The amount of information from that conversation with Ranni was overwhelming. It was all fragmented, often just keywords, and it wasn't clear what was important or not. I can't piece it together right now.
Regardless, Frieren had identified a path leading to one ending.
But it's pointless to think too far ahead. Even setting aside other endings, what players called the richest and longest side quest definitely wouldn't be easy. My current Astrologer account probably isn't strong enough...
The silver-haired girl, lost in thought, left The Three Sisters, slowly walking out of the manor and away from the area enveloped by the large-scale magic formation.
A breeze from the lake region blew towards her.
"Frieren, we need to talk."
Melina, who had been silent until now, finally appeared, her expression as serious as when they first met.
"Why are you so insistent on helping me? Creating a body for me? And why are you so concerned about my mission? It's... unnecessary. You are Tarnished, and I am a witch. This kind of intervention goes beyond the scope of our agreement."
"Do you dislike it?"
"I don't dislike it, but it shouldn't be. I believe this is very dangerous."
"It's not dangerous at all. You're only afraid because the world feels too unfamiliar to you."
Frieren stepped forward to take her hand, but her own passed right through the spirit form.
"You see? It's because you haven't touched, haven't felt the clear contours of this world. The winds of Limgrave, the waters of Liurnia – have you truly experienced them? If you don't understand the Lands Between, how can you know what your mission truly entails?"
"Melina, I simply want you to witness it with me. Understanding all of this is a prerequisite to mending the Elden Ring. I need your guidance, as always."
Truthfully, the emotions of an elven race probably wouldn't be stirred by a witch's sacrifice, but she didn't want that.
Wrong.
The people of the elven village said Frieren's magic was full of vitality, burning with intense emotions and boundless imagination, no less than that of the short-lived races. Everyone thought it was because she was young; in reality, this part of her training stemmed from her strongest game-like magic. It was experience that had armed her.
Therefore, she shouldn't be a dull-witted elf.
If anyone around her was to be sacrificed, she had to prevent it. This was inherently her path of magical cultivation.
Whether she understood Melina's so-called mission or not, she absolutely would not allow a sacrifice. As for the truths hidden behind it, there was plenty of time to uncover them slowly.
"..."
Feeling the Tarnished's resolute demeanor, Melina was actually swayed.
Thinking about it carefully, if she had a body, she could indeed be of more help. With her extensive experience, handling administrative affairs would be no problem. Besides, Melina possessed some combat ability; the potent power within her was undeniably real.
Even without releasing the seal on her eye, she could make the Tarnished invincible with healing incantations alone. Together, they would surely be stronger.
"You've thought of it too, haven't you? There's no downside to having a body, which is why I want to do this," Frieren coaxed.
"You're right. In that case, I can help share some of your burdens. That is, after all, one of a witch's duties."
"Then it's settled."
"Alright."
The two, sharing a tacit understanding, simultaneously set aside a certain matter, avoiding discussion of it.
Melina was certain that Patches' deliberate revelation of Bernahl's witch's story had definitely affected Frieren. At the very least, Frieren had guessed that Melina too might be heading towards some sacrificial goal. It just wasn't time for a confrontation, so they remained at peace for now.
Indulging in a bit of wishful thinking, perhaps the Tarnished hoped to find an alternative solution during this time.
They didn't intend to delve deeper into the topic, but the distance between them had undoubtedly shortened. In a way, it had been a heart-to-heart discussion, more than just a purely cooperative relationship.
The spirit steed, Torrent, appeared upon being summoned.
As soon as it materialized, it neighed spiritedly, majestic and proud, as if celebrating the candid exchange between the two partners.
Frieren swung herself onto the horse, then pulled out a map and said, "There's no time to lose. Let's go find the Academy key. Then we'll circle the Academy for reconnaissance before preparing for a frontal assault."
"Let's go."
Melina grasped the offered hand and settled behind Frieren on the spirit steed. The next moment, Torrent galloped off at full speed, full of energy.
She couldn't help but breathe in the scent of flowers on the wind, though sadly, she couldn't touch them. Frieren's words just now had indeed struck a chord; she really should experience more of this world. Her experiences before meeting the Tarnished had been too shallow, filled with knowledge but lacking in true feeling.
