Raven's legs were braced firmly against the base of the doll. His fingers dug deep into the steel plating of its open midsection, his grip so powerful it left indentations in the metal as he forced the plates apart, refusing to let them snap shut. In this brutal contest of strength, the metal groaned and warped, the steel plates inching outward under his raw effort.
But his situation was far from ideal. The ghastly, blue-black hands protruding from the doll's belly were clamped tightly around Raven's throat with terrifying strength. Raven gritted his teeth, feeling as though his windpipe was on the verge of being crushed. He kicked out, trying to keep his footing against the doll's base, yet he was still being slowly dragged toward the grinding blades within.
"Let him go!"
A flash of sword light pierced through the backs of the monstrous hands, pinning them together. Lansang lunged forward, channeling a surge of crimson Dragonbolt directly into the doll's hollow abdomen.
Howling in mechanical agony, the hands released Raven. The entire doll shuddered violently under the onslaught of the Dragonbolt, sparks erupting from its joints.
Raven caught his breath and let out a fierce roar. With a massive burst of strength, he physically tore the two steel plates from the doll's body. Launching himself off the base, he vaulted four or five meters into the air. Mid-flight, he drew his staff, and a blade of brilliant blue glintstone magic surged from its tip, impaling the doll through the neck joint.
Using the magic sword as a pivot, Raven flipped over the doll's head. He clamped his legs around its metallic skull in a kneeling vice-grip and twisted his entire body with explosive force.
Following a screeching, teeth-gritting sound of grinding metal, Raven dropped back to the ground. The deformed head slammed heavily into the dirt at his feet—he had quite literally ripped it from the torso.
The red glow in the doll's eyes gradually faded. The gears inside its chest gave a final, rhythmic clack-clack before falling silent, and the two monstrous hands protruding from its belly slumped lifelessly.
Raven rubbed his neck, where dark purple bruises were clearly visible. They didn't fade until Lansang cast a quick Urgent Heal on him.
"I grew careless," Raven admitted. "I didn't expect this doll to be powered by consumed flesh and driven by vengeful spirits. No wonder it seemed so intelligent. Hey, Lansang, you—"
Lansang kicked him hard, his eyes rimmed with red. Without a word, he walked over to the doll and pulled his Misericorde dagger from the pinned hands.
"Sorry for making you worry," Raven said, scratching his head.
He really had nearly reached his limit just now. In those final moments, he had been prepared to draw upon the power of the Rune of Death, hoping to incinerate the spirits within the doll with Ghostflame. However, it was his first time attempting to use that power in actual combat, and his lack of proficiency meant he might have lost a layer of skin before the flames even manifested.
"That sword strike and the Dragonbolt really saved me."
"Don't ever play the hero like that again," Lansang said, his voice muffled by a slight sniffle. "I don't need you to protect me that way."
"Well, I didn't know you were this strong before," Raven said, spreading his hands. "You never told me you could use a move as powerful as Dragonbolt."
"That's because..." Lansang paused. "Aren't you curious about how I know how to use it?"
"I am, actually. Ancient Dragons only share their Dragonbolt with those they trust most. A priest of the Dragon Communion who hasn't even officially taken up their post shouldn't, by all rights, be so favored by Fortissax," Raven nodded.
As far as Raven knew, the only Ancient Dragon still in existence was Fortissax, and the only person he had shared the power of Dragonbolt with was Godwyn the Golden. While the Draconic Tree Sentinel Hector's attacks were imbued with lightning, that was because he wielded the Great Dragonclaw—a weapon that retained the lingering power of a fallen Ancient Dragon. It wasn't a power Hector himself truly controlled.
"Exactly," Lansang said. "Don't you wonder why someone who can use Dragonbolt was captured by those frenzied flame cultists?"
"Why should I? Should I doubt that our meeting was a sham? Should I suspect you were captured on purpose just to gain my trust, and that everything has been orchestrated?"
Lansang remained silent.
"I don't believe in destiny. But if someone did arrange all this, then perhaps that is fate. You were destined to be a member of my party, and no one can tear us apart." Raven laughed. "The person standing in front of me right now isn't a phantom."
He reached out and ruffled Lansang's hair before turning to continue their trek. "The Communication Glintstone is heating up. We're close to the end."
The presence of an Abductor Virgin doll in this corridor was clearly intentional—it was guarding a critical area of the prison. Raven walked to the spot where the doll had been dormant and looked at the locked iron door to his left.
"Rudy might be inside. Can you smell the Albinauric Bloodclots?" Raven asked.
"I can smell them, but they don't lead through that door." Lansang shook his head and pointed toward the passage the doll had been guarding. "The scent is coming from over there."
Raven glanced down the dark, deep tunnel, then touched his staff to the lock of the door. A pillar of crystal seeped into the keyhole, shifting its shape to match the internal mechanism.
A moment later, Raven twisted the crystal. With a click, the lock opened.
He pushed the door open, but it wasn't a cell block. Instead, it was filled with rows of storage lockers.
Raven held up the Communication Glintstone, closing his eyes to sense the resonance for a moment before walking over to a specific cabinet and pulling open a drawer.
"These are all Rudy's things," Lansang whispered, his eyes widening.
There was a belt hung with over a dozen Cracked Pots, a pouch filled with various greases, and several other tools. The shattered pieces of a Communication Glintstone were among them.
"These are useful tools." Raven thought for a moment before grabbing a few and stuffing them into his pack. "I'll take what I can to Rudy. If he can regain his fighting capacity, it'll be for the best."
He pulled open a few more drawers to inspect the contents. They appeared to be the belongings of other prisoners, confiscated and stored here temporarily. Raven had little interest in them and didn't plan to linger.
"Let's go."
Closing the door behind them, Raven and Lansang entered the passage guarded by the doll.
Unlike the corridor outside, this tunnel showed no signs of being man-made. It was more like a natural cavern, the ground uneven and sloping steeply downward.
The two made their way through carefully. Raven used his staff like a trekking pole, sliding down a steep slope before turning to offer a hand to Lansang as he followed.
"The terrain here is complex. I've seen several forks in the path already; I'm not sure if they're dead ends."
"Rudy is definitely in this direction," Lansang said, sidestepping a stalagmite. "Are you worried we'll get lost?"
"Not really. I remember the path we took," Raven said. "It's just that this place doesn't seem suitable for holding prisoners. I wonder why they brought Rudy here."
"This likely leads to a ritual site for the serpent worshippers—probably a place for sacrifices," Lansang said. "The murals on the cave walls are all about that. They look... painful."
"Murals?" Raven blinked. The extra-sensory perception of the Blind Spot skill didn't perceive color, and he hadn't noticed any paintings in the darkness.
At Lansang's mention, he cast Starlight to provide some illumination and began to examine the images on the walls.
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Elden Ring: The Unborn One's Journey Through Elden Ring(135 Chapter - Ongoing)
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