Frieren's firepower showed no signs of stopping. After cleansing the outskirts of the Mohgwyn Dynasty, she immediately fixed her gaze on her two enemies.
Whoosh!
The killing intent of the falling meteors was hair-raising. Morgott and Mohg, who had tried to block them a moment ago, immediately changed their strategy. They couldn't block it; it was hard to resist quality attacks with gravitational acceleration. Foolishly parrying would only expose their weaknesses.
They had no choice but to retreat to a safe distance.
However, the speed of Sorcery: Meteorite of Astel was beyond imagination, truly bursting forth from spatial vortexes. Each one was comparable to a true meteor.
Under the caster's exquisite control, they continuously rained down, one after another, exhausting the targets. In an instant, they were injured, almost losing their balance.
"I'm coming."
Mohg raised his Holy Spear, spreading a blood shockwave. The rippling energy pushed back the meteor swarm in a head-on clash with Frieren's attack.
But Gravity Magic is known for its immense power and wide range; the ground beneath their feet was so cratered that it was difficult to find footing or maneuver.
"Be careful."
Beside him, Morgott warned while simultaneously throwing a Light Sword into the air.
No, the Mimic Tear simply dispelled her invisibility, her light figure evading the Light Sword, while simultaneously using the force of her descent to strike with two Nightblades. A jump-slash combo caused blood to spurt from Mohg's body from head to toe.
He instantly half-knelt, coughing up fresh blood.
The heartbroken Morgott tried to intervene but was interrupted by the increasingly precise meteors. This phantom was far inferior to the Soul Cinder King in a direct confrontation.
He could only watch as the Mimic Tear landed an execution, her blade piercing through Mohg's body.
"Ugly creature, I'd like to see how your god saves you!"
Having succeeded, she immediately vanished, maintaining her distance. Their coordination throughout was sublime; from the very beginning, Frieren intended to cover her clone to deliver a fatal blow.
Their agile movements and exquisite tactical cooperation gave the enemy no chance.
The Great Rune sprinkled golden dust, healing Mohg.
Bathed in its light, he gasped for air and slowly straightened up. At this moment, Frieren's meteors and the Mimic Tear's Sorcery: Night Comet continued to press the attack, but they were firmly blocked by Morgott.
He was merely a phantom, his strength quite limited, making it difficult to parry the attacks of a top-tier Demigod and a newly born Demigod. His limbs were instantly covered in fresh wounds.
But the next moment, he felt a Blood Healing Magic enveloping his body, allowing him to barely sustain the assault.
Mohg, having recovered briefly, regained his state. His wings spread, shedding feathers, and his Great Rune operated at overload, providing the Shardbearer with unimaginable power. Blood seeped from his feet, and the ground surged with colossal waves straight into the sky.
"Don't get too smug, Frieren. That's not a domain that belongs only to you."
A false starry sky, shrouded in night, traversed by scarlet flames, burned continuously. Its extremely corrosive nature melted away the previous meteors, scattering molten rock like an apocalypse.
The two top-tier Sorcerers began to contend.
Crash!
The earlier meteor shower now transformed into lava connecting heaven and earth, forming lines in the blood fire and then rapidly solidifying. Thus, volcanic rock enveloped the entire blood pool domain from top to bottom.
Every place on the map tainted by blood was affected, either scorched by flames or destroyed by meteors.
"I won't let you keep casting spells." The Mimic Tear waved her hand, throwing an Incantation: Lightning Spear.
However, Morgott's golden Light Sword collided with it, clashing and neutralizing each other, intercepting the surprise attack for Mohg.
Just in time, both she and Frieren withdrew their magic.
Enough destruction. The Mohgwyn Dynasty, visible to the naked eye, could not be repaired in a short time anyway. What was more important now was for the Demigods to decide the outcome; only actual death could end this.
The two brothers took the offensive. Their Holy Spear and Cursed Sword unleashed mana, each step perfectly coordinated, each move with their minds as one.
Rumble!
They had never experienced such a tacit resonance, feeling exhilarated, their movements becoming even more agile. This battle was incredibly satisfying; it was the scenario they had always hoped for.
Morgott saw it as defending the Golden Order and suppressing rebels, fighting alongside his brother.
Mohg fought for ambition and to prove his supremacy.