She could demand strength from herself, knowing she would eventually be sacrificed, but she couldn't let that neglect her supportive abilities. At the very least, she had to help her partner reach the Royal Capital.
The two set off towards the rising sun. The dense fog dissipated, revealing the magnificent vista of the lake.
Lush vegetation and landscapes complemented each other, with structures rising amidst them. In the distance, the Altus Plateau adorned the otherwise monotonous horizon, exuding an air of grandeur and majesty.
Liurnia of the Lakes was indeed vast and breathtaking.
The vast land beneath their feet had accommodated the Carian Royal Family and the Academy of Raya Lucaria. It had also witnessed the Golden Army at its zenith. Each had left indelible marks that even time could not erase.
All of it was in the past.
A new era welcomed new witnesses. This moment belonged only to the two of them, the entirety of the scene laid out before their eyes.
Torrent slowed its pace, exiting Caria Manor, then found a gentle slope and leaped down to the lake region.
Descending from high to low, they encountered more mist. Their vision grew hazy, yet it added a dreamlike quality to the surroundings. The indistinct shapes of plants drew one's attention to minute details; even the carvings on the ruins, amidst the scattered bricks and tiles, captured the eye.
Because the spirit steed slowed down after entering the lake, this stretch of the journey took the better part of a day. However, neither Melina nor Frieren, both preoccupied with their thoughts, paid much mind to the delay.
"The Crystalline Woods are ahead. We're close to the spot marked on the map."
"Another dragon?"
The silver-haired girl squinted, shading her eyes with her hand. Sure enough, a dragon was fast asleep next to a corpse that held a key.
Melina murmured, "Perhaps because the Carian Royal Family once made a pact with dragons, there are quite a few of them here."
"Should we wait until dark to fight? To avoid alerting the Academy and having them stop us?" Suddenly, Frieren had a flash of inspiration. "I have another method. Let's try for a quick victory."
The next moment, she urged Torrent forward, rapidly closing the distance.
Torrent responded to Frieren's command with courage, charging towards the dragon. The latter, hearing the commotion, lazily turned its head, unsure of what was happening.
Hoarfrost Mist!
A dense fog, filled with chilling air, obscured its vision. Seeing this, alarm bells rang in the dragon's mind, and it attempted to take flight. But it immediately discovered that the mist was laden with fine ice crystals, making it too heavy; the air itself seemed to solidify.
The next moment, Frieren unleashed another new spell: Glintstone Icecrag.
What would have been an ordinary spell wielded by others displayed entirely different power in her hands. It instantly froze a part of the lake, the spreading ice crystals crackling as they encased the target.
The completely bewildered dragon was frozen into a statue, unable to move, still not comprehending what had happened.
So fast!
Melina knew better than anyone that Frieren was using newly learned magic on the fly. How could its power be so exaggerated? And this spell wasn't supposed to have such an effect, was it?
It was as if any magic, once in her hands, transformed into a high-output, wide-area-of-effect powerhouse.
"Unfortunately, it's my first time using it, so I'm not skilled enough."
Fine cracks appeared on the surface of the dragon ice sculpture before them, and icicles began to flake off. Clearly, it couldn't hold a powerful creature for long. Although there were ways to maintain ordinary magic, the efficiency was too low, so the amount of magic power she had infused wasn't as much as it seemed on the surface.
Thus, the dragon managed to mobilize its own power in time to protect its body and withstand the initial wave. The next moment, it completely shattered the ice, its vertical pupils filled with rage, reflecting Frieren's figure.
Dragon breath—
However, it distinctly saw the silver-haired girl meet the magic head-on, which then coalesced into an immense sword of light.
Carian Retaliation.
Immediately after, the blade struck between its scales, effortlessly tearing through muscle, sending blood splashing.
It wasn't over. A Carian Phalanx immediately rose around it, dozens of blades piercing its body. This was more adept at offense than the Glintblade Phalanx, with superior penetration power for each individual blade. Even the dragon was riddled with wounds.
In a single exchange, it was already on the brink of death. It never imagined that an opponent who attacked so suddenly would be this strong, even more terrifying than those Academy sorcerers.
The dragon still tried to crawl away, but unexpectedly, the silver-haired girl showed no intention of pursuing. Instead, she stood her ground, clenching and unclenching her fists, seemingly savoring the sensations of the different spells... Could it be that this person was purely experimenting? How utterly deranged.
