In Limgrave, on the southern plateau outside Summonwater Village, vast grasslands stretched before them like a green sea.
At the center of that grassland, the grass-covered hill of Miro Fortress rose like a solitary island.
From the summit, the view was wide open. The lake below and everything around it could be seen at a glance.
Pale insects darted across the grass at high speed. Now and then, dark red butterflies flew in from the nearby lake below, carrying to their ears every detail of the attack and defense that had caused barely a ripple.
A Mushroom Man stood on the hill. He raised his hand, letting a Rot Butterfly settle on his fingertip.
He should have been concentrating fully on the state of the battlefield, yet he still could not help feeling reverence for the Goddess's Incarnation.
Just then, another Mushroom Man slowly approached from behind.
He came to stand beside the first Mushroom Man, then bowed to the Rot Butterfly like a believer paying homage to the god in his heart.
"So this is the Redmanes?" The approaching Mushroom Man frowned as he stared toward the distant battlefield. "As expected of the most elite feudal army. Their combat strength is truly astonishing."
A trace of worry entered his voice. "It seems the Fire-Bearer Army defending Summonwater Village has no way to stop them. I'm afraid they won't hold out for long."
"There's no need to be disappointed, Lord Moroto. More precisely, the Fire-Bearer Army chose to give up resisting. The knights behind Stormveil Castle's high walls are no fools. They know very well that making their stand here would not be wise."
The Mushroom Man with the Rot Butterfly perched on his fingertip shook his head.
"Of course I understand that, Lord Angelo." Moroto's brow knit tightly, as though the concern in his heart had grown heavier.
He went on, "But if this war continues like this, the Redmane path of conquest will be far too smooth. That is not the outcome we want."
"Trust me. In Stormveil, Radahn will meet the most unforgettable opponent of his life."
Angelo still wore a smile, his tone relaxed and confident.
"Look at how tense you are. Don't worry. That new Lord is a contender for the throne acknowledged by the Goddess herself."
A hint of shock appeared on Moroto's face. He pressed, "Does the Goddess truly think so highly of that Lord of the Tarnished?"
"He is, after all, the Lord who defeated the Valkyrie." Angelo paused briefly, then asked, "Or are you questioning the Goddess's judgment?"
"I would never dare!" Moroto hurriedly lowered his head. "Please forgive my presumption!"
…
Ten hours later, in the holy city where the Goddess Of Rot had once dwelled inside Malenia's body.
Within the roots of the Haligtree, on the top floor of the Goddess's most sacred residence, Miquella and Trina held a grand farewell banquet.
Soldiers covered in tree roots held cups of fine wine, while Flying Dragons stood on the branches like birds, chunks of meat still clamped in their mouths.
This farewell banquet was not only for Trina. It was for every one of them, and for every dragon as well. They were about to leave this comfortable city behind.
No one knew what they would face after leaving.
Would it be hardship and danger, or a smooth journey? Or would they die beneath bloody blades the very next moment after stepping away?
Elphael stood very close to the Consecrated Snowfield, yet beneath the lush green tree, it remained spring all year round. Nolan stood by the window of a tall building.
Under the glow of the Glintstone lamps, his figure looked especially tall. He smiled and raised his cup to the crowd, and the soldiers raised theirs in answer.
The young Goddess in a purple gown stood nearby, her beauty blooming like spring flowers.
Trina held her cup in both hands, took a small sip of fruit wine, then turned her gaze out the window. Outside, a sea of people surged in layer upon layer.
When she saw Malenia approaching, Trina broke into a brilliant smile. She quickly stepped forward, gently took her younger sister's hand, and led her to Nolan's side.
"Malenia, you have to try this. The wine is really good." Trina lifted her cup.
"I've had it many times already. What about you, Sister? When did you learn to drink?" Malenia asked.
"I learned from Nolan." Trina raised a hand and pointed straight at the tall man beside her, selling out her own Lord without hesitation.
"So you're the one who corrupted my sister?" Malenia turned to look at Nolan.
"Hey, hey, how is that my fault? She wanted to drink it herself." Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Besides, Trina may look young, but she's a genuine Goddess. A few cups of fruit wine aren't going to ruin her health."
Malenia looked at Trina, who was nodding again and again beside him as though she agreed completely with Nolan, and sighed helplessly.
She stood up, slowly walked to the window, and stared out at the scenery in thought.
Malenia took a hearty drink from her cup, then suddenly asked, "Are you really fine with handing Summonwater Village over to Radahn?"
"Wasn't that the strategy we settled on long ago?" Nolan asked in return.
"Aren't you worried the Redmane will destroy that village? I remember that village is fairly important to Limgrave, isn't it?" Malenia looked at him through the red wine.
"I believe Radahn is the Starscourge General, not a bandit chieftain," Nolan said, beginning to judge his brother-in-law's character.
What a joke. A lousy Valkyrie who stole sword techniques, demanded kisses in the middle of the night just to win, and only dared act tough in bed actually had the nerve to question someone else's character?
In truth, the Golden Lords had a very good reputation in the Lands Between.
Even Godrick, whose mind had not been quite right after being driven out of the Royal Capital, was criticized only for grafting Tarnished to himself, not for flaunting his force before commoners or throwing his weight around.
The Golden Lords had once been regular armies, Demigod forces that bore the name of heroes. They were not bandits who came down from the mountains to rob and plunder.
Malenia rolled her eyes. She had no intention whatsoever of discussing character with her mentally unstable brother-in-law.
She knew very well that there were indeed a few things she had done that were less than honorable. Of course, she had also never told anyone she was some great hero.
She would rather people see her as a simple executioner. That, at least, made her feel more at ease.
Lately, though, she really had been feeling more and more relaxed. Not only because the Goddess who had coveted her body was gone, but also because she had fulfilled a wish she had carried for so long.
"Will you show him mercy this time too, Your Majesty Nolan?" Malenia raised her wine cup. "Just like you took pity on me back then."
"No." Nolan's smile was bright. "His goal is to become a Lord. If he refuses to give that up, then there is only one outcome for us. The victor steps over the loser's corpse and keeps moving forward."
"So you think Radahn has a chance of winning?"
"I never underestimate any opponent, including you. But I also have absolute confidence that I will win. Before the result is decided, I never believe I will lose," Nolan said with some feeling.
It was a strange thing to say. He believed his opponent had a chance of winning, yet he also had absolute confidence in his own victory. It was far too contradictory.
How could a single battle have two victors?
And yet he said it so earnestly that one had no choice but to believe he truly thought the outcome remained uncertain, while also believing that it was already set.
Sure enough, he had not changed. He was still that strange man, still the same monster.
Malenia was silent for a moment.
"Don't die."