The offensive unleashed by the two Omen Demigods was like an abyss, dismantling the mountain stronghold until it finally collapsed. The battlefield continuously slid, with the four combatants even fighting in mid-air. Their powerful mobility allowed them to move freely amidst falling rocks and even switch between offense and defense.
The main mountain range now began to collapse bit by bit, the upper layers crushing the lower ones and then sinking to even deeper levels.
Although the aftershocks were violent, most were blocked by Frieren. At this moment, she unleashed her full firepower, demonstrating her divine combat magic:
Ash of War: Thops's Barrier!
Ash of War: Carian Retaliation!
Parry!
A series of techniques unleashed without leaving any opening. Neither magic, Weapon Skills, nor blades could overcome the silver-haired girl.
From afar, it was clear that the Soul Cinder King was defending everything by herself. The adage "prolonged defense leads to defeat" did not apply to her, as her stamina, reaction speed, and mana never declined. It was as if she had entered a comfort zone, growing stronger with each strike.
This was precisely the kind of training, dancing in a storm, that she desired.
Frieren seemed to rediscover the awe she felt upon first entering the Old World. Her focused combat made her entire body surge, her mind, skill, and physique merging to reach the pinnacle of mastery; her technique had broken through.
Moonlight Wave!
Seizing a momentary gap, she even managed to unleash an attack from her Dark Moon Greatsword. Frosty sword energy swept across all directions, forcing the two back. But the next moment, they discovered that the true killing blow was the Mimic Tear's Night Sorcery, condensed into two sharp blades, thrust forward simultaneously.
"Your coordination has improved, but it's still no match for Mother."
After one move, the offense and defense shifted.
It was Frieren and the Mimic Tear's turn to unleash continuous killing blows, forcing them into constant retreat, finding no room for counterattack for a time. They had no choice but to fall back repeatedly, suddenly sliding down the mountain stronghold and plunging into the Temple Quarter.
Unbeknownst to them, they had reached the elite battlefield, whose most conspicuous landmark was the Minor Erdtree, seemingly rooted there for some time.
Suddenly, the Holy attribute of a golden blade surged, striking Mohg with lightning speed.
"My compliments to you."
Melina's short blade extended its edge, piercing through the Lord of Blood's chest. This strike was especially terrifying because another black-red energy spread along it…
"Quick, get away!" Morgott hastily pushed Mohg aside.
The next moment, Destined Death grazed them, sending a shock through everyone's hearts. So this was the terror of the so-called Death Rune. Even without a direct hit, it left the two Demigods with lingering fear, daring not to act rashly. A direct hit would be disastrous, certainly fatal.
Now they faced three Demigods: Frieren, Melina, and the Mimic Tear. The disparity was too great.
Although their coordination wasn't perfect, their powerful composition compensated.
"There's no other choice now," Mohg chuckled. "It had to be used eventually. Was this all within your expectations too?"
"—Formless Mother."
No sooner had he spoken than he spread his arms, and the aura of the Outer God fully descended.
A great flare of blood-light filled with corrosiveness, causing the tainted temple floor to sizzle with bloodflames. Even powerful Demigods felt their bodies decay.
This was bad; a considerably potent curse magic.
Frieren decisively ordered: "Everyone except me, Melina, and the Mimic Tear, evacuate from the Temple Quarter battlefield. You also pass the word to others to gradually withdraw. All that remains now is to kill Mohg."
"Understood."
The Southern Army elites, always disciplined and highly organized, immediately withdrew like a tide.
In reality, there were still scattered enemy soldiers present, but the leader's command had the highest priority. Moreover, most of those remaining would likely not survive. This place would turn into a purgatory.
As expected, the soldiers of the Mohgwyn Dynasty suddenly burst open, their skin tearing and blood flowing, completely converging into Mohg's body.
A phantom of a Blood Giant appeared behind him.
"Grace is wasted on you. Give it back to me."
After reclaiming all the blood mana, all the damage Mohg had accumulated so far was restored, leaving him unharmed, seemingly returned to his prime. From his aura, he was complete. The Blood Giant behind him roared to the sky, revealing intense excitement, anticipating sacrifice.
The Outer God and its Emissary joined forces; the entire Dynasty would become a petri dish. That killing intent would spare no living creature.
