The checkpoint had been completely breached, powerless to halt Lucian's advance any longer. Before him rose a tower built upon the stone cliffs — the passageway leading directly to Stormveil's main gate.
Ballistae were mounted before the tower, guarded by over a dozen soldiers — the castle's last line of defense outside its walls.
Cutting down the soldiers in his way, Lucian forced his way into the passage toward Stormveil.
At the midway point, a Site of Grace radiated its warm light. Lucian lit the Grace.
Here, he drew out a small vial. It was a Furlcalling Finger Remedy, which revealed the signs left by other Tarnished.
Scooping some ointment from the vial, he smeared it around his eyes.
When he opened them again, a golden mark glowed upon the wall beside the Grace.
This was part of the pact between Lucian and the All-Knowing. Once Lucian reached this place, he was to touch the mark.
Sensing the touch, the All-Knowing's network would immediately stir to life. Through chain after chain of relayed messages, every infiltrator hidden within Stormveil would begin to act. The castle would be plunged into chaos the moment they moved.
And Nepheli, along with other warriors, would rally here at this Grace, preparing to join Lucian in slaying the Fell Omen.
By the time Lucian and his allies stormed Stormveil, the fortress — engulfed in chaos — would be unable to muster its full defense.
Lucian pressed his hand against the golden sign. It flickered to life.
—
Far away in the Roundtable Hold, a Tarnished felt the mark's activation. He immediately slipped into the hidden corridors, carrying the news to the All-Knowing's chambers.
The All-Knowing rose from his chair and walked to a wall of his study. "Lucian moves even faster than I anticipated," he muttered. "What an impatient fellow."
He applied the Remedy around his eyes.
At once, the wall before him bloomed with dozens of golden signs, densely covering the surface.
He touched several in succession — the signs belonging to the Tarnished he had prearranged to lead this operation.
They, in turn, would relay the message down to the next tier.
"Go," he commanded. "Let Stormveil drown in turmoil. And then, as I planned, bring back every book, scroll, and scrap of knowledge you can lay your hands on."
The vast network hidden in the Lands Between stirred to life. The All-Knowing had cultivated them for countless years, and at last, today, they would act in full.
Even he felt a flicker of anticipation — how far could they go?
When all was arranged, he sat back in his chair and resumed his study. All that remained was to await the reports.
—
Lucian leaned against the wall, waiting for Nepheli and the others to arrive.
The Crucible Knight had vanished somewhere along the passage. But there was no need for concern, with more allies gathering soon, even a Knight of the Crucible could not disrupt them.
While waiting, Lucian handed the Golden Seed he had acquired to Melina. She quickly fashioned it into a Sacred Flask.
This time, Lucian once again chose the Cerulean Flask, for he was still short on FP. Especially when he needed to conjure stormwinds to deflect projectiles and ballista bolts. The cost was slight each time — but the volleys of arrows and missiles were endless.
Before long, Nepheli emerged from the Grace. She strode forward and slapped Lucian's armor with a firm hand.
"We meet again. To fight at your side brings me joy."
Soon after, several more Tarnished emerged, among them a familiar face; the Sorcerer Rogier.
Rogier declared that once the Fell Omen was defeated and they entered Stormveil, he would part ways and pursue his own path.
Lucian counted them. Including himself and Elyssa, there were seven in total.
Nepheli's companions were formidable — each had been strengthened multiple times by the maiden. Nepheli and Rogier themselves were stronger still. Though none could compare to Lucian, they were nonetheless among the Roundtable's finest.
Lucian was satisfied. Not one would hold them back — indeed, they would aid him.
"Come. Let's move."
At his command, the band advanced.
Charging out of the cliffside passage, Lucian at last beheld Stormveil up close.
Built upon sheer cliffs, the fortress could only ever be seen from below — always looming, always towering. Thus did Stormveil display its full majesty to all who approached.
Gothic walls soared skyward, layered and encircling, their battlements adorned with golden tracery. The remnants of the storm swirled eternally above, draping the castle in a veil of mist, the Stormveil Castle.
Upon its walls flew two banners: The old, tattered eagle of Stormveil, and the newer, unblemished lion of the Golden Lineage's "Beast Regent."
Octagonal towers divided the walls, bristling with countless murder-holes, though few now were manned, for the garrison had dwindled.
At the main gate, a heavy portcullis barred all passage.
"Magnificent," Lucian breathed. In the game, Stormveil had already been awe-inspiring. In reality, it was overwhelming.
"Magnificent, it it? Very well. Let these stones be thy grave, and let thy pride lie buried with thee."
"Foul Tarnished, In search of the Elden Ring. Emboldened by the flame of ambition. Someone must extinguish thy flame. Let it be Margit the Fell!"
A low voice resounded.
The group turned toward its source.
From one of the towers stepped a tall figure, cloaked in ragged brown fur, clutching a massive staff. Gray-white fur and coarse hair covered his form, and from beneath his mane of white hair curled the horns of omen.
It was Margit the Fell Omen, the bane of countless Tarnished seeking to enter Stormveil.
Of course, "Margit" was but the false name of Morgott's projection.
Seeing the familiar face, Lucian could not help but feel a pang of emotion. Morgott and Mohg — though twins — were utterly unlike one another. Where Mohg radiated madness and cruelty, Morgott carried the air of solemnity and righteousness.
But now was not the time for reflection.
For Margit had leapt from the tower, crashing down before them.
Gripping his staff, he leveled it toward Lucian's company.
"Who among ye will be the first to die?"