The moment to face the demigod had arrived. Frieren and the assembled Tarnished now stood before the Shardbearer, feeling the weight of his presence.
Godrick stood atop the carcass of a Flying Dragon, muttering quietly to himself as if admiring a piece of art, completely absorbed, unwilling to be disturbed. Only then did he slowly turn around.
"Mere Tarnished," Godrick sneered, "your arrogance is considerable."
He unfastened his ornate robes, revealing broad shoulders and a back covered in a grotesque tapestry of grafted arms – dozens of them, writhing and grasping like creatures unto themselves, some seemingly struggling, crying out for help. The sight made many of the Tarnished frown deeply, a palpable fear gripping them.
Even the widely experienced Frieren raised an eyebrow. She rarely felt genuine distaste for a 'game character,' but today, she had truly encountered a grotesque monstrosity. With his full, horrifying form revealed, the demigod radiated an even greater sense of pressure than when he had stood quietly moments before.
"Kneel!" Godrick commanded. "I am the Golden Monarch!"
He gripped a massive battleaxe in both hands, slamming its head onto the ground with a resonant boom that stirred the dust. The power of his Great Rune flared, activating fully. Particles of golden light seemed to swirl around him, granting protection, while his sharp gaze, more piercing than any blade, stabbed into the hearts of all present. Several of the Tarnished froze on the spot, unable to move, unsure how to react. Were they really supposed to fight a Shardbearer? Now that they were actually face-to-face with one, they didn't know what to do.
Seeing their hesitation, Godrick grinned with immense satisfaction. "No matter. You will all become part of my Grafting soon enough. Begging for mercy is futile, though it might lessen your suffering... Frieren! Today, my focus is solely on you. Come! Show me the mettle of one who dares challenge a King!"
Preparations complete!
While the others had been stunned or posturing, the silver-haired girl had been constantly busy, drinking flasks and adjusting her equipment. Now, she ceased restraining her aura, letting it erupt fully, soaring towards the heavens, blanketing the entire castle. Gripping her staff, she instantly charged and completed her incantation – a process normally considered a moment of vulnerability, completed in a flash thanks to her unparalleled skill. The attack unleashed with thunderous force.
Sorcery: Comet Azur—
The pale blue beam slammed violently into Godrick's massive form. Caught completely by surprise, he had no time to dodge, taking the full brunt of the terrifying energy. Flesh ripped apart, agony shot through his every grafted limb, forcing horrific screams from his multiple mouths. The continuous magical assault created a swirling vortex of power, throwing nearby onlookers off their feet, making it impossible to even approach.
Frieren poured every ounce of her magical energy into this single, unrestrained attack. It felt good. A direct hit. There had been less resistance than she'd anticipated. Did he truly possess no proper means of defense? He seemed to rely solely on his grafted limbs to tank the hit, only for them to be obliterated. The mighty demigod was knocked to the ground, rolling in agony, blood spurting from countless wounds.
He desperately tried to break free, but it was useless. In Frieren's hands, Comet Azur's terrifying power lay in its sustained, overwhelming force. Within moments, his poise was shattered; he couldn't even regain his footing, pinned down by the relentless energy!
"Tarnished—!"
Finally, Godrick collapsed with a final roar, his voice trailing off into a weak groan as he lay prone on the ground. Even then, Frieren didn't cease the assault. Comet Azur swept over the demigod's fallen form, lost its target, and shot a final pulse into the sky, leaving a shimmering ripple, a temporary hole punched through the clouds. Only after completely expending the channeled magic did she relent, immediately gulping down several flasks to restore her cerulean reserves, finishing within a few breaths.
The self-proclaimed Golden Monarch lay still.
The other Tarnished, watching from a safe distance, were utterly dumbfounded, frozen on the spot. Their gazes flickered back and forth between the prone Godrick and the standing Frieren, double-checking they weren't mistaken about who was down and who was up. Could it really be... over already? Huh? Where was the anticipated epic battle? Was it really a one-sided stomp after just one exchange?
Frieren, however, did not lower her guard. She remained poised for battle, adding a word of caution: "Stay alert. It's not over yet. I sense his Great Rune absorbed some of the damage."
