Upon that shattered, ruined harbor, Nolan finally came to a stop.
He braced himself on his massive Claymore, dragging in ragged breaths, each inhale feeling as though it stripped away the last of his strength.
Directly ahead, a terrifying figure hovered in the air, vast wings beating heavily. It was the dreaded Blood Lord, Mohg.
But he was not the only monster here. A closer look revealed that the Promised Consort was no longer recognizable either, more like some horror crawling up from the abyss.
His entire body was covered in a thick layer of ashen-gray scales, glinting with an eerie sheen like scattered stars in the night. Broad membranous wings tore through his back, spreading wide like a dark curtain that blotted out the sky. Human and dragon traits blended seamlessly within him, forming a being both strikingly beautiful and chillingly grotesque.
The Golden Needle Knight armor had been badly corroded, its protection all but gone.
He really needed something to boost his defenses. The Flying Dragon's Scale Armor suddenly didn't look like a bad option.
Ranni would probably be delighted. The Dark Moon Knight had turned into the "little dragonkin" she always wanted to raise.
"Don't stop! This is a battle of destiny!" Nolan roared.
He gripped the hilt with both hands, twisted hard, and swept the Claymore sideways in a brutal arc. The strike surged forward with unstoppable force, carrying fury and resolve enough to smash through anything in its path.
He would see for himself whether fate truly sent Mohg to steal the Saintess.
And even if it had, he would still try to change it. He had done so through countless lifetimes before.
Mohg did not underestimate him. He immediately swung his spear up to block.
Clang!
The two weapons slammed together, sparks bursting outward in a blinding spray. The shockwave forced both of them back. Nolan staggered several heavy steps before barely regaining his footing.
Seizing the opening, Mohg inhaled deeply, reset his stance, then launched himself forward with explosive force.
The massive membranous wings hanging behind Nolan snapped open. With a single powerful beat, they whipped up a violent gust.
Boom!!
Mohg's eyes turned cold as he drove his blade straight toward his target.
The ground beneath Nolan seemed to suffer a direct impact, exploding into a deep crater as dust roared upward and shattered stone scattered in all directions.
Yet Nolan himself moved like a bird on the wind, streaking through the air for over ten meters in a single bound.
A sharp series of slicing sounds tore past him. Several crimson claw marks, each stretching meters long, slashed through the air. The Bloodflame Talons surged like a feral beast, flames writhing as they lunged.
Mohg nearly laughed. Though his body was riddled with wounds, facing this seemingly fragile opponent filled him with uncontrollable exhilaration.
It felt like inevitability. A sense of destiny rose unbidden within him, stirring a fierce pride in this Lord of Blood.
He thrust out a thick, powerful arm, raking at the air before him. The limb looked like a torn wound, slick with blood.
With that motion, streak after streak of crimson claw marks flashed into existence, sweeping outward with savage force. Wherever they passed, rolling Bloodflames erupted, stretching into a long, blazing tongue that threatened to burn the entire space to ash.
Bloodflame Talons!
Too close. Too fast. There was no time to deploy Thops's Barrier.
But Nolan's lightning was no mere decoration. The Bloodflames had barely flared before they were forcibly driven back.
Gavel of Haima!
As Bloodflame and lightning tangled and clashed in midair, Nolan suddenly raised the Gavel of Haima. The massive hammer shimmered with dense Magical Power, blazing like a miniature sun.
With a roar, he brought it down in a crushing arc toward Mohgwyn's Sacred Spear.
The instant they collided, a storm of sparks exploded outward, lighting up the dim harbor in violent flashes.
Driven by the power of the wings at his back, Nolan's movements grew ever swifter and more ruthless.
The blow came down with crushing force, sweeping across Mohg's shoulder from the side and knocking him off balance, nearly sending him to the ground.
Blood sprayed. Flesh split from bone. Agonizing pain tore through his shoulder, yet a smile still lingered on his face.
His thick, elongated arm snapped back. The war spear clenched in his grip lashed out like a raging storm, smashing into Nolan's body and carving a deep, bloody gash in an instant.
The impact hurled Nolan backward. Mohg twisted his waist with surprising agility, his massive wings beating hard behind him as he shot forward, spear slashing diagonally downward.
He already understood that magic was useless. In their previous clashes, every spell had been neutralized by that golden lightning and the strange magical barrier. Even the Accursed Blood had lost its bite.
There was only one option left.
Every strike had to draw blood. Spells would not win this. He needed raw strength, overwhelming force, close-quarters slaughter.
The curtain of blood that had just been cast was sliced open, countless droplets raining down and splattering directly across Mohg's face.
Nolan, meanwhile, chained together Bloodhound's Step, blinking again and again as the crimson arc swept past his vision.
Each beat of Mohg's wings carried him more than ten meters through the air.
But Nolan seemed to have already read his movements. He swung both blades with relentless force. A few thrusts managed to scrape across the Scale Armor and draw blood, though most clashed against the Claymore instead, bursting into showers of sparks.
Lightning Storm!
Nolan drew in a deep breath. Blinding radiance flared from his body. His feet flashed like lightning as he unleashed that familiar storm technique.
In an instant, a massive thunderstorm nearly twenty meters in radius erupted from him, surging wildly outward in every direction.
Not far away, Mohg's pupils shrank.
This was bad.
He leapt backward again and again, wings beating furiously as he retreated at full speed.
Boom!!!
The golden shockwave tore across the harbor like a rampaging beast, sweeping away shattered stone and gouging the ground into a landscape of craters. Mohg chose not to land at all, remaining airborne.
What terrifying power. In a true fight to the death, even Ansbach might not defeat him. And he was still so young. The potential was undeniable.
As that realization settled in, he saw Nolan suddenly open his mouth.
A blazing radiance, as tall as a man and over ten meters wide, rapidly expanded in Mohg's vision.
Dragonfire!
Boom!
This was not a Dragon Feast Incantation, but true Flying Dragon breath.
From between rows of jagged teeth, a torrent of fire roared forth. The ground erupted in thick white smoke upon impact.
Mohg, who should have been swallowed by the inferno, instead beat his wings violently, stirring up a howling gale that scattered the Flying Dragon breath into empty air.