not dwell on the past. Since I'm exposed, let's focus on what's next."
They were old friends, their partnership seamless. Serosh specialized in cleaning up Godfrey's messes. Now, he stroked his furry head, deep in thought. Unlike Throne, as newcomers to the fray, they had options. Godfrey's return had breathed life into a stagnant game of chess.
"Recall the Tarnished, hunt for great runes, return to Leyndell. These three things must be done."
Serosh's answer was blunt: force was the key to suppressing everything. With the Tarnished and the remnants of the Golden Army united, no one in The Lands Between could stand against them.
"Aren't we taking out Caria first?"
"They're prepared. It won't be easy. The Crucible Knights alone aren't enough."
"True. I haven't figured out half of it yet." Godfrey stroked his beard and suddenly laughed.
"Let's tackle all three at once. Damn it, another unification war? I can feel my blood boiling."
"Calm down. Caria isn't to be underestimated."
Serosh delivered his daily reminder.
"I never underestimate my enemies. That knight won't sit idle. And you're forgetting something even more important."
Godfrey glanced toward the coffin, a savage grin spreading across his face.
"Only when I'm fully awakened, with overwhelming power, can I crush everything. Morgott's one thing, but do you think the Two Fingers and those Tarnished will just bow to me?"
He slammed his fist against the chest of the phantom, its demigod strength leaving him unsatisfied.
"Too weak. This isn't the power of a king!"
Serosh stayed silent as Godfrey's old habits resurfaced. Deep down, he sensed things weren't as simple as the legends claimed—that two great runes were enough to claim the throne. Marika's grand scheme couldn't be reduced to a mere changing of kings. He had a nagging feeling Godfrey was hiding something crucial. Whatever it was, they'd only find out at the Erdtree.
Godfrey composed himself and strode toward the central coffin.
"I'm done waiting. It's time to take the stage."
"Aren't Ordovis and the others retrieving the other half of the fragment? Why the rush?"
"Heh, can't I stretch my limbs after sleeping so long?"
Godfrey cracked his neck and turned his gaze east. Her subordinates were already on the move. It was the perfect moment to reclaim the throne.
"Godfrey can do many things, but only a few truly matter."
The cold wind howled. Inside the cave, Throne lit a campfire. He'd been climbing for hours and wasn't far from the summit. Time for a break. Ranni's puppet knelt nearby, silent and still. Melina and Millicent were nowhere to be seen. She seemed in good spirits, a faint smile touching her lips.
"I didn't expect him to return. Much less that he'd target you first."
"Stop staring at me like I'm some unlucky wretch. It's a form of recognition. An honor."
Throne shrugged. Aside from grumbling about Godfrey making him climb a mountain, he didn't hold much resentment. For a legend like Godfrey to appear before him on his first move? That was respect.
"It was just a greeting. Someone so direct is easier to handle. If Godfrey had stayed hidden and struck at the critical moment, that'd be impossible to guard against."
Ranni tilted her head, considering.
"Hmm. He reminds me of Radahn."
"To be precise, it's Radahn who's like Godfrey. Godfrey's his idol, after all. If Radahn heard this, he'd probably spin in circles with joy." Throne smiled faintly. As a friend, he was happy for Radahn's fanboy moment.
"Do you think Radahn would abandon his promise and lead the Redmane Army to answer the call?"
Ranni's question cut like a knife. If that happened, Throne's trip to Caelid would've been aiding the enemy. Throne listened to the wind howling outside the cave. He thought for a moment, then shook his head firmly.
"He won't."
"Keeping a promise is the essence of a hero. Even Godfrey wouldn't interfere. He'd be pleased. Like his battle against the Storm King—that epic's engraved in his bones."
"That doesn't sound rational."
"Hahaha! Whether it's me, Radahn, or Godfrey, no matter the power or constraints, we're all fundamentally willful."
Being of the same kind, Throne felt no strangeness. Ranni just curled her lip. No wonder she couldn't control him and kept conceding. She hugged her knees tightly, pushing those messy thoughts aside, and pulled the conversation back.
"What do you think Godfrey can do?"
"Unite the Tarnished and the remnants of the Erdtree, obviously. Only he has the qualifications for that."
