Gundrik turned his head slightly, staring at Jerren with one eye before turning a slight bit more to look at Nepheli, who gave him a shrug.
"That was easier than I thought it would be," Gundrik said slowly, the crackling of flames somehow seeming louder than before. He supposed it wasn't called the Smoldering Church for no reason. "Not that I am questioning your choices, but just a moment ago, you basically outlined all the reasons why I thought you would refuse."
"The Rot affects us all, chum," Jerren said, his old voice ringing through the church. "In spite of our best efforts, in the memory of our general, one day it will spread out from Caelid, and subsume the entire world in its fetid mass. I hold no love for Malenia, but I, and the men who have come with me, have fought the Scarlet Rot for far longer than we have fought her. We have been at this for decades, my lord."
"And dearest Malenia hast been resisting it for longer still," Marika pointed out, looking down at Jerren from the bridge of her nose. "It pleaseth me to see that sense hast not left all within this land, however. This choice dost good credit to thine potential."
"Do not mistake me, my friends," Jerren said, his gravelly voice echoing in Gundrik's ears as his right hand twisted the flamberge in the ground to his right. "Were it to be my choice, I would not see Malenia walk out of Caelid, but I know this is bigger than my petty wishes. And you, my lord, have already done good service, to both General Radahn, and to me. I believe that is worth some oversight on my part."
"Well, good," Gundrik nodded. "It looks like we will have a good chance after all."
With the remnants of the Redmanes integrating themselves into Gundrik and Marika's army, their dwellings and picture grew more haphazard; Redmane tents were dotted among the piecemeal ones that their army had made beforehand, and the Redmane soldiers and knights, with their red cloth and burnt insignias, looked decidedly out of place amongst the barbed Exiled soldiers and Banished Knights. Still, it had come along well, and within less than a week, they were on the march again.
The army, with Gundrik, Marika, and Malenia at the head, with Jerren and Nepheli leading their own contingents on either side, had not marched more than a few miles into Caelid before the first problems showed up. Not that Gundrik had gone in expecting things to go well; the Kindred of Rot were deceptively intelligent, and no doubt some scouts had seen their army on the outskirts of Caelid and alerted their 'superiors'. Beyond that, there was one other wildcard he had no idea the role they would play.
The Sage Gowry, the 'man' who had shown him the way to Millicent upon the Church of Rot, high above the ruined town of Sellia, the one who had repaired the unalloyed gold needle for him, was still out there. He had no idea where the fetid fool had scarpered off to, but Gundrik knew that he would likely see him again.
If the Scarlet Rot was indeed the essence of an Outer God, as some texts alleged, then it would simply be another that would be cast away from the world at large. The Perfect Order had no need for such things.
Beyond that, Caelid was proving to be as hellish as Gundrik had imagined. Before the first week was out, he had received reports of men being eaten alive by the awkward, big-mouthed dogs that called the rotten fiefdom home, with more than a few being pecked to death by massive toothed crows. Such reports did not do much to boost morale, to put it mildly, but nonetheless, the Redmanes proved to be as able survivalists as Gundrik had known they would be.
At some point, however, the day's progress slowed down, and so they made camp north of the Forsaken Ruins. Caelid was not a hospitable place for a camp, but after the first few incidents, the corrupted wildlife seemed content to leave the giant army alone, once it was proven that attempting to eat stragglers would very quickly lead to being impaled and set on fire, sometimes in the opposite order.
It didn't stop Gundrik from making his rounds, though. Sometimes, sleep would come easily to him, as when he traveled with Marika to Stormveil. Other times, his dreams would be plagued by events long since passed.
I am the lord of all that is golden…
Such dreams often lead to him wandering the early hours of morning, although in Caelid, what constituted 'night' and 'day' was often a simple change from dark red to bright red. Of course, if he was sharing a bed with Marika, sometimes he didn't have a choice. Not that he couldn't slip out, but because it felt cruel of him to do so.
Thankfully, on one such night, he allowed himself to suppress those feelings and wander about the camp. Just beyond the constant red haze of Caelid's skies, Gundrik could see the stars twinkling, as well as the face of the moon staring down at him. And while some parts of the camp were still active, it was eerily quiet. Just beyond his sight, he could see the Swamp of Aeonia, sitting there as if beckoning him forth.
