Only multiple Great Runes and magical arts of the highest caliber could shape such a spectacle.
The moment the long, flower-field staircase took form, all fell silent.
Frieren clapped her hands, concluding the spell as if she had done something trivial. She then turned her thoughts to various possibilities and new ideas, completely ignoring the stunned silence of the crowd.
She could be certain that as the power of the Elden Ring stabilized the gravity of the underground world, future development would only become more and more convenient.
"A miracle from Her Majesty!"
"Does this mean we don't have to take the detour through the underground route anymore?"
"From Caelid back to Limgrave, it's a direct path now!"
The new route, right before their eyes, brought a collective sigh of relief from the entire Southern Army. The previously somewhat somber atmosphere was reignited, a feeling comparable to a victory.
The underground world was once oppressive and sealed, but now everything was open and magnificent, a path connecting heaven and earth.
In the distance.
The inhabitants of the Ancestral Woods cheered excitedly, celebrating in a primitive but passionate way. Mana was returning, the contamination was diminishing, and nature was budding with new life. Even the aura of the Regal Ancestor Spirit was beginning to revive.
Although that Shardbearer waged war in all directions, leaving not even the land of the Ancestor Spirits untouched, she had ultimately guided the underground world toward a new beginning. They were deeply shaken by this.
Perhaps Frieren couldn't hear them, nor did she care, but this gratitude would be remembered. The great Ancestral Woods, nourished by the surface's Erdtree, would bear even more fruit. From this day forward, this place would no longer remain silent and lonely; they had more room for development.
Some of the Ancestral Followers cast eager glances toward the Southern Army's position, unable to wait. Since the Soul Cinder King had already set a great tide in motion, connecting the upper and lower worlds, it would be difficult for the Ancestor Spirits to remain uninvolved. It was better to actively embrace the change itself and support the new monarch.
Night's Sacred Ground.
The remnants of the Nox civilization, home to numerous sorcerers, sensed it immediately. Three Great Runes were working at full power to repair it.
The neighbor they had always worried about was utterly destroyed. Even for an ancient dynasty that dared to hunt gods, they were unwilling to deal with a faction that combined elements like the Omen, Blood, and Outer Gods. They wholeheartedly approved of its destruction—a good thing, as they no longer had to guard against Mohg's schemes.
However, another matter could not be ignored: the underground world would be further opened to the surface. Unification was now unstoppable.
Their last parting with Frieren didn't mean she had forgotten that a group of Nox people were rooted underground, still possessing considerable strength. It was only because she was busy hunting for the Fingerslayer Blade at the time that she hadn't pressed the issue.
She could tolerate enemies in her sight, but not those who would disrupt the process of restoration.
If the Nox people continued to seal off their corner of the world, allowing Mimic Tear creatures and nightmarish zombies to thrive, then they would be acting contrary to the Soul Cinder King's philosophy.
Even if Frieren had no intention of launching a crusade, it didn't mean the Carian Knights and Godrick Knights would ignore it.
"Either submit or die."
The elite soldiers who once served the Elden Lord knew very well that in The Lands Between, dealing with insubordinate forces required striking at the source. This would save everyone some trouble and earn more recognition.
"Besides, our King of Night is also with the Southern Army."
Someone spoke up, reminding them of the most crucial point—the fruit of their kingmaker project. 1
"Don't be foolish. She has the ambition to reshape The Lands Between; she won't overlook this corner. Don't think for a moment you've been forgotten. She remembers the Nox."
"What should we do?"
"We can neither hide nor defend. We must contact the Southern Army and proactively cooperate with their underground development plan."
After a lively discussion, the Nox people reached a unanimous agreement. Once, they had fought alone, touching upon a bottomless conspiracy. Now, they had the strongest possible ally with a shared stance, a natural backer.
They were already ancient remnants; they couldn't afford to be clueless anymore. One more misstep would mean extinction.
Pledging allegiance was the best choice.
Night's Sacred Ground gradually grew lively. They didn't even notice that the bewitchment, madness, and cold darkness that had influenced their hearts for years were slowly departing. Wherever the light reached, hearts burned with passion.
At the edge of Caelid's great chasm, a signal flare streaked across the sky, symbolizing victory.
Such a commotion could not escape the notice of the Redmane Army. Jerren personally led a team to the collapsed opening, only to witness a long staircase made of a flower field leading straight down.
"It's Her Majesty's handiwork. Signal with the flags."
Flags of various kinds fluttered at the edge of the chasm, visible even in the deep underground, not to mention to flyers like the Stormhawks.
"We've linked up!"
Below, the soldiers who recognized the signal shouted with excitement. Despite being in the accursed and dangerous Mohgwyn Dynasty, the existence of the passage gave them a strong sense of security. Haven't they already rendezvoused? The underground and the surface were no longer separate, but integrated under the mighty power of the Soul Cinder King.