"More accurately, it enhanced me. But you are indeed powerful," Godrick rasped, coughing up blood as he struggled back to his feet. With a savage roar, he hacked off his own ruined left arm at the shoulder. Then, seizing the dragon carcass, he plunged the bleeding stump of his arm into its severed neck. In an instant, the grafted dragon head lifted, let out a piercing shriek, and spewed menacing flames. He was exhausted, in agony, yet in this moment, the Great Rune, empowered by the strength of his grafts, compensated for everything. He felt unprecedented power surging through him. Invincible.
"Forefathers, one and all! Bear witness!" Godrick bellowed.
So this is phase two? Frieren thought. She switched her off-hand weapon to a Brass Shield, opting for a more conservative approach. Whatever the player messages said, this Godrick was clearly not the pushover 'Lil' Godrick' they described. He possessed a measure of the Shardbearer's true might. She wasn't just facing a demigod; she was facing one actively wielding the power of a Great Rune. The slightest mistake could lead to severe injury or even defeat. She needed to concentrate fully.
WHOOSH!
The next moment, Godrick charged like an arrow loosed from a bow, the grafted dragon head spewing torrents of fire. Frieren leaped back to dodge, but even a glancing touch from the flames instantly ignited her robes, searing her skin. One of the other Tarnished wasn't so lucky; caught in the inferno, he was reduced to charred remains in a single breath. The speed of the immolation was terrifying. Rogier, standing nearby, didn't even have time to cast a healing spell before the man disintegrated into ash. The remaining Tarnished felt their scalps tingle with fear, hastily retreating further back – getting caught in that fire meant certain death.
Something's wrong. He didn't just graft a dragon's head; its power seems somehow enhanced.
"Have you realized?" Godrick roared triumphantly. "This is the true power of Grafting!" His initial charge having missed, he spun, revealing the mass of arms on his back, now wielding a fearsome assortment of weapons – hooks, axes large and small, spears, swords, halberds – each wielded with proficiency, striking out simultaneously towards Frieren.
Shield Parry!
Unable to dodge the multi-pronged assault, Frieren raised her Brass Shield to block. However, it shattered into pieces upon impact. Flying fragments grazed her cheek and shoulder, while several conventional weapons among the grafted limbs stabbed into her left arm, drawing blood, fracturing bone. This was the first time she had sustained such significant damage since arriving in The Lands Between. She quickly created distance, drinking another healing flask. Her arm began to mend rapidly, halting the worsening injury. Otherwise, being crippled would leave her dangerously vulnerable.
Godrick attacked again almost the instant Frieren lowered her flask. Barely dodging, Frieren caught a glimpse – his thick legs also seemed to bear the marks of grafting. The grotesque augmentations seemed to cover his entire body.
Hidden Body!
The silver-haired girl abruptly vanished, causing Godrick to pause for a fraction of a second before his gaze snapped towards where he sensed she'd moved. His demigod senses wouldn't be fooled for long by such a simple trick, but it was enough to buy Frieren time to create distance. Instantly, a swarm of Glintstone Pebbles filled the air, saturating his field of vision, seemingly blocking every possible escape route.
"Mere Tarnished! Are you playing at juggling tricks?" Godrick roared, easily batting aside the barrage of pebbles. Simultaneously, his grafted arms raised even more weapons, forming what seemed like an impenetrable defense. There seemed to be no angle of attack, no defensive blind spot. He now possessed formidable defense, attack power, and surprising speed, along with his most potent weapon: the Dragon's Breath!
Flames erupted, perfectly mirroring her earlier magical assault. The sheer power, like molten rock, forced even Frieren to retreat hastily, keeping her distance. The deadly attack grazed past her, slightly melting the surface of her flowing armor, her skin burning from the proximity. It was fast, and the impact was immense.
Godrick reveled in the power he'd never possessed before. That arm, infused with dark energy – the Abyssal presence – felt strongest of all, shadows steaming off his body like skeletal smoke.
"Now! Now I possess the strength to restore the honor of my Golden Lineage ancestors! My conquest begins here, at Stormveil!"