And before that, he saw Malenia standing upon the cliffedge, her face turned toward the swamp's direction, though Gundrik knew she likely wasn't seeing it the same way he was. Her long red hair gently flowed with the breeze, and underneath laid her singed cape. Still atop her head sat her golden helmet, still missing one of its winged ornaments.
In Gundrik's mind, it was a scene practically built for a painting.
Slowly, he marched up to her side, following what her eyeless face was 'looking' toward. Unsurprisingly, it led him to the brambled Heart of Aeonia. There was not much there when Gundrik had been inside it; an old man, reveling in the glory of a war long over, slowly succumbing to the Rot, just like everything else within Caelid. The phantoms he had summoned had proven a worse challenge than the man himself.
"So," Gundrik began, "a lovely view, huh?"
Malenia's head tilted up before she turned to face him, as if to stare at him, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Ah, yes. I forgot, the…" he motioned toward his own eyes. "The whole blind thing, for a moment. It does make me wonder why you are out here like you can see what is in front of you, though."
"Perhaps I wished for a moment of silence," Malenia replied. She turned to face the Heart of Aeonia again. "Even now, free of Rot, I can feel it, like a beacon across these fungal plains."
"You are more connected to this place than anyone else here," Gundrik said, nodding. "You are the direct cause of it."
Malenia was silent.
"Do you think this will redeem you?" Gundrik asked, grasping his hands behind his back. "I was not here during the Shattering; I was with Lord Godfrey across the sea. I have heard enough, though, and you have told me enough yourself. You once told me that it was an act of desperation that you hoped would not have long-lasting consequences."
"Perhaps there is no redemption," Malenia finally said. "I will not waste time and ponder what could have been, or wonder if the people will ever forgive me. The Redmanes rightly regard me with suspicion at best. A vessel I may no longer be, but the weight of my actions are a different curse altogether."
"Ha! A greater truth, I have never heard," Gundrik hooted, a small, humorless smile on his face. "I do think you are on the right path, though. I remember watching you fight in Farum Azula. Those beastmen never knew what hit them. Even if there is nothing left for you after this, we would gladly accept you."
"I am the Blade of Miquella no longer," Malenia said quietly, her right prosthetic hand reaching up as its fingers lightly ticked away with each motion she made with them. "I was not lying when I stated my brother has no need for weapons any longer, and his slumber shall not be disturbed, not by the Lord of Blood or his cruel mistress. There is nothing that can bring him out of his sleep, but he granted me one last boon, in my dreams."
"You never told me that part," Gundrik hummed, "In fact, beyond what you said earlier, you were not very talkative in Farum Azula. Not that such a place inspires much for conversation, not for warriors like us. We are not historians; we look at the ancient stones of long dead civilizations and wonder where enemies may be lurking, not wondering who had built such structures and why."
Malenia was quiet for a moment, contemplative, before speaking again. "He showed me, free of the Rot, where I could go to finally rid myself of it. I do not know how he came about such information, but I could see it, as clear as day. And when I descended into the world below the clouds, and was accosted by the Dragonlord, for once in my life, even before I had cured myself, it felt as if an entire world had been lifted off my shoulders. If only for a moment, I could feel the wind upon my flesh and not wince. And then when it ended, and I felt its presence fade away from my being…"
Slowly, Malenia brought her hands up, and picked her golden helmet off her head. Strands of red hair kept beneath it began to flow along with the wind like small wisps of blood along a stream. Gundrik could still see the scarring from the Scarlet Rot, although the lesions continued to peel away. Even with most of the visible damage falling away, Malenia was still without three of her natural limbs, and her eyes were gone forever. How she maneuvered around was anyone's guess, and Gundrik would not deprive her of that secret.
"What use is a broken sword, with no one to use it?" Malenia asked.
"Mm. Plenty of things. You could repurpose it as a knife and use it to chop vegetables. Or use it as a survival tool while out in the wilderness," Gundrik replied, standing on his toes. Somehow, he and Malenia seemed almost the exact same height, but that could not have been right; he had always been a slight bit shorter than her.
