"It seems I've forgotten about Lady Ranni lately." "I caused trouble for Godrick for Sellen's sake and even picked up a piece of wood along the way. What would happen if she found out?" Throne glanced at Melina, who wore an 'I don't believe you' expression, and calmly shook his head. "No, no, Lady Ranni is full of majesty and deep understanding. I am fighting hard for the future of Caria.
If I kill Godrick, I can open up the southern transport route. Her Highness will certainly understand." Thinking of Ranni and Sellen, he suddenly added, "Oh, right, I owe you a favor." Melina was a bit confused, but then she remembered it was about the Erdtree incantations.
Over the past two days, she had taken the time to slowly and carefully use several different incantations, and Throne, by observing closely and slowly simulating them, had already begun to grasp the hang of it. Incantations are completely different from sorcery; theory is useless. One must have genuine faith in a certain deity. However, Throne had found another way.
Ten years ago, while listening to a priest preach in the church, he had developed a learning method. Simulating energy fluctuations to replicate the incantations. This requires a high level of faith, but fortunately, Throne had recently slaughtered a wave of faith-based enemies, so this wasn't difficult for him.
What was difficult was having someone repeatedly cast the same incantation so he could become familiar with the frequency. "Your aptitude is extremely high. I never expected anyone to be able to manifest divine miracles through simulation." "Not at all. It's because you are very patient, willing to expend your focus, and repeat it tirelessly.
I am a person who respects teachers, so I will definitely remember this favor." Throne waved his hand, then suddenly thought of something. "By the way, how did you learn incantations?" Melina thought for a long while before replying, "It's an instinct, just like eating or sleeping."... What a humblebrag. Throne rolled his eyes, applauding the wood's invisible showing off.
Indeed, people cannot be compared to one another; it really was difficult for him to acquire these skills. Thinking any further would just make him explode with anger, so he decisively cast the matter aside and whistled. Whew—
Azure spirit particles emerged, and a Spirit Steed suddenly appeared beside him.
Torrent snorted and rubbed its head gently against Throne, as if asking why he hadn't ridden it for so long. "Sorry, once I've finished handling things in Limgrave, I'll definitely ride you often in the future." Throne said something strange, stroking the soft mane, finding the Spirit Steed unusually gentle. Could it be a mare? Could it be different from the one Tarnished has?
He turned his head to look and saw Melina staring at him with a frown. Why do I feel like I've become a cuckold? Throne felt a strange sensation, so he simply mounted the horse and reached out a hand to Melina below. Seeing that she didn't want to pay him any mind, he smiled and said, "Don't turn into spirit form. I'll help you analyze things on the way; this will help improve your IQ."
Who wants to improve their IQ! Melina bit her lip but still took Throne's hand. Once she was seated on the horse's back, she realized she had fallen for his trick again. Isn't spirit form and communicating via mental energy the same thing? The young girl was in spirit form, not ghost form; she still had weight and tactile sensation.
Throne felt the soft body behind him but didn't think too much of it; he just felt that talking to himself was strange. "Let's go, Torrent!" With a neigh, the Spirit Steed shot off like an arrow. Throne wasn't entirely lying; he did his best to help Melina improve her IQ. As he said, Limgrave was indeed chaotic.
On the surface, Godrick's noble faction clashed with Vyke's Tarnished rebels. Beneath that, the Mohgwyn Dynasty, Morgott, and the Roundtable Hold all got dragged into the fray. They were enemies, allies, pawns moved by the Greater Will's hand—except on the opposite side of the board sat one insignificant 'Tarnished'.
Throne couldn't match the Greater Will's power, but inside the game, he could twist the rules.
To Godrick, he was a Tarnished turncoat, a useful worm. To Vyke, a shadowy Roundtable envoy smoothing his path. For the Mohgwyn Dynasty, a Recusant, a possible collaborator. Melina's head spun just listening.
She lifted her face into the biting wind. "So you've got three factions trusting you right now?" Three masks. Three roles. Three sides. The man who should've been everyone's enemy had slipped into their ranks. Even after witnessing every step, Melina still couldn't grasp how he'd done it. Like water seeping through cracks.
No grand design—just razor reflexes, lunging at every opening like a starved hound. That speed... Something about it made her chest ache. She pressed her forehead against Throne's back. "You still haven't explained how we push Godrick."
"Oleg's life. We're here."
Throne guided the spectral mount up a rise and tugged the reins. Torrent halted mid-step, then swung its head around. He took the chance to stuff a handful of Rowa fruit into its mouth. The steed nuzzled his palm, whickering. "Good boy." Throne scratched behind its ears, grinning.
What warrior wouldn't love a battle-ready steed that spoke mind-to-mind? Melina pointedly ignored them, peering past Throne's shoulder. A narrow river glinted ahead, flanked by a lone structure. The building hooked her attention instantly.
"Marika's Church?"
"Mm. We wait here."
Throne dismounted, reaching up out of habit—but Melina had already slipped down the far side. He shrugged and recalled Torrent in a swirl of mist.
"Why this place?" She scanned the surroundings. Smoke curled from cottages near the church, yet no movement stirred. "Godrick's men have gall, attacking holy ground."
"Could've been Tarnished. War breeds scavengers—no one's investigating corpses now." Throne didn't answer her real question. He paced through the wreckage, boots crunching on bone fragments. Nothing new. A decade ago taught him religion's so-called sanctity. Chaos rewrote all rules. Might made right. Faith? A footnote.
