"In search of the Elden Ring."

"Emboldened by the flame of ambition."

Percy's body stiffened and in an instant, he unsheathed his blade. From atop a tower, he saw a golden light that seemed to form into a figure from seemingly out of nowhere. It was only in a matter of seconds until the light faded to reveal a disfigured man with horns like wood protruding from all over the left side of his head.

A second passed when Percy felt his mind tell him to jump. After years of fighting outside and getting into situations many would have succumbed to; Percy trusted in his natural instincts, so he backed away without hesitation. That was the correct decision as the figure jumped from atop the tower and onto the area Percy had just been standing on.

A large gathering of dust enveloped the area which was promptly blown away from the figure walking out from it. Now that he was closer Percy could see his attire that was a patchwork of rugged, battle-worn garbs; they were of a faded yellow colour long gone of its once golden hue. Now it was just a tattered cloak with frayed edges that billowed around him. It concealed much of his form but it did not take an idiot to know the amount of muscle this person had.

Percy readied his claymore, holding it in front of him in a stance that he could easily switch to an offensive or defensive strike. He watched as the figure walked closer with its wooden cane - a crude mix of dark almost ebony wood styled - one made of carved wood with gnarled edges blended into a jagged form.

Although Percy had shifted his demeanour into one of battle, the figure still moved with a purpose, its voice booming over the howling wind.

"Someone must extinguish thy flame."

"Let it be Margit the Fell!"

Percy eyed the Fell Omen. He had never seen a single drawing of this man regardless of the fact many Tarnished have spoken of him and defeated him. The tales he heard about the Omen were a mixed one. Others bragged of his weakness, some feared him, and other Tarnished praised him for his skill. Regardless, everyone agreed on one thing, Margit the Fell Omen was not to be taken lightly. Whether you were maidenless and therefore prone to death, or a Tarnished blessed by one attaining the ability to continuously challenge the Omen; death did not discriminate. Many Tarnished fell before the Fell Omen, their flames of ambition extinguished efficiently and effectively.

Percy gripped his claymore tightly. "I'd say it's nice meeting you, Fell Omen, but it's really not."

Percy's words were met with silence as Margit the Fell waited patiently for him to move. It seemed that the Fell was a patient one contrary to what other Tarnished had voiced. However, Percy wasn't going to wait around for a battle of patience. He wasn't known for his patience after all; he was one to charge into battle and make plans on the fly.

"If you won't make the first move then I guess I will." Percy took a deep breath and slowly walked forward before speeding up into a sprint.

A few feet before he could close the distance between them Margit threw three gold spectral knives. Percy slid underneath them and parried a downward stab of Margit's staff before rolling forward and behind the Omen. With a clear shot, Percy delivered a slash from the left. His claymore sliced against the back of Margit's calves.

Percy didn't take this as a victory however as the wound was barely visible. It seemed he needed to add more power to cut through Margit's thick skin. But before Percy could deliver a second attack he had to roll backwards to get away from Margit's disfigured monstrous tail. Percy barely dodged the attack and could literally feel the wind whip across his head ruffling the plume of his helmet in the process.

Percy didn't want to take any risk and he needed to see what other moves Margit had at his disposal; so instead of rushing in to punish the slight delay of Margit's attack, Percy dashed backwards. However, that proved to be the wrong move as Margit lept backwards only to throw two daggers made of light at him. Percy threw his claymore in front of him to block the yellow projectiles but was shocked when they went past the blade and embedded themselves into his left and right shoulder blades.

"What the hell?" Percy winced as he went to discard the daggers. But when his hand went to reach for the hilt he found nothing but air. "Huh?" Percy patted the spot where the daggers should've been but found nothing; instead, his hand touched the open wound which already spilled blood.

"Non-physical attacks…" Percy mused to himself and at the same dodged rolling away from Margit's staff. "Gold… very bright, looks solid but is not… hurts but no underlying effects- holy magic, that's it."

"I am glad to know thee Tarnished is knowledgable," Margit spoke, confirming Percy's suspicions.

"Fortunately I am immune to holy magic-" Percy was interrupted when Margit leapt towards him with his staff poised his way.

Percy once again went for a block but remembered the earlier ordeal. He only had a second left then he would have been speared but fortunately his instincts forced him to roll forward.

He ended up behind Margit and struck hard at Margit's exposed back. Percy pulled back his claymore and with a mighty yell thrusted his blade forward. Unlike before this one gave Margit a much deeper wound. Percy went to strike again but berated himself seconds later when he fell victim to a large horizontal swing from Margit's long staff. Percy saw it only when it had already smacked him full-on in his right ribcage.