"And you shall be the first offering, Frieren, the Magic-Slaying Swordstress!" He no longer needed to use the generic term 'Tarnished.' Anyone who could withstand his assault this long, even defeating his pre-dragon-graft state, could be called strong, worthy of pride. But no matter who they were, they would become a trophy for the Golden Monarch.
He could feel it. Throughout the castle, soldiers paused, looking towards the deepest chamber, sensing the potent thrum of the Great Rune's power. The shard of the Elden Ring, The Lands Between's greatest power, had responded to its inheritor, its output stronger than ever before. Didn't that signify absolute legitimacy? And combined with that power from outside The Lands Between...!
Back at the main gate battlefield, everyone felt the shift in atmosphere, a sense of dread creeping in. The Undead Legion, ever sensitive to the Abyss, were the first to react.
"Your monarch," the Legion leader stated grimly to the Crucible Knights, "has dabbled in power he should not have touched."
The Crucible Knights remained silent. The nature of power does not lie. That distinct, corrosive aura undeniably radiated malice, seemingly tinged with the lingering resentment of some other dark ruler... But it was not their place to interfere in the choices of a Golden Scion. Such temptations were trials inherent to the path of lordship.
"Our loyalty is not swayed by such things," one Knight retorted. "You should be more concerned about your sorceress. Lord Godrick will end this battle soon."
The surrounding Southern Army soldiers felt their hearts tremble; the surging power of the Great Rune was undeniably immense. Fight harder! Having fought alongside Lady Frieren for so long, would all their efforts be in vain now? No! The victor wasn't decided yet! It was far too early to talk of success or failure. A Great Rune alone meant nothing – their goal was precisely to take the Great Rune from its bearer!
"Only the Shardbearer's defeat can symbolize the greatness of the Soul of Cinder!" someone yelled.
"We are participating in the changing of Limgrave's ruler! The Southern Army must prevail—"
To the Crucible Knights' surprise, the rebels erupted with even greater fervor, refusing to consider the possibility of Frieren's failure. For now, at least, the Southern Army was holding firm under the pressure of their elite opponents. The battle at the main gate would continue until the decisive moment arrived.
In the deepest throne room.
The huge, grafted figure and the silver-haired girl exchanged blows rapidly at mid-range. Godrick even unleashed volleys of heavy crossbow bolts, each capable of grievously wounding a dragon, while Frieren countered with hundreds, thousands of Glintstone Pebbles. The ground cracked beneath their feet, fierce winds whipped through the air, and the once presumably grand hall became dilapidated and scarred. But it went further than that. The Abyssal power swirling around Godrick radiated a more terrifying corrosion, its influence seemingly spreading beyond the room, out towards the castle walls.
Boom!
A giant skeletal visage flashed momentarily around Godrick, suggesting the power of the bygone High Lord Wolnir resonated within him. Its spectral form briefly towered even over the castle walls. Onlookers could clearly see the clouds above gathering into a gloomy pall. From Stormveil's height, even distant Liurnia of the Lakes was visible... no, the Royal Capital upon the Altus Plateau would be even clearer.
"Yes! This is what I want you all to witness!" Godrick threw his head back and laughed maniacally. "Watch closely, all of you! No matter how far, no matter who you are! You must witness the heir of the Golden Dynasty ascend to his rightful peak!" The Abyss responded to his ambition, merging its power with that of the Great Rune, blessing his entire form. An unending stream of power flowed through his grafted limbs, making them thicker, stronger – even more grotesque than before, yet undeniably threatening.
Keeping her distance, Frieren frowned deeply. This was becoming troublesome. She remembered dealing with plenty of Abyss-related monstrosities back in 'Dark Souls 2.' Do I have to go through that again? Don't push it.
End this quickly.
Having made her decision, Frieren drank another healing flask. Although she was currently unharmed, she was about to overdraw her power and pay the price. Forcibly overlapping another 'account' across worlds placed a heavy burden, but it didn't matter. Right now, the magical power belonging to the 'Ashen One' intertwined with that of the 'Tarnished,' a connection so real, so palpable, it made her blood boil, igniting her immense magical reserves.
