In the northern reaches of Liurnia of the Lakes, where the water shimmers with a spectral, undulating light, a cluster of long-abandoned, crumbling ruins stands silently amidst the waves. These ruins, bearing the heavy weight of eons and history, sit not far from the Raya Lucaria Academy.
Across the mirror-like surface of the lake, a dozen or so wraiths floated, their forms severed into grisly fragments. Their translucent limbs bobbed in the water, swaying gently with the ripples and emitting a faint, nauseating aura of decay.
Inside a nearby shack—its windows rattling precariously in the wind as if ready to fall at any moment—a flicker of weak but warm light from a site of grace pulsed. That orange glow seeped through the cracks in the walls, lending a touch of vitality to an otherwise deathly environment.
Within this crude but relatively safe shelter, Millicent slowly pried her heavy eyelids open.
Immediately, a violent fit of coughing erupted from deep within her throat, surging like a tide as if it intended to tear her very lungs out. She curled into a ball of pain, pressing her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, but to no effect.
Slowly, Millicent tied back her disheveled crimson hair. She tried to sift through her thoughts, but her mind was a tangled mess of thread that refused to be unraveled. She couldn't even remember which day of her journey this was.
Since parting ways with him, she had traveled alone along the wide, peril-laden highways of Caelid. She had witnessed the valor of the soldiers at the border, fighting desperately to stem the advance of the Rot.
When she reached the outskirts of Stormveil Castle, she had stared at its soaring ramparts for a long time. Ultimately, she chose not to enter. Something about that place—some indistinct, foul memory—made her very toes curl with a sense of visceral disgust.
It was then that she saw the massive meteors lighting up the night sky. There was no doubt: only General Radahn, the Conqueror of the Stars, could command such a spectacle. Had the so-called "Festival of Combat" begun?
Millicent knew what those sights implied. However, she had faith in that man. Silently wishing him luck, she continued her trek. That night, countless stars fell upon the Lands Between, serving as a guiding light for her path forward.
She had met few people she could speak with along the way; truth be told, she was intentionally avoiding contact. Only the occasional nomadic merchant caravan provided the chance for trade. She frequently needed to restock on Preserving Boluses and similar concoctions to suppress the Scarlet Rot within her.
The Runes she gathered from slaying various monsters were considerable. Seeing such a high-paying customer, the nomadic merchants were invariably enthusiastic, sometimes even providing extra information for free. Thus, even traveling alone, she faced few insurmountable troubles.
Though the Unalloyed Gold Needle arrested the spread of the rot, it did not solve the fundamental problem. The Scarlet Rot still writhed within her, and it was clear that if she ever lost the needle, the backlash would be a hundredfold.
She could only rely on her fragmented, hazy memories to grope her way toward the home in her heart. She sought to reclaim her past will—the will that resisted the rot. Even if she were to dissolve into a heap of putrid flesh, she would never allow the Flower of Aeonia to bloom.
Once, her memory had been shattered by the erosion of the Rot, like a mural torn into a thousand pieces. But as her journey progressed, those lost fragments returned to her one by one, like the stars that had flickered across the sky that night. Gradually, the mural of her past was being repaired. She knew where she had to go, but it was destined to be a long journey.
Millicent massaged her aching arm. The disgusting wraiths she had encountered earlier that day had repulsed her. Though it had taken little effort to cut them down with her refined swordplay, every swing was far from enjoyable. Vitality only made the Scarlet Rot more active; thus, unless necessary, she did her best to bypass potential conflict.
After days of adjustment, she had completely adapted to her new prosthetic arm. The sword techniques she remembered using with her previous arm didn't quite fit anymore; she needed to improve them.
As the stars over Liurnia were once again veiled by the radiance of the Erdtree, Millicent resumed her journey.
To reach her destination, she first had to ascend to the Altus Plateau. Without a medallion, however, she couldn't use the Grand Lift of Dectus.
According to information she had bought from a nomadic merchant, there was an abandoned mine shaft on the other side that could be climbed. That was her intended route.