If Percy had been wearing any armour weaker than metal he would've suffered a shattered ribcage that would have pierced his internal organs and no doubt his lungs. But he was wearing metal albeit only chainmail but that was enough so that he only suffered a bruise and maybe a crack on one or two of his ribcage.

Both fighters withdrew from each other. Percy took this moment to quickly drink one of his flasks, feeling the effects instantaneously. The ache of his body disappeared and he felt his ribcage heal up as well as the dagger wounds.

Margit after witnessing Percy heal himself pulled his staff behind his back. Percy saw this and was instantly on guard but what came next would hurt him once more. Because with a sudden burst of speed - speed that one would not expect from a being so big - Margit dashed forward while swinging his staff. It came from the right first, once again targeting his side but Percy was able to parry it away with a grunt. However, that wasn't all. Margit would then follow up with a swing from the left. Percy parried this one as well, not being able to hold a wince; but once it was over he landed a slash on Margit's stomach.

It cut through the tattered piece of clothing, slicing the ashen-toned stomach underneath. It wasn't deep but it wasn't shallow and it clearly, from the look on Margit's face, delivered some damage. Taking this slight moment of hesitation Percy struck once again before rolling away to Margits left right where he slipped underneath the staff that had stopped midway in the air.

Then with speed that one wearing the amount of weight Percy had along with the weight of the mighty claymore, Percy struck once more but this time behind Margit's thighs. It cut deep and blood dripped out instantly. Then Percy jumped over Margit's tail while delivering an overhead attack. His claymore fell fast and hard slicing from Margit's left shoulder blade and down to his lower back.

"Argh! Cursed Tarnished, you dare imagine you'll win against the Fell Omen?!" Margit snarled.

"No, I'm not imagining it 'cause it will be a reality-" Percy gasped when he felt his stomach open. He watched in shock as blood burst out in waves.

"Your words are empty like your flames of ambition," Margit scoffed.

Percy looked as Margit twirled a similar holy dagger with a nasty grin. A noise between a growl and wince escaped Percy's mouth when Margit swung the dagger once more. This time it carved through the air and ran right across Percy's helmet. It did not physically damage the piece of metal but it did slice right through. Pain engulfed Percy's face as the dagger slid across his right cheek, over his nose, and ended at his left cheek. It felt like he just got his head split in two.

"Damnit! Oh shit!" Percy screamed as he fell to his knees. However, he soon found himself flying through the air courtesy of Margit's tail. The pain did not end there as Margit took this opportunity to leap towards him.

Knowing that he wouldn't get away in time, Percy shifted his body ever so slightly so that the spear wouldn't pierce him through the chest. But the downside was that he would lose his-

"Ahhh! Fuck, shit, oh great Marika!" Percy screamed in pain as his arm was brutally severed from him. Margit had pierced the flesh a few inches below his shoulder blade where it connected to his arm and with the staff being so big it had severed his limb entirely instead of piercing it.

However, no matter how painful it was Percy had to do this to successfully roll away and drink another one of his flasks. This time the effects weren't instant as it took a lot longer to regrow a limb than heal an open wound or a non-physical injury such as poison or rot. So for now Percy had to settle with fighting only with his left hand.

Although he favoured his right hand Percy was still able to fight soundly nevertheless the power behind his attacks would be much weaker and his accuracy not as precise. That didn't dishearten Percy, despite the disadvantage he had. He just needed to continue fighting, let his flame of ambition as Margit so called it, bloom into an inferno so hot that it can never be extinguished.

"I am not going to let you cast my life aside Fell Omen. By my hands, by this blade, and by my very own will; you will kneel and DIE!" Percy charged forward weaving left and right away from Margit's staff.

He rolled underneath a swing from his left and stabbed the point of his claymore into Margit's foot. The Omen grunted in pain and went to kick him away but Percy had already moved on. He jumped over the large tail and slashed against Margit's bleeding back. Blood sprayed out staining the already red-grey cloak. The blood spot enlarged and Percy smirked.

Percy parried next grunting from the power but held on. In an attempt to counter-attack he successfully slashed the dagger out of Margit's hand by aiming at his wrist. He followed through with a large wild swing that hit Margit right across the face. The metal of his claymore dripped with blood that was soon swept into the air as Percy quickly attacked upon Margit's pause.

With as much strength he can conjure Percy thrust his sword deep into Margit's chest. The Omen gasped from the blade entering his chest forcing him to keel from the pain. Not relenting in the attack Percy pulled out the blade and this time using his whole body he transferred his weight into thrusting the claymore back into Margit's chest.

A sickening sound of flesh being penetrated filled the air. Margit groaned and slumped forward after Percy pulled the blade out. It was time to finish it but Percy should've known it wasn't going to be this easy. Because when Margit began to fall forward he stopped and let out a deep uncanny chuckle.