Cold.
Even though the surroundings were filled with flames, everyone felt their blood losing temperature.
From Demigods to common soldiers, everyone felt themselves bleeding, every tiny wound draining life, entering a countdown. It was clear that if this dragged on, everyone would die from excessive blood loss.
Indiscriminate and inescapable, focusing only on massive area-of-effect, coupled with Mohg's Great Rune reinforcement, it fully created a sacrifice ritual site.
Frieren, along with Melina and the Mimic Tear, dodged away.
Her style against new enemies was always incremental: first observe, then attack. The Outer God had to be regarded as a formidable foe, not to be underestimated.
Whoosh!
The entire Dynasty was once again dyed in blood, and the projection of the Formless Mother continuously expanded and grew, roaring and punching upwards.
The false starry sky was shattered once more, light shining brightly, also transmitting terrifying tremors. Rivers flowed backward, mountains rolled up, and everything on the surface surged like waves.
"You created this; this is my rebirth—"
The god spoke no words, yet a hoarse female voice echoed in everyone's minds.
The Aeonian Swamp, now Melina's transformed wetland, with blood-red bubbles popping up from the water.
Surrounding civilians were horrified.
At the same time, Redmane Soldiers galloped by on swift horses, constantly shouting: "The aftershocks from the underground battlefield are overflowing! Everyone, evacuate to open areas, stay away from the epicenter!"
Jerren of Redmane Castle ordered the gates opened to receive refugees. The Fort of Departure, despite its precarious terrain, was actually very sturdy, having withstood trials.
They noticed blood flowing from the ground and even brick crevices!
Their bodies faintly ached, as if a magic was calling forth agony, spreading across large areas of Caelid. Some weak-willed individuals immediately felt chills to their bones, crying tearfully: "We are finished!"
"It's the Outer God of Blood! Has our Caelid become a land of disaster again?"
However, the next moment, a colossal spiritual aura burst through the epicenter, also piercing through the surface and underground, contending equally.
From it surged a vast amount of primal life-force, reaching deep into the mind, spreading inclusive and supreme nourishment, like the life pulse from the beginning of creation, dispelling all evil.
"It's Her Majesty's Soul Protection!"
"And it's stronger than ever before! She used Great Runes."
As expected, had Frieren not used the blessing of two Great Runes, she would not have been able to mobilize such a large amount of spirit energy to scatter across The Lands Between. At this moment, she used the Elden Ring fragments' energy to empower her First Flame soul, expending it as if it were free to counteract the curse.
Regardless of the target, if it was within the Formless Mother's area of influence, she would dispel it.
The Southern Army主力 benefited most from the protection, with the bleeding curse on all 50,000 troops suppressed, thanks entirely to Frieren's counteraction.
Unfathomable!
How much mana could withstand such extravagance? A closer look would reveal that the actual caster did not truly utilize the Great Runes. She merely treated them as certification tools for a legal process, the actual consumption coming from herself.
Thus, Frieren maintained the protection for tens of thousands of people single-handedly.
Melina and the Mimic Tear on her sides stood firm, ensuring she remained undisturbed, at least for this period.
The army at the foot of the mountain quickly retreated.
The experienced Moongrum and Edgar were also adept at organizing the retreat, orderly commanding the 50,000 strong main force to quickly move to the edge of the Mohgwyn Dynasty. The strategic objective had already been achieved—the enemy's forces cleared out—leaving the rest to the Demigods.
The Blood Giant's distorted features showed anger; she, who had intended to harvest blood, was now furious.
Mohg sneered, but he was pleased that the enemy was using Great Runes in an irrelevant place, saving him from having to constantly guard against it. From now on, he could act completely without restraint.
"What are you doing? You've even drawn in an Outer God's corruption."
Even Morgott couldn't pretend not to see it.
If one went to such extremes to achieve the ambition of controlling the Elden Ring, what was the difference from the blasphemous Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy?
"Put aside your meaningless mercy. This is war, the final battle to change everything and end the calamity of the Shattering. As long as we win, The Lands Between can immediately be reunified under the Pure Order."
"Not necessarily. From what I see, Miquella hasn't responded to you at all, and may even have other plans."
