Godrick had gotten used to being nine feet tall over the past week, looking down at Earnan, who was quite the large man. But now, as he stared at a similarly nine-foot muscled behemoth with pitch-black armour and a flesh-rending flail, wreathed in black smoke, he couldn't help but feel a tad bit intimidated.
On the other hand, Godrick stood with a gilded spear, his body wreathed in gold.
"Why art thou here?" Godrick announced, slamming the spear into the earth in a show of anger, but subtly positioning himself before his blood-grown creation. "I have no quarrel with Margit the Fell."
The Night Cavalry ignored him, dashing forward with a speed his mind could perceive perfectly, but his body couldn't react to. All he managed to do was tilt his body so that the Cavalry's weapon wouldn't rip his heart out.
The flail rammed into his side, the metal spikes cutting through muscle and the weight behind the strike crushing bone. He was blasted backwards, copious amounts of blood and flesh spilling onto the soil, which greedily snapped it up, the sacramental buds trembling in joy.
HP (200/200 -> 77/200)
He dropped to the ground, half his body missing, as pain attempted to overwhelm his mind. Even still, his flesh and bone began to slowly regenerate, attempting to fuse back into one whole, but his blood loss was fighting against his talisman's power, reducing it to 1 HP/s.
He forced himself back to consciousness to find the Night Cavalry standing over him, ready to finish the job.
"Hold thy hand! Morgott is in danger!" he yelled out, using the tears he produced in pain to emulate terror.
The clawed gauntlet hovered above his throat, and the Night Cavalry tilted its head, letting out a bestial gurgle.
"It's true. Why else dost thou think I ran here?" Godrick intentionally stumbled over his words before pointing at the Amber Starlight Shard with a trembling hand. "That... thing gave me a vision... a vision of the fate of the very gods..."
The dark gold eyes behind the helmet narrowed.
"A revelation like no other..."
The black knight leaned closer.
"The Elden Ring... is a unicorn."
"Hrh?!" The Cavalry gurgled in confusion before being blinded by a flash of dark gold.
(EXP 460/1600 -> Gained 1 stat point and 1 skill point)
A fully recovered Godrick acted swiftly, seizing the Sacramental bud he had transformed into a Bewitching Branch. He thrust it into the Knight's armpit, where it met the black chainmail. Fortunately, the Bewitching Branch was a condensed incantation that required only contact. The sharp tip of the branch pierced through just enough to graze the skin beneath.
[Observe]
[Bewitching Branch: Tree branch blessed with an incantation of unalloyed gold. Pierce a foe, using FP to turn them into a temporary ally. The Empyrean Miquella is loved by many people. Indeed, he has learned very well how to compel such affection.]
Slipping a stream of FP into the branch, he felt himself take control of another mind. It felt alien yet familiar. Unsettling yet comfortable. Absolute control. Is this what Miquella could do to people? He dragged himself out of his thoughts, kicking away a Land Octopus that had gotten too curious before making the Night's Cavalry unmask himself.
An unassuming pale face with dark gold pupils greeted him. Miniature omen horns grew from the back of it's head and eyebrows. He expected to see hate or anger in its eyes, but all he saw was love and admiration.
'Miquella uses love to shrive clean the hearts of men,' he recalled a quote, picking up his Greatspear. 'There is nothing more terrifying.'
Knowing that he only had a limited amount of time, he used the blade on his spear to slowly saw off the Night Cavalry head. It continued to stare at him with love as he did so, blood and gore flowing down its chest—the Grace in its eyes fading as he fully decapitated it.
[Night Cavalry killed. +7000 EXP]
As its body thudded to the ground, Godrick went to work, ignoring the fact that he was slathered in a mix of blood and mud, stripping it of any valuables.
[Observe]
[Night Cavalry Armor: Pitch-black armour thinly painted with dried blood. Worn by the Night's Cavalry who ride funeral steeds. The Night's Cavalry, who now wander the dim roads at night, were once led by the Fell Omen and were deliverers of death for great warriors, knights, and champions.]