The church door groaned as he shoved it wide. His gaze traveled up the vaulted ceiling, then down the nave, and he snorted. The Lands Between still built temples like fortresses. Ten-meter domes. Stained glass fractures painting the floor in shattered light.
Looters had stripped anything valuable. Only splintered pews remained, and the statue facing the entrance—a long-haired woman with open arms, frozen mid-embrace.
Her head bowed low, obscuring her face, but her presence radiated an undeniable beauty. Queen Marika the Eternal. The God of The Lands Between. The one who shattered the Elden Ring and committed an unforgivable sin. She was the genesis and the terminus of all things.
"Daring to scheme against the Two Fingers and the Greater Will... You truly have courage."
His voice dripped with disdain.
"But a woman's heart is the deadliest poison. How many lives did you sacrifice to achieve your goal?"
Throne stood before the statue, his gaze sharp, devoid of reverence. The sound of faint footsteps approached from behind. Without turning, he extended a hand. "Whatever you have to say, save it for later."
Melina froze, her cheeks flushing crimson. She had been preparing herself, ready to recite Marika's words, but now she could only stand there, stunned, watching Throne move about the church with purpose.
He gripped an iron hammer and began smashing the floorboards one by one. He had an edge over other scavengers: he knew exactly what he was looking for. Early days meant it wasn't always a sure bet, but the Third Church of Marika's decrepit state suggested no Tarnished had stumbled upon it yet. If they could find it, it meant others hadn't searched thoroughly enough.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The hammer fell relentlessly, dismantling the floor piece by piece. Near the back of the church, Throne paused. A faint golden glimmer peeked through the cracks. Likely hidden in haste by a priest during the looting. Who would've thought to look here before the floor decayed?
He dropped the hammer, reached into the crevice, and fumbled around. His fingers closed around something slender and cold.
Found it.
He pulled it out and examined it carefully—a slender golden flask with an exquisite long rod inserted into its mouth. Empty, but unmistakable.
Melina leaned in, her eyes widening in surprise.
"The Flask of Wondrous Physick. A rare treasure, even among the Erdtree priests. How did you know it was here?"
"A decent Tarnished leaves no stone unturned. Now, how do I use it?"
"It requires an alchemist to mix it with Crystal Tears. Drinking it produces miraculous effects. Coincidentally, I know a thing or two about that."
"Then it's yours."
Throne tossed the flask to her, followed by a crimson Crystal Tear he'd picked up at the Minor Erdtree. Melina didn't move, her expression unreadable. He raised an eyebrow.
"Problem? Does it need two Crystal Tears?"
"One is fine. The effect will just be weaker."
She cleared her throat softly, glancing at him.
"But when asking for help, shouldn't you show some courtesy?"
"Do we really need formalities between us?"
Melina nodded solemnly.
"Yes, we do."
Throne rolled his eyes but complied, offering a mock bow.
"Then I'll leave it to you."
Melina began her work, though something felt off. Why did she feel so smug? As if she'd finally proven her worth?
Throne ignored her internal conflict. He smashed the dilapidated pews into a pile and lit a bonfire at the foot of Marika's statue. The flames chased away the chill as he sat cross-legged, staring up at the figure.
Even as stone, Marika exuded an ethereal beauty, as if every grace in the world had been poured into her form.
"No wonder she ensnared Godfrey and Rennala. Though this whole operation leaves a bitter taste."
Thinking that this perfect goddess would turn into a red-haired muscle man, Throne immediately looked away, no longer bothering to feign interest.
The golden flask appeared inches from his face just as he was about to spit. "It's ready. This Crystal Tear will enhance your vitality." Throne took it, gave it a shake. The liquid inside clinked softly against the glass. "Why's there only enough for one sip?"
"The flask is only so big. How many sips were you expecting?"
Melina glared at him, her patience thinning. "Crystal Tears can last a long time, but you can only stack two at most. If you want to change the effect, you have to remove them."
So that's how it worked. Chug it all now, and he'd have to wait for it to brew again. No matter—he'd just kill a few Erdtree priests later and take their flasks.
His gaze shifted to Melina. She sat across from him, her expression blank as she stared into the bonfire. "When we were in the church, didn't you want to say something? Go ahead."
Melina blinked, suddenly remembering her task. She was supposed to recite the incantations.
But then she looked at Throne—slouched, arrogant, utterly disinterested. Her lips pursed. The solemn ritual she'd been preparing dissolved. What guidance could she possibly offer in this state?
"Are you going to say it or not? If not, I'm going to sleep."
"Wait. I'll say it." Her voice trembled slightly, a flicker of frustration burning in her chest.
She hesitated. Asking him if he wanted to listen felt too risky. What if he said no? The thought alone made her want to smash her head into the wall.
The goddess's words deserved reverence, not this disjointed storytelling. Throne's interruption had shattered the gravity she'd tried to build. Still, as a professional, she adjusted quickly. She tilted her head, her gaze drifting into the distance.
"My Lord, and warriors of the Lord, I shall take away your grace. When your eyes dim and fade, I shall banish you from The Lands Between—" "Wait, is this about the Tarnished? That Lord—Godfrey, right?" Throne cut in again. Melina's eyes blazed with fury. He raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Go on, go on."
She'd nearly exploded. It took her a moment to find her place again. "Wage war, live, and die beyond The Lands Between." She fell silent, her gaze sharp as she watched Throne spread his hands.
"Done?"
"Yes. This ends the recitation of wisdom at the Third Church of Marika. If you want more, visit the other churches."
"Riddle-makers all deserve to die!" Even though he'd expected this, Throne cursed under his breath.