Transporting back to Bastion was very simple for those of Valor. Their tethers had not changed when they came here, after all. They had just hitched a ride with the Government Saint in order to pass over the Death Zone that lay between the two Great Citadels.
However, this would not work for the return trip. That was because they would be bringing back a particular abomination with them, one who would easily escape during transportation between realms.
Therefore, a long journey was ahead of all of them.
They could fortunately navigate around the hellscape that was the land known as Godgrave, but it would still take them into a few rather unfortunate places. Those places though, were nothing the Saints of Valor couldn't handle.
What was more pressing was getting things done in a timely manner. Both Madoc and Tyris were due back in Antarctica in a few days, and traversing such vast distances during that time with such a dangerous prisoner would be nearly impossible.
That was unless, the prisoner was unaware that he had been taken hostage.
The forces of Valor made a show of scouring the venue. Using Memories to effectively "scan" reflective surfaces. Searching for the monster that haunted their clan.
Much of Anvil's recent efforts had been used to come up with countermeasures to combat his son's fiendish Aspect. The greatest forgemaster in all history had naturally come up with improvements on his previous designs.
As a Sovereign, he was not bound by the limitations of smithing or even the Runic Sorcery of the Dream Realm, as his creations would bend to his Will to serve the purposes he desired.
So when he created powerful Charms that would make one immune to his Aspect, they would most certainly work. The small symbols of the sword and anvil was the crest of Valor, and worn on the attire of all who served under the Great Clan. The crests Saints and Masters now wore were able to keep Mordret from entering one's Soul Sea through their eyes.
Thus taking away his most dangerous means of attack.
However, Valor were not the descendants of War for nothing. They knew very well that Mordret was aware of these things, and so they knew what tactic he would employ to catch them by surprise.
As the night continued on and the attack never came, Madoc acted with slight notes of stress. However, everything was going as planned.
As the night drew to a close and the festivities became less grand and more personal, Madoc and the representatives of the Great Clans and Government got the hint. They were exchanging stories, talking about "good times" and things that all fit the dynamic of family.
Most of them had been invited as a formality. Though this event held on its surface the decorum of a Great Clans event, that was never what it was. In truth, this had always been a warm welcoming of family. This was something that unsettled Madoc to no end.
It didn't matter at the moment though.
"Jest, do you have him?" Madoc used a closed line for this question. However, instead of just Jest, he did include Tyris, as this included her as well.
"I do. Knight Torin's emotions fluctuated rapidly for a moment, however, they have now returned to normal. He claims he found the abomination, but it fled."
No words came from Saint Tyris, the one known as Sky Tide, but a regretful sigh did come through their telepathic communication.
"At ease, Tyris. He knew the sacrifice, and he has earned glory in the afterlife. Let us not sully his name by failing now," Madoc said.
As Whispering Blade calmed his old comrade, a shadow crossed his face at the eeriness of it all. Knight Torin was dead, and he was now replaced by that thing, of that, he had no doubt. Though each of their protection Charms were the genuine article, they knew better than to expect such a thing would stop that horror.
Still, the fact that the only indication of the takeover was the sudden fluctuation was terrifying. That meant that he had either learned how to fake emotions enough that they could even fool Jest's Aspect, or he had his hands on a Memory that could do the same.
Madoc reopened the telepathic communication to the rest of the Masters. It was entirely possible that the creature had his eyes on them, and would grow wary if they reacted to any information. Keeping them in the dark would be risky, but each of them knew that when the Saints made a move on one of them, they were to instantly assist.
"The fact the creature has not yet made itself known indicates that it is wary of attacking within the venue, likely to avoid the wrath of the Red Judge. Let us survey outside the Palace, and we will move from there."
…
Mordret had to do his very best not to start humming in sheer anticipation. Three Saints and five Masters was quite a force, even for him. There was a small chance he could survive if armed with all his Reflections, but unfortunately, he had recently sacrificed two of them in order to fulfill a certain condition for one another.
At the moment, he had two Transcendent Demons, a newly evolved Transcendent Beast, and one Ascended Titan.
He would have to move quickly in the next few days to nourish, create and nourish the other two. He wanted them to get to the level of Transcendent Beasts as well before the next big battle.
For now though, he was certain he could at least take out the Masters of this force.
Though, it was very, very tempting to take a crack at that brutish Saint Jest. All those years ago, that man was the one who led the original mission to capture him and put him in that godsforsaken cage.
Then of course there was his dear uncle. Mordret had a vague memory from when he had first returned from the Dreamspawns tutelage and returned home. He had been met with distaste from everyone, but Madoc specifically met him with total indifference.
The thing was, at least his father had the decency to be cloistered, and so Mordret never had to see those eyes that held nothing warm within them.
Madoc on the other hand would see him quite often, and the most he ever got out of the only family he saw on a regular basis was "move" or "go somewhere else".
Whispering Blade…was a truly splendid man.
Of course, all of this conflict was broiling far, far underneath the surface. Mordret had long learned to truly become the people he took over. It was not too hard, as the recent Memories would flow into him the moment the body became his. It was easy to reenact their mannerisms and movements, as simple as moving oneself behind a curtain.
Still, they were up to something. They probably suspected he was nearby, maybe they even knew he had taken over this Knight, but that wouldn't matter.
Mordret hadn't been idle either.
His Reflections moved in the Mirror Realm, following his position, and witnessing the presence of the Saints present.
It would be difficult for a Transcendent Beast Reflection to take down a Saint, even if the one they Reflected was that very same Saint.
However, if it was a Demon equipped with all their Memories, it might have a chance.
