The moment he stepped into the Deeproot Depths, General Ramsden could not help but be struck by the sheer vastness of this subterranean world, despite having already received reports from his Confessors.
"We have reached an agreement with Morgott!" General Ramsden announced loudly. "Lower your guard. We are only here to investigate certain matters and have no intention of seizing the Deeproot. Where is Machno?"
"I am Machno. How many of you have come?"
"Eight hundred," Ramsden said, extending a hand. "We will camp in the wilds and maintain strict discipline. As long as you cooperate with our investigation, you have nothing to worry about."
Machno shot him a cold look, then reached out and shook his hand. "Follow me. I hope you keep your promise."
Ramsden left two Leyndell Knights to guard the entrance, while the Deeproot side also left one Omen behind. The rest of the host followed the massive tree roots down, marching in a grand procession toward the lower levels of the Deeproot Depths, soon vanishing from sight.
The three remaining at the entrance stood facing one another.
"Want some White Cured Meat?" The Omen broke the awkward silence, friendly-as-can-be as he pulled out a piece of jerky wrapped in a leaf. "It's quite tasty."
A Leyndell Knight glanced at the Omen's claws, a look of disgust flashing across his face. He huffed and ignored the offer.
The Omen knew the knight's expression wasn't friendly, even if he couldn't see it behind the helmet. He didn't take it to heart and was about to pull the meat back when the other Leyndell Knight reached out and took it.
"What kind of meat is this?" The knight removed his helmet, revealing a rather young face. He opened the leaf and took a sniff.
"Asa!" the other knight warned, his voice sounding much older.
"It's ant meat," the Omen quickly added, seeing the young man's dubious expression. "It's been treated with medicinal spirits; the flavor is excellent. Miss Tricia the Perfumer brewed the spirits herself. The ingredients are Great Dragonfly Heads and Rowa Fruit—very healthy, no side effects."
"I'm not hungry right now, I'll save it for later," the young knight, Asa, cleared his throat and rewrapped the jerky in the leaf.
"Perfumer Tricia?" the older knight asked. "She's in the Deeproot as well?"
"Yes, you know her?"
"We've met a few times," the older knight said flatly. "She treats impoverished veterans for free. Several of my old subordinates once received her grace, so I remember her."
"Miss Tricia is exactly that kind of good person," the Omen said. "I'm Tata. And you?"
"I'm Asa." The young knight looked at the older one, and seeing he had no intention of speaking, answered for him, "This is Knight Cavon."
"How long do you plan to stay stationed here?" Tata asked.
"Who knows? I hope we stay for a while." Asa tore off a small sliver of the white meat, nibbled it cautiously with his front teeth, and then promptly stuffed the whole piece into his mouth. "The scenery here isn't bad, is it? Is that your town over there? The houses are built beautifully."
"They're just ordinary wooden huts," Tata said. "You must be nobles from the Royal Capital; your homes are surely much better than ours."
"Hardly. I was born in the Woods of Plenty," Asa said, swallowing the meat. "My mother was a noble in the Capital, but she eloped with my father, and her name was struck from the family registry. To pay for my knightly training, they sold the house and everything in it—and they're still buried in debt. Every time I get my pay, I send it all home. I'm penniless."
"Ah," Tata didn't know what to say. "I hope you finish paying off the debt soon."
"Easier said than done," Asa was in a talkative mood. "I was stationed at the Altus Tunnel, spending all day supervising slave miners who looked like the walking dead. Not a soul's worth of extra income. Still, compared to those poor bastards sent to fight at Mt. Gelmir..."
"Hey!" Cavon barked sternly. "Do not leak military intelligence."
"The war at the Volcano isn't exactly a secret..." the young knight muttered. "Anyway, being transferred to the Deeproot is fantastic. It's like a vacation, and we even get combat pay."
"If you keep drifting along like this, seeking only comfort and lacking ambition, you'll never pay off your debt," Cavon said. "You have talent. If you went to the front, you'd be promoted from a low-ranking knight in no time. The Golden Order hasn't seen a new war in years; now that the Volcano campaign has started, everyone else is eager for glory, yet you're the only one shrinking back!"
"Heh, on the way here after being conscripted to the Capital, you were the one sighing non-stop. You even wrote your will while still on your horse," Asa retorted. "You're in no position to call me a coward."
"What do you know, you brat! I thought this time we were going to fight a civil war—" Knight Cavon suddenly cut himself off, huffing and falling silent.
"What did you just say? Fight what kind of war?" Asa pressed.
"A civil war. But don't worry, you won't be caught up in it." Someone spoke from the side.
"Who's there—"
The three of them jumped, their hands flying to their weapons.
"Shh—" Miquella placed a forefinger to his lips. He radiated a faint, ethereal glow, looking like an elf stepped right out of a painting.
The trio's movements instantly slowed. The two knights carefully slid their blades back into their sheaths without making a sound. Only Tata showed a flicker of struggle in his eyes.
"Is there... anything we can do for you?" Asa asked in a hushed, slurred voice.
"There will be a cave-in here shortly. Just leave this root and move a bit further away." Miquella hopped in front of them with his hands behind his back, flashing a bright smile. His golden hair tossed in the air with the movement, then drifted back down.
The three stared blankly at those strands of hair. Time seemed to slow down a thousandfold; they could see the disturbance of every single lock in the air with perfect clarity.
"Oh, and please don't tell anyone I was here, alright?"
"Of—of course!" Tata hurriedly lowered his twinblade, terrified that such a crude weapon might frighten the person before him. As if waking from a dream, the other two knights also began nodding frantically.
"Good. Now, go and enjoy your vacation. Hmm, the Sovereign's Army and the people of the Deeproot should all get along harmoniously, okay?"
With smiles beaming on their faces, the three of them walked away along the root, arms draped over each other's shoulders, physically manifesting the requirement to "get along harmoniously." Asa's neck was locked in the Omen's arm, yet he still struggled to turn his head and wave goodbye to Miquella.
Miquella smiled and waved back. Once they were far off, he leaned down, his fingertips brushing the rough surface of the root.
"Hmm, it seems the Haligtree still has its flaws. Only a few years since the grafting and it's already showing signs of being assimilated by the Erdtree. Fortunately, it's not too late..." He murmured to himself. Rolling up his sleeve, he revealed a slender, snow-white wrist and pressed a brass dagger against it.
After measuring for a moment, Miquella closed his eyes and made a sharp, forceful cut across his wrist.
"Ugh, ow, ow, ow!" Tears welled in the corners of Miquella's eyes. He glanced at his bleeding wrist, then turned his head away with a pained expression to count the seconds.
"One, two, three, four..." Miquella's counting grew faster and faster. When he reached sixty, he finally stood up and used an Urgent Heal incantation to close the wound.
"Whew, that should be enough." He stood up unsteadily, his cheeks pale from the loss of blood. His frail frame looked as though it might topple over with a single gust of wind.
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Elden Ring: The Unborn One's Journey Through Elden Ring(174 Chapter - Ongoing)
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