"Fool of a Tarnished…"

"How? You should be… dead, that attack right now. No one could've survived that-"

"And am I no one?" Margit interjected. "I am… no one? Hahaha-" Margit's chuckle soon turned into laughter. "You dare call the Fell Omen a nobody?" Margit slowly began to stand up not even needing his staff to help him.

Percy seeing that Margit was in no way ready to fight advanced bringing his sword down. However, this once again proved his greed as a large gust of wind threw him away. His body somersaulted in the air and onto a pile of discarded weapons near the edge of the cliff. What blessed Percy's sight upon laying eyes on Margit was a large hammer coming his way. A hammer made of pure light glistening like a sun.

"Oh, great-" Was all Percy was able to say before he saw the grey clouds above. His body felt light as a feather moreover he was actually flying albeit not the correct way.

Margit suddenly appeared from above once more. His hammer was pulled back and he was falling directly above Percy preparing to squash him like a pancake. But before he could Percy felt a cold sensation wash over him, specifically where his missing arm would be.

A smirk appeared on Percy's face. "Not this time Margit." Then using his right arm Percy pushed against the hard pebbled path and performed a back flip.

The golden hammer hit the ground sending a gust of dust everywhere. Small pieces of stone from the stone path were grinded into dust while the few pieces that had survived were sent flying everywhere. One hit Percy on the face but luckily his helmet had stayed on for the duration of the fight; however, he knew it had left a dent.

Percy picked up one of the ownerless spears and threw it. It didn't do any severe damage but it did stall Margit momentarily, giving him some time to dash around Margit's form and strike with a heavy side slash with his claymore. With both his hands on the claymore, he was able to exert more damage as evidenced by the long wound across Margit's back which had been revealed due to the lack of material Margit's tattered cloak had.

But this Margit was different, despite the fact Percy adapted to his move sets there was an aura of indifference surrounding the Fell Omen. There was something more about the man as if he had entered another phase. As crazy as that sounds this was probably the case as Percy had heard of bosses with multiple phases from the tad bit of conversations he heard around the Hold.

So with that being said and done Percy's guard went up. He couldn't take any more chances considering this Margit - from what Percy had just seen - had new abilities that he needed to adapt to. Not to mention how he only had two flasks left.

Both individuals eyed each other, Percy with his claymore held steadily in front of him and Margit with his staff angled towards the ground and his footwork constantly shifting to deliver a fast dash whenever he wanted.

From an outsider's point of view, the two individuals were doing nothing but study their opponent. However, for Percy and Margit it was a battle of mental prowess and will as both imagined scenarios that could occur shortly. One minute passes, then two minutes, three minutes… four. With no words being said Percy dashed forward and rolled at the very last minute after seeing Margit swing his staff.

The staff cut through the air and hit the top of Percy's helmet just inches away from its original mark. Yet, with that single swing, Percy's helmet was sent flying revealing his sweaty face underneath. His hair was stuck in clumps from the sweat and beads of it slid down his forehead, to his cheek, and down his neck.

"Thy flame still dances-" Margit interrupts as he summoned his spectral holy hammer.

Percy saw this and seconds later dodged once more. The blunted blade struck the ground hard, sending debris flying everywhere. This was the moment Percy needed however small it was. The moment when Margit had to lift his hammer and deliver another swing this time a horizontal one.

But Percy wasn't going to give him that chance. Because instead of dodging out of the way Percy had dodged towards Margit's back where he was granted with Margit's bloodstained dorsal. Just like how Margit had slammed the hammer, Percy slammed his sword down in a vertical slash. The blade cut through Margit's back shoulder blade, carving its way down to Margit's backbone.

Margit crumpled to his knee once more and once again Percy spun around Margit's body, ending up right in front of him. Then with a mighty thrust his claymore pierced Margit once more but this time in the stomach; and unlike before, Percy added much more power granting him the joy of seeing Margit get uplifted albeit a mere feet in the air.

"This is your end, Margit! New phase or not, you die here and now!"

Slice

It was fast, so fast that it was discernable to the eye. But Percy felt it, he felt the pain that erupted from his chest, and he felt the warm liquid that drizzled down his flesh. It was slick yet diluted enough to fall in waves.

"You die here Tarnished, thy flames have ceased their dance," Margit mocked through his coughing fit. He stood up but slowly as the wound inflicted by Percy himself was severe.

Percy could feel his vision blur and his knee tremble. The sensation in his chest was sickening, the feeling of the wind on his bare chest after Margit's staff had sliced it open felt foreign to him. The blood only made it worse as the warm liquid mixed with the cool air creating a sensation that brought along a new sense of discomfort.

