As the golden light flared, Roderika and Nepheli answered Lloyd's summons, their forms slowly coalescing within the shimmering motes of radiance.
Then, they opened their eyes.
Long ago, at the very beginning of their tale, both Roderika and Nepheli had stood in this very place. Back then, Roderika was still an ordinary girl—unable to even perform spirit tuning—nearly driven mad by Chaos itself.
As for Nepheli, though she already possessed commendable strength at the time, it was only that—commendable. She, too, had been lost, knowing nothing of what awaited her future.
But now...
The Master of Souls spread her hands wide. Countless spirits poured forth from the Spirit Ashes she cradled, taking shape in midair. Within moments, they formed a towering barrier of souls before her—both in number and quality, far surpassing the soldiers who opposed them, even under suppression.
At the forefront hovered a massive Spirit Jellyfish—so huge it carried a smaller one upon its back. If such a creature could still be called a Spirit Jellyfish at all.
Its power and speed alone placed it leagues beyond the enhanced monsters nearby. And beyond its raw might, it possessed deadly techniques—Venomous Burst, Soul Torrent, even Flame Breath. Whether for battle or support, it was a force to be reckoned with.
But more important than her power was what she had become.
No longer the trembling girl who once hid in Lloyd's arms, paralyzed by fear, needing comfort to face the world—she was now someone who could stand beside him when he needed her most, lending her strength without hesitation.
For Roderika, that was enough.
As for Nepheli...
She wasn't thinking about anything at all.
Not because she lacked the capacity for thought, but because, after a moment of consideration, she had concluded that with her level of intellect, it was simply wiser to let Lloyd handle the thinking.
And when it came to fighting—well, that had never been her problem.
Even in her unaltered state, the warrior woman had been one of the fiercest fighters in the Lands Between. After Lloyd's enhancements—and especially after awakening the storm within her bloodline—her strength now rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, that of the Storm King himself.
The only difference from her original fate was that, given her, shall we say, "unique" intelligence, Lloyd had never intended to make her the Castellan of Stormveil. Nor did she ever desire it.
After all, this version of Nepheli had once worked under Margit, and she knew exactly how much of a nightmare managing a fortress really was.
Even as an assistant, after Lloyd unlocked the Golden Dungeon instance, she had begged him several times—unashamedly—to let her in to fight, just so she wouldn't be stuck "serving desk duty."
Even the ever-mysterious Sir Gideon Ofnir, the All-Knowing himself, couldn't help but break character upon hearing she'd been assigned to Stormveil's administration: "You're not serious, are you? Her superiors must be miserable."
So, from beginning to end, no one—including Nepheli herself—ever considered making her a ruler.
And truthfully, she was perfectly happy with how things were.
She got to fight every day, and she could see with her own eyes how the Lands Between were improving under Lloyd's reign—strong or weak, god or mortal, everyone was finally finding their place.
That was more than enough for her.
"I remember Roderika used to be terrified of this place," Lloyd said casually. "Not just because of all the dismembered limbs, but the lingering fragments of souls..."
"That little room," Roderika said with a small smile. "It's where Nepheli and I first met."
"What do you mean, 'I can't believe I still remember something like that'? Of course I do," Lloyd replied. "I remember everything about you both—how we met, what came after... even your little quirks."
He smiled faintly. "I haven't forgotten a single thing."
With his power too restricted to serve as the main force—and the strength of his companions making any real strategy unnecessary—Lloyd simply walked with the two women, chatting idly as they made their way forward.
Before long, they reached the golden Fog Gate.
And beyond it waited their foes...
['Grafted' Godrick]
['Grafted' Godefroy]
In short, there were now two grafted monsters instead of one—and both had been significantly strengthened.
Take Godrick, for instance. In addition to his usual grafted limbs, his head had been replaced with a massive shrimp claw, glowing with azure runes of sorcery. It could not only crush its victims but also slam down with explosive magical power after charging. The previously empty hands sprouting from his back now carried makeshift ranged weapons—weak and clumsy, yes, but functional.
As for Godefroy, he had once been the overseer of Stormveil under Godrick's rule. After leading a failed assault during the First Leyndell Defense, he was captured and imprisoned—vanishing from history thereafter.