Seeing this, Edgar immediately made contact, and after conferring with Moongrum, they decided to transport the heavy supplies back first.
Their idea was approved by Frieren, as she also wanted to verify its reliability; if any collapse occurred, she could provide immediate rescue.
In a sense, the expedition was already over.
However, the high command of the Southern Army had not forgotten an important matter.
Melina asked, "Mohg's corpse is still emitting contamination, making it difficult to handle. And there's no movement from Miquella's Cocoon of Slumber. What should we do? Frieren, do you have any ideas?"
"Let's gather them first."
A moment later, a squad of knights carefully moved the Shardbearer's body to the center of the mausoleum. Beside it was the giant cocoon, from which a withered and slender arm protruded, likely belonging to the Empyrean of Unalloyed Law. It showed no reaction whatsoever, even now.
The five members of the high command gathered here, looking at each other.
Frieren, the first to inspect it, concluded: "Destined Death has completely destroyed the soul, while the body has been corrupted by the Outer God and by me..."
"So Mohg carries a strong contamination. If left unchecked, it could trigger a disaster similar to that of Godwyn, the Prince of Death. I don't think he's an existence that died peacefully like Ranni; this one's resentment is rather difficult to dispel."
"Furthermore, the Miquella before us is not the real him."
"Huh?"
The flood of information was bewildering. No one knew what to say, and could only watch as the silver-haired girl knelt down and wiped some dust from the ground.
"There was an internal strife here that injured Miquella, causing him to separate a part of his body and his entire soul to leave... No, perhaps he transferred his soul even longer ago? Mohg was deceived..."
"He truly is the most dangerous Empyrean. Be careful," Melina warned sincerely.
The remaining three were noncommittal. The process of deduction wasn't important; they were just waiting for Frieren to give the order.
"Report, Your Majesty—"
Suddenly, a Carian Knight spoke: "A small party claiming to be followers of Miquella has arrived. They are led by Leda, the Knight of the Golden Needle from the Haligtree, who requests an audience with you. They mentioned the Land of Shadow."
"They could have come at any other time, but they chose now. What a coincidence."
Outside the Mohgwyn Dynasty.
Clan banners fluttered in the wind as the great army stood in formation. Fresh from a fierce battle, they radiated a murderous aura, imposing and extraordinary.
When tens of thousands of gazes fell upon the small party of followers, even masters of a hero's caliber felt their scalps tingle. Anyone below the level of a Demigod would be instantly turned to paste in the midst of such a host.
The few of them felt a bit restless and couldn't help but mutter to themselves:
"Isn't seeking an audience with the Soul Cinder King just asking for trouble? She might not approve of Lord Miquella's all-embracing law, and in terms of their positions, they are competitors."
"When it comes to the clash of divine monarchies, the struggle for legitimacy in The Lands Between is a battle to the death."
"Rest easy."
As if sensing everyone's concerns, Leda at the forefront spoke softly, her expression unchanged in the face of the elite army.
She was worldly. Setting aside her fearless loyalty to Lord Miquella, the current Haligtree army was the only force comparable to Leyndell, Royal Capital. It was filled with masters and diverse troop types, its accumulation over thousands of years far stronger than the Southern Army.
They were just upstarts. Apart from the Carian Knights, none were worth mentioning.
"They're sure taking their time." The impatient Freyja muttered with her arms crossed, "The report is taking too long. Is it that far up?"
"They must be discussing it..."
The others—Danzha, Xuriye, Yier, and the rest—remained silent, observing the situation while pondering if they could break through the army and escape should a conflict arise.
Soon, they let go of all such thoughts as a powerful spiritual force descended.
It was as if an eye opened in the air, scrutinizing them all. Their scalps tingled, and a chill ran down their spines. The mere hint of vigilance manifested as tangible pressure.
"The Soul Cinder King!"
At the same time, a knight came to guide them: "Please follow me. Her Majesty awaits our distinguished guests."
The party members exchanged glances, their hearts tightening. After all, the quasi-monarch's pressure gave them a sense of caution. But in the end, they followed, since they had to meet and talk eventually.
The path led straight up the slope.
Only by truly setting foot here did they realize how severely the Mohgwyn Dynasty had been destroyed.
The ground beneath their feet was littered with rubble, burying the corpses of Albinaurics, monsters, Sanguine Nobles, and knights. Blood stained the collapsed halls and broken walls. Not a single intact building could be seen, only endless devastation.
They were shattered like fragile works of porcelain, and the earth itself must have been tossed and turned like a wok.
It was as if it had been flipped upside down. Rocks were overturned, caves exposed, and there were traces of numerous meteorite fragments.