"No," Malenia shook her head. "Perhaps if there is no other option, but you will always search for the right tool for what you need. And a twisted, broken blade is useless."
Gundrik shrugged. "Maybe. But it's a good thing you are not a blade, then, huh?"
"Lord Gundrik-"
Holding up a hand, Gundrik interrupted her. "You said so yourself: you are no longer the Blade of Miquella. But that is okay. You are free now. You have already gathered us here in Caelid, so there is no backing out of this now, but once this is done, you can do whatever you want. You are not beholden to me, or Marika, or Radagon. You may even keep your Great Rune, if you wish. I doubt I need it, or Marika needs it."
Malenia stared at Gundrik, or what amounted to staring with her empty sockets. She shook her head after a moment before placing her helmet upon her head again.
"Then perhaps there is a place for me in this world, if you will have me," Malenia said.
"Of course there is," Gundrik replied, chuckling a little. "But first, we need to send the Rot packing. I admit, I will enjoy watching the Kindred flail about as the Rot is taken away from them."
Malenia tilted her head. "Such cruelty would befit their foul purpose, I suppose."
"I'm serious. Imagine them squirming about as those threads they kept piercing me with fall to the ground. Prawn-looking savages - I should have done this a long time ago, but I did not have the power. Now I do. Oh, the things I would do to them if I had the chance you do…"
"You have lost me."
Gundrik waved a hand. "It was a temporary madness, nothing more. Do not pay me any mind."
While the rest of the night passed by with little else happening, Gundrik did not regret going for his nightly rounds.
There was one more thing Gundrik wanted to do before the army marched on Aeonia.
The men were ready. The Redmanes had shared their arms and armaments, and the rest of Nepheli's contingent had access to the fire pots and other flaming essentials they had used in their eternal struggles against the Scarlet Rot. And with their forces combined, whatever resistance they came upon was swiftly burnt to ashes.
However, Gundrik could see the writing on the wall. As much as he hated them, the Kindred of Rot were more than mere animals, and even the fungal victims of the Rot had proven to be capable of rational thinking, even if nothing remained of them but the fetid mushrooms that grew from their flesh. Everywhere the army went, the remnants of past dwellings of the Kindred were evident; carcasses only half-feasted upon, the occasionally abandoned young, all of it left behind in a hurry. They were planning for a last stand, Gundrik theorized, marshaling their forces around the Heart of Aeonia while the combined Redmane-Stormveil army marched through their territory.
It was a desperate strategy, but an animal is always most dangerous when cornered, Gundrik reminded himself. To that end, personal back-up wouldn't go amiss.
Which led to Gundrik asking Marika a rather personal question.
"Can you split yourself apart?" Gundrik queried when they were alone. Such a meeting was uncommon save for at night, and Gundrik could see moonlight peeking in through the slit of the entrance to their tent.
Marika looked at Gundrik as if he had just asked her to contract the Scarlet Rot to see how it affected a goddess.
"Alright, yes, that sounded bad, but I did not mean literally tearing yourself asunder," Gundrik explained, gesturing emphatically with his arms. "I know that Radagon was once married to Rennala, and you to Godfrey, and I know that being in two places at once would be difficult, even for you. This has been on my mind for some time now, and I apologize for not asking this at a better time, but I think we could really use some bodies on the ground for this assault."
"Thou wilt forgive me if I do not split myself apart to quench thine thirst for knowledge," Marika replied, crossing her arms across her chest as she glared down at Gundrik.
Gundrik was impressed with himself; just a little while before, such a glare would have turned him into a repentant mess. In that moment, it hardly seemed to affect him at all.
"You do not need to do it now," Gundrik assuaged. "There has to be some sort of downside to it, if you have not done it already. Radagon must be driving you mad."
Marika pursed her lips. Thou have not the foggiest idea; indeed, thou art correct, Lord Gundrik. I couldst cast Radagon from my flesh, but to do so would see my power split. We are a god, and a god cut in twain, whilst a god in truth still, wouldst be only half as bright as the greater whole."
"So Radagon would have half of your power, and you would have the other half? That does complicate things," Gundrik said, placing a hand to his chin as he paced around in front of Marika. "On the one hand, both you and Radagon are effective commanders, and even when split your powers would be formidable. I recall that you defeated the god of the Fire Giants while Radagon was not a part of you. On the other hand, nobody knows what will happen when we assault the Heart. I would not put it past these Kindred if they summon something horrible."
