Moongrum held his spear horizontally, his other hand lightly tapping the ground. He stood ramrod straight, radiating an imposing aura; the power of his previous strike deterred anyone from rashly advancing.
Beside him was Edgar, who had followed closely, fully armed and ready to act.
A Carian Head Knight, a Banished Knight.
Not enough.
But that was judging by the common standards of the Lands Between. The aura they exuded was clearly far superior to those of their rank, the striking aura of the Great Rune's Grace was undeniably pure and supreme.
The Sanguine Noble said with a pale face, "How much Grace did the Soul of Cinder King give you? How many Runes did you expend?"
"Stronger than your Cursed Blood."
Moongrum retorted, while Edgar replied even more proudly:
"Her Majesty never uses Great Runes for combat. She always uses them for restoration, Grace, and research. This is a realm you will never comprehend in your lifetime."
Further words are useless; let our actions speak.
The two incompatible sides charged each other, the Spirit Ash Legion and monster legions in between were utterly unable to impede them, and suddenly plunged into fierce combat.
Magic and Weapon Skills flew wildly, mixed with various attributes like storm, frost, and blood, a dizzying sight. The prevalent energy forms of the Lands Between could all be found here, truly a grand mélange.
Clash!
The clash had reached at least the level of top-tier knights, and in an instant, it became the most dazzling part of the battlefield.
Under the example of Edgar and Moongrum, the Southern Army deployed all its elites, encompassing the Carian Knights and Storm Knights, two top-tier unit types, along with Grafted Scions, Earth Dragons, Dragon Communion practitioners, and other outstanding individuals, as well as aerial cover from Stormhawks and Flying Dragons.
They channeled their strength to one point, charging fiercely. They had to carve out a path for the main army to reach the mountain summit.
The strongest vanguard elites roared as they broke through enemy lines, stepping over enemy corpses, reaching the wide, flat summit.
"For the Soul of Cinder King, for the Lands Between!"
The Black Sun Fire Ring banner ascended from the foot of the mountain all the way to the summit, pointing directly at the temple. The imposing Southern Army intended to plant it atop one of the most conspicuous buildings in the underground world.
The Sanguine Nobles, as frontline commanders, directly felt the pressure; the situation was dire.
Due to the all-out charge led by Edgar and Moongrum, the defense line was torn open, and a flood of Southern Army soldiers poured in like a breached dam, all eager to claim enemy heads for rewards.
They couldn't allow them to continue; they had to work together to stop them.
The Sanguine Mages collectively used Cursed Contamination, but a vortex of Eternal Darkness appeared in the sky and sucked it all away.
Bang!
Accompanied by a loud bang, the Mimic Tear landed directly into the enemy formation, sneering, "Haven't seen you in a while. You haven't forgotten, have you?"
Almost simultaneously, several Bloody Finger Assassins attacked, but she wielded her Night Blade with both hands, dancing through them. No one could discern the blade's edge, trajectory, or form; only headless corpses fell, slain with a single strike.
As a Demigod, she also mastered the Night school, which excelled in assassination, stealth, and countering mages.
The Mimic Tear, having completed a sweep, pressed its advantage.
Alone in the enemy ranks, she pummeled her opponents, causing the hard-won organized Mohgwyn Dynasty defenders' front lines to totter and collapse. For a moment, she had no equal, breaking apart everything she touched, completely unstoppable by a Demigod's power.
The pale elf's figure, wielding purplish-black magic, swept in all directions, piercing through the blood-light and annihilating countless monsters.
She had turned Night Magic into a combat art for the battlefield, showing Frieren's modified style, emphasizing large-scale firepower.
Invincible.
Wherever the Mimic Tear trod, corpses piled high.
This tough battle exposed a serious flaw in the Mohgwyn Dynasty: they lacked powers at the level of divine beings. They couldn't even slightly impede a Demigod, nor did they have corresponding unit types.
If it were Capital, using Crucible Knights, Draconic Tree Sentinel, Ancient Dragon Knights and several other means, it would be no problem to hold back an ordinary Demigod.
In fact, the Lands Between also lacked them. Or rather, outside of Capital, the Lands Between couldn't muster so many countermeasures against Demigods; this was a difference in foundation.
