"Quick, quick, quick!"
The boat had already been dragged into the lake. Blaidd took the lead, leaping over a dozen meters and landing steadily on the bow. He turned back and saw a trail of fire following Thorne and the others, and he could faintly hear the sound of arrows piercing the air. The Cuckoo had caught up. However, Blaidd didn't order the boat to set off. He picked up the rope on the boat and threw it like a long whip, looping it around their waists and pulling them directly over.
Ignoring the muffled groans of the others as they slammed into the boat, he immediately shouted, "Go!"
The oars moved rapidly. The archer was clearly using all his might, and Blaidd, setting aside his status as an expert, used his sword as an oar to row frantically. The boat shot away from the shore like an arrow released from a string.
About a dozen seconds later, a squad of Cuckoo Knights stepped onto the shore. Under the torchlight, there were dozens of them. But the boat was already hundreds of meters away. Besides pacing their horses back and forth in frustration, they could only stare helplessly.
"It's a good thing these bastards didn't bring bows and crossbows."
Thorne sat up straight, touching his body covered in blood. Looking behind him, the sword-and-shield soldier he had carried out had his eyes wide open with a sword mark still on his chest. He had already passed away on the way to escape. He paused, but felt no great sorrow. He leaned over to close the soldier's eyes. It wasn't that his heart was hard as iron, but that he had seen too many similar things. A pitcher is destined to break at the well, and a general is destined to die on the battlefield. No matter the world, picking up a blade means risking being killed.
But what if you don't pick up a blade? Thorne looked at the panting soldiers on the boat, including Blaidd. Everyone had not yet emerged from the tension; they were just desperately breathing in the cold air. They, like Thorne, had no choice. 'At least I found a capital to survive.'
Thorne gripped his sword, feeling the strength brought by his tensed muscles. Now, reflecting after the battle, especially after slaying two Cuckoo Knights, he found that the feeling during the initial slaughter was not an illusion. Yes, his strength had clearly increased after the brief slaughter.
There was even a familiar feeling deep in his soul. That was... Dragons Heritage? Chapter 4: Blocking someone's path to wealth is like killing their parents.
The boat drifted with the current on the lake. Except for the faint cursing coming from the shore, the boat was left with only heavy panting. Everyone was recovering their stamina, while Thorne huddled in a corner, lost in thought. Looking at the straight sword with many notches, his thoughts had drifted to that Land of Reeds. Dragons Heritage originated from the Divine Heir; it was a kind of immortal power.
Thorne had stayed in that place for several years, doing everything possible to become one of the only two people to possess Dragons Heritage. The so-called Shinobi had the Wolf, the warrior had the Sword Ghost, making a certain trash samurai jealous to the point of being unrecognizable.
Let's not talk about the past for now.
As someone who had truly experienced Dragons Heritage, Thorne was full of questions. "The essence of Dragons Heritage should be to plunder the lives of the living to resurrect the dead. So dying too much would plunge the entire Ashina into the tragedy of Dragonrot. I've never heard that it could also plunder others' power through slaughter. Otherwise, if I possessed the Ape's strength, the agility of the Nightjar, and added the Headless's spiritual power, I might have held out until the US military landed."
He scratched the side of his face.
A portion of the power from those Cuckoo Soldiers and knights had indeed flowed into his body. This was by no means an illusion, but upon closer inspection... Thinking of this, Thorne suddenly leaned over the gunwale. The lake was like a mirror; he could see the golden light flickering in his eyes.
No, people in The Lands Between aren't ordinary humans at all! In an instant, he realized the two worlds were fundamentally different. Through the blessing of the Erdtree, there exists the so-called Rune power. Intertwined with life, in a sense, it could be seen as materialized soul, and could even be used as currency. Thorne's thoughts gradually drifted away. Even back in front of the screen, there was a big difference between the two worlds. Shinobi cannot improve their own attributes, but Tarnished can use Finger Maiden to turn Runes into power. 'Am I plundering Rune power? It's equivalent to bringing my own Finger Maiden, just unable to freely allocate stats, and I can only take a portion; the difference between ordinary soldiers and knights is also large.'
