Shores of Lake Liurnia.
Emerald-green leaves fell gently with the wind, landing on the azure surface of the lake. It was a scene brimming with vitality, showcasing the flourishing forms of life.
By the lake stood a manor. Its heavily fortified walls bore the fluttering banners of the Carian royal family. Heavily armored soldiers patrolled, their sword sheaths clinking against their armor with a "clang clang" sound. Beneath their helmets, their expressions were tense and solemn.
Since the Academy of Raya Lucaria had imprisoned their headmistress—Queen of the Full Moon Rennala—war had raged endlessly between the Academy and the royal family.
Now, the sorcerers and their forces had advanced to the royal family's final stronghold. If they breached this manor, they would have only a few miles to march before reaching the encampments outside Caria Castle.
Every remaining Carian soldier had been mobilized. From mighty knights to elite troops, even commoners armed with crude weapons and former Academy sorcerers who had surrendered, all unsheathed their swords and strung their bows. They stood resolute before the corpses outside the walls and the endless enemy camps stretching into the distance.
By the lakeside near the manor, a young sorcery apprentice sat against a wall. His short black hair was neatly cropped, and his pale blue eyes shimmered faintly with a golden "blessing." Gazing at the towering Erdtree in the distance, he muttered to himself, "Does this have to involve defending a city?"
The blood and flames of Ashina Castle still lingered in his memory. His hands seemed to recall the sensation of slicing through flesh and organs with a blade. Looking down, he saw the dark green robes of a sorcery apprentice and a metallic nameplate inscribed with unfamiliar letters:
Kaelith Light.
Memories surged back. This young man was a newly admitted sorcery apprentice. After his hometown had been looted by the Cuckoo Knights, anger had driven him to defect and side with the Carian royal family. Yet, being inherently timid, he had always found ways to shirk his duties.
"Couldn't you have given me a robust warrior's body? What use is a sorcery apprentice?"
Kaelith spat into the lake. Yet, from the beginning, he hadn't had a choice. What kind of divine entity chose such a shattered world for someone to suffer through? Did those four pitiful life forms have any real options?
Fortunately, after enduring the tortures of Ashina, he had grown accustomed to the struggles.
"Fine, a sorcerer it is. At least this 'Elden Ring' isn't too awful."
Kaelith glanced again at the distant Erdtree. According to the memories of this body, the Lands Between were still in the midst of "The Shattering." The Tarnished had not yet returned, and even the manor at his feet hadn't turned into ruins.
Of course, things weren't much better. Due to the shattering of the Elden Ring, war's fiery devastation had swept through the Lands Between. From demigods to commoners, everyone struggled amidst blood and flames.
This chaos could be summed up with an old saying: "The heavens shift, divine artifacts are fragile, but the virtuous... what nonsense."
Kaelith chuckled bitterly. The so-called "great figures" were merely vying for fragments of the Elden Ring to ascend to the throne. As for this lakeside in Liurnia... for a mere sorcery apprentice, the goal was simple:
Survive.
He took a deep breath, clenched his fist instinctively as though reaching for something on his back—only to find nothing. Smiling wryly, he looked at the short, rudimentary sorcery staff in his hand, tucked it into his voluminous robes, and walked calmly toward the manor.
Tents were set up everywhere within the manor grounds. Carian soldiers in full armor and even massive trolls could be seen among the crowd. Several long tables were placed at the center, where soldiers queued for meals.
"Kaelith, over here!"
As he descended the steps, a young soldier in armor waved to him. The man had removed his helmet, revealing a slightly immature face adorned with a thin mustache.
Kaelith was momentarily stunned but soon recognized the man as Arnold, a childhood friend from his village. He thickened his skin and cut through the line, but no one said anything upon seeing his sorcerer's robe. Sorcery apprentices were rare, and even novices were precious during defensive battles.
"By the way, Knight Commander Bols assigned you to a patrol this morning. Why didn't you show up?" Arnold asked as he balanced his plate and craned his neck forward. His expression was lively and animated.
"Ah, they wanted me to circle around via the lake route. I got seasick," Kaelith replied, sifting through fragmented memories and piecing together this body's pitiful background.
"Seasick?" Arnold widened his eyes, then turned serious. "Kaelith, I know you're scared. But in these times, just surviving is a blessing... If the manor falls, do you think the Cuckoo Knights will spare you?"
"Of course not." Kaelith nodded solemnly, wearing an expression of sudden realization. He thought to himself that his friend had surprisingly good emotional intelligence.
The sorcery apprentice might have been naive and cowardly, but as someone forged in Ashina's struggles, Kaelith needed no lectures about survival.
Arnold froze momentarily but quickly dismissed his doubts. He assumed Kaelith had come to terms with the situation. While getting their meals, Arnold chattered away.
"At least we have food here. Outside, it's all madness—demigod wars and ruined towns. Under Lady Ranni's orders, we still get to eat."
"It's precisely because of the food that I'm mocked. Even in war, there's no tolerance for weakness." Kaelith noted the disdainful looks from the soldiers serving food and immediately understood his body's prior reputation.
"Don't worry, just stay alive. Someday, you might get to conduct research in a big chamber." Arnold offered words of comfort, unsure of what else to say.