And the Mimic Tear taught the Mohgwyn Dynasty army a good lesson with brute force:
"After so many years of development, your military strength is only this much? You're not even as good as us."
Her mocking laughter also stung them.
However, they couldn't afford to be enraged, because more than half of the Southern Army's main force had arrived at the summit battlefield.
A vast, dense, boundless sea of people.
Under the complete encirclement, the home side was surprisingly forced to gradually retreat.
"Use the Cursed Blood monsters to provide cover. You all retreat to the temple. This is the final battleground."
Mohg's voice echoed in their minds, instantly boosting the morale of the Mohgwyn Dynasty army, who fought and retreated towards the temple.
That would be the narrowest and highest part of the path, with a large area of complex cave terrain in between.
"Trying to escape?"
Sorcery: Night Comet fell like rain, leaving a trail of corpses among the retreating enemy forces.
The Mimic Tear wanted to pursue but was stopped by Frieren. The silver-haired girl and Melina walked side-by-side, and the army parted for them.
The next moment, Chaos Flame scorched the earth, sweeping in a circle to annihilate them in absolute purification.
A single strike to break an army was commonplace for Frieren.
Moreover, her main body was currently under various stacked buffs, her output capability extremely strong, reaching the limit of her current Astrologer "account", easily clearing all obstacles.
However, there were still some scattered rearguard forces harassing them.
"The top isn't a battlefield that can accommodate too many people. The elites will go up with me; the rest of you will completely suppress this mountain."
Melina volunteered, "I'll go with you and provide healing. If I invest more Faith magic, its range can extend to here. If anything goes wrong, I can use my Sealing Magic to help you."
"Mimic Tear, stay here and ensure this battlefield is cleared quickly."
"Rest assured, Mother."
Then Frieren looked at Moongrum and Edgar. As co-commanders, they naturally had to stay with the largest number of troops to ensure efficient command.
Overall, however, there was little difference between the two battlefields. Even the summit was visible, meaning the range of sight was the range of strike.
Thus, the side with the advantage could coordinate firepower across all battlefields to ensure suppression.
Therefore, the powerful Mimic Tear was stationed here, capable of supporting various points when needed.
Frieren and Melina, meanwhile, ascended the final flight of stairs with the Spirit Ash Legion, Carian Knights, and Dragon Communion Army.
The path was filled with crimson Living Corpses and Albinaurics.
"Using obstacles of this quality? Are you stretching yourselves thin?"
Frieren casually waved her hand, and Chaos Flame evaporated a large area.
But then she raised an eyebrow, surprised by the unexpected influx of Runes.
So many!
Inside the temple, Mohg looked astonished. He didn't know why he sensed the Albinaurics on the path rapidly disappearing.
"Are they not fighting anymore, just farming Runes now?"
But he had more pressing matters.
At this moment, the Mohgwyn Dynasty's remaining elite forces reached the highest point of the temple, bowing in respect.
"Very good. You are the elite who endured the most brutal battlefields. Now, the Formless Mother will also bestow Grace upon you."
Mohg raised his Sacred Spear and a totem appeared, flowing with blood:
"Bathe in this baptism; it is a gift of power."
The warriors accepted without hesitation. In the Lands Between, any blessing was a great honor.
"Praise be to you."
As their bodies were steeped in blood, power surged forth.
A warmth spread through their limbs and bones, veins bulged, and muscles swelled, and magic seemed to tangibly overflow, inexhaustible.
They felt their strength skyrocketing from the depths of their hearts, truly worthy of an Outer God representing blood and suffering. Even its blessing carried this immense power.
There was a twinge of pain, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the surging strength.
The approximately one thousand elites gathered in the temple were all blessed, becoming significantly stronger.
Watching this group of ecstatic fools, Mohg's lips curled into a smile.
"A bunch of idiots. They don't know the cost is their own lives, to be burned out sooner or later."
Blessings in the Lands Between were unbidden (or rare).
Strictly speaking, perhaps the "Soul Blessing" Frieren wielded counted, because it relied entirely on Great Runes to provide energy, a truly cost-free transaction.
Yet, didn't she also forgo using it to enhance her own combat power? It was also a cost, simply one she didn't care about.