Thinking of this, Thorne looked warily at the warriors on the boat. If this secret were exposed, he would likely be hunted by the entire The Lands Between. The Erdtree even wants to seal 'Death'. If there were no war, the concept of natural death would not exist for the Golden people. When the time comes, they return to the Erdtree, equivalent to a special reincarnation system.
And now there is an external force stealing Runes; this sin is indescribably heavy. Blocking someone's path to wealth is like killing their parents; that 'Greater Will' would never let it go. This mutated Dragons Heritage made his thoughts a bit chaotic. Now for Thorne, there is good news and bad news. The good news is that he brought 'Dragons Heritage' to The Lands Between. Not to mention whether he can be resurrected, just this plundered power could allow Thorne to become strong quickly. Otherwise, no matter how he trains, this body would soon reach its limit.
Even if he trained until he went bald, he wouldn't be able to overcome bloodline suppression. Blaidd alone could easily crush him. And the bad news was that this power couldn't see the light of day. At least on the side of the Erdtree, it was an unforgivable devil, an existence to be eliminated at all costs.
'But I have a blessing on me; will it be sensed by the Fingers?'
Thorne's scalp tingled, but he couldn't just off himself now. After thinking back and forth, he decided to study it slowly.
First, to understand the effect of the mutated 'Dragons Heritage', and second, there was no need to think too much. Having his head chopped off by a sword was death, and being blasted into slag by the Greater Will was also death. At least this power could help him survive the immediate crisis.
"Alright, let's go back."
Blaidd's voice came. He looked around but didn't see any enemy ships. The people who were resting quickly climbed up, grabbed the oars, and began to row north.
There weren't any big ships on this Liurnia of the Lakes. The werewolf could send any ordinary boat to swim in the lake with one sword strike. Won.
Blaidd exhaled a breath of turbid air. At the cost of one person, he'd wiped out a transport team. Thinking that the Cuckoo would go hungry tomorrow, he grinned, then turned back and stared fixedly at Thorne.
"Who exactly are you?"
"Thorne Wright."
The young man stood leaning on his sword and answered without hesitation. He felt the werewolf's gaze scanning his body inch by inch, like a sharp sword trying to pry open his skin to find something. But Thorne wasn't afraid. Possessing all the memories of the original body, he answered fluently, dealing with various tricky questions.
After a long while, Blaidd closed his mouth. As Ranni's shadow, he had long since thoroughly investigated the background of this magic apprentice. Moreover, the other party had been in the fortress, so there was no chance of being swapped. Then the question arose: why would a cowardly person change his personality so drastically? Thorne's previous combat performance hadn't been very strong, but that courage and ruthlessness were something even he had to acknowledge. No matter how much Blaidd let his imagination run wild, he couldn't imagine that this body had been replaced by another soul.
He could only ask gloomily, "Why didn't you run just now?"
"Do you wish for me to run?" Thorne answered calmly. Seeing the werewolf's mouth twitch, he laughed out loud. "Lord Blaidd, just assume I've figured it out. Having eaten so much of the Caria family's food, I really have no face to continue being a waste."
"Yeah, yeah, when I, Vira, first went to the battlefield, I couldn't even hold my sword steady. Now who doesn't say I'm a madman." The surviving sword-and-shield soldier chimed in from the side, looking like 'I understand.'
"Madman isn't a good reputation." The archer looked at his companion, who flipped him off and laughed. "In that situation, besides jumping in the lake to swim, Thorne couldn't have escaped at all. I heard War Counselor Iji say that when a person is desperate, they burst forth with amazing energy."
No one is born a warrior. These elite soldiers all came from civilians. Once they find the courage to kill, they can officially step into this Shura field. The soldiers had accepted Thorne, patting his shoulder lightly. Blaidd, however, felt something was wrong, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He could only assume this Thorne Wright was gifted and had completed a mindset transformation instantly. "Even without your help, I could have handled the three Cuckoo, but thanks anyway." Blaidd said, a little prickly, and slowly raised his palm.
"I will report the merit; let's fight for Caria together."
Should be fighting for Ranni. Thorne corrected himself in his heart, raised his hand, and shook that slightly rough palm. From now on, Thorne Wright was no longer a coward, finally stepping onto the path of a warrior. The flames had been extinguished; the stripped-naked corpses were being thrown onto the carriage. Several tall horses stood by the lake, their hooves constantly pawing at the wet soil. Several knights stared out at the lake, their expressions grim.