Then, she raised her arms high, and a blue blade surged with power, growing ever larger.
Carian Grandeur!
The colossal sword of light bisected the target from head to tail. Blood rained down upon the lake as the dragon collapsed. The impact caused a light shower of blood and water from the sky, fortunately concealed by the ice mist, preventing exposure.
If she hadn't withdrawn her power in time, she probably could have cleaved the surrounding lake water or even vaporized it.
"This spell has a good damage multiplier. It should be easy to stack damage."
The well-versed Frieren immediately noticed the extraordinary aspect of Carian Grandeur: its charged damage was considerable. That left only one problem:
Accuracy.
It wasn't easy to find an opening against enemies of comparable strength, but it should be sufficient as an opening gambit. Paired with magic that could briefly immobilize an enemy, it would be practically unstoppable, guaranteed to overwhelm any foe.
"The Carian Royal Family is indeed wealthy."
A short journey in the manor had yielded almost as many spells as she had collected previously, and practically for free. It truly deserved its reputation as the sanctuary holding the most magic in the world.
Frieren felt the Runes flow into her from the slain dragon, convinced that her power would grow by leaps and bounds in Liurnia of the Lakes.
"You're truly a genius. Few people can use magic immediately after learning it."
"Well, I've seen many different kinds of magic. It's a matter of grasping the underlying principles."
"Easier said than done..."
In any case, Melina was no longer surprised by the Tarnished's magical talent. She also had a bit more confidence in Frieren's so-called research into the secret art of creating life; it would probably work. After all, besides her, there likely wasn't another sane demigod sorcerer in the entire Lands Between. She was irreplaceable.
Meanwhile, Frieren found the key on the corpse. It felt heavy in her hand, covered in traces of warding magic.
That's right.
Anyone who had seen the seal at the entrance of the Academy of Raya Lucaria would know the two were connected; this key could surely open it.
"Next, shall we investigate the surroundings first?"
"Correct." The silver-haired girl gazed into the distance. "And I've sensed it since sunset: there's an aura of death to the east of the Academy. Contamination might occur, leading to the appearance of Those Who Live in Death. We can't ignore it."
The two exchanged a glance, nodded, and then set off. After all, these monsters were a common threat faced by the entire Lands Between; they should be eliminated upon encounter.
At the Academy's main gate defense line, a large contingent of Cuckoo Knights had assembled. Iron hooves trampled through water plants, banners fluttered, and the air was filled with the sound of scraping metal armor.
They had come by invitation to jointly resist the covetously watching Southern Army.
Excess personnel were constructing fortifications on the spot, surrounding the gate's defense line with multiple layers, leaving no weaknesses.
The Academy's strategy was to relinquish control of the surrounding areas.
Their focus was on contracting their defenses, especially by creating as many magical barriers as possible. After all, they knew all too well the destructive power a demigod sorcerer could unleash. Setting up large formations was suicidal; they needed to create layered buffer zones.
The leader of the Cuckoo Knights dismounted and said coldly, "I don't understand how you all ended up in this situation, provoking a newly risen Shardbearer so early on."
The sorcerers looked embarrassed.
Finally, Aiken said somberly, "Don't be so quick to blame us. The Cuckoo Knights won't escape this either."
According to reports from spies who had observed Caria Manor for years, that always forthright Ember Lord had most likely contacted the royal family. Since no war broke out, it was assumed an agreement had been reached.
Besides, it was obvious even to a fool that an aspiring Lord and a demigod had grounds for cooperation.
Now, the Lord of Limgrave had a series of reasons to deal with these schemers: to reclaim her master's school's status, to claim a Great Rune, to conquer Liurnia of the Lakes, to avenge her future partner, and so on.
In any case, it definitely wouldn't end peacefully. All that remained was to fight and hold firm.
"You won't be able to hold out for long. Your opponent is a demigod. Sooner or later, she'll break through the Academy of Raya Lucaria's defenses."
"She won't."
"What strategy do you have left at this point?"
The leader of the Cuckoo Knights suddenly saw a Night's Cavalryman visit. He rode his warhorse leisurely past the defense line. Though alone, the aura of a heroic powerhouse made everyone tense, and the scene fell silent.
