"My Lord!"
Nibla quickly discovered Mohg slumped on the ground. His robes were shredded and covered in a thick layer of dust. However, despite the state of his clothes, there weren't many wounds on his body—or rather, there were none visible at all.
This was thanks to the Mimic Tear. Without its protection, one would have seen the bruises and abrasions on Mohg's true form, not to mention the internal damage caused by taking a direct swipe from that Red Bear. Other than that, he was in relatively good shape; once he had gone all out, the Red Bear hadn't been given much of a chance to retaliate.
"Are you alright?" Nibla asked anxiously as he helped Mohg to his feet.
"It's nothing serious. I simply exhausted too much power at once, so I'm looking a bit worse for wear," Mohg said, waving a hand to signal he was fine.
"Phew... then I can put my heart at ease." Nibla nodded, his gaze shifting to the carcass of the Red Bear.
Looking at the charred fur, the frost-covered flesh, and the numerous bleeding gashes covering the beast's body, Nibla could easily imagine the sheer terror of the battle that had taken place here. The killing blow was unmistakable: a massive hole that had completely tunneled through the bear's chest. The edges of the wound were marked by heavy cauterization and jagged, blood-soaked tears.
Nibla crouched down and pressed his hand against the bear's hide. Feeling the rock-hard density of its muscle, he formed a rough estimate of Mohg's current combat prowess.
As expected of one favored by a deity... he possesses both a vast array of techniques and overwhelming physical strength.
SHINK!
The sudden, violent sound of wind being sliced echoed nearby. Nibla drew his greatsword in a flash, a localized gale erupting beneath his feet. He lunged toward a dark blur that was pouncing toward the resting Mohg.
The three soldiers nearest to Mohg reacted instantly, raising their swords and shields to form a defensive perimeter around their Lord. Mohg took the opportunity to see exactly what was attacking him.
It was another Rune Bear, this one black-furred. Compared to the Red Bear, its spiritual energy was significantly weaker, and its physical size was a notch smaller. Mohg relaxed slightly. He had feared a second Red Bear; while Nibla might have been able to handle it, the shockwaves of such a fight would have likely wiped out the escorting soldiers.
ROAR!
Realizing its ambush had failed, the black bear stopped hiding and let out a deafening roar. Unlike the Red Bear's primal cry, this one carried a peculiar energy wave that rattled the minds of those present. Nibla's brow furrowed, while the other three soldiers looked pained, their stances wavering.
Simultaneously, the bear charged forward like a heavy chariot, aiming straight for Nibla.
Storm Barrier!
BOOM—!
As Nibla slammed his foot down, an endless gale erupted, creating a powerful wall of pressure that ground the bear's momentum to a halt. In truth, this skill was designed for battlefield defense against arrows and projectiles—especially the devastating fire pots used in the Lands Between. But in Nibla's hands, it was a versatile tool for stopping any charging foe.
In the next heartbeat, crimson flames began to swirl within the gale, coating Nibla's greatsword. With a massive horizontal swing, a blood-red storm of slashes flew toward the stunned bear.
"RAWR!"
At the last second, the bear twisted its body. While it avoided a fatal blow to the head, the price was a massive chunk of flesh being sheared off its right shoulder. Cursed blood seeped into the open wound like a corrosive parasite, churning within the beast's body and causing it agonizing pain.
CRASH!
The agony only fueled the bear's primal savagery. It slammed its massive paws into the earth, sending a powerful shockwave radiating outward.
Seeing the attack about to hit the soldiers, Mohg—who had recovered some strength—suddenly spread his wings. He manifested a Crucible Claw beneath his right arm and grabbed two of the soldiers, lifting them into the air. The third soldier scrambled out of range.
The three men looked down, their faces flushed with shame. They were supposed to be the Lord's protectors, yet here was the Lord saving them.
Seeing this, Nibla's eyes burned with fury.
SHINK!
He drew a second greatsword from his waist. Both blades were instantly enveloped in blood-red winds. He became a blur, raining down a relentless barrage of slashes on the bear. His speed increased with every strike, his strength and momentum converging into a terrifying crimson cyclone that completely swallowed the bear's silhouette.
"ARGH-ROO!"
From the air, Mohg watched the display with silent admiration. After receiving the blood blessing, Nibla's bloodflame-infused storm arts had clearly reached a new level.
Thankfully, this powerhouse is on my side.
Before long, the bear's cries faded. The mini-hurricane created by Nibla dissipated, leaving behind a mangled heap of flesh and bone that was barely recognizable as a bear.
Nibla let out a long breath and sheathed his twin blades. Mohg glided back to the ground, landing beside him. The moment he landed, Nibla dropped to one knee.
"I have failed to protect you properly, my Lord. I beg for your punishment!"
