"You?" Throne hadn't expected Melina to drag herself into the conversation. He paused, then let a sly smile slip. "Tsk, are you jealous?"
"What's 'jealousy'? Is it something you can eat?" Melina blinked, her face all innocence.
"It's when you feel unhappy seeing me do things for other women."
"Oh."
Melina nodded solemnly, then tilted her head. "Not at all."
Damn it! Throne nearly choked. Was she some kind of clown Marika sent to cure his low blood pressure? Fine. He'd overestimated her. Steadying himself, he asked calmly, "Then why did you ask?"
"Because what you're doing goes far beyond the contract between a knight and their sovereign. It's incomprehensible." Melina frowned, clearly troubled. Why risk your life for a job that pays pennies? Even loyalty has its price.
Throne's actions had nothing to do with his mission. Why did she always pick at these things? He sighed but admitted his relationship with Ranni had long ceased to be a simple contract. Wouldn't it be easier to just follow Radahn and survive safely?
It wasn't something you could explain with a phrase like "don't forget your roots." Melina had been more proactive lately, investing heavily, and he'd given her the impression he was reliable.
"Affection and duty go beyond contracts. You know I've got a bit of an odd temper."
"I can tell. Sometimes you're coldly rational, sometimes wildly reckless."
Melina repeated his words silently. Some things she couldn't understand suddenly clicked. If he'd racked his brains for the Lunar Princess, and if he treated me the same way, wouldn't it be easier to complete the mission with her? But what were affection and duty? The wood block was troubled.
Throne saw her thoughts clearly. He opened his mouth to explain, then shut it. On one hand, he'd sound like a creepy uncle coaxing a child. On the other, given Melina's emotional intelligence, he'd probably bash his head against a wall.
Melina the wood block was fixated on contracts and transactions. Better to take a roundabout approach.
"I already owe you a favor. In a sense, we're a community of shared interests. There's no favoring one over the other."
"Is a favor important to you?" "Yes. I'm stubborn. Do you know why I intervened in the battle between Radahn and Malenia?" Melina rarely heard Throne talk about the past. She leaned in. "Why?" "Interests, justice, favors—only when these three align can you move forward without hesitation."
So that's it. This might be an opportunity.
Melina's mind raced. The previous deal was just to take her to Leyndell. What came after was the main event. Plus, he'd claimed to know her mission, which always nagged at her.
She averted her gaze, replying seriously, "Okay. I'll join you in this battle."
"Are you sure? Destined Death is dangerous."
"Except for you, I might wait forever to find the right partner. You've already given me many surprises." It wasn't just heavy investment. It was all-in. The logic was simple: turn a short-term contract into a long-term one. They'd been traveling together for over a month.
It wasn't love born of time, but it was a friendship forged in blood and fire. Throne didn't need to explain himself; Melina had already seen through him. She knew he was important. You're finally getting it, he thought. Life isn't just a transaction. Throne smiled.
Forcing Melina to act wasn't hard, but peace of mind mattered more. Maybe a sliver of jealousy toward Ranni pushed her to take this step. At a crossroads, sometimes a breath of air is enough. "Seems we're reaching a new contract," he said. "But I'll add a few conditions." His eyes rolled, a plan forming.
Melina gritted her teeth. This guy doesn't need gratitude, but why so many demands? "Speak." "You need my approval to join battles. I lead the fights." "Fine." She nodded. When it came to combat, she couldn't keep up even on horseback.
"In daily life, you listen to me. No talking back, no complaining, no endless questions—"
"Wait, that's too much." "If we're fighting side by side, we need understanding. That starts in daily life. In Limgrave, you tried to act twice, and I stopped you both times."
Melina tilted her head, recalling their encounters with Oleg and Godrick. It had seemed strange then, but now it made sense. She extended her hand. "Happy to cooperate."
Throne gripped it firmly. Smooth. He wasn't deceiving her. Why does this feel like a binding contract? Her thoughts tangled. Something felt off. The terms were too many.
With this, the plan took its third step. Throne sighed. Call it repaying a favor. If Melina still chose to become kindling, he'd respect her choice. But if there was even a flicker of hesitation—
Burning an Erdtree? He had plenty of ways to handle that.
Melina didn't know he was already thinking of her future. After deciding, she focused on the immediate battle. "The Baleful Shadow isn't weak. It wields Destined Death. How do you plan to fight it?" This fight was tougher than Godrick.
At least the meat-shield tactic wouldn't work here. One graze from that sword meant death. She'd observed it before. In raw strength, they were evenly matched. The problem was the greatsword.
"No matter. This time, it's a defensive fight. I've got tricks. I know what he wants."
"What does he want?"
"I said no questions. You'll see when it's time."
Melina clenched her teeth. She'd agreed, so she'd follow through. But she huffed and dissolved into particles. Heh. If you don't polish the wood, how will it catch fire? Only by becoming a person, not a puppet, could she see her mission clearly.
Learn to be selfish. Learn to think for herself. Not just a tool, sacrificing everything for a mission handed down by others.
He turned as the Night Maiden rushed in, searching frantically.
"Lady Annelina, what are you looking for?"
"I sensed a foul presence."
The situation was urgent. The Night Maiden spoke hurriedly. "The Tarnished are advancing again!"
Throne strode out of the room, stepping into the outer corridor. The mist had lifted. Visibility was clear. Magic flashed in the distance.
