Death comes for all. If mine comes in service of loyalty, I'll greet it without regret."
Words beyond this were wasted breath. Slaying the Ancient Dragon was within his power, but Radahn? Impossible.
"Remember this day."
Gurranq's gaze lingered, heavy as a tombstone, before he stepped back three paces and dissolved into the wind. Dust motes swirled where he'd stood, then scattered like frightened sparrows. Radahn watched the empty space. His exhale carried the weight of centuries. Today's choice aligned with Radahn the man—not Radahn the General. By rights, he should've restrained the dragon. Let Gurranq finish the hunt. A laugh cut through his thoughts.
"Save your sighs. You've earned my respect."
Lansseax's hand came down toward his shoulder—he sidestepped the contact.
"Most demigods are stubborn mules. But loyalty like yours? Rare. We could've been friends."
Radahn's stare could've chiseled stone.
"Only this way can I face him unshackled. Otherwise..."
His gauntlet clenched over his breastplate.
"This heart would always hunger."
The dragon's amusement faded.
"You should leave. Next time, General Radahn receives you."
Not the man who shared wine with Throne. Not the warrior who'd sparred with Lansseax under the stars. The General knew only the Erdtree's will. Next encounter meant surrender, flight, or death.
"You mortals tie yourselves in knots."
Lansseax rolled her eyes.
"Hmm!?"
Radahn's growl shook the canyon walls.
"Fine, fine."
She mock-slapped her own cheekbones. Four wings unfurled with a sound like tearing parchment.
"Free advice: you can't beat him."
"Fuck off!"
The dragon's leap shattered the ground. One midair warp—then she was a speck racing westward. Radahn spat.
"Why does everyone assume I'll lose?"
His knuckles cracked against his helm. That bastard Throne—was his reputation truly so fearsome? Memories of Greyoll's corpse cooled his anger. Even in her dotage, that old wyrm's power had dwarfed castles. To slay her... Throne's strength was no boast.
"Ten years. Just ten years since I last walked these lands."
His teeth gleamed in a feral grin.
"When did such a monster crawl from the cracks?"
Excitement thrummed through his veins. Worthy opponents were rarer than honest gods. Now? The debt was repaid. No more holding back. Radahn crouched. The earth cratered beneath his boots. Then—gone. Only a fading streak across the blue marked his passage. Throne's fingers tightened on the reins.
"Over already?"
The mountain stream gurgled beside his mare's hooves. Melina emerged from the treeline, shaking oak leaves from her cloak.
"Radahn intervened? Why?"
Lansseax's interference had been unexpected. Radahn's? Unthinkable. Throne's ambush plans dissolved like salt in broth. His strength was returning. Melina and Millicent had taken positions. Then this. Throne studied the empty sky.
"He wants clean hands when he kills me."
Kill you without any burden? Melina's brow furrowed. Radahn's intervention alone shocked her—she'd suspected some backroom pact.
"He saves you, then plans your murder? Is the man split in two?"
Throne's chuckle was dry as kindling.
"You wouldn't understand. Now we're square. Next time? No restraints. Just steel."
Throne couldn't be bothered to explain; what did women know about the friendship between men? Melina huffed in annoyance but didn't say more, because if she asked too much, she would inevitably be called an idiot again.
"Teacher, so are we still going to Redmane Castle?"
Millicent walked over silently, holding her long sword, looking ready to fight for her life at any moment.
"Forget it, forget it. I'm a man who cares about his reputation; I can't keep troubling Radahn."
Throne shook his head. As a friend, one shouldn't make things difficult for the other.
"But this is your best chance to kill him."
Melina remained persistent, saying urgently: "Radahn still has misgivings, and his strength hasn't recovered. Besides, you have that wolf-man with you."
"Even if I kill him, it will be a fair duel between men."
"Aren't you quite underhanded? Since when did you care about morals?"
Throne's blood pressure spiked, and he didn't intend to trade barbs with Melina anymore. He just threw out a casual sentence: "Using any means necessary depends on the opponent. Radahn is worthy of a fair fight. As a strong person, how can one survive without some obsession?"
Melina still didn't understand, but Millicent's eyes lit up. As expected, Teacher was a hero, for only heroes cherish heroes. Throne didn't pay attention to the two people with different reactions; he pinched his chin and pondered to himself. He had met a friend, killed an enemy, and sown the seeds of trouble. This trip to Caelid was already worth more than the cost, and besides, he felt a sense of urgency. Regardless of the reason, this chaotic era could no longer hide him. The fact that the Beast Clergyman had suddenly jumped out was proof enough that the enemy were not fools. They were also searching for the truth and accumulating power; they wouldn't foolishly wait for Throne to come knocking at their door.
"But that's what makes it interesting!"
Throne's eyes were incredibly bright. Defeating powerful and intelligent enemies brought satisfaction. If he were to just stay put, wait for them to snowball, and then slay them one by one, how boring that would be. There were no mindless pigs or dogs in The Lands Between, only a group of gods, demigods, and heroes. Their life experience was so rich that they would be able to react quickly.
"Everyone, take a break. We'll wait here for Lansseax and Blaidd to return. Once I rest a bit, I'll discuss the next steps with Ranni."
There wasn't much left to do in Caelid, but there was still much to arrange across The Lands Between. However, Throne's head was throbbing, and he couldn't think of any good solutions.
"Are you sure you want to stay in this wilderness?"
Melina looked around. The scenery here was pleasant enough, but a bunch of powerful figures were still behind them, preparing to hunt them down.
"Don't worry. Since Radahn has intervened, even the Black Blade must give him some face."
Throne became relaxed. He hadn't expected this matter to be resolved so quickly. He glanced around and simply walked over to a stone by the stream.
"Melina, come here for a second."