You know, there are only a hundred Cuckoo Knights, and three were killed tonight. The entire transport team, except for two brainless Trolls, was wiped out. AI Model: gemini-3.0-flash
"Clean up the battlefield and send out the second transport team before dawn; the supplies at the front are no longer sufficient." The knight in the center was tall and sturdy, sitting atop his horse like an iron tower. A blood-red plume trailed from the top of his helmet, and his armor was covered in scars. "Yes, Lord Matthews."
A knight took the order and departed, the hurried sound of h...
The Carian Royal Family was already trapped in a corner on the west bank, the front lines so tightly drawn that not even water could escape. However, Liurnia of the Lakes was vast, and the rats slipping through the gaps were a constant annoyance. And the Royal Family still had allies, those lowly Demi-humans and Albinaurics who never stopped attacking the patrols. The Cuckoo Knight Order had limited troops; they couldn't possibly spare enough men to protect the rear. A few stragglers could tie down dozens of times their own number. This stalemate was unfavorable, to say the least.
"I heard the Carian Royal Family is constructing defensive magic?"
He recalled something and asked in a low voice.
"Yes, an automated area-of-effect attack magic. Once completed, that manor will be impregnable."
The knight tightened his reins, controlling his restless warhorse, and whispered, "Lord Commander, perhaps we should withdraw. There's really no need to pull chestnuts out of the fire for those people at the Raya Lucaria Academy. We are fighting for our lives at the front while they shrink back in the Academy to watch the show, likely hoping for us and the Carian Royal Family to destroy each other."
"Mutual destruction? That is a given."
Matthews sneered and removed his heavy helmet, revealing slightly graying hair and a face covered in scars. That face looked as if it had been remodeled by a meat grinder, even missing a piece of the nose. His slanted eyes were full of ruthlessness. Spies had already sent word that the professors of the Raya Lucaria Academy were discussing sealing the gates.
Those god-forsaken sorcerers intended to hide inside and spectate as they slaughtered the Carian Royal Family.
"But we must fight. This is the very foundation of the Cuckoo's presence in Liurnia. Only by taking the manor and obtaining the treasures of the Carian Royal Family can we have a place to stand. However, high rewards come with high risks; those sorcerers are waiting for our corpses to cover the fields so they can stab us in the back." Matthews clenched his thick hand into a fist and gazed at the distant manor, as if countless grand strategies were hidden in his heart.
The knight didn't understand the political maneuvering of the upper echelons, nor did he know when this balance would be broken. He simply opened his mouth and said, "But that Princess of the Moon..."
"If she dares to come out, someone will naturally deal with her. This is also why the Cuckoos persist in this war." Matthews spoke as if hiding a deeper meaning. He pulled the reins, turned his horse around, and his voice drifted with the wind. "Tell those sorcerers at the Academy that the Cuckoos are about to begin a point-clearing operation and have them send reinforcements. If they continue to just watch the show—"
"—then let them fight the Carian Royal Family themselves!"
The full moon set, and the Erdtree radiated its brilliant light once more. The sky gradually brightened, and on the shallows behind the manor, dozens of Carian soldiers waited with bated breath.
The commotion from yesterday could be seen from over ten miles away. Unfortunately, the Cuckoo main camp stood in the way, and the Carian soldiers trapped in the manor could do nothing but pray in secret.
"They're here! They're here!"
Someone shouted, and everyone looked toward the lake. A small boat pierced through the ethereal mist, heading toward them. Standing at the bow was Blaidd the Half-Wolf, his greatsword and cloak cutting an imposing figure.
"Glory to Caria!"
Cheers rose one after another. This returning boat was like a shot of adrenaline for the soldiers. Since the start of the war, the Carian Royal Family had been constantly retreating, eventually shrinking into this corner. This was the first time they had taken the initiative to strike.
Regardless of the outcome, simply returning from the heart of enemy territory was a feat in itself. The small boat docked amidst the cheers. Thorne kept a low profile, sitting at the stern like a slacker.
However, the cheers stirred some memories within him. A blade stained with blood, a severed head in hand, and the sound of 'Victory' filling the ears—to be the center of attention is to be a hero.
