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Venom talking
(Thoughts)
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Hey I want to apologize to anyone that loves reading this book I haven't done anything with this due to the fact of working on my own actual book that is on Royal Road and Webnovel called ,That Time a Magic Ring Shattered My Quiet World The Time. It would mean a lot to me if you would help support I'll be able to do more work on this book in August once I can get ahead by alot of chapters on the other book.
ON TO THE CHAPTER
Oliver Pov.
Back in Castle Morne, I was met with cheers and jubilation. My people, once downtrodden and despairing, now held their heads high, their eyes filled with newfound hope.
A surge of pride swelled within me. I had given these people hope, a reason to fight, a future worth striving for. And I would not let them down.
The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity. I trained my soldiers, honed my own skills, and expanded my influence throughout Limgrave. With each victory, my reputation grew, the whispers of the "Lord of Morne" spreading like wildfire.
Yet, amidst the triumphs, a sense of unease lingered. The Roundtable Hold's mysteries and the looming threat of the Shardbearers weighed heavily on my mind.
"Don't worry," Venom reassured me, his voice a steady presence in the chaos. "We'll face them all, one by one. And we'll come out on top."
His confidence was infectious. I knew that the road ahead would be fraught with danger, but I also knew that I wasn't alone. I had my people, my allies, and the unwavering support of my other half.
And as I honed my skills and rallied my troops, an unexpected visitor arrived at Castle Morne. It was Nepheli Loux, her presence a welcome sight amidst the preparations for war.
"Lord of Morne," she greeted, her voice carrying a newfound determination. "I've come to offer my blade and my loyalty."
Surprise mingled with gratitude. "Nepheli," I acknowledged, a smile gracing my lips. "Your support means more than you know."
Nepheli's gaze was resolute. "Godrick's tyranny must end," she declared. "I believe you are the one to topple him, and I wish to stand by your side when you do."
A surge of warmth coursed through me. Her loyalty and trust were a testament to the impact I had already made in the Lands Between.
"Then we shall face Godrick together," I declared, my voice ringing with conviction. "We will free Limgrave from his grasp and restore hope to its people."
As we discussed strategies and battle plans, a shimmering blue light enveloped the room. A spectral message materialized before me, its ethereal glow illuminating the chamber.
Ranni the