The Great Serpent Slaying Team marched for several days. Along the way, they encountered several monster encampments blocking their path, but the high-level group dispatched them with ease.
The only significant trouble came from a Magma Wyrm slumbering in a pool of lava. However, after Rykard cast his self-styled Gelmir glintstone sorceries to flash-freeze the magma into igneous rock, the bloated, sluggish beast became little more than a punching bag.
"From what I know, Magma Wyrms were once people who performed Dragon Communion, right? Consuming too many dragon hearts and too much dragon flesh eventually turns them into these monsters," Raven said to Rykard.
"Weak-willed failures," Rykard remarked. "They craved the power of dragons but lacked the iron will to contain it. This is the result."
"Nevertheless, for them to have challenged a dragon in life, they must have been quite formidable," Raven noted. "To say nothing of the Ancient Dragons—even defeating a mere Drake is an impressive feat."
Rykard scoffed.
"Challenged? Those people haven't the courage! They used poisons, set traps, and stole dragon hatchlings—they stopped at nothing. There was a group in Caelid that once drugged a dragon with strong spirits, hacked off its wings, and kept it imprisoned, carving off its flesh to feast upon it endlessly. It's said they even used sorceries and drugs to force beasts to mate with it. Most of the Dragonkin and crossbreeds circulating in the black markets of the Lands Between originated from there.
"Only a powerhouse who hunts dragons head-on is worthy of harboring their power, but true Dragon Communion warriors are few and far between. These rats, no matter how much they scheme, only bring about their own ruin."
"How grim..." Raven was momentarily speechless. "Weren't they afraid the Dragon Cult knights would come for their heads?"
"You mean those under Godwyn?" Rykard sneered. "Among those knights, there may be a handful of heroes, but the rest? They crave the power of the Ancient Dragons yet lack the guts to challenge them. They huddle around the dragons, begging for power. Should an Ancient Dragon fall into a weakened state and permission be given, they would undoubtedly devour its heart without hesitation."
Nearby, a group had already carved open the Magma Wyrm's chest. They pulled out a massive heart, their faces lit with greed.
"I heard eating it raw isn't efficient. You need to use the altar at the Church of Dragon Communion for the best results."
"Hey, aren't you afraid of turning into a Magma Wyrm?"
"What's there to fear? It's just one heart. I'll be fine."
Lansse stood to the side, her brow furrowed in a deep scowl. "That Wyrm was once human. You all know that, right? And you're just... happily discussing eating the heart of your own kind?"
The group was stunned by her reaction, looking at her with confusion.
"Uh, I never really thought about it that way."
"It doesn't matter, right? It's already a Wyrm."
"Your priorities are weird."
"Look, the meat is useless. There's only one heart, and we can't split it between all of us. I say we sell it and split the coin," someone suggested. The idea gained immediate support, and Lansse's question was forgotten.
Lansse walked beside Raven, looking dejected.
"What's wrong?" Raven didn't understand her sudden shift in mood. Then it clicked. "Ah, you're a priestess of the Dragon Cult. Creatures like Magma Wyrms must be quite offensive to you."
Lansse didn't answer. It wasn't until she was about to mount her horse that she asked, "Commander, would you ever eat a dragon's heart?"
"Me? I have no interest."
"Why?"
"Aren't dragons sapient creatures? The Ancient Dragons certainly are, and while the Drakes can't speak, their intelligence isn't lower than a human's." Raven shrugged, thinking of Ranni's glintstone dragon, Adula. "The idea of eating the body parts of an intelligent being you can communicate with... it's just bizarre to me."
"So that's what you think." Lansse twirled a lock of hair around her finger. Suddenly, as if a weight had been lifted, she swung herself onto her horse. "You really are different from the others, Commander."
"That look on your face is making me nervous," Raven said, squinting at her. "I prefer you when you're being your usual scatterbrained self."
"Hey!" Lansse's serene smile vanished instantly. She flared her nostrils and gnashed her teeth. "Who are you calling scatterbrained?!"
By evening, the group finally reached the entrance to the Gelmir Hero's Grave.
An ancient, dust-covered stone structure stood solitary in the wilderness. Its surface was marred by the corrosive scars of the volcanic region's acid rain. Yet, through the weathered reliefs on its pillars, one could still catch glimpses of its former glory.
Rykard dismounted and stood before the pitch-black entrance for a long moment, his chest heaving slightly before he took a deep breath.
"Let us go inside."
Raven stepped into the deep, dark corridor. He felt no chill; instead, a faint heat, even more intense than the air outside, surged forth. He watched as Rykard reached out his hand. With a surge of magic, the surrounding braziers roared to life with brilliant flames.
"My self-taught Gelmir sorceries were derived from the ancient hexes of this mountain. Thus, I can control certain mechanisms within these tombs," Rykard said with a smile. "The quality of the lamp oil is exceptional—it hasn't spoiled even after thousands of years. It shows how much the people of that era revered this grave."
"This should be a structure from the era of the Ancient Erdtree. Back then, Queen Marika had yet to establish the Golden Order, and the aspects of the Crucible were not yet reviled as omens," Raven observed, using the knowledge he'd gained at the Academy to date the architecture.
"In the distant past, the Ancient Erdtree was intertwined with the Crucible, a time of abundance and prosperity. Yet, that glory was fleeting," Rykard said.
Raven cast a quiet glance at Rykard. The Praetor's words held a faint undertone of dissent against the Golden Order.
"As the serpent deity of Mt. Gelmir, the Great Serpent was defeated and suppressed by heroes more than once. However, the Serpent always returns from death, and each time, it grows more powerful," Rykard explained. "Legend says it is the incarnation of the world's malice. As long as its infamy remains in the hearts of men, it will never truly perish."
"The ancient heroes used the Serpent-Hunter spear to defeat it, didn't they? If we get that spear, we can send the Serpent back into its long slumber," Raven nodded. "By the way, are there still followers of the Serpent God today?"
"Followers of the Serpent... of course there are. Though I believe I've hunted down and captured most of them by now," Rykard said. "Let's see if this lift still works. Excellent, the mechanism is intact."
The lift could carry more than a dozen people at a time. Raven stepped onto the platform and descended into the dark subterranean depths with a sudden sense of weightlessness.
Within his sea of consciousness, the flames of the Rune of Death burned quietly beneath the Yellow Sign. Since the battle at the Windmill Village, the fragment of the Rune of Death had been drawing power from the slaughter. The flames of death had grown significantly.
In the past, the Gloam-Eyed Queen had wielded the Rune of Death. She led the Godskin Apostles, brandishing the Godslayer's Greatsword to hunt the gods throughout the Lands Between. It was not until she was defeated by Maliketh, the Black Blade, that the Rune of Death was taken.
His own flames of death were enough to truly kill the Serpent God. Moreover, the feat of slaying a god would surely empower the Rune of Death immensely.
The only question was: was Rykard trustworthy? Should he risk exposing the fact that he possessed a fragment of the Rune of Death?
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Elden Ring: The Unborn One's Journey Through Elden Ring(114 Chapter - Ongoing)
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