The one who had weathered countless battles unleashed her power.
VMMM!
An equally immense pressure surged forth, refusing to be outdone, rising to meet the heavens, towering even higher than Stormveil's walls, causing the spectral image of Wolnir to shrink back, seemingly afraid to meet its gaze. Sensing a primal fear emanating from this new power, Godrick turned back. Empowered by his new strength, he had begun to disdain the Tarnished challenger, but now... now he clearly saw a fiercely burning flame, a light that illuminated the world, a radiance so pure that even the Abyss could not defile the sanctuary beneath it.
"You reject the Abyss, merely a greedy monarch. Only by embracing the Abyss can you comprehend the path I once walked," Godrick seemed to imply.
"Spare me the talk from someone already defeated," Frieren cut him off coldly. "Let's end this grudge here and now."
Due to the world's rejection, Frieren couldn't actually use her 'Dark Souls' magic now, but the fundamental power was still there. Thus, she employed the simplest corresponding technique: Carian Slicer! Yet her motion was far grander: both hands raised high above her head, coalescing magic surged upwards from the earth, piercing the clouds and mist, scattering light like the dawn. The sheer pressure overwhelmed the perpetual howling winds of Stormhill; the very sounds of the world seemed to yield before it.
Everyone present was forced to look up to behold the majestic sight. Throughout the castle, soldiers on both sides paused mid-combat, overcome by a powerful sense of impending finality.
Far away, Margit, having already departed Stormveil, snapped back to awareness, staring grimly at the towering pillar of light in the distance. "The Golden Dynasty..." he murmured, "...is finally beginning to crumble."
At Ranni's Rise, the doll figure stirred from its slumber, gazing out the window towards the phenomenon. Carian royal sorcery... capable of such power?
"Tarn—ished—!" Godrick roared, utterly infuriated, channeling every last shred of power into the grafted dragon head on his left arm. He had no other options left. This was a battle for his very dignity, with no room for retreat. The Golden Monarch went all-in.
The next moment, their powers collided, obliterating everything else from view. A cataclysmic shockwave forced thousands of soldiers across the castle to throw themselves flat on the ground. The clash between these powerhouses generated waves of force that made it impossible to even stand. Who would emerge the victor?
CRACK!
High above, the great blade of light cleaved through the spectral black skull, tore apart the magic empowered by the Great Rune, and descended in a swift arc, finally striking the grafted dragon head, severing the aberrant left arm cleanly at its base.
It wasn't over. Frieren spun, delivering a powerful downward diagonal slash, carving a deep wound from Godrick's shoulder across his torso. The recently immense form of Godrick seemed to shrink by a third in an instant as vast quantities of Runes dispersed from him. His body shriveled as if rapidly dehydrating, collapsing limply onto the ground.
"...Why... why wasn't it enough...?" The cold of the flagstones seeped into him, chilling his very core. All his fervent ambition, his aspirations, his bitter resentment... none of it mattered anymore. Utterly defeated, Godrick couldn't even muster the energy to think. He watched blankly as the silver-haired girl drew a crimson blade, emanating an undeniable aura of absolute death, yet he couldn't even feel fear.
Frieren wasted no words, taking a ready stance. Even with her target dying, she focused her full intent, the blade's edge aimed squarely at the demigod's chest.
"Without Destined Death, it is difficult to grant you true death," Frieren stated. "But suppressing your life force permanently will suffice."
Mortal Draw—
In the instant the crimson blade passed through him, a great and potent life force vanished from the world. Runes flowed into Frieren, and the strange phenomena in the sky dissipated. At that moment, Stormveil Castle fell utterly silent.
...The storm had passed?
The fighting at the main gate ceased. Soldiers from both sides stopped, staring at each other in stunned silence, before simultaneously breaking into a run towards the inner throne room. The common soldiers were desperate to witness the outcome firsthand – partly for this historic moment they could be proud of, partly out of fear for their own fates, wondering who would now decide their destiny, and the destiny of all Limgrave.