He didn't need to introduce himself; everyone in the Lands Between knew that the subordinates of the Fell Omen represented the Royal Capital.
"The Grace-Given King's army has already assembled outside the Grand Lift. If necessary, they can reinforce Liurnia of the Lakes, provided you agree to lower your magical defenses."
"Aren't you confronting the Southern Army on the eastern side? You can't spare the troops, can you?"
"They're just a rabble from the south. Besides Frieren and the Abyss Watchers of Farron, no one can stop our advance. If necessary, we can annihilate Limgrave's army at any time. Outside of Stormveil Castle, they pose no threat."
The Night's Cavalryman's straightforward words struck a blow to their hearts.
No one would underestimate the Royal Capital's resources. The Tree Sentinels, the Leyndell Knights of the Golden Tree faith, the Ancient Dragon Cult Knights, the Perfumers, the Offspring of Omens, the Crucible Knights, the Gargoyles, and so many other legions were almost countless—enough to overwhelm a demigod.
If not for the exceedingly solid core strength of Leyndell's forces, possessing innumerable heroes and not giving the demigods a chance to create a power vacuum, it would have fallen long ago.
Now, the Grace-Given King had chosen to dispatch a portion of his forces to suppress the Southern Army and was also extending an olive branch to the Academy of Raya Lucaria.
Should they accept it?
Admittedly, the terms were tempting, but wouldn't it be like inviting wolves into their house?
The Cuckoo Knights were all too familiar with the trick of 'the cuckoo occupying the magpie's nest.'
It was practically their specialty, allowing them to gain a firm foothold in the Liurnia of the Lakes region and become a military force that couldn't be ignored.
Although they lacked powerful core combatants, when it came to their large scale, wide distribution, and extensive infiltration, even the Night's Cavalry had to think twice. This wasn't the core area of the Altus Plateau.
Aiken exchanged a look with the Knight Commander.
He said grimly, "How can we be sure the Grace-Given King's army won't conquer the Academy as well?"
"If that Lord had such intentions, he would have flattened the lake region years ago."
"Don't give me that. Ultimately, we have no reason to let you inside our defensive barriers. You can fight Stormveil Castle's army on the eastern highlands. Defeating them would also relieve the siege on the Academy."
"Right."
The Cuckoo Knights also voiced their support. Since they had already 'boarded the carriage' and secured their position, how could they leave an opening for latecomers?
The Night's Cavalryman shook his head regretfully.
A bunch of cowards, and they didn't even trust the promises of the Golden Dynasty. They were clearly treacherous people judging others by their own standards. Should such individuals be allowed to hinder the restoration of the Lands Between?
Frieren was immeasurably better by comparison, but alas, that wasn't for him to consider.
"Could you perhaps reveal the source of your vigilance?"
"You seem like an honest person, and you can probably relay a message to the Grace-Given King, so I'll be frank..."
Aiken said gravely, "The worst-case scenario is simply being conquered. Many of us would die, but the Academy would survive, perhaps even becoming a supporter of the new Lord. After all, Frieren is clearly ambitious for that position, and more and more people are gathering around her."
"Everyone knows investing in her has a future. A Shardbearer dedicated to mending the world, who has openly declared her goals—it's all above board."
"It's not that I'm slandering the Grace-Given King, but he's too mysterious and has no ambition to claim the throne. How can that put us at ease?"
The cards were on the table.
There were too many factors for distrust.
It was a simple principle: one follows a monarch to be rewarded for their merits later, sharing in the glory. What was the benefit of following someone who explicitly stated they wouldn't claim the throne? To wait for the inevitable victor to settle accounts? Only a fool would do that.
Before, there was no choice. Everyone gave face to the Grace-Given King, considering he possessed the Royal Capital. But now things were different; a second option had emerged, making people waver.
"Hey, what's with your silence? Why doesn't the Grace-Given King take the throne?"
"That is not for you to know."
The Night's Cavalryman turned to leave, adding a final instruction, "We will coordinate with your actions on the eastern side to pincer the Southern Army."
The Academy group left behind were variously scornful, worried, or smug, but none of them cared what would happen to the Grace-Given King. Though his power was great, he had no connection to kingship and would never be an investment target, so they didn't bother considering him.