A Cannon of Haima streaked through the air, arcing over the shattered wall before plunging into the pool below. The Dragonkin Soldier guarding outside bellowed, its roar shaking the air. It smashed the stone wall flat with a thunderous crash and surged forward, but the attackers had already retreated into the cave.
The Dragonkin Soldier lunged, clawing at the cave entrance to crush the intruders. Before it could strike, a barrage of Comet Azur slammed into its body, tearing through scales and flesh. Throne clenched his teeth. A doorway ambush. Clever.
He watched as the Dragonkin Soldier roared in frustration, retreating back into the city. The attackers emerged again, firing spells and greatbows from a distance, forcing the beast to retreat to Nokstella's first level. They'd abandoned the pool entirely. Throne shook his head. Despicable. They'd figured it out—the Nox were few in number and weak at ranged combat.
The Dragonkin Soldier's ice lightning was devastating, but it couldn't stand against dozens of powerful mages. And those Tarnished with their greatshields weren't just for show. The Nox, buried underground for too long, had forgotten how to wage war. Throne grimaced. War evolves. Always.
The Erdtree had been waging war for centuries. It had perfected its tactics. "I'm preparing a counter-charge to drive them out of the cave for good," Annelina said, her voice bitter. "It'll cost lives." "War demands death. We've got nowhere left to retreat."
"Even if we sacrifice the Dragonkin Soldier and turn Nokstella into a meat grinder, it'll be worth it." She looked calm, almost serene, but her words were ice-cold. Throne studied her with newfound respect. A hawk among the Nox. She had guts. "Don't worry. The Tarnished won't storm the city if it means heavy casualties."
"They're just baiting your forces outside to create an opening for that shadow." Annelina's body stiffened. She'd realized it too. The Tarnished weren't the real threat. That Baleful Shadow was the problem. Once it targeted you, it could kill dozens before vanishing. Nokstella didn't have enough soldiers to spare.
A blade hidden in the dark was the most terrifying weapon. Just as panic began to take hold, Throne placed a hand on her shoulder. "Leave it to me. Focus on holding off the Tarnished." "You can't block a sneak attack," Annelina said, shaking her head. This Carian Knight didn't know shadow clones, after all.
"True," Throne admitted. "But I've got a plan. I need your full cooperation." "What do you need?" Annelina had no choice but to agree. "Give me what I need, and then—" Throne gestured toward the highest hall, the heart of Nokstella, where the legendary treasure was kept. "Let me wait for it there."
...
The faint blue glow of candles cast weak light across the hall. The distant echo of magical explosions mingled with the shimmering azure particles drifting through the air, mimicking stars. A Banished Knight knelt in the center of the great hall, calm and unmoving. Throne stood nearby, clad in heavy armor borrowed from Godrick's armory. The sight of it stirred something primal in him, a mix of dread and exhilaration.
The pitch-black hall was filled with high-backed chairs, which must have once been filled with people, but now the vast Eternal City had long since fallen silent. Behind him stood a treasure chest adorned with intricate patterns, sealed tight. Its presence alone spoke of something extraordinary. Above, a massive black orb hung from the dome, Silver Tears clinging to its surface like drops of liquid metal.
The Nox had no choice but to place their full trust in Throne—the Tarnished's pressure left them no room to refuse. Even setting foot in this sanctum was punishable by death under normal circumstances. "Fighting speaks louder than words." Throne's smile was thin, humorless. He hadn't wasted breath to get here, nor did he care about Nokstella's so-called treasures.
The floor was a graveyard of weapons—greatswords, curved blades, snapped spears—strewn across the gray-black stone like discarded bones. The entrance yawned open, letting in a knife-edged wind. Beside him, Nox Flowing Swords lay abandoned; against the wall, a row of Ant's Skull Plates and teardrop shields leaned like silent sentinels. "You're certain it'll come?"
Melina had watched it all—the Nox's hesitation, the monks still lurking beyond the hall, their fear palpable. "Do you know what's behind me?" Throne jerked his chin toward the shadows. "How would I? The Baleful Shadow?" "No." "Then why—"
"But it's tied to something else. The thing that razed Nokstella. Took blood and ritual to seal it away. When it senses what it once destroyed standing before it, it'll wake. It'll hunt. It'll finish the job." Throne's voice was flat. Nokstella had no king, no god—only heresy festering in the dark.
To Melina, it was a riddle wrapped in threat. She saw the truth: Throne knew something slept beneath them, something even the Baleful Shadow might unwittingly unleash upon Caria. "Baseless speculation. You think Nokstella could break the seal?" "They can't. This is just bait—to lure it back to its unfinished work."
"And when it's used?" "That's for the Two Fingers to decide." Throne exhaled. He doubted they'd act now, but letting the enemy hold a trump card was folly. That thing—the Darkness-Abandoned Child—was a storm waiting to break. "Bait's useless if the seal holds," Melina pressed. "Because breaking it is child's play."
"To it, the key's already in reach." The Dark Moon Ring—that cursed wedding band—sat gathering dust in the Academy's library. No vault could withstand a hero's blade, no lock outlast their will. And Rennala? Lost to madness, her protection meant nothing. Melina's confusion was expected. Only an outsider, a prophet, could grasp the threads of fate tangled here. "If the key's so easy to take, why bother with bait?"
"The Two Fingers don't burn worlds. They prune threats. And that thing?" Throne's shrug was final. "Even they can't control it."