"It's Gravity Magic." As a Redmane warrior, Freyja recognized it at a glance and sighed, "I'm afraid its power is even greater than General Radahn's."
"Yes, it is the fruit of her victory over Astel."
The guiding knight immediately agreed, feeling this person had a discerning eye.
However, Leda's heart sank, and her face under the helmet grew even dimmer. The Soul Cinder King's power assessment was being revised upward again and again. If she couldn't persuade her to relinquish Mohg's corpse and head to the Land of Shadow, would she have to resort to hypnosis?
She completely trusted Miquella's command, but now the difficulty seemed to be increasing. She had to be prepared to pay a price.
"No matter."
Suddenly, a whisper reached her ear: "You will succeed."
The familiar voice made Leda look around. It was a telepathic message from Miquella. Indeed, he had left a considerable amount of his power here, allowing for communication.
At least this brought a bit more reassurance.
The small party strode to the mountaintop area, where a majestic mausoleum came into view. Compared to the dilapidated ruins outside, this place was perfectly preserved, the only structure suitable for an audience.
They immediately felt numerous gazes upon them. It was the elite army, lined up on both sides.
Most conspicuous were the Great Wyrms and Flying Dragons, grinding their teeth and gnashing their horns on the ground, flames flickering from their mouths, ready to cover everyone in a breath of fire and burn them to cinders at any moment.
These behemoths had rampaged through the siege, and Leda, who had observed from afar, had seen their performance.
"Troublesome."
Beside them, Dragon Communion zealots and grafted nobles were also on high alert.
It was inevitable. The Mohgwyn Dynasty was too close to the rear of the Limgrave army, and any movement related to it would be scrutinized. It was natural to be wary of these so-called followers of Miquella who had appeared out of nowhere.
The Carian Knights were relatively more courteous, silently nodding in greeting.
But they valued dignity, standing ramrod straight as if in a ceremonial procession, their presence imposing as they jointly guarded the very pinnacle of the mausoleum.
Leda looked up and saw Edgar and Moongrum, each leading a contingent, standing before the throne, hands on their sword hilts, staring unabashedly at the uninvited guests.
Further up was...
Beside a throne cobbled together from various weapons of the Mohgwyn Dynasty, a silver-haired elf was enthusiastically hammering away, even draping it with white swan-feather velvet for decoration. She was the newborn Demigod, the strongest Tear lifeform, the King of Night.
The Mimic Tear completely ignored the visitors—they were too weak, and Mother's majesty was more deserving of its attention.
On the other side was a person in a traveler's cloak with one eye covered—Maiden Melina. She was unheard of, yet upon her debut, she was a Golden Lineage Demigod, one of the variables that could not be overlooked.
On the throne, naturally, was Frieren, her expression as placid as still water.
Her reputation was well-deserved.
The bloodlust and aura from the great battle still clung to her. Her azure eyes projected the vastness of her soul, piercing through one's mind. Though her expression was somewhat weary and bored, she was sharper than anyone, especially with her bottomless well of magic that inspired awe.
"Despite having fought Mohg, Morgott, and the Formless Mother, she was in perfect condition?"
And her gaze first glanced at the small party, then at the Cocoon of Slumber behind them, as if deep in thought. Had she discovered something?
Suppressing her thoughts, Leda bowed before the steps.
"Leda, Knight of the Golden Needle, extends her greetings to Your Majesty, Frieren."
The entire party also bowed deeply, which finally eased the tense atmosphere a little. As long as you acknowledged the Soul Cinder King, you could be observed a bit longer.
"Mm. Yes..."
The silver-haired girl pondered for a moment before replying, "Miquella's power of bewitchment is evident in you... but it doesn't seem to be against your own will. To make you follow him, he must have great charisma. Both on a magical level, and on an intellectual one."
"Your Majesty, that is why we have come to rescue our lord. His soul is far away..."
"I would very much like to chat with the creator of the Haligtree. How does one achieve the integration of different races in The Lands Between? Miquella might be a friend worth making."
"Your Majesty, that is why we have come to rescue our lord. His soul is far away."
"I would very much like to chat with the creator of the Haligtree. How does one achieve the integration of different races in The Lands Between? Miquella might be a friend worth making..."
"Then you wish to save him as well?"
Leda's slightly urgent voice, however, made Frieren shake her head.
Enough with the pleasantries. If it weren't for appearances, she couldn't be bothered with small talk. No matter how you looked at it, the Empyrean of Unalloyed Law was deeply problematic.
"From a political standpoint, shouldn't I let a competitor fend for himself?"
The silver-haired girl retorted, "So what reason is there for me to intervene on Miquella's behalf? He would choose another king, one who opposes me."
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