With the Leyndell City Watch clearing the idle onlookers, no further disturbances occurred until the carriage arrived.
"Lord Raven, I—" Mohg began to mutter.
"Why have even you started using honorifics with me?" Raven chuckled. "Get in the carriage, quickly."
Mohg remained silent, squeezing himself into the vehicle with great effort.
"Captain Leon, I appreciate your help," Raven said, nodding toward the man. "The next time I see your father, I'll be sure to mention today's events."
"You are far too kind, My Lord. This was but a trivial matter," Leon said hurriedly. "Where are you heading? We have nothing else to do, so it would be our honor to escort you."
"Very well. My thanks to you and your men."
"It's no trouble at all!" Leon turned back to his subordinates and barked, "If any of you fall behind, you can hand in your resignation tomorrow morning!"
Raven pulled the carriage door open. "Mohg, move over a bit."
"My Lord, you're coming inside too?" Mohg asked in a panic.
"Where else would I go? Sit on the roof and whistle in the wind?" Raven countered. "And stop with the honorifics. Call me Raven."
Okina had clearly mentioned the Omen's size to the manor staff, as they had sent a large-scale carriage that could just barely accommodate Mohg. However, no matter how large the carriage was, the seats were certainly not designed for an Omen, and the ceiling was far too low.
Mohg pressed himself against the carriage wall in an awkward posture, his buttocks hovering just off the seat as he tried his best to minimize the space he occupied. Raven hesitated, thinking it might be better to let Leon lend him a horse while he rode alongside the carriage, but when he looked back, Leon had already ridden far ahead to clear the path.
He sat down opposite Mohg, managed to settle his legs, and called out to the driver: "To the Royal Road, Lady Morgan's Boutique."
The carriage lurched into motion.
"Aren't—aren't we going back to the manor?" Mohg asked. His eyes darted about, unsure where to settle, eventually landing on his own feet.
"I'm going to get you a proper set of clothes first, then I'm taking you to see some important people," Raven said. "My trip to the Deeproot has likely disrupted the plans of whoever is pulling the strings. We need to make the dialogue between the Capital and the Deeproot a fait accompli before the other side can react."
"Important people?" Mohg didn't quite follow the political jargon, but he caught that specific phrase. "Is it... is it really okay for you to take me to see important people?"
"What's the problem?"
"Even the citizens detest me so much," Mohg said miserably. "Taking me to see important people will only make things difficult for you."
"Mohg, the Aspects of the Crucible are a genetic throwback to the power of the primordial life. In the era of the ancient Erdtree, they were considered sacred symbols," Raven explained. "The common citizens only believe the Omen-born carry a dangerous contagion or bring misfortune to those around them. But that minor noble from earlier knew this was related to the Crucible. The higher one goes in society, the more they know—and ironically, the less they tend to discriminate."
"Really?" A flash of joy appeared on Mohg's face, only to fade in the next second. "But if that's the case, why did Queen Marika..."
"The superstructure of society is often influenced by its base," Raven said. "The Golden Bloodline must appear untainted. The manifestation of Crucible power in the lineage would cause the purity and nobility of the divine blood to be questioned, shaking the very authority of the Golden Order. Therefore, the existence of you and Morgott must never be made public—wait, why is it getting more cramped in here?"
"I—I'm sorry!" Mohg shoved the door open, looking ready to leap from the moving carriage. "I can't hold my breath anymore! I'll... I'll get out right now!"
Only then did Raven realize that Mohg had been sucking in his gut and holding his breath since they started. Silently, Raven hauled Mohg back inside and leaned forward to pull the door shut.
"Are you a fool?" Raven said irritably. He lifted his legs and curled up on his seat, hugging his knees. "Is that better?"
"Thank you." Mohg's face turned a deep shade of red, though fortunately, it was entirely hidden by his Omen features.
Turning his head, Mohg stared intently through the small window at the back of the driver's head. The clamor of the streets outside was a chaotic blur.
In his peripheral vision, he saw the black-haired, grey-eyed youth pull back a corner of the curtain. Raven's elbow rested casually on the window frame. Perhaps the sunlight was too bright, for he held one hand up to shield his forehead. His eyelashes fluttered slightly, and his profile was bathed in brilliant light, his hair dancing in the breeze. Radiant as polished silver, Raven looked confident and composed—as if all the hardships and struggles of the mortal world were entirely alien to him.
The interior of the carriage was incredibly peaceful. Mohg suddenly found himself wishing the journey would never end.
"We're here," Raven said.
The noise of the outside world flooded back in. Mohg snapped out of his daze, a vague, inexplicable pang of sorrow rising in his heart.
"Did you fall asleep?" Raven stepped onto the ground and looked back at Mohg with a strange expression.
"I'm sorry." Mohg scrambled out of the carriage after him, nearly deforming the door frame as he squeezed through.
"Ideally, I would have a formal suit custom-made for you, but time is of the essence, so we'll have to make do with off-the-rack sets for now," Raven said. "If this shop doesn't have anything that fits you, then no other shop in the Capital will."
Outside Lady Morgan's Boutique, several haughty noble attendants were waiting for their masters. Upon seeing Mohg, they instinctively reached for their swords, but when they noticed the City Watch following the carriage, they sheathed their blades even faster and scrambled out of the way.
"Ah!" Lady Morgan, who was busy directing a maidservant to measure a noble for a fitting, looked up and saw Mohg's face. She let out a shriek and began to collapse backward.
"My Lady!" The nearby maid caught her, frantically pulling out a bottle of smelling salts and waving it under her nose.
"Gasp—I am fine!" Lady Morgan took a deep breath and stood upright once more. "Lord Raven, welcome to my humble shop. This... Omen guest is...?"
"I've brought him to pick out a few formal suits," Raven said. "Do you have any ready-made attire that would fit him?"
"Formal suits," Lady Morgan repeated. She observed Mohg with a serious, clinical gaze, looking for all the world like a paleontologist examining a fossil that could redefine an entire geological era.
"Of course I do! Even if a Finger Reader Crone walked into my shop one day, I would find something suitable for her," she proclaimed shrilly, striding toward the back storage. "Girls, why are you standing around? Quickly, take this guest's measurements!"
Two maidservants forced professional smiles, approaching step by hesitant step with measuring tapes in hand.
"Forget it," Raven said, seeing their discomfort. He waved them off. "Don't bother. I'll give you the measurements myself."
He activated his Wild Strikes sensory technique; its precision far exceeded any measuring tape. In an instant, he had calculated Mohg's shoulder width, waist circumference, and other dimensions, rattling them off to the maids.
"The cut should be several sizes larger and loose-fitting. Ideally made of heavy leather; ordinary fabric would be torn to shreds by the Aspects of the Crucible on his body," Raven said, then turned to Mohg. "In a moment, you can choose for yourself."
"I... I should choose?"
"Don't worry, any combination Lady Morgan provides will be fine," Raven said, sitting down and thanking the maid who brought him a drink. "Just pick whatever you like."
Mohg stood in the center of the shop, feeling utterly lost as his gaze swept over the displays hanging on the racks. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.
"Please, have a look at these sets," Lady Morgan said, finally emerging from the inner room. "The sizes should be a perfect fit. What style does the guest prefer?"
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Elden Ring: The Unborn One's Journey Through Elden Ring(161 Chapter - Ongoing)
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