[Observe]
[A flail with two additional bludgeoning heads. Weapon of the Night's Cavalry who ride funeral steeds. The large spikes make it highly effective at inducing blood loss but also demand higher dexterity to wield. Contains the Ash of War—'Shared Order'.]
It had not carried much, but what it did carry was exceedingly valuable. One was an ordinary pitch-black ring tucked underneath a clawed gauntlet and the other a medallion with carvings of knight statues.
[Observe]
[Dectus Medallion. Brandishing the medallion with both halves conjoined will activate the Grand Lift of Dectus, connecting the Altus Plateau to Liurnia.]
His blood-smeared face split into a smile as his journey got exponentially easier. He was planning on going through the Ruin-Strewn Precipice and fighting the Wyrm Makar, an incredible pain in the ass. But now, he could accelerate his plans.
He turned his attention to the black ring that seemed to be forged by twisting small Omen horns into its current shape, ending in small holes on either side.
[Observe]
[Funeral Steed Whistle: A delicate Omenwork ring. Can be used as a finger whistle. Sound the whistle to summon and ride Elrus, the Funeral steed. The Funeral Steed lives a cursed life, never to live nor to die—Can be summoned after its destruction given time.]
'Funeral Steed?' he frowned. He'd suspected that Torrent wasn't the only one of his kind as Miquella was seen riding another Spectral Steed—but that was a Spectral Steed, while Elrus was a Funeral Steed. He'd thought that the Funeral Steeds in-game were a spell that the Night's Cavalry possessed, but it seemed that he was wrong.
He slipped the ring onto his finger, before raising it to his lips and blowing. Instead of a shrill whistle like with Torrent, it was deathly silence, as though blowing it removed sound instead of producing it.
A large purple circle with intricate symbols and signs appeared under him, from which a Demigod-sized steed rose, covered in a large cloak.
"Elrus?" Godrick asked, tracing the whistle, and the horse bent its head as if in acknowledgement.
'Elrus the Funeral Steed,' he mused as he looked at the Amber Starlight Shard. The encounter with the Night Cavalry got him frighteningly close to death, but he was in an incredibly good mood. Nothing had gotten him this excited.
He wanted more.
***
"Men! Weapons! Now!" Earnan yelled as he drew his sword, his heart pounding. His Lord had left them, and he could now see why.
A black figure approached them with blinding speed as if it were the wind, slipping in and out of shadows. The whispers, the unease, and a black figure on a horse. It even carried their Lord's Greatspear.
It could only be one thing, and he refused to believe it.
"What is that?!" Forthus stammered as he fumbled for his spear. That... thing would be upon them in minutes. It ate up the distance like nothing else he'd seen. Black armour, shadow cloak, and a similarly black steed.
"Lo, 'neath the moon's pale gleam, the Night's Cavalry dost ride, spectres of shadow, haunting the dreams of those who dare the darkened path," Madadh shivered, whispering a tale that mothers use to scare children.
"They don't exist," Pavel shook his head as though attempting to convince himself. "We should run... even the Lor—"
"Quiet!" Earnan yelled, raising his sword at the fast-approaching figure. "We have already disappointed the Lord once! We are not cowards! We fight to the death!"
"We swore the oath twice, you fools!" Madadh joined his Commander, shouting in a rare moment. "Death in service to Godrick the Golden is its own reward. Life in failure to him is its own condemnation!"
The soldiers roared in response, beating their chests and surging forward.
"To Glory and Eternal Dominion!"
"To Glory and Eternal Dominion!"
They charged, fully prepared to give their lives, only to be met with a familiar voice.
"Well, at least thy valour is beyond question."
The charge screeched to a halt.
"Lord?" Earnan frowned, still pointing his sword at the giant figure atop the equally giant horse.
"Since the Night Cavalry was so kind as to donate his armour, I thought it meet to claim his head as well," Godrick boomed from behind his helm, casting the severed head of the Night Cavalry at the feet of his men. "Now come, for one last task remains here we depart the Dectus Plateau."
He turned around and clipped away on Elrus, not knowing that the worship in his men's eyes turned to fanaticism.
***
Hit 1600 chapters next week and ye get a bonus chapter