Gundrik went silent for a moment, while Marika patiently waited for him to continue, a small, almost imperceptible smile on her face.
"So, really, it's all up to you," Gundrik said, finally stopping and holding his arms out to his side. "I will not, and I doubt I even could, force you to split apart like that. You have probably already thought about doing it more than once."
"Oh, more than thou wilt ever know," Marika grumbled.
"I just think we should not toss away the prospect altogether. This is to be a large battle, with dozens of factors all coming into play at once," Gundrik continued, beginning his pacing once more. "Honestly, it makes me wish for those hazy days, at the start of my journey, with nobody but me, Torrent, and the wind at my side. And… and Melina, too, but I…"
Gundrik was so caught in his reverie, that he had not noticed a subtle glowing gold light envelop Marika, and by the time he turned to his left to see why his eyes were suddenly battling a light glare, his eyes nearly widened so much and so fast his eyelids were in danger of peeling off of his face.
Within moments, almost as if they had always been separate, Radagon and Marika stood beside one another, although there were a few differences; the scars from the Shattering had grown in intensity, and some of the gold in their eyes lost its luster. They were still healthy-looking, thankfully. In fact, Gundrik had a hard time looking away, and he had no idea why.
"Well, then," Radagon murmured, turning around to regard the tent flaps outside. "I suppose we are doing this now."
"Do not act as if thou didst not want this, my other self," Marika chided, a mocking, smug grin on her face. "It was always thine intent to speak to our Lord again. What of it now? Art thou looking into the face of thy feelings, and art left wanting?"
"Always with your venomous words, serpent. How much does he trust you, I wonder?" Radagon openly wondered, walking away from Marika and circling around Gundrik. "How do you know if he just wishes to appease you, as Godfrey did?"
"I watched him from the beginning of his journey to the end, for every bit of Grace returnst to him, I saw him fight and die, for the sake of this world," Marika replied easily, her smile not leaving her face. "I guided him along, revived him when it was needed. He is an honest man, of good judgment and commitment. I wouldst hate to see him come to harm."
Gundrik knew that was likely the case. While Marika likely could not see everything he did, words she had said back in Altus stuck with him still. To so brazenly come out and say it, though, was something he did not expect.
"A suitable Elden Lord, then, to herald your new age? Tell me, Gundrik, do you find this situation agreeable?" Radagon suddenly asked, and Gundrik slowly turned to face him. He stood between the two halves of a god, and he was nearly suffocating underneath the pressure.
"Well," Gundrik began, his tongue not moving in the way he wished it. "I am not complaining, am I?"
"That is why he is here, mine other self. Look upon him now, and see what thou shalt never become," Marika said, looking at Radagon from the bridge of her nose, her smile becoming more smug by the second.
"I was Elden Lord once, and even if I am never again, that part of history shall not be forgotten," Radagon rebuked.
Gundrik looked between the two halves, pointedly not looking down when he stared at Radagon. He really should have brought a spare change of clothes or armor before he broached the splitting topic with Marika.
"And I must admit, Lord Gundrik, you have my curiosity," Radagon continued, and Gundrik turned toward him only for the red-haired former Elden Lord to be right in front of him. While Radagon's height had not changed much, what surprised Gundrik was that the disparity in their height had not been as dramatic as it had been when they first met. The same went from Marika, of course, and Gundrik could not fathom why.
"I wonder if I could have something else, too, like a hand to hold, or something similar," Gundrik replied without thinking.
"I wouldst happily provide, but I am much too entertained to interrupt," Marika chimed in from behind.
After shooting a slight glare toward Marika, Radagon looked down into Gundrik's eyes, as if studying him.
"Perhaps the lying snake is not all wrong. I must admit, I find myself more intrigued by you. Speaking truthfully, it has been many an age since someone has bested me in battle, and even if I was not in my right state of being, the fact that you were able to lay me low is a feat worthy of praise," Radagon said, placing a hand on Gundrik's shoulder. "You have my respect."
"Is that all he hast, Radagon?" Marika crowed, "Or shalt we share in what we give him?"