In truth, though his combat abilities were unimpressive, his gift for governance far outshone Godrick's—ranking among the best administrators of the Golden Order Dynasty. Under his leadership, even Misbegotten and Demi-humans thrived peacefully in Limgrave.
Racial tensions had been nearly erased, and it was largely thanks to that foundation that Godrick, foolish as he was, still found followers willing to serve him.
"Godrick... he's not really a bad man," Godefroy said quietly after their defeat, glancing at his counterpart and sighing.
"He just... doesn't have the talent for it."
His words weren't meant to excuse Godrick. After all, Godefroy himself had practiced grafting. But even so, many had followed him willingly—some even wishing to crown him the next Elden Lord. That alone proved that, at least in the Lands Between, grafting wasn't seen as an unforgivable sin.
As for Godrick, his obsession with grafting stemmed from Godefroy's influence.
He'd thought, If he can do it, why can't I?
But he only understood the act, not the meaning behind it. Without Godefroy's wisdom—and arriving at Stormveil with no idea how to lead—he'd thrown the castle into chaos. That included his infamous blunder of deceiving Roderika's entire group into assisting his grafting experiments.
Even then, according to Roderika, it hadn't been forced. They had been deceived, yes, but they went willingly, believing they were helping him. She alone had refused, and rather than being seized, she left the castle of her own accord.
From Roderika's perspective, her account was perfectly true.
The question was—did Godrick himself know he was lying?
The answer was no.
In truth, Godrick had only one thought from beginning to end—to prove his worth through grafting, and by doing so, reclaim his place in the Royal Capital.
Roderika's group, being exiled royalty themselves, shared the same longing to return. Their understanding of grafting was still rooted in the era of Godefroy, unaware that this noble from the Capital had strayed into dangerous territory. When their goals aligned, tragedy was inevitable.
To be fair, Godrick wasn't truly malicious by nature. He was just… pathetic—pathetic in every conceivable way, to a degree that defied imagination.
Perhaps, in a twisted way, that too was a kind of talent.
"They said they wanted to return to the Capital. I wanted to go back too. And if I bring their limbs back with me... that counts as returning together, doesn't it..."
A certain someone, reduced now to a slug-like head, muttered softly to himself.
"They all agreed to it, and I didn't throw their bodies away. When I go back, I'll bury their Spirit Ash beneath the Erdtree. That's... what they wanted, right..."
"Shut it. You've got some nerve saying that."
Godefroy smacked the head sharply, then turned toward Lloyd.
"I'll keep him under watch. As for grafting—since you've already granted permission—I'll share all my knowledge and techniques related to it. Also, if you have any other orders, please don't hesitate to give them..."
"Then keep managing Limgrave for a while longer."
Lloyd made his decision.
Though Godefroy bore the sin of rebellion against the former dynasty—what did that matter to him?
Besides, even with diluted blood, he was of the Golden Lineage, giving him rightful claim to the Capital. And with his past accomplishments, the question practically asked itself: 'Godefroy handled things well enough—why replace him?'
And so, with that matter resolved, the Stormveil Dungeon was cleared.
Huh? You're asking about the boss fight?
Well…
Let's just say Godrick was still Godrick. Though the time and place weren't exactly the same—he had gained some enhancements, and his opponent wasn't Lloyd himself—the result didn't change.
The moment they met, before he could even speak, Nepheli's storm-charged strike cleaved him cleanly, reducing him to a slug.
As for Godefroy, never much of a fighter and only marginally enhanced—barely above his original state—he lasted all of a few seconds before collapsing.
And so, Stormveil was cleared, and Limgrave came to an end.
Next stop: Liurnia of the Lakes.
Then...
"What the hell kind of setup is this?!"
After finishing Stormveil, Lloyd had assumed that, despite the dungeon's heavy restrictions and the enemies' significant buffs, with proper management of his connections and summons throughout the Lands Between, clearing it wouldn't be too hard.
He was wrong.
The moment he stepped out of Stormveil—before even setting foot in Liurnia's territory—four or five Wandering Mausoleums equipped with mana cannons unleashed a full-scale bombardment. Around them swarmed spirit entities forged through Nokron technology, supported by towering battle sorcerers.