At that moment, the kitchen soldiers handed them their plates. The meal was surprisingly decent: boiled crab meat, bread, and a bowl of stew made with Arteria Leaves.
Arnold held up the crab with both hands, grinning widely. "See, today's meal isn't bad. I heard two squads tried catching lobsters but got blasted back by a water cannon."
Daring to provoke the King of Prawns, you must think highly of yourselves.
Kaelith chuckled softly, sitting cross-legged with the young soldier on a patch of empty ground, taking large bites of his meal.
The Carian army's cooking skills were exceptional. A special seasoning masked the crab's fishy smell, and the meat soup carried a rich yet peculiar aroma. Tearing a piece of bread to wrap around the crab meat, then gulping it down with the broth, Kaelith found it a far cry from the miserable rice balls he'd been forced to eat before. His appetite surged as thoughts about the "madness plague" surfaced in his mind.
He recalled his time as a player in *The Lands Between*, where lunacy spread like wildfire, leaving survivors gaunt and grotesque. However, as he observed the current populace, most seemed normal, hinting that this era predated the game's events. Kaelith instinctively glanced at the distant Erdtree, his spoon pausing mid-air.
"What are you thinking about? Still want that bread? If not, I'll take it." Arnold's voice pulled Kaelith back, his hand reaching sneakily for the bread.
Kaelith tossed the bread to him, watching as Arnold's face lit up with joy. "Just wondering how to avoid going mad."
"Why think so much? The madness plague's origins and cures are matters for the big shots to handle. All we need to do is drive off those damned Cuckoo Knights and get back to the village. Wonder if Mary's married yet."
Kaelith had heard similar words many times. A fragment of a warrior's creed, a stray elder from the church—it all boiled down to this:
Regardless of status, survival demands risk.
As Arnold gleefully savored his meal, the grating sound of iron boots echoed in the distance. Kaelith turned to see a tall figure clad in gray armor with a fur-lined cloak, a massive greatsword slung over its back, and a fearsome wolf's head mask.
"Lord Blaidd is here," Arnold whispered, quickly standing and wiping his greasy mouth.
The Wolf Knight, one of Carian's leading generals, served under Lunar Princess Ranni. His status far surpassed these common soldiers. Kaelith also rose hastily.
His presence was overwhelming.
Even for someone who had survived countless battlefields, Kaelith squinted slightly. After all, *The Lands Between* was no place for ordinary humans. This Wolf Knight could face thousands alone, and his visage was all too familiar.
Blaidd? Ranni's loyal wolf, the source of my transformation?
"Attention! This afternoon, there's a reconnaissance mission. I need five volunteers," Blaidd announced, his deep voice brimming with authority that demanded respect.
Most soldiers in the Carian ranks were loyal to a fault. Before Blaidd's words fully settled, several stepped forward. But Blaidd said nothing, his gaze fixed on one corner. He silently walked out, leaving an air of tension behind.
As lunch concluded and the soldiers dispersed, Kaelith and Arnold were preparing to leave when a soldier approached.
"Kaelith Light, follow me."
His tone left no room for negotiation, and Arnold immediately understood. He forced a grin, stepping forward to plead on his friend's behalf.
"Sir, about this morning—"
Before he could finish, a hand pressed on his shoulder. Turning, Arnold saw no trace of fear on Kaelith's face.
"Don't plead for me. Let me go."
"Are you mad? Recon missions are dangerous!"
"Thanks to your earlier advice, I've realized something: eating Carian food means pulling your weight. Facing military law might be even worse."
Ignoring Arnold's stunned expression, Kaelith picked up the straight sword resting against the wall. Unsheathing it slightly, the sharp, polished blade gleamed with a slick coating of oil. Satisfied, he sheathed it again.
The sword was three feet long with a faintly blue hilt, forming a cross-like shape—a common two-handed straight sword in *The Lands Between*. Kaelith weighed it in his hand, concluding it would suffice for now.
"Lead the way, sir."
The soldier, caught off guard by Kaelith's calm demeanor, nodded and led him away. Arnold scratched his head, feeling that something about his friend had fundamentally changed since lunch.
The manor was a key stronghold, strategically blocking the road to Carian Royal City. Outside its walls, the rugged terrain abruptly ended in a steep drop. To one side lay the lake, and to the other, dense woods.
A tent had been pitched near the forest, where Blaidd sat amidst the aftermath of a skirmish. Dead Cuckoo soldiers were scattered about, while conscripted villagers salvaged armor and weapons to pile nearby.
Having received his report, Blaidd noticed Kaelith approaching. Recognizing the idle magic apprentice, his first thought was that Kaelith intended to escape under the guise of volunteering. His brow furrowed, revealing pale fangs.
"Have you thought this through? Trying to outsmart me is a futile effort."
Faced with the accusation, Kaelith planted his sword into the ground, breathing in the faint scent of blood in the air. His mind was clear.
The stench was nauseating, yet achingly familiar, stirring memories of past figures.
Silent resilience, unrestrained sword saints, and saviors—all converged into the moment before him, a fortress of steel and weaponry.
Even as he mused, the former Demon Blade and current apprentice straightened his back, boldly responding:
"I'll go."