What kind of person was this maverick Quasi-King?
The clone's communication was ultimately inferior to direct interaction, and now Mohg finally had the chance to meet his archenemy.
Whoosh!
The Southern Army's banner rose on the final mountain ridge passage, revealing the imposing combined elite army, which then parted ways.
Before she even arrived, a terrifying flood of mental power had already scanned the temple inside and out.
The newcomer was a girl with a crown and twin pigtails, long pointed ears, emerald eyes, flawless features, and a soft, even slightly rounded face. She wore silver light armor over a mage's robe, short boots, and a red capelet.
"So, it was you who brought Miquella."
A true Quasi-King, the one closest to the Elden Ring in thousands of years, the monarch who conquered the most territories.
Frieren, with the Dark Moon Greatsword in one hand and Lusat's Glintstone Staff in the other, was ready.
Her entire body shimmered with various buffing lights, poised for action, but she didn't rush to attack. Instead, she looked around curiously, her gaze falling on Mohg after a wary glance at the Empyrean's cocoon.
"Yes, surprised? Someone obtained the Empyrean of the Golden Order before you. I've been waiting here with him for an opportunity."
"Opportunity is created, and your preparations aren't very impressive either."
She looked around.
The dilapidated ruins, the pervasive scent of blood in the air, and the sound of the Mohgwyn Dynasty crumbling all mocked the Lord of Blood's declarations.
Even Mohg found it somewhat hard to bear, retorting:
"Whether it's you or that Marika scion who appeared from nowhere beside you, both are bloodlines outside the Golden Dynasty, and ultimately cannot shake the eternal system. It's all futile. In comparison, Miquella and I are the supreme union."
"The Mohgwyn Dynasty has indeed endured some trials, but your level of strength is insignificant; the outcome will not change."
As a descendant of Marika and Godfrey, he was confident in representing the highest bloodline.
In this collapsing world, it had descended into such chaos that even a Demi-Human bastard could flaunt themselves.
Could an Omen not be King? Morgott was too dogmatic; the Omen King's destiny he wouldn't pursue, Mohg would fulfill himself.
That foolish elder brother Roderick probably wouldn't make it in time. Good, too; when he arrives, he will witness victory.
Mohg waved his hand and said, "Go, adorn the temple with the enemy's blood."
Before he finished speaking, the Mohgwyn Dynasty Blessed Warriors poured out, engaging the Southern Army in a chaotic battle, flesh flying, sand and stones swirling.
There was no formation, only pure, desperate close combat.
In a single clash, both sides were battered and bruised.
Under the effect of Blood Magic, their attacks were furious, knowing no pain or fatigue, and they actually gained the upper hand for a time.
Minor Erdtree.
Melina immediately clasped her hands together, casting a super-wide-range Healing spell. Warm golden light spread from the mountaintop to the main battlefield, enveloping the blood pool, as if truly planting a Golden Order tree in the cold underground world, generously bestowing all blessings.
"You troublesome nuisance again."
An annoyed Mohg swung a Blood Blade but was interrupted by Frieren's Moonlight Wave. With her blocking, no attack could hope to pass.
That's why Melina confidently unleashed her full-power Incantation.
As the Incantor, she knew best how strong her Tarnished partner was; they had absolute trust in each other.
Sorcery: Comet Azur!
Dealing with such constantly ambushing opponents left no room for gradual probing. Even Frieren was somewhat annoyed, showing no mercy.
The enhanced Comet Azur shot forth.
Mohg, unwilling to be outdone, countered with a torrent of blood-light. He had no intention of dodging; he wanted a satisfying fight.
Blue light and red light, high-speed magic, collided, evenly matched. The two casters—one heavily buffed, the other acting as an Outer God's blessed agent—both unleashed a full-power strike.
Space warped and collapsed around the point of intersection. The ultimate might of magic could shake fundamental laws, let alone Frieren and Mohg, both wielding high-tier powers—Bang!
The first to collapse was the temple ground, and the trajectory of their attacks shifted. They both, without prior agreement, extinguished their spells to conserve magic, staring coldly at each other, their staffs and Sacred Spear gripped tightly in hand, allowing no room for relaxation.
"What powerful magic," the same thought flickered in their minds.
