Elden Ring : Godrick The Golden

P.S: P@treon shall resume tmrw or day after depending on how long it takes to cook up the latest chapter. :)

***

[Night Cavalry Killed. +7000 EXP]

Pieces of brain matter and Night Cavalry skull covered his torso, but Godrick paid it no heed as he set down the Dragon Slayer, the decapitated and impaled body rolling off the cast-iron blade.

Heated steam escaped his mouth as the brutal gash on his side slowly knit itself back together. Lansseax had warned him that Morgott was gunning for his head, but he hadn't expected to get jumped in Liurnia, so far away from the Altus Plateau.

Just where were they hiding? Did they follow us, or were they stationed here?

"My Lord, we have failed you."

Godrick stopped his musing, opening his eyes to see his troops kneeling before him, bloodied, injured, and ashamed. Forthus glared at his limp arm while Gilika's wounds nearly bled her to death—if the sun had not set or she didn't possess his Blessing, she would have long perished.

Gromm and Grimm had passed out from their injuries after using their bodies to shield the others, while only Earnan came out of the battle with just a few scratches, his skill with the blade outshining all of them.

The air of defeat and anger hung over all of them, especially the Demi-Humans, who had lost nearly three-fourths of their numbers. Nearly all the whelps had been brutally slaughtered by the Leyndell Forces, and Gilika's eyes burned with rage.

"We were not strong enough," Forthus spat, gritting his teeth hard enough to draw blood. "Forgive our weakness."

"We have no excuse," Earnan added, placing his sword on the ground with finality.

Godrick swept his gaze across his soldiers. They had been cut down from nearly two hundred to a meagre fifty, but he guessed it was enough motivation for them to grow stronger.

"Do not be sorry," Godrick spoke, brushing parts of the Night Cavalry's intestine off his cloak. "Be better."

[Heal]

With a wave of his hand, a large wave of gold washed over his troops, knitting their wounds and bringing them back to respectable health.

"I hath warned thee of Morgott's malice, and now thou hast seen and felt it with thine own eyes and body alike. Morgott, the Fell Omen's machinations are neither cunning nor bold, but cowardly," Godrick began. "He remains holed up in the shadow of the Erdtree, devoted to an Order that scorns him still. A slave who loves his master. But despite his wretched condition, he and his champions are strong, and strength alone is what matters."

His troops stirred, murmuring in disbelief, realizing the truth—that Morgott and Margit were one and the same. They knew that if such a truth ever surfaced, Leyndell would crumble from within.

"Strength which ye all lack."

The soldiers cast their eyes down in shame.

"Strength that I shall bestow upon those worthy."

They looked up, hope rekindled in their hearts.

"It shall take time. Hone thy skills, prove thy worth, and my blessing, my strength shall be thine!"

As if on cue, the golden cocoon in his Soulspace cracked and bloomed.

([Soulbound Weapon Upgrade Complete]

[Golden Seed (Fragment of Rune of Life) Integrated]

[Amber Starlight Shard Integrated]

[Crystral Greatspear -> Amber Greatspear (Lotted Life)

-Starlight Reprisal (Active) Level 1: Divide Fate itself, creating a deceptive afterimage that mimics the wielder's movements for 10 seconds. Possesses all of the stats of the user. Only one afterimage can be used at a time.

-Vigor's Embrace (Passive): Those who bear the Rune of Life experience constant regeneration. The greater the damage inflicted, the faster the recovery. However, the bearer's spirit is bound to the cycle, never truly free from the pain of the wounds they endure. Only applicable when holding the Greatspear.])

In a blinding flash of dark gold, his Amber Greatspear appeared in his hand, and his wounds vanished in an instant. Intense vigor flowed into his massive body as he admired the new form of his trusty weapon.

It had grown in size, reaching a mighty 12 feet, the stark blue glintstone replaced by the ethereal gold of the Amber Starlight shard. It looked like a beautifully carved piece of pale amber ripped away from the tapestry of reality.

Beautiful lines of greenish-gold gilded the Greatspear, akin to arteries pumping blood. He presumed it was Lotted Life, the antithesis to Destined Death, though he'd never known that the Golden Seeds were fragments of the Rune of Life.