"At worst, I will use the Great Runes to repair the Elden Ring and enter a long era of decline, at which point the initiative will be mine."
Having boarded the rogue's ship, Morgott knew he could no longer hesitate.
He and Mohg attacked together. This time, the Cursed Sword was wreathed in golden flame, and extreme Holy attribute damage combined with the blood sacrifice swept forth, instantly dimming even the Formless Mother's projection.
With a loud bang, all attacks went awry. Impossible, how could they both make a mistake simultaneously? It was Gravity Deflection, and the energy absorption of an Ancient Onyx Eye.
From the smoke, the silver-haired girl, having ended her Soul Protection, switched weapons.
Dual staves.
Frieren's wounds healed completely in the light of the Minor Erdtree, her condition also perfectly restored. With the support of the Mimic Tear and Melina, the final assault team was formed.
Her emerald eyes held deep killing intent.
She could no longer allow Mohg and the Formless Mother to rampage. Since everyone had been evacuated, it was time to go all out.
She chanted to her companions: "Leave all attacks to me. You just need to ensure my output isn't interrupted. I'm sick of blocking so many times; this isn't how to practice for combat flow. Hurry up!"
Her two companions nodded, trusting each other completely, entrusting their lives.
Starcall!
What greeted them was Frieren's so-called quick decisive battle, which was to directly pull the targets towards her, putting the three Demigods under immense gravitational pull.
Blue streams of light permeated the underground.
No one could have imagined Frieren would dare to take such a risk, pulling three powerful enemies towards her. It was indeed unexpected.
Multiple beams of Soul Stream shot from both her hands, covering the targets.
Only Morgott, a phantom, was severely battered.
The one who took the heaviest hit was Mohg himself. The intense soul tearing made him cry out in pain. Originally, the Outer God could protect him, but the Formless Mother also screamed, clutching her head—a burning sensation she had never experienced.
Souls were burning!
"No, I can still absorb souls! Your move is useless…"
No sooner had he spoken than he subconsciously touched his face. The twisted Omen Horns were peeling off, shattering bit by bit. This soul attack was so strong that the very organ for absorbing souls was destroyed.
Immediately followed by a piercing pain that made Mohg half-kneel, howling in agony, exposing a fatal weakness.
The Mimic Tear unleashed Sorcery: Night Comet.
At the critical moment, Morgott, having climbed back up, swung his Light Sword to interrupt, shouting: "Be careful! If our Omen Horns are severely damaged in a short time, it will be life-threatening. Don't get hit again!"
He himself had cut off most of the Omen Horns on his face, deeply understanding this pain.
However, the next moment, Mohg burst into maniacal laughter and stood up, forcefully straightening his posture and sustaining his immortality under the Formless Mother's pull.
He held his Holy Spear with both hands, spreading blood runes. As expected, all three of them began to suffer from blood loss status. This time, it was the strongest curse locked by the Outer God's power, impossible to dispel, so both sides aimed for the only solution.
Melina's Minor Erdtree light flared fully, even forming fruit-like glowing points above, healing those under its protection even as they bled.
But all of them would suffer continuous pain.
"Excellent. I love to see people suffer." Mohg's sadism intensified.
Morgott, standing beside him, grew increasingly worried, vigilantly watching the Formless Mother. There wasn't a single easy character around his younger brother.
How would this end?
"Frieren, Destined Death is ready. Only I can use it, so you must create an opening."
In front of everyone, she drew black-red marks from the void. Every living being in The Lands Between harbored a deep, ingrained fear of it. The cold stillness of death spread, and the battlefield fell silent.
"Good. I'll beat Mohg until he can no longer resist."
As a pure outsider, Frieren felt nothing particularly special. She had many similar methods against immortality. Of course, using the local mechanism was the most reliable.
The first to strike was the Mimic Tear's surprise Glintstone Pebble, the best harassment tactic.
Neither dodging nor taking the hit was ideal.
Since the start of the battle, Frieren had largely reined in her large-scale attack methods, handing that function over to more suitable individuals, while she merely disrupted the situation.
Whoosh!
Instantly, hundreds of Glintstone Pebbles shot out, even mixed with Soul Crystal Shards possessing elemental damage.