This wasn't a fight Lloyd—or anyone else—could brute-force through. Even if he summoned an entire army, unless he called every Flying Dragon in existence for a joint assault, they'd all be blasted into dust.
...Maybe I should just skip this area and try Caelid instead.
As Lloyd studied the distant lines of magical artillery, a golden effigy flared to life on the ground before him.
[Summon Support: 'Force Field Master' Thops]
The message made Lloyd's eyes brighten.
In the real world, with Lloyd's help, Thops had not only returned to the Academy but had risen to become a founding master of his own school. However, for certain reasons—his fate being tied to Lloyd's, and his research focused on revealing and spreading the principle that "sorceries and incantations share the same origin"—neither he nor his entire school were counted among the "Golden Age of Full Splendor."
Which left Lloyd a convenient loophole.
By activating the effigy and summoning Thops, along with a few mages specializing in force-field sorcery, Lloyd gained a way to counter the enemy's magic cannon.
The issue, of course, was that these sorcerers—being traditional mages without modern magical construct enhancements—had miserable physical endurance and poor mobility.
Under the dungeon's suppression and with limited summoning duration, their practical effectiveness would be… modest, at best.
But that was fine.
Before summoning them, Lloyd had already devised a plan based on the information at hand.
And as for what that plan entailed...
"Hey, Godefroy."
Leading his group of force field sorcerers, Lloyd returned to Stormveil and found Godefroy still lecturing a certain slug-headed individual.
"You saw me getting bombarded just now, didn't you?!"
Hearing that, Godefroy initially thought Lloyd was angry about being seen in such an undignified state. He was about to deny it outright, claiming he hadn't seen anything, when Lloyd continued.
"Well, since you did see it, then help me make something."
Godefroy: "......?"
Lloyd then laid out his plan.
"Simply put, I want you to find people capable of forging large-scale equipment designed with Magical Power deflection, according to the specifications of these sorcerers."
"At the same time, I'll need your grafting techniques to create heavy units—like the 'Grafted Scion'—that can operate this machinery."
"Trolls could do the job, sure, but their intelligence is lacking, and they're nowhere near as precise or responsive as the Grafted nobles."
He paused briefly, then added, "Anyway, there's no rush. It's not great to take too long, but this dungeon doesn't have a time limit. Work at your own pace—just don't go full Godrick on me and turn the whole world against you..."
"I absolutely won't."
Godefroy responded without hesitation.
It was, after all, precisely because he couldn't stand Godrick's idiotic antics that he'd been ranting about him nonstop ever since Lloyd left. And with Lloyd gone—no need to hold back—his tirades had only gotten worse. There was no way he'd ever repeat that kind of behavior himself.
But that wasn't the full extent of Lloyd's plan.
After briefing Godefroy, Lloyd returned to the Site of Grace at the Guidance of Grace and sought out Varré. He brought him back to Stormveil, assigning him to work alongside Godefroy—combining Varré's accumulated medical knowledge from the real world with Godefroy's expertise in grafting—to further develop the concept of "sustainable grafting."
Still, both the construction of new equipment and the research into grafting technology would take time. Lloyd had no intention of waiting idly. He decided to use this window to scout Caelid.
Then...
Lloyd saw it.
Just like in Liurnia, there was a line of figures standing in formation.
But these weren't magical cannons or organized battalions.
No—before him stood an entire row of Redmane Knights, each perched atop their own horse maidens. They were trying desperately to keep straight faces, but failing miserably—many of them even covered their blushing faces in sheer embarrassment.
"......What the hell is this?"
The sight left Lloyd genuinely speechless.
This dungeon was supposed to represent the Golden Age at its peak—a serious, high-difficulty trial. But this... this was something else entirely.
[Quite simple.]
[A certain being's obsession was far too deep. Combined with this region's strong connection to you, it caused the governing Law here to warp, creating this bizarre phenomenon.]
[Incidentally, due to the distortion of the Law, the victory condition in this area isn't combat, but rather...]
In the boundless void, a weary sigh echoed.
[Horse Girls.]