"Now is not the time for such things, snake," Radagon growled, "Perhaps in time, when Rennala's departure is far from my mind, but I do not find myself willing to rush this."
Gundrik turned to Marika briefly, wide-eyed before his gaze returned to Radagon's. It was quite uncanny how similar their eyes looked. And of course, Gundrik was still very pointedly not looking down.
"We art the same god, Radagon. Two halves of one whole, though I wish it were not so. Perhaps had I not needed a champion- Ah, but alas, the rewriting of the past is beyond even our combined power," Marika said, placing the top of her hand against her forehead. "Perhaps thou shouldst get to it, before I steal thine moment. He is our lord both, Radagon. Never forget."
Radagon grunted, before placing both of his hands against Gundrik's cheeks and pressing his lips to his forehead. Gundrik was too stunned to do anything, and by the time it had ended, Radagon was already backing away.
"There. Mine point is made," Radagon stated. "And the more time we spend dawdling here, the longer the Kindred have to prepare for our arrival. I shall assess the state of the Redmanes; I trust they are a far cry from when they were under my son's command, but it shall distract me from your words, snake."
Gundrik shook his head, snapping out his trance before placing a hand against Radagon's chest. "Do you think I should get you a change of clothes before you do that? Before you go around swinging your, uh, sword at the men?"
Radagon looked down, only for Gundrik to follow his gaze briefly before swinging his gaze towards Marika in a hurry. She still stood there, smugly smiling at him, though he saw no edge to it. In fact, it brightened when she saw him looking at her.
"Ah," Radagon hummed, nodding. "Yes, that would be appreciated, Lord Gundrik."
Sighing, Gundrik ran a hand down his face before leaving. "I will be back."
The Purification of Caelid had begun.
Even as Gundrik stared down at the Swamp of Aeonia, its twisted, brambled Heart at the center seeming more and more a giant, tentacled monster, he felt no fear. Not a shred of emotion was within him even as he could see the Kindred and Servants of Rot creating defensive lines below. Despite his previous worries, and the antics of previous nights, he could not find much in the way of worry within him at that moment.
Behind him stood an army well over a thousand strong. While its number would no doubt be paltry compared to the juggernauts that the Shattering Wars produced, it was a veritable superpower in comparison to all others save one, and one day that outlier would likely join him as well.
The remnants of Godrick's castle host, and the Redmanes with their burnt tabards and standards made for a mismatched ocean of bodies, but they were all of them ready to fight for a better future. The Exiles with their brambled armor, the Kaiden mercenaries who had found something worth fighting for, more than simple payment, the Banished Knights Gundrik had once considered himself a part of, and the Lordsworn knights and soldiers of the Redmanes, all of them had come with him and his allies to put an end to one of the worst battles of the Shattering.
While he was not one for speeches, he had the sense that one wasn't necessary. They had two halves of a god, one of the last remaining demigods, and several seasoned former Tarnished on their side. What could they have to fear but fear itself?
Taking a deep breath, Gundrik stood at the front of the formation. Radagon was commanding his troops far to the right, while Jerren did the same to the left. Nepheli was by his side, and Marika, while weaponless, had assured Gundrik that should it come to it, she didn't need one. Even with half her power gone, she was a formidable adversary with magic alone.
Honestly, Gundrik couldn't wait to see that in action. He had not heard many tales of Marika in battle, but he had seen her fight when they traveled from Leyndell to Stormveil, and she had destroyed the god of the Fire Giants whilst separated from Radagon. While she wore no armor, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.
"Alright, then," Gundrik said, nodding to himself, turning to Nepheli briefly. "They have their orders. Charge when I do."
Nepheli nodded back, both her axes in hand.
Holding up his hand, Gundrik lightly played with the golden finger whistle. Smiling, he brought it up to his mouth. A moment, and one blow later, and his old friend stood before him, shaking his head as he eyed Gundrik.
"Good to see you too, old friend," Gundrik said, patting Torrent's mane. "Sorry I haven't given you a chance to stretch your legs for a while. I did not want to leave Marika behind in the dust, yeah?"
Torrent snorted, lightly nudging Gundrik's hand. He chuckled.