A tide of soldiers streamed past the Farron Captain. He kept his gaze fixed on the two Crucible Knights before him, until they deliberately sheathed their weapons, showing no further hostility. For warriors of their caliber, the outcome of the battle within was already clear through their senses. Nearby, the Ancient Hero of Zamor, arriving with his blade ready to join the fray, realized it was already over.
"You seek no vengeance?" the Zamor Hero asked, surprised.
"Our Lord, Godrick the Golden, died in a fair duel," one of the Knights replied stoically. "He departed with honor. To treat this as a blood feud would only defile the aspirations of a Golden Scion who sought the Elden Ring. The battle for Stormveil Castle ends here. Perhaps one day our paths will cross in battle again. Until then, farewell." The two Crucible Knights turned and walked away. They had lost their reason to fight to the death here. It wasn't necessary. Only the memory of campaigning alongside the first Elden Lord in days long past could truly ignite their spirits to burn everything away; the current circumstances didn't warrant such sacrifice. Some soldiers still loyal to Godrick's memory departed with the two Knights; they couldn't remain in enemy-occupied territory anyway. For now, they would go their separate ways. But as long as they still walked the path of warriors, it was inevitable they would clash again someday.
After watching them depart for a long moment, the Farron Captain hefted his greatsword and followed the crowd towards the inner chamber, taking up the rear guard.
Before the throne.
Under the watchful eyes of the assembled crowd, the figure in silver hair and silver armor leaned on her staff, reached out a slender hand towards the demigod's remains, and gently coaxed forth a gleaming shard of gold. Godrick wasn't truly, finally dead, but the grievous wound inflicted by the Mortal Blade had left him fading, functionally no different from deceased. All that remained was to seal him away. Exit stage left.
In truth, the effect of the 'Gracious Gift of Tears' blade was similar to that of the Black Knives imbued with the Rune of Death, but the latter was far too dangerous and uncontrollable. This was a compromise. She now took possession of this core fragment of the Elden Ring – the Great Rune, The Lands Between's most revered symbol of legitimate power.
Obtained [Large Amount of Runes]. Refreshing available Mods for drawing...
Obtained [Remembrance of the Grafted]. Can be exchanged at the Roundtable Hold via the Two Fingers for Runes, or your choice of the Axe of Godrick or the Grafted Dragon.
Obtained [Godrick's Great Rune]. When activated with a Rune Arc, greatly increases all attributes for a short time...
A continuous stream of notifications sounded in Frieren's mind – frequent good news. For her, the direct power boost from the Great Rune itself wasn't paramount; she felt her 'account stacking' was more effective. What mattered were the two forms of legitimacy it granted.
First, she was now a legitimate Shardbearer. Second, the Great Rune might enable the use of more magic not native to The Lands Between, potentially allowing her soul magic research, in particular, to reach a whole new level.
She felt an impatient urge to begin her research immediately, but she restrained herself. The priority now was to address the expectations of her followers, to firmly establish her position as the monarch of Limgrave and finally put the Southern Army's anxieties to rest. Solemnly, she raised the Great Rune high, letting its golden radiance shine forth, as if holding aloft a crown.
The light was dazzling!
"As of now, I am the Castellan of Stormveil!" Frieren declared, her voice ringing through the hall. "Those defenders who fought against us – if you are willing to pledge loyalty now, I am willing to forgive past transgressions. What is your choice?"
"We willingly submit, Your Majesty!" came the reply as the remaining defenders knelt. Based on the Golden Lineage's hierarchy, Godrick would have been addressed as 'His Highness.' However, monarchs outside that lineage who established their own rule were exceptions. At this moment, Frieren was the Shardbearer, the ruling monarch. It was merely a change of masters, a common occurrence in The Lands Between – even many who served under the old Storm Lord had eventually joined the Golden Order. Their submission signified that the combined forces of Limgrave and the Weeping Peninsula, the core strength of the southern regions, had now unified under her banner. Resources comparable to those of several nations were now aligned with this newcomer Tarnished. She was, in name and reality, a true monarch.
"Very well. Do not move just yet—" Frieren held the Great Rune in one hand, then tapped it with the staff in her other, drawing forth a trail of light. Immediately, she cast her unique miracle: Soul Healing.