At least, it would have a chance against a normal Saint.
Unfortunately, none of these Saints were normal.
The fact that Sky Tide, who had already proven herself one of the strongest Saints by defeating another Transcendent Human during that conflict at Mordret's old prison, was the weakest among them was chilling.
Do I even want them to transform into these Saints? It might be better to go with a Nightmare Creature with a strange power. No, the best case scenario would be if they were just two Ranks higher, then they could Reflect Sunless. I know the guy doesn't like the spotlight, but a version of him with Transcendent strength may very well be able to kill these Saints…Maybe I should have one sacrifice itself to the other? No, no, I'm overthinking things. It's best to just stick with the strongest things possible.
Of course, in this situation, the strongest thing those Reflections could become were these Saints that now surrounded him.
Mordret, in the body of the Knight, tightened his jaw a bit as he looked out over Ravenheart with thinly veiled disgust.
The place was indeed quite ghastly, with the architecture long scorched to black from the ash of the volcano that crowned the Great Citadel.
"The glass is mostly stained," the Knight next to him muttered. "That thing wouldn't be able to hide well here."
Mordret, as Torin, shook his head.
"Remember, it is not just glass and mirror, any reflective surface can be used by that fiend."
To emphasize his point, he took out the Memory that was used to locate him. It was a Tool that looked similar to a tuning fork, but had zero reflective qualities. Still, when he touched it to the surface of a nearby brass basin, it shuddered silently.
Nothing else happened.
Mordret let out a sigh.
"That thing is a coward so it's possible that it was just bluffing when it sent that horrendous threat…but we must stay prepared. I simply can't imagine it doing nothing."
The Knight beside him nodded.
In the next moment though, they heard the gruff voice of Whispering Blade behind them.
"Knights, we are leaving. Wake of Ruin has called for us. Unfortunately, due to the terms of our agreement we struck for him bringing us here, we have to answer. The mission is to be suspended."
Both his fellow and Mordret put on a show of being disheartened at the failed mission, however neither dared say a word against the Clan Elder.
So they found themselves walking down the streets.
They still occasionally stopped to check out random large reflective surfaces, but found nothing.
It took some time, but they eventually made it out of the city and to the cliff side.
From this place, there was a sheer drop down to some more rocky mountains, and then even further down a mess of swamplands that stretched on for an inordinate amount of land. At the other end of that was New Yharnam. There were a few Citadels between here and there, and it would take someone who could fly perhaps a whole day to travel the distance.
Only Gehrman, with his absolutely ridiculous speed, could take the trip in less time.
About an equal distance away was the very edge of the Death Zone known as Godgrave.
That place was a truly apocalyptic scene.
The corpse of an entity that could only be a god lay on the ground, each of its bones the size of a country, and its whole mass akin to a continent.
What's more, above it was a cover of grey clouds that, when split, would unleash a devastating light that had the potency to burn anything and everything to ash. Not a single thing, not even Great, or likely even Cursed abominations, could survive the light.
The few visits into that Death Zone revealed only one solution. For whatever reason, if one remains absolutely still, they could survive.
It was almost as if the blazing light was a watchful eye of a most harrowing god, and ceasing movement created a blindspot in its wrathful judgment.
In any case, it was still very far off from Ravenheart. Though Mordret imagined it would be a place that would have to be excavated quite thoroughly during the war between the Domains of Song and Valor.
By the time he finished pondering the dreadful place, they had reached the gathering place.
Mordret as soon as he laid eyes on the others that he had been found out. Saint Cor was not here. Not only that, on the mountain path they found themselves on, they were technically outside Ravenheart.
Though still within Ki Song's Domain. The ability of the Sovereign to enforce her Will on the Saints with no conditions was now gone.
That's fine. This is good.
Madoc did not make a show out of being surprised Cor was gone, the second that they crossed the threshold, Mordret could feel the invisible blade whirling at him.
It was through no mystical or physical means by which he could sense it, but instead the raw fighter instinct granted to him by the War God's Lineage.
However, he did not dodge.
Instead, he simply let the body of Knight Torin be cleaved in two.
The moment before his torso slid off from his top half, he looked at the fellow Knight beside him, but they had their eyes closed.
It wouldn't have mattered.
In order to take Knight Torin, he had needed to kill him, surprise him, take away the Charm, and then add it again as a replacement.
The Knight appeared to not be expecting Mordret's physical body to make a move, nor did he expect to be racked with unimaginable pain that stuck him in place.
It had ended in less than a second.
However, such a feat was not able to be repeated in this instance. The other Knights were prepared, the Saints were prepared, by all accounts Mordret had fallen right into a trap.
A thrill ran through him, as he expected something truly dangerous to happen next.
Naturally, he fled through the eyes of the dying Master. Escaping in his true form, the elusive and invisible reflection.
Then he felt it.
That horrible, awful, feeling that had tormented him for years.
Ah, so the bastard really did modernize the design. A spark of panic and pain overwhelmed Mordret before being replaced with sadistic glee.
This was the very same type of prison that had held him on that damnable Citadel in the Chained Isles for all those years. It was essentially a maze of reflections.
The concept came from the behavior of mundane mirrors. When one mirror faced another and the reflections went on forever. This effect was weaponsized and then multiplied to create the first true prison that held Mordret. Dozens of mystical mirrors with many different hexes, attacks, and defenses all ran at all times to keep him utterly contained.
What's worse, it contained this version of him, his true essence, not just one of his many bodies.
Still, in that state without a mouth, he smiled with manic glee.
It is going to be simply so satisfying to kill you all today.