Mohg never expected that the Outer God's blessing and the sacrifice of beings hadn't granted him an advantage.
Did this mean he needed to strengthen further? Truly troublesome.
He harbored some wariness towards the Formless Mother, unwilling to fully merge and act as her agent.
Not to mention the Great Runes.
The Lord of Blood, having collected his thoughts, flickered and moved, actively changing the battlefield, while the silver-haired girl pursued in cooperation.
Neither side wanted to affect their hard-earned bases, so they simply decided to fight a decisive battle on the mountaintop.
Frieren's face was calm as water, but inwardly, a storm was brewing, and the web of skin between her thumb and forefinger trembled slightly.
The Outer God's power was not to be underestimated; her Astrologer build's foundation was nearing its limit.
But victory and defeat were never about raw numbers; she always relied on solid fundamentals.
Grinding down the enemy little by little was a sensible approach.
Moonlight Charge!
The frosty aura flowing on the surface of the Dark Moon Greatsword became even more condensed. Even Mohg felt a chill.
He quickly tried to interrupt by swinging a Blood Blade, but unexpectedly, Frieren's figure flickered and entered Night Magic.
Was it stealth? As the thought crossed his mind, he immediately unleashed a wide-range blood-light, but the next moment, the sword light appeared before him, a direct and open clash of strength.
The Moonlight Wave struck him hard, causing Mohg to stagger, almost losing his footing.
"Is this a trace of spatial distortion?"
The poise-breaking ability of the Dark Moon Greatsword was indeed formidable, making even a top-tier Demigod's footing unsteady, but he recovered the next moment.
His Sacred Spear parried the sword's edge with a clang.
The immense force made Frieren take a step back to disperse the momentum, and even then, her feet dug deep pits.
"It's a precise defense! The timing was also good, but I'll be more flexible."
Immediately after, the silver-haired girl advanced again, preparing to charge.
Bloodflame Talons!
Suddenly, countless blood thorns guarded Mohg's body, each one sharp enough to cut through iron like mud.
Advancing alongside Frieren was a Glintstone Sword Phalanx, glintstones transforming into one large cleaver after another, effectively starting a "logging operation."
Two magics erupted in red and blue clashes, the mountaintop covered in bloodflame talons, which were then severed by glintblades.
Both sides were to engage in super-high-speed combat amidst falling rocks.
Sure enough, Mohg's spear extended with Bloodflame Talons at this opportune moment, but Frieren suddenly vanished from in front of him. The next moment, a Moonlight Wave attacked from the side.
Clang!
His free hand condensed a Blood Blade to parry, but his body still developed a frosty sheen.
Whenever he tried to counterattack, the silver-haired girl would interrupt him from an unexpected angle. Her footwork, movement, and judgment were all on par with a top-tier warrior.
Coupled with the Glintstone Sword Phalanx, she unleashed a combination assault, and the pressure surged.
However, the law of "prolonged defense leads to defeat" did not manifest in Mohg's case.
The Lord of Blood consistently parried from his position.
Even with wounds carved into his body by the Dark Moon Greatsword, he continued his stationary combat tactic, utterly unfazed.
Hiss!
Immediately after, a Dark Moon appeared. Fortunately, he dodged in time, or he would have been caught in a combo.
Looking at the gaping hole blasted into the mountainside by the moon disc, he pondered, his eyes lighting up.
"...So that's it. Sorcery: Gravity Well has reached the realm of spatial displacement. You truly are a genius."
"I merely studied Azur's methods," Frieren replied modestly.
"Him? A mere failure. And I'm certain that fool underestimated me. You, however, are different. You used Night Magic for protection and assistance, combined with a warrior's skill, to wound me. Not bad. A pity it's useless."
Mohg grinned and lightly brushed away the frosty sheen on his skin.
Even the wounds inflicted by the Dark Moon Greatsword vanished, and his aura even subtly surged.
Grace!
The Formless Mother's power allowed any injury to heal quickly, not even affecting him. On the contrary, the more he was injured, the more his magic was replenished.
All suffering is power; all blood shall be mine to command.
The moment he healed, he darted forward, thrusting his Sacred Spear. This was Mohg's first active offensive since the start of the battle.