A radiance comparable to the Erdtree's own light filled Stormveil Castle, dissolving into a gentle rain of shimmering motes. Anyone touched by the light felt instantly refreshed, heartened, and the troubling signs of creeping undeath were suppressed, even reversed. Minor scrapes and pains vanished entirely; in an instant, their condition was restored. The amplification provided by the Great Rune allowed Frieren's own powerful base attributes to finally be fully utilized in this world; previously, the limitations had been quite troublesome.
"Wonderful! I feel restored!"
"The signs of undeath... they're fading!"
A wave of joyous relief swept through the crowd, including Gatekeeper Gostoc. Many were moved to tears. "I can hold on longer now... perhaps welcoming the Erdtree's true bounty is possible after all!" The entire castle erupted in cheers, more potent than any material reward. It felt like salvation. Lady Frieren had brought a change The Lands Between had never known. In that moment, their loyalty became absolute.
Frieren glanced towards the figure only she could see. Melina, who had been watching anxiously from the sidelines, let out a sigh of relief. "That was truly perilous. If only I could have assisted... But regardless, you succeeded."
Had it only been just over a month since their first meeting at the Chapel of Anticipation? This Tarnished had advanced triumphantly, now commanding a regional hegemony – an outcome no one could have predicted. Not even Melina, who had accompanied her every step of the way. Amidst round after round of astonishing feats brought about by Frieren, the moment of victory had arrived.
"...If it's you," Melina mused, "given time, you will surely reach the Royal Capital and stand before the Elden Ring. Besides, it is said that possessing two Great Runes is the key to breaking the seal that guards the capital."
"One step at a time," Frieren replied. She felt sleepy. All she wanted was a good, long rest. Perhaps when she woke up, the new Cloud Save Mod would appear; based on past experience, completing a major early-game chapter often unlocked the ability to save at will.
However, Melina gestured towards the throne room. "You should go to the throne. It may only be ceremonial, but it will reassure the people."
The other Tarnished were perhaps the most expectant. After all, their colleague becoming a Shardbearer reflected honor upon them all. At the very least, activities in the Limgrave region would become much easier. Perhaps they could even establish a proper regional base connected to the Roundtable Hold, rather than always being confined to the inconvenient sanctuary of the Great Grace.
Just then, Kenneth Haight managed to squeeze his way through the crowd. "Your Majesty! We are already commissioning a new crown! The coronation ceremony will be arranged swiftly. For now, why don't you rest for a moment in the throne room?"
"Such a bother," Frieren muttered under her breath. Despite her words, she went along gracefully, walking down the flagstone path under the thousands of expectant gazes. Arriving before the throne, she realized just how massive it was, clearly built for Godrick's augmented size. Do they expect me to adopt a form enhanced by the Rune to fit? Even if she could, she wasn't accustomed to it. So, she simply stood on her tiptoes and gave a light leap, settling onto the huge seat. She sat with her legs neatly together, hands placed properly on her lap, looking rather prim and proper. Melina's eyebrow twitched slightly; so the Tarnished did have an awkward side, likely unused to being the center of attention for so many people. The others, however, paid no attention to such details, perceiving only the majestic and imposing aura of her magic.
Amidst Frieren's completely undisguised expression of boredom, Kenneth Haight, standing beside the throne, raised his voice in a flamboyant proclamation:
"Hear ye, hear ye! I hereby declare—"
"The region of Limgrave welcomes its rightful sovereign, worthy of legitimate rule! Queen Frieren shall lead us on the path to mend the Elden Ring! A new Order shall usher in an age of abundance! Long live the Queen!"
The next moment, earth-shaking cheers erupted throughout the castle.
_____________
🎯 NEW GOAL: Reach 30 SUBSCRIBERS on patreon and unlock an incredible 10 BONUS CHAPTERS! 🤯📖
PLUS, don't forget our PowerStone & Review Campaign! 🌟 Every 100 PowerStones OR 5 Reviews = 1 EXTRA CHAPTER! ✍️💎
👻 Join the awesome journey: patreon.com/Walnutchan ✨