"Impatient, huh? I can understand that. We have an entire army behind us now, so do not worry about being blindsided. Just charge headfirst; I will handle the rest," Gundrik said, clutching one of Torrent's horns and giving his steed a small shake. "Let us end this."
Climbing atop Torrent, Gundrik could tell that the spectral steed had grown to accommodate him. He still did not understand how he seemed taller; perhaps everyone else had become smaller?
Pushing his thoughts to the side, Gundrik held the Bolt of Gransax forward, letting the tide of tension wash over him. It had been too long since he had been a part of a large army. Not since the Long March had he fought in a full scale battle. He had to admit to himself that some part of him missed that tension that hung in the air on the eve of large battles.
Caelid itself seemed to become almost excited at the prospect; the sky burned a deep red, and the fungal growths indicative of the Scarlet Rot almost looked eager to receive the blood and bodies it would be fed. Unfortunately for it, it would not get the chance, Gundrik remarked in his head. By the end of that day, even if Caelid was a desert, it would not be one of Scarlet Rot.
A few moments later, and Gundrik lifted the Bolt of Gransax high, its golden framework sparkling with light and red lightning.
"Charge!" Gundrik roared.
It was as if a damn burst. A cacophony of voices, all shouting and roaring justas Gundrik had, followed him like the wind as Torrent carried him forward. The rotted wind of Caelid screamed past him as he surged forward, Bolt of Gransax ready to pierce the hide of the Kindred and Servants of Rot. They had formed defensive lines, with some even digging into the terrain to attempt to weather the oncoming wave, but it would be no use. Their numbers were not great enough, and with the fury that flowed through the veins of each and every soldier behind him, Gundrik knew that victory against this army, at least, was all but assured.
Even if he knew that something was coming, no doubt something horrific, he did not feel fear, and when he was first to send his spear forward, gutting a Kindred of Rot and sending the humanoid prawn flying, blood sailing alongside it as a reddened arc through the air, the thrill of it nearly sent him into a frenzy.
Gundrik wondered if that was what Godfrey felt as Hoarah Loux, when he fought the Fire Giants and the rogue kingdoms.
Even as Gundrik sent bolts of red lightning through several Kindred, his soldiers were not far behind. Flame Chariots burned through their ranks like a tidal wave of fire, flaming pots were sent far into the defensive lines, exploding and sending bits of dead human prawn sailing across the battlefield. The winds turned every so often, alerting Gundrik to Nepheli's presence just behind him, and he could see golden light in the distance, and he knew that Radagon and Marika were not far behind.
Such brutal scenes did not mean that the army was without casualties. He could see the Kindred shoot their threads into the air, impaling men and sending them to the ground with blood leaking out of the wounds, and the Servants made good use of their magic and sheer numbers, overwhelming some squads of soldiers who desperately tried to push them back. In the end, Gundrik could not stay long, and when he saw the afterimages of a blade zipping through the air in front of him, he knew that he had somewhere to be.
Most of the fighting had been confined to the shore of the Swamp of Aeonia, out of fear that the Scarlet Rot would infect everyone who set foot there without protection. Despite that, no Kindred of Servants were within the Swamps borders, which allowed both Gundrik and Malenia easy passage.
Gundrik knew a trap when he saw one, and so he knew Marika, Radagon, Nepheli and Jerren were doing exactly as they had planned. Help would arrive, but Gundrik and Malenia would need to survive for a little while before that.
Even as Gundrik moved forward, just behind Malenia who moved with such agility he wondered if she was ever there at all, he could recognize that something had changed about the Heart. The brambled, tree-like roots that had entangled the birthplace of the Scarlet Rot upon the surface world seemed more vibrant; orange petals split off from the woody growths, and rotting butterflies flew through the air, their wings a sickly red.
When finally Gundrik and Malenia were within the Heart of Aeonia, someone Gundrik had not seen in some time was there to greet them.
He was a slight man, wearing black robes, and Gundrik knew who he would see when he turned around. Pale skin stretched over the man's skull, and his eyes were like two pinpricks of light. He held his hands out as if to welcome them.