Shaking himself out of the sudden influx of information, he raised his Greatspear in the air before his wide-eyed troops.

"To Glory and Eternal Dominion!"

That closed their slack-jawed mouths and injected them with new energy.

"To Glory and Eternal Dominion!"

"To Glory and Eternal Dominion!"

***

Burying the dead took a while, but it was good for morale. He did it himself, not out of sudden altruism, but because the fire in his troops' eyes was now kindled with both a yearning for power and shame.

The sight of a demigod burying dozens of Demi-Human whelps struck a chord with everyone present, especially when they felt it was their fault.

If that was not wondrous enough, Godrick's body occasionally flickered, splitting off into another form that allowed him to do twice the work in the same amount of time. It didn't last long and took half a minute to cast again, but its potential was nearly endless.

Godrick regrouped and gathered his forces, adding yet another Deathroot to his arsenal, one he found in the Night Cavalry's pocket—the remains of the Tibia Mariner—and set off on the final stretch of his long journey.

***

One week passed, and they came across a small group of crabs, including one of the larger variety, in a small pond ecosystem surrounded by giant trees. Gilika, Earnan, and Forthus took it upon themselves to slay it. Godrick had a faint suspicion that they still held a grudge against the crab in the Catacombs but enjoyed the fight nonetheless.

He had even begun his study of the Dragon Cult Prayerbook.

While both the Golden Order Spellbook and the Dragon Cult Prayerbook spoke of their faith, the Prayerbook was far less organized than the Spellbook, its codes and prayers more intuitive.

The difference was intriguing and laid the foundation for the religion he was planning to build around himself.

Flipping to the spells he was most eager to study, he was taken aback.

[Lightning Spear] and all the spells in the Prayerbook were nearly an entirely different school of magic. Since ordinary mortals could not wield Ancient Dragon Lightning without spontaneously combusting, Godwyn the Golden had modified the incantation.

While Godrick directly pulled Ancient Dragon Lightning from his [Greater Blessing of Lansseax] and shaped it into an incantation, the Dragon Cult Prayerbook extracted lightning from their [Blessing of Lansseax] through the medium of the Greater Will's energy, transfusing it into pure gold.

It sacrificed the immense power and force of red-gold lightning for lesser cost and mortality.

Take not the easy path, lest thou wish to fall to the Dread's kin.

Was this what Lansseax meant? Did he need to transform the incantation to use [Lightning Spear] with Ancient Dragon Lightning?

Godrick closed the Prayerbook with a sigh.

Power did not come easy.

***

Three weeks later, the landscape began to change, the jagged rock formations that were previously commonplace shrinking in size and number.

They came across a tall statue of Rosus, and it was then that he first laid eyes on what he had been chasing for the past year.

A castle loomed above the cliffs in the far, far distance, a jagged silhouette against the darkened sky.

Its ancient stone walls, cracked and weathered by centuries of relentless winds, stretched far into the horizon, forming a labyrinth of towers and battlements that seemed to reach toward the heavens. Each tower was a fortress in itself, crowned with menacing golden spikes, as though the castle's very architecture was forged for war.

His soldiers and Demi-Humans gaped at the superstructure in the distance. They had heard tales of it on their long journey, but seeing it in person stopped even the most grizzled veteran.

At its heart, the grand keep rose higher still, its windows narrow slits glaring down at the Lands Between like a watchful, malignant eye. Beneath it, the earth trembled with the weight of the castle's unshakable foundation, sinking into the cliffside as though anchored by the very bones of the world.

Beyond the walls, the howling winds carried the roar of the ocean crashing against the cliffs. It was said that despite its defeat, the Storm King's cries could still be heard from across the grave.

"Stormveil," Earnan smiled, gripping the sheath of his sword in excitement. His comrades were there, and he couldn't wait to meet them again.

So much had happened. Their Lord was now a Demigod, Harbinger of Lotted Life and the Conqueror of the Frenzied Flame. They had fought countless battles, bled together, and grown stronger as a unit. And now, standing before the fortress of Stormveil, they knew that everything they had endured was leading them to this moment.

The Rise of Godrick the Golden was imminent.

It was inevitable.

***

End of Volume II (Weight of Gold)