No one dared underestimate the Soul Magic inherited from Frieren. Everyone avoided the Mimic Tear's proactive provocation, and as a result, their formation scattered, pulling Morgott and Mohg apart.
Not enough. Melina then unleashed Incantation: Lightning Spear, tracking her old rival Margit, or rather, the Omen King of Leyndell, Royal Capital.
So fond of using phantoms, let's see what you're capable of.
The grudges formed at Stormveil Castle, combined with their inevitable future as enemies, made the would-be Tarnished Witch merciless, one after another, full of intense feeling.
How is this possible?
The more he fought, the more Morgott felt an utterly pure and supreme faith-based magic.
Perhaps among all the Golden Lineage scions, only Melina's faith was the strongest. But why did she follow Frieren? Did choosing an outsider not affect the purity of her faith?
As he pondered, the situation on the other battlefield suddenly changed.
Bang!
The Mimic Tear selflessly stood before Mohg and unleashed a Sorcery: Carian Piercer, striking him directly in a vital spot.
However, the frenzied Lord of Blood, unmoving as a mountain, lifted her up, preparing to utterly annihilate her with a surprised grappling throw. But Frieren recalled the Spirit Ash and immediately resummoned her.
The King of Night, reappearing, did not continue her attack but instead released a series of buffs: Ash of War: Golden Vow, Incantation: Flame, Grant Me Strength, Magic Empowerment, etc.
She even clutched her head and let out a piercing scream, her eyes blazing with fire.
Incantation: Shabriri's Howl, and all other buffs, were collectively effective. This was a result of Frieren specially adjusting soul resonance to bypass restrictions, a full party-wide reinforcement.
The silver-haired girl slammed both staves into the ground, a surge of Gravity Empowerment following.
The rocks of the entire mountain gathered, compressed, and even crystallized, forming two terrifying Rock Swords at the cost of collapse.
"Watch out—"
Morgott, seeing this scene, shouted a warning, but it was too late. The Mimic Tear simply cupped her hands, allowing Frieren to step on her and leap into the air.
Two rock Gravity blades jump-slashed at the Ancient Dragon.
This single strike, condensing the mountain, carved a thousand-meter-long purple rainbow through the air. The sheer power radiating from it was terrifying, let alone the force of the blade itself. It struck Mohg with immense force, tearing open a gruesome gash, even splitting the Formless Mother in two.
It wasn't over. Frieren spun in place, delivering another sweeping slash.
Slash!
The sword light, a fan-shaped shockwave, destroyed the ground, mountains, and forests, spreading to the buildings of Night's Sacred Ground, causing them to collapse layer by layer.
Purple magic replaced the eternal night sky, and an explosion cloud rose from the gap created by the Outer God, forming a smoke plume over Caelid that then became dark clouds.
A blow that altered the very heavens hit solidly.
"Still quite tenacious," Frieren genuinely sighed after dispelling the Rock Swords, for the blood-soaked Omen body before her still stood. Although fragmented, it was forcibly fused by the Formless Mother, preventing it from collapsing into mangled flesh.
So it was hard to say whether Mohg was truly alive or not, almost indistinguishable from the Outer God.
Merely a husk.
Not far away, Morgott watched heartbroken. Indeed, it was the Outer God sustaining his younger brother's last life and dignity, but was this a good thing? At this thought, he tried to step forward. It was time to withdraw—
"To pass, you'll have to step over my corpse." The Mimic Tear blocked the only path.
Morgott, frantic, had no choice but to engage her, his Cursed Sword and magic flying. However, this was the twilight of what had become a world-shaking battle.
Frieren's dual staves began to gather Soul Stream.
Even on his last breath, Mohg would not sit idly by. He fiercely threw a Holy Spear, but it was intercepted by Melina's golden blade, clanging into the ground, its magic gone.
Whoosh!
This time, the target was the Formless Mother. The red giant phantom wailed incessantly, mixed with vague curses, blasphemies, and roars, but ultimately, it could not withstand the full-power soul-damaging magic, only transforming into a wisp of smoke.
From this day forward, it would have no connection to The Lands Between. It could forget about invading again. This severe injury was a painful enough lesson, perhaps even causing permanent damage.
Because Frieren also permeated a wisp of First Flame, ensuring the target would be burned clean, including the entity it was attached to.
Mohg's soul was burning.
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