"The instigator and the betrayer, what a lovely family," Gowry said, the warmth in his voice betrayed by the utter contempt Gundrik could feel. "I know why you have come, and it breaks my heart. Our goddess of rot has betrayed us, purging her gift from her body. And now you have come here, to deprive us faithful of our one refuge upon the surface."
Gundrik held the Bolt of Gransax tightly, looking around for potential escape routes just in case. Malenia had not said a word since she had arrived, her expression partially hidden by her damaged golden helmet. Even then, he could feel the disgust radiating off of her. Gundrik found the remains of the commander he had slain for the broken unalloyed gold needle nearby, nothing more than a pile of flesh wearing the remnants of armor.
"I never wanted your faith," Malenia responded, "and now I have come to end the legacy of my most shameful and desperate act."
"Ah, but you see, my lady, even with our god's gift to you purged from your body, you can still feel it, even now, can you not?" Gowry said, gesturing to Malenia. "Betrayer though you may be, but this is not the end-!"
Gowry did not let out a single word after Malenia surged forward with a speed Gundrik hadn't thought possible. She was a blur through the air before her sword impaled Gowry. She lifted him up, his body sliding down the length of her blade, a dumbfounded look upon his face even rotted blood flowed freely from his mouth. With a single swing, he was released, Malenia's blade cutting through his side and practically cutting him in twain. Pieces of him rained upon the former battleground before he landed upon just in front of Gundrik.
Blinking, Gundrik's stare switched from Malenia to Gowry's body.
"Well," Gundrik mumbled. "Now I just feel unnecessary."
Whatever Malenia was about to say, if she was going to say anything at all, was interrupted as a wet, guttural sound came from Gowry's mouth. Gundrik looked down swiftly, urging Torrent to back away from the body even as Gowry's face twisted into a sinister smirk.
"And so, you reject us again," Gowry snarled, his head lifting up unnaturally, almost as if someone unseen was moving it. "Fine, then. Perhaps we shall be sent down below, as before. But we shall not go without sacrifice."
And, like a puppet with its strings cut, Gowry's body fell to the ground. Malenia and Gundrik exchanged glances as the Heart began rumbling, splitting the earth beneath it. Wordlessly, both warriors moved out just as the branches began to move and contort.
Once they were outside of the Heart's interior, Gundrik looked behind him to see spines of brambles and flowers pierce the ground and push down, as if to lift something out of the very ground itself. The rotten water beneath Torrent's hooves flowed forward, leaving the wet dirt beneath them squelching with each step.
Roots split from the ground and raised into the air, pinching together like a set of pincers even as the full body of what they were facing only just pushed itself out of the muck. The butterflies from earlier crawled across the creature's back, forming wings of stray branches, fleshy fungal growths, and hair-like filaments. Lastly, a tail came from below, a stinger shining in the hellish gloom made Gundrik's spine shiver.
Multiple, hate-filled eyes stared at them as its new mandibles struggled to work, before they made way for the gaping maw beneath them. The roots resembled a carapace, and before long, Gundrik realized what he was looking at.
It was as if a rotting minor Erdtree had been given a life of its own, and formed into the aspect of an Outer God. A scorpion.
The creature raised what constituted its head up, and a shrill, ungodly shriek filled the air.
And there Gundrik and Malenia stood, awestruck by the beast for a few moments. When Gundrik turned to her, Malenia looked to be shivering. Even still, her stance did not falter, and he wondered if she was trembling out of fear, or in anticipation.
"So," Gundrik rasped. "You take the left and I take the right?"
The first, technically second big battle has begun, though it definitely will not be the last; after all, there's more than a few loose ends from the game to tie up after this lol.
Anyway, yeah, if I had to give a name to this giant monstrosity, it'd probably be just 'Avatar of Rot' or something like that. I think it's fitting given the lore bits we have.
Anyway, next chapter shouldn't take too long, and I know it doesn't feel like it but this fic might not even last through the entire summer! I'm glad for that, honestly, didn't wanna go out here and spend years on this after canon fic, especially with DLC right around the corner lol.
Anyway, thanks to GrandPaladinTyrux for being the beta for this chapter! Go read her work if you haven't already, it's some good shit.
This is not a suggestion. I have a gun.
Here's a link to our Discord server: discord .gg/9XG3U7a
See you guys next time!