"Taking advantage of this momentum, I shall also take a step forward." He smiled slightly and stepped onto the lakeshore with Blaidd.
Others naturally took away the fallen warriors, while the werewolf remained cold and stern, not taking the opportunity to give any morale-boosting speech.
He only spoke of how many were killed, how many supplies were burned, and that the Cuckoos would surely counterattack, and so on.
'Invisible flexing is the deadliest,' Thorne complained in his heart, but through Blaidd's words, he also understood another layer of meaning behind the night raid. Caria wanted to force the Cuckoos to attack, so they could slaughter them until the fields were covered in corpses!
Leaving aside the Shattering war outside, a complex struggle was unfolding in the region of Liurnia. On the surface, it was a conflict between the Carian Royal Family and the Raya Lucaria Academy, but the Cuckoo Knight Order, who served as the main force, was at odds with their employers. The current stalemate was most unfavorable to the Carian Royal Family. They had to find an opportunity to beat the Cuckoos to the point where they no longer had the strength to capture the manor. At that time, the cowardly Raya Lucaria Academy would choose to seal its gates and rot away.
Is a great war about to begin? Battle-hardened Thorne seemed to smell the scent of gunpowder.
Just as he was pondering his future, he felt a heavy pat on his shoulder.
"Yo, I didn't expect you to come back unscathed." Arnold approached with a beaming smile, dark circles under his eyes showing he clearly hadn't slept all night.
"Took a punch, but it's no big deal." Thorne rubbed his chest. Even though most of the force from the Cuckoo Knight's counterattack had been deflected, it still throbbed with a faint pain.
"Should we find a doctor to take a look??"
"It's fine, this little injury is nothing." Thorne thought he could fight for half a day even with a severed arm; what was a mere hairline fracture? Arnold stared at him suspiciously, his brown eyes looking more and more puzzled. He remembered that back in the village, this old friend would whine for ages just from cutting his hand. How had he suddenly become such a tough guy?
"If I didn't spend every day with you, I'd think you'd been swapped." "Look at what kind of hellhole this is." Thorne didn't answer directly, instead pointing around.
The small manor was crowded with soldiers. On the front wall, there was a breach made by a catapult last night. Several corpses covered in white cloth lay on the open ground, their friends kneeling beside them, weeping softly. Solemn and heavy, the demon named slaughter resided in everyone's heart, waiting for the moment to be released.
"Either death or madness, I choose the latter." Thorne patted his friend's shoulder and walked away with tired steps. Arnold nodded subconsciously. He too had once been a simple villager, but he had unintentionally taken several lives.
In a hellhole like this, only madmen could survive to the end. He looked at the figure in front of him and quickly chased after him.
"Hey, give me back my sword!"
...
Over the next two days, Thorne began to slowly integrate into The Lands Between. He even took the initiative to participate in two patrol missions, slaying several Cuckoo Soldiers who tried to infiltrate.
This wasn't because he had become dedicated to his job, but because he needed some 'data' to figure out the effects of his mutated version of Dragons Heritage. 'I can only seize one-fifth of the original power, and it changes depending on the strength of the enemy.'
Thorne stood on the wall, gazing at the distant main camp, his right hand stroking a borrowed straight sword. "The efficiency isn't as good as a Tarnished, but the advantage is that it can be used without a Maiden. Unfortunately, I can't see a stat panel and can only confirm based on my impressions."
The inability to follow a stat-based progression hadn't stumped him. From experience, he understood that the values were added to his physical attributes: Strength, Dexterity, and Resilience. Did that mean slaying sorcerers could increase Intelligence? He glanced at the hooded figures atop the sentry tower, but his hand stopped its motion. A man of character knows what to do and what not to do. Thorne wasn't crazy enough to strike his own people. "Attaining the path through slaughter... it quite suits my taste." If efficiency was low, then he'd stack it with quality.
At least for now, he hadn't felt a bottleneck. However, it was obvious that he couldn't just snowball using ordinary soldiers. Slaying a few thousand Cuckoos wouldn't let him go toe-to-toe with Radagon, and the completion speed would be far too fast. He still needed to play it safe, seeking out enemies gradually, or perhaps focusing on covering his weaknesses to create a quality build.