It struck Frieren's Dark Moon Greatsword with a clang. A precise parry, followed by a counterattack—
But the next moment, the silver-haired girl retreated with furrowed brows, yet the Blood Curse still flowed along the weapon.
Her sword-wielding right hand was flayed open, and Bloodflame Talons grew from it.
This wasn't even the main issue; it actually made her feel intense pain for the first time in a long while.
Normally, at her level of physical prowess, it would be hard to be shaken, and ordinary injuries wouldn't affect her performance.
But the Blood Magic seemed to awaken the most fundamental physiological reactions.
When injured, there should be piercing pain; when bleeding, life force should be drained. This was the law.
Hemorrhage!
Although the experienced Frieren immediately employed countermeasures to suppress it, it was clear that as the battle progressed, the continuous HP drain effect would be inevitable.
"How does it feel? As a Demigod, to recall the pain of weakness?"
"Not I," Mohg burst into laughter. "I was born strong, the possessor of the strongest bloodline. That is the difference."
He paused slightly, because Frieren also smiled.
"Indeed, in many places I've been, a slight misstep would lead to continuous bleeding or even reduced stamina limits. The sense of tension is back."
Various memories flooded her mind, stirring and profound.
The silver-haired girl's magic did not decrease; instead, it increased, with faint traces of spectral heroes rising around her.
Mohg had seen similar techniques during the Battle of Caelid. They could manifest spectral heroes to fight, a direct manifestation of soul damage.
Then he too had to be careful.
The Grace indeed possessed a great advantage mechanism as he claimed, but it couldn't defend against mental or soul damage.
Moreover, Frieren was a master in that area; he had to pay 120% attention, or he would be ambushed.
As the thought crossed his mind, thousands of Cursed Blood arrows streaked forth.
Buzz!
They converged into a cloud, directly covering the area while shielding Mohg's figure as he quickly retreated to gain distance.
Although he wasn't afraid of close-quarters combat, ranged attacks allowed him to maximize firepower. The most terrifying damage in the Lands Between often came from magical offenses.
The convergence of blue and red lights caused continuous explosions overhead, drawing the gaze of both armies.
They clearly saw the mountain peak shrink under the barrage of Cursed Blood arrows, its power immense enough to flatten it.
Yet, under such firepower, exquisite Glintstone Magic intercepted each one, and Frieren advanced against the Blood Magic, her spectral heroes carving through wave after wave of attacks.
Soul Golem!
A greatsword, longer than a golem's, suddenly cleaved down. Mohg strenuously resisted, facing this momentum.
His Sacred Spear single-handedly blocked the attack, while his other hand created Bloodflame Talons and pierced Frieren's shoulder, attempting to drain her power.
"—That's quite painful."
"Damn it, your expression doesn't look like you're backing down at all."
Although the Blood Curse on her body made healing difficult, the silver-haired girl's movements didn't falter in the slightest.
She pressed her sharp sword down with her entire small frame, applying force along with the golem, making the Sacred Spear unable to hold.
Mohg further activated Bloodflame Talons to absorb Frieren's blood and curse her.
Yet he couldn't shake her towering figure. Immediately after, the golem's sharp sword descended. The blade passed through her body without creating any wounds, but it ripped out a strand of soul energy.
A horrific scream echoed through the temple.
The already grotesque and terrifying Omen roared with a distorted face; the soul-piercing pain drove him mad.
"Good, truly one of the most destructive magics."
Mohg, who had been laughing, forcibly suppressed the damage. At the same time, with a wave of his hand, the souls of some deceased Sanguine Knights actively flew towards him, disappearing into the horns crisscrossing his face.
His previous soul damage recovered slightly.
"Absorption?"
Frieren had heard the reason why Omens were Omens: because the souls of the deceased would be absorbed by them, escaping the Golden Order's cycle of rebirth.
The people of the Lands Between valued souls more than life; this act was blasphemous and unforgivable, making local residents fear, detest, and reject it from the bottom of their hearts. So, he could actively absorb souls for replenishment.
"Margit never used it. It seems he still held some benevolence."
"—Don't mention that name to me. His name is Morgott, my elder brother, a child of Marika."
"He is the Grace-Given King?"
______
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