Throne scoffed. Ranni was testing him on purpose, getting lazier by the day.
"A pincer attack from north and south? Sounds ominous. But he's too late. It won't be easy to finish the task. At the very least, you've left plenty of pitfalls for him."
"It's just stalling. Under absolute power, all resistance is futile. Survivors become cannon fodder."
Throne wasn't optimistic. The Death Eater, for example, could force the Two Fingers to expend energy, but that's because they couldn't enter the fray themselves. Godfrey was different.
He wouldn't bother with choices. He'd lead his army, carry his great axe, and march forward.
"If you have the guts, face me."
Feints and traps wouldn't work on someone like him. He'd hack down every enemy in sight and wait for those he couldn't see.
"But there's no need to be pessimistic. After years of effort, division among the Tarnished has been sown. The Golden Army's been weakened repeatedly. Even Leyndell, the best-preserved, will face a bloodbath."
"Is Morgott going to move against those nobles?"
Ranni's sharp mind instantly connected it to The Shaded Castle.
"Don't forget whose dogs the current Golden nobles were raised to be. Killing each other just weakens them, while we grow stronger."
Throne wasn't afraid. Besides his own growing strength, Caria had been accumulating power. He glanced at Ranni, who took a light breath, her expression composed.
"That's right. The technology of the Nox has started to yield results; several types of fluid puppets are not inferior to knights. After obtaining Mt. Gelmir, resources are no longer an issue, and we still have potential allies like the dragon clan!"
"Hmm, I'll be responsible for causing trouble outside, and you be responsible for peaceful development. With one of us inside and one outside, why should we be afraid of this decaying Golden Order?"
Throne was full of heroic spirit and waved his hand dismissively.
"Let's just do our own thing. How much military strength Godfrey can scrape together is up to his own ability, but we must supplement our high-end combat power. Relying only on the two of us, plus Lansseax, is far from enough."
Legion battles were not a big problem, but combat power above the demigod level was severely lacking.
"I am currently finding a way regarding Mother; results should be available soon."
Mom is waking up? Throne's face lit up with joy, but he changed the address when the words reached his lips.
"If we can wake the Queen of the Full Moon, that would be for the best. At the very least, she possesses the power of a top-tier demigod. Hmm, I estimate the teacher can touch the threshold, and a fully realized Melina can also count. If we take the opportunity to kill a few more, we can narrow the gap."
War is like playing chess. Both sides line up for a match; isn't it just a matter of how many pieces each side has? From this perspective, there will be no shortage of troops, but—
"We lack decisive power, while the enemy has it, and more than one."
Ranni pointed out the key point: human-shaped nuclear weapons, divine-level power.
"Godfrey, Maliketh, the missing Radagon, Astel—the fifteen Crucible Knights combined are also enough to slay gods."
"Not just them, there are also the Godskin Noble, the Black Knives, and the Draconic Tree Sentinel. They can also pose a threat to gods," Throne added. High-level combat power was where the gap between the two sides was the greatest. Below the demigod level, one could use numbers to crush the enemy, or use technology to compensate.
But above that level, every single one was a famous and renowned big shot.
"Leave this problem to me. Besides, it's not as bad as you imagine; Radagon cannot participate in the war, and Maliketh will not unite with Godfrey."
Throne rose while holding his sword, still full of confidence. The Erdtree was not an impenetrable monolith; it refused to let anyone approach.
If Godfrey wanted to ascend the throne, he would have to kill Maliketh, and the latter did not look like someone who would sacrifice himself. As for Astel, it was just a mindless monster; having power alone did not make it difficult to defeat. So, calculating it all, the only true 'god'-level combatant was Godfrey alone.
However, by a twist of fate, half of the fragments had fallen into his own hands, disrupting his plans. Ranni didn't ask anything; she just felt her heavy heart lighten significantly. As always, this man would constantly bring her surprises.
"Throne, during this time I have often thought, if not for you, I might not have made it to where I am now. Thinking back to the manor from those years, it always feels somewhat surreal."
The voice was very low, but Throne heard it. He turned his head in some astonishment. Even when they were alone, he rarely heard such unauthoritative words from Ranni.