Just then, she sensed something abnormal. Looking up, she saw a Glintstone Dragon soaring through the sky, seemingly in pursuit of prey.
Millicent recognized this dragon. It was notorious within Liurnia, and countless sorcerers had died beneath its claws. She had done her best to avoid its hunting grounds, but today, their paths had crossed.
She initially thought of finding a place to hide until it passed. But when she saw that the dragon was hunting three seemingly normal humans rather than wraiths, she hesitated for a split second. Remembering the help she had received before, she gritted her teeth, gripped her blade, and dashed forward.
In truth, she wasn't the only one coming to help.
Rya felt she was having a bout of exceptionally bad luck. All she wanted to do was promote the Volcano Manor and recruit a few heroes, but her journey had been one disaster after another.
Granted, she had been greedy and pawned her necklace, which was her mistake, but surely she didn't deserve to be targeted by a Glintstone Dragon on her way back.
Beside her, Boggart and Patches were both at a loss for words. Both men felt that this girl possessed a natural talent for attracting misfortune.
The three of them had different goals but were traveling together toward the Altus Plateau. Who could have known that while passing through a dragon's nest, a glintstone meteor would fall from the sky and strike a sleeping dragon right on the head?
Enraged, the dragon had crushed the meteor and risen to find three unlucky passersby. They had no choice but to run.
Rya's natural running posture was far more suited to her serpent form; in her human guise, she struggled to maintain any real speed. If she ran any faster, she feared her secret would be revealed.
While she could teleport back at any time, she could only take one person with her. She couldn't bring both, and because she was worried about her companions, she hadn't fled ahead of time. Now, they were about to be cornered.
Just as the three were forced into a glintstone-studded cave, they stared at the dragon's head, which was attempting to wedge itself into the entrance just meters away. Boggart and Patches felt their luck had finally run out. It wasn't how they'd planned to die, but they were out of options.
The only reason they weren't dead yet was that the glintstone-addled dragon seemed a bit dim-witted; it hadn't realized it could just breathe fire into the narrow cave and kill them all instantly.
Boggart sat on the ground, dejected. He hadn't expected to die in a hole like this before he could return to the Capital to deal with that damn Dung Eater.
"Little girl," Boggart grumbled, "I know who you are. You're from that Volcano Manor place. I know you've got some way to escape, so just leave me and go. Maybe aবরাদ for a guy like me, this is the end I deserve."
"Really, Rya?" Patches chimed in, suddenly springing up from the ground. "Get me out of here!"
The moment he heard there was a chance for survival, Patches' survival instincts went into overdrive. He was glad he'd been clever enough to wheedle a Volcano Manor invitation out of her earlier. He looked at Boggart with a pained, pitying expression.
"Alas, though you are an irredeemable thug, I shall miss your boiled prawns. Don't worry—I'll come back to collect your remains. Assuming there's anything left to collect."
Rya was so anxious she nearly lost her human form. If only Sir Bernahl were here; what would a mere Glintstone Dragon be to him? But she was alone, and she couldn't exactly scare a dragon off by stretching her neck out.
Though she was used to bathing in lava, the breath of a glintstone dragon wasn't just heat—it was laced with magical damage.
What should I do? Should I take one of them first? That thug stole my necklace, but his prawns really are delicious... And that bald man, Patches... I've invited him, but he doesn't seem reliable at all. Who do I save? It's too hard to choose!
As Rya agonized, a thunderous boom echoed from outside. Something had slammed heavily into the Glintstone Dragon's tail. Shrieking in pain, the beast yanked its head out of the cave to see who dared ambush it from behind.
The moment its neck cleared the entrance, a flurry of blade strikes descended like a torrential storm. Every hit bypassed the glintstone crystals on its hide, striking true against the exposed flesh of its neck and hind legs.
Millicent dared not underestimate such a foe. She unleashed her full strength from the start, seeking to maximize the damage.
The Glintstone Dragon let out a massive wail. Millicent nimbly dodged its frantic, clumsy counters. In its rage, blue flames began to swirl in its maw as it beat its wings to take to the air. Its primitive brain had finally realized it could use its breath from above.