"Rest now Tarnished and die knowing that thee has been acknowledged by the Fell Omen himself," Margit spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone.

Percy nodded numbly. Margit was right, he did his best and it was time to rest-

"No."

"No."

"No."

"No!"

He couldn't feel his legs, nor could he control his arms; his vision was all but gone and his breathing far from any sense of normalcy. But his will was there and with it, Percy danced once more. With speed, he had no clue that he had; Percy delivered attack after attack on Margit. A cut here, a downward slash there, horizontal and vertical slashes on every piece of exposed flesh Percy saw was not forgotten.

Even so, with this dance, Margit was not idle. The Fell Omen himself seeing his opponent who was on the brink of death just moments prior now attacking him with skills somewhat similar to the bane of Caelid; fought back with all his strength.

They crossed their blades multiple times and multiple times they managed to wound their opponent. Neither side was backing out even with the wounds they both carried. Both minor and major nothing seemed to stop them. For Percy, this was his toughest battle yet, a battle unlike all his past ones. If he were to fall here his connection of the grace would be severed. His ability to be revived at a site of grace gone, granting him a permanent death.

For many Tarnished this would be a blessing for most of them were tired of fighting, tired of living in a hellish land where everything sought to kill you. Yet, for Percy dying meant forever losing his loved ones; from his dear friends that he made along the way, to his brother figures and sister figures, to the nonhuman companions he befriended… and his mother who was the one he held most dear in his heart.

"If I were to die here today, I would never see my loved ones again," Percy whispered.

Was it fate? Was it skill? Was it the fact he was like a cornered animal who turned feral to survive? Or was it the knowledge of never seeing his loved ones? Maybe it was all of the above… because in that moment Percy saw it.

"Die, Fell Omen."

Squelch

"Tarnished-"

Thud.

"T-thy flame… and… thy a-ambitions-" Margit fell to his knees, his staff falling from his hand as he gazed at the retracting claymore that was stuck in his chest. "Burn a-and… bloom so br-ight."

Percy mirrored the action, letting his claymore fall from his hand.

"Too bright…" Margit held his head up looking at the grey clouds above and whispered something indecipherable. Through all this Percy watched in silence. He was about to leave for the grace site that had just appeared but stopped upon hearing what seemed to be the last words of his defeated foe.

"I shall remember thee, Tarnished," Margit spoke the tremble in his voice gone. "Smouldering with thy meagre flame. Cower in Fear. Of the Night."

It was ominous, Percy couldn't help but feel cold not by the wind on his exposed chest but by the meaning behind the words.

"The hands of the Fell Omen shall brook thee no quarter…" With that final sentence, Margit's body began to disperse in a cloud of gold particles.

Percy stood there with his hand hovering above the grace and his eyes studying the spot Margit the Fell Omen's body was once at. Although he witnessed Margit's death something felt amiss. Was he truly gone? Percy had intended to purge the Fell Omen from this castle and from these lands. It was what he had intended and had sacrificed his connection to the grace to achieve it.

However, at that moment it did not matter. There was only one thing in Percy's mind… and that was being able to see his mother once more.

| Notes |

Sorry, this chapter took so long. Don't worry though, I have started writing chapter 6.

A.N. This boss fight frustrated me a lot. Although it helped me gain experience using a medium-weight build, it was a long tedious problem since I was so used to rolling and attacking fast. However, I got used to it slowly and after a few tries (20 deaths give or take) I was able to defeat Margit.

On another note… the DLC has finally come! I downloaded it once it was released on Steam and played it as soon as it was done downloading. Let me just say, first look, the map is beautiful, period. The mobs on the other hand… damn were they hard! Harder than the Haligtree mobs, they hit like tanks and I was constantly being killed left and right. My favourite fight so far was Rellana. Man was she such a good boss. Not to mention her twin blades! Once I got her remembrance I went back to the Roundtable and took it. Right now I'm running a Rellana build and it is amazing! It's medium weight like I'm used to now and it's fast! My dream build.

Pt2. Was the fight scene good? This was by far the longest one I've ever written and I had to stop multiple times since I was getting so frustrated with the word choices and structuring. Anyways, if you guys have any questions please send a DM. It is much faster than waiting for another chapter update.

Feel free to answer these questions in the comment section:

Q1. Have you bought the DLC?

- I bought it literally 2 days before it was launched. Broke life over here.

Q2. Do you think there will be a 2nd one?

- I wouldn't mind another DLC. It'd be nice to know what kind it will be. Maybe a prequel or sequel or even a whole new land. However, it depends on Grandpa George and his thoughts.

| End |

Updated: 6/23/2024