"What for?"
The girl walked over, her eyes full of vigilance.
"To be my pillow. I need to recover my stamina quickly."
Why call me. Melina felt a bit unhappy, but she sat on a stone and patted her elastic-looking thigh.
"Come here."
"I wish you would invite me more ladylike."
"Then you can sleep on the stone yourself."
Melina didn't indulge him, rising to leave, but her hem was caught.
"Just kidding. Can't you be considerate of a wounded person?"
Throne put on an ingratiating smile. No, you weren't fighting for your life for me. Melina huffed softly and sat back down. When Throne lay down on her, she stroked his head, feeling the sensation for a moment. Warm and highly elastic; not bad, not bad.
"Teacher, I'll go to higher ground to keep watch."
Millicent was quite perceptive; she picked up her sword and left. Melina's hand lifted, hesitated, then fell back to her side. Calling her back wasn't worth the risk—not yet. She glanced down and found Throne staring up at her, his eyes wide and unfocused. Her brow furrowed.
"Sleep. Didn't you say you needed to recover?"
"Too bright," he muttered, wincing. "My body's on fire. Head's pounding."
He forced a weak smile, but the pain was real. Breaking the magic threshold, burning his blood—it would've shattered even the strongest man.
"You're a walking disaster," Melina snapped, her voice sharp but her hands gentle as she began massaging his temples.
"Keep this up, and you'll kill yourself."
Throne chuckled faintly, his gaze drifting.
"Lying on you like this—aren't you worried the Lunar Princess will get jealous?"
"I don't have the energy to care about that," he said, his tone easy, almost lazy.
"Some things… I don't know how to choose. So I let them be. Answers'll come eventually."
Melina's fingers didn't stop.
"Hmph. I'd rather finish my mission soon and wash my hands of all this mess."
"Really?"
Throne's azure eyes locked onto hers, piercing and unyielding. She froze, her gaze darting away. The babbling stream filled the silence between them.
"Guess not," he said softly, closing his eyes. "I'll sleep for a bit. Sort through the chaos in my dreams. Haven't even had time to process what's happened."
Godskin Noble. Mohgwyn Dynasty. Maliketh. His thoughts were a tangled web, but one thing was clear—this wasn't over. Greyoll's massive corpse lay sprawled across the ruins, its blood long since congealed. The Beast Clergyman stood before it, his towering frame silhouetted against the fading light. His clawed hand traced the dragon's head, its eyes gouged and lifeless. The sight was grotesque, but his touch was tender, almost reverent. After a long silence, he spoke, his voice low and measured.
"I've found something. The clues they gave me… they might be true."
"And the result?"
The reply came from nowhere, a disembodied voice echoing in the void.
"Lansseax and Radahn stopped me. I didn't pursue further."
He paused, letting the words hang. The alliance between the Ancient Dragon and General Radahn was unexpected, unsettling.
"Is Radahn turning against the Golden Order?"
"No. Personal feelings, nothing more. His loyalty hasn't wavered. If it had, he'd have attacked me alongside Lansseax."
Relief tinged the Clergyman's voice. Radahn's betrayal would've been catastrophic, something only the Greater Will could contain.
"Personal feelings? For whom?"
"No answer yet. But I'll find it. The Tarnished might hold the key."
Gurranq straightened, his claws retracting.
"There's more. In Caelid… I encountered someone else."
"Who?"
"Ranni's shadow beast."
Silence stretched, heavy and ominous. The timing was too coincidental; some answers buried beneath the chaos seemed ready to emerge. The shifting skies of Liurnia, the power struggles in Limgrave, the grand spectacle unfolding in Caelid—pieces were falling into place, connecting threads that once seemed scattered and unrelated. Tarnished, dragons, Kindred of Rot, Mohgwyn Dynasty, Radahn—these forces tangled together, a knot only the Two Fingers could unravel. Someone was orchestrating it all. The shadow beast pointed to Caria as the prime suspect. The Two Fingers stirred uneasily. Too much time had been wasted on the Death Eater. A suspicion crept in: was the long-sought Death Eater tied to Caria? If so, annihilation would be necessary, even at the cost of mutual destruction. If not, Ranni's ideals were intolerable, but she was just another rebel among many. Crushing Caria might leave room for others to rise.
"I understand."
"This matter must take precedence. The answer feels close. One misstep could unravel everything. I can't rely on speculation—evidence is needed."
"Of course it's a priority, but someone's plotting in the shadows. I won't wait until the volcano erupts to act."
Gurranq's tone was grave. His instincts screamed warnings. The enemy was ready to strike, poised to overthrow the existing order—something the Erdtree would never allow.
"I'll act. My resources are thin, but are you certain Radahn isn't involved?"
"I'm certain."
"Then I'll trust your judgment for now, but I'll investigate further."
The voice faded. Gurranq turned away. He didn't return to the Bestial Sanctum. The situation no longer suited lurking there. Some matters outweighed the retrieval of deathroot. He headed west, toward Limgrave, intent on meeting someone. Thousands of miles away, in a pitch-black room, the Two Fingers swayed. The Finger Maiden, dozing off, jolted awake.
"Lord Two Fingers, do you have instructions?"
"Enia, summon Bishop Shimlei. Afterward, invite His Highness Morgott."
"Yes."
The Finger Maiden nodded and slipped out the door. Moments later, a figure in white priest robes appeared. His radiant blonde hair gleamed like the sun, his aura steady and calm. Golden pupils glowed with holy light. As the highest bishop of the Two Fingers sect, he carried the bloodline of the Golden Lineage, akin to Godrick—a third-generation god.
"Lord Two Fingers, you called for me?"
The bishop bowed gracefully, his poise reflecting deep wisdom. His gaze shifted to Enia.