Millicent didn't flinch. She had been intentionally drawing its attention to shift the battlefield. The dragon was exactly where she wanted it. She nodded upward, signaling that the time had come. The dragon had forgotten one vital detail: that initial heavy blow hadn't been a sword strike.
From atop a massive glintstone outcropping behind the dragon, a figure leaped down. A man clad in heavy armor and wielding a colossal hammer reached the planned attack point. Receiving the signal, he dove from the heights, his hammer slamming down onto the dragon's skull with bone-shattering force.
As one of the most powerful weapons in existence, the Giant-Crusher was designed specifically to hunt creatures that transcended human scale. The effect was devastating.
Great Horned Tragoth's blow shattered the glintstone atop the dragon's head and the bone beneath it. Despite a dragon's legendary resilience, such a wound sent it crashing to the earth. It could only gasp for air, feebly exhaling blue mist as it struggled.
Millicent showed no mercy. Gripping her long blade, she delivered a precise, lethal strike, severing the dragon's head in one clean motion.
She sheathed her weapon and looked at the Tarnished wearing the iconic Bull-Goat helm.
"My name is Millicent," she said. "You have my thanks. That dragon would have been a nightmare to handle alone."
"No thanks are necessary. Call me Tragoth," the man replied. "I'm just a warrior traveling after participating in the Festival of Combat. I didn't expect to run into this beast on the road.
Killing it with you has removed a major threat. I wonder how the three hiding in the cave are faring?"
"The Festival of Combat?" Millicent's eyes sharpened. "I think we have much to discuss."
Rya poked her head out from the cave, only to see the decapitated, wide-eyed head of the dragon resting right in front of her. She let out a startled yelp and fell back onto the ground.
Tragoth watched the commotion and, seeing the girl was unharmed, shouldered his hammer.
"You want to know about the Festival?" he asked. "No problem. It looks like you're heading for the Altus Plateau as well. I can tell you all about the battle between that hero and the Demigod Radahn on the way. It was a duel for the ages.
But first, let's check on the girl inside."
Millicent nodded and followed Tragoth into the cave. She knew that the "hero" he spoke of had to be the person who had helped her.
On a hillside somewhere in Liurnia, Leda closed the scroll in her hand, her golden eyes fixed on the distant lake.
The commotion she had heard earlier was likely that Glintstone Dragon. Perhaps a Dragon Communion devotee had done the deed; regardless, it was of no importance to her.
"So, these are the latest movements of the Storm Lord?" she mused. "His actions are even more decisive than I imagined. He has already seized control of the entrance to the Eternal City?"
Beside her, Dryleaf Dane simply nodded without speaking. This was the latest intelligence gathered by Miquella's followers hidden within Stormveil.
In truth, this information wasn't exactly a secret. Their subject made no effort to hide his tracks whenever he went out; he moved with absolute openness.
"This means he likely already knows the specific location of the Mohgwyn Dynasty."
Leda pondered this for a moment. As one of Miquella's inner circle, she knew the truth behind the so-called "Blood Conspiracy."
After Lord Miquella discovered the flaws of the Golden Order, he began planning a new Order entirely. The body of Mohg, Lord of Blood, was an indispensable part of that plan—it was the key that would allow her and the other followers to enter the Land of Shadow.
The problem was that the Lord of Blood was no easy target. Even if they gathered all the top heroes in their camp, a victory would be uncertain. The gap in power was a matter of sheer scale; numbers meant nothing against him, especially in the horrific environment of the Mohgwyn Dynasty.
Thus, Gawain—the man who had defeated General Radahn at the Festival—was the person she most wanted to recruit. He appeared to view the Lord of Blood as an enemy as well. She decided she should take action to "nudge" his progress along.
"Dane, have your people continue to monitor the Storm Lord's every move. Report any new developments to me immediately. And remember: avoid conflict at all costs."
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Elden Ring: In the Name of Ash (218 chapter - Ongoing)
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