The other three soldiers followed suit, kneeling in deep shame. Mohg was momentarily taken aback, but he quickly understood their mindset. Knights lived and died for the protection of their sovereign; to them, his personal involvement in the fight was a failure on their part.
"Rise. I will not blame you this time—but let there be no next time."
"By your command!" Nibla bowed his head before standing.
"The two strongest beasts in this forest have been cleared. I'll leave the rest to you," Mohg said, looking over at the two carcasses.
"Understood. I will make the arrangements immediately."
"Good."
Mohg walked toward the remains of the bears. Their blood and flesh were valuable treasures for his growth. Between the spiritual training methods of the wild and the sacrificial rites of the Formless Mother, he was eager to see how much more powerful he would become.
Hmm... No matter how many times it happens, the rush of growing power is always intoxicating.
Mohg clenched his fist, feeling the surge in both his physical strength and spiritual energy. He could feel it—he was now capable of performing his signature technique.
The Bloodboon Ritual!
He was almost ready to give the world its first "countdown."
Shaking his head to clear it, Mohg rose from the blood pool. As he stood, the pool contracted and vanished into the ground. This was a "perk" granted by the Formless Mother; only he could maintain such close contact with her during a sacrifice, allowing him to absorb her blessings to the maximum extent.
I remember this place being near an entrance to the Land of Shadow...
Mohg squinted as he scanned the area, but he found no anomalies—not even a ripple of energy. It was possible that Miquella was the literal key to opening that path, which would explain why he couldn't sense anything yet. Alternatively, he might simply not be strong enough to perceive the "cracks" leading to the Land of Shadow.
After all, there were larger, more prominent rifts elsewhere—like the site on the Altus Plateau where Messmer's crusade had begun. Once that crusade ended, those rifts would be sealed away.
Mohg turned his gaze toward the cliffs. Below, his soldiers were busy clearing the forest. A large area had already been leveled, and tents were being erected for a base of operations. Nibla was leading squads to hunt down the remaining predators. The dangerous ones were being systematically culled and offered as blood sacrifices, with every part of the beast being recycled. Pelts were being tanned, and meat was being dried or cooked into stews.
Speaking of food... eight hundred men isn't a small number. Their consumption won't be negligible. I need to find a sustainable source of supplies.
Mohg rested his chin on his hand. The easiest way would be to scatter the eight hundred men across the Lands Between to fend for themselves, but that would defeat the purpose of building a disciplined army. He needed them together.
If the Great Caravan hadn't been buried alive, he might have traded with the nomadic merchants. Unfortunately, most of them had already been "sealed" underground. The few survivors were scattered and could no longer form a large-scale supply chain.
"The wealthiest regions in the Lands Between are Altus and Caelid... Altus is out of the question for now, which leaves Caelid. Yes, Caelid!"
Mohg nodded. Caelid was directly above them. Accessing it wouldn't be difficult; they just had to use the lifts. The real issue was transport. Carrying that much grain by hand through the underground was a nightmare.
Lansseax would never agree to play pack mule... unless... unless he caught a Flying Dragon to do it.
Wait. Catch a dragon?
Mohg's eyes lit up. he looked down at the cliffside where Lansseax was currently dozing off and shouted.
"Get up here, Lansseax!"
"Huh?" Lansseax, half-asleep, was startled. Once she realized it was Mohg, she flew up to him with a face full of annoyance. "It's boring enough down here as it is, and now you're interrupting my nap? You'd better have a damn good reason!"
Mohg gave a sheepish smile. "Ahem. We have a lot of mouths to feed. I've decided that Caelid, right above us, is the best place to get supplies. But we need a way to transport all that grain. So..."
"You want me to carry grain?! In your dreams!!" Lansseax looked ready to fight him.
"Hold on! Let me finish! I'd never ask our strongest warrior to do that. That would be a waste, right?"
Lansseax looked at him suspiciously, her eyes full of distrust. "Then why did you wake me up? To pick a fight?"
"Ahem. No. I woke you up so we could go catch a Flying Dragon to use as a transport beast and mount."
Lansseax's eyes instantly lit up. Mohg could swear he had never seen her look so excited. (Granted, they hadn't known each other very long).
"Quick, quick! When do we start?" she urged.
"You're that eager?" Mohg asked, surprised. He knew Ancient Dragons and Drakes had a blood feud, but he hadn't expected her to be this enthusiastic.
"Hey, killing a Drake is a bit boring, though I'll do it. But capturing one to use as a slave? Hehehoho..."
The sound of her laugh gave Mohg goosebumps. He rubbed his arms and said, "Let me settle things with Nibla first, then we'll head up the magic well to scout things out."
"Great! You go talk to him. I'm heading to the well now. The moment you get there, we're going up!"
Without another word, Lansseax spread her wings and raced toward the magic well. Mohg shook his head and descended toward Nibla.
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Elden Ring: As the Consort, I Reject Miquella (459 Chapters – Full)
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