After seeing off the Night's Cavalryman, Guard Captain Henris sneered, "You academics never intended to fight to the bitter end from the start, did you?"
"Of course."
"And I almost believed that nonsense about defending to the death."
Aiken smiled. "To put it bluntly, the current faction in power at the Academy isn't the type to hold fast. What do we have to protect? In this world, only four armies still possess the strength to fight for protection."
"Are you referring to the Royal Capital Army, the Southern Army, the Redmane Army, and the Haligtree Army?"
So, they were actually hoping for a bloodbath in eastern Liurnia. A frustrated Frieren would be forced to offer more favorable terms, and the indecisive Grace-Given King wouldn't even dream of touching the lake region—the best of both worlds for them.
The bustle at the Academy's gate continued, with both sorcerers and warriors busy constructing layer upon layer of defenses.
It was merely to make any attacker pay a price, thereby raising their own bargaining power. No matter which external conqueror arrived, the Academy would still stand.
Eastern Liurnia, near the Grand Lift.
The Night's Cavalryman, having rushed back without stopping, rode straight in. The military formations on both sides parted to make way, revealing Tree Sentinels, Gargoyles, Night's Cavalry, and a large number of regular soldiers—an army of twenty thousand, vast and seemingly endless.
If one included abysmal creatures like Trolls and Husks, used purely for manual labor and transport, the number would double.
He even wondered how Limgrave's cobbled-together army planned to fight.
Back then, even the demigods had to form an allied army of lords to attack the Royal Capital, and they were still repelled. Now, even without the protection of city walls, their field combat strength was the strongest in the world, not to be provoked.
He rode deep into the encampment, reaching the main camp set up near the Grand Lift. Dismounting, he entered the most luxurious main tent.
Margit, seated in the main position, was looking through documents.
The guards flanking him were mainly his trusted Night's Cavalry; other Leyndell Knights even kept their distance.
What a pity.
Ultimately, it was only through the so-called Grace-Given King's command that they could barely mobilize troops, coupled with the reputation earned by the Fell Omen. Otherwise, one couldn't expect the Royal Capital's army to obey.
For defending the city, they had limitless motivation.
For attacking, they were barely adequate, but what they lacked most was an absolute core commander.
The Royal Capital Army would at best follow an Offspring of the Omen to proactively defend and attack up to the Grand Lift area. Going further would mean facing danger, and the Leyndell Knights were unwilling to place so much trust in Margit, a blasphemous existence.
"Reporting, we've received the Academy's reply..."
Hearing this, a troubled expression appeared on Margit's face. He was especially regretful when the message relaying their insinuation—goading him to claim kingship—was conveyed. Being a guardian was enough for him; he shouldn't continue to overstep.
He gazed south. Stormhawks, the eyes of the Southern Army, occasionally flew across the sky.
A standoff?
In reality, at most, there were minor skirmishes between reconnaissance scouts from both sides. Frieren had likely ordered her forces to advance only to the area below Stormveil Castle, not even leaving the range covered by its fortifications. Therefore, their sole objective was to create a diversion.
To prevent the Royal Capital Army from easily entering Liurnia of the Lakes, thus buying time for the Ember Lord's independent actions.
Margit asked, "Do you think the Academy of Raya Lucaria can hold out?"
"Definitely. Back then, even the Golden Army at its peak, along with Lord Radagon, couldn't conquer it after a long siege. One can imagine the Academy's defensive capabilities."
"It will take a very long time, at least."
"Moreover, I believe that given Frieren's temperament, she won't adopt aggressive, destructive assault tactics, which will only make it slower."
Opinions varied, with different perspectives, but everyone agreed that the Academy of Raya Lucaria wouldn't fall quickly. A newly risen demigod, with her current resources and combat strength, couldn't crack it, not to mention the many natural barriers in the lake region.
If that place were truly easy to attack, both sides would have dispatched large armies long ago. Wasn't it because of factors like rampant powerful creatures, numerous ruins, and widespread flooding...?
After a moment of contemplation, Margit made a final decision:
"Have the troops advance. Primarily deploy reconnaissance squads to probe the Southern Army. We can't let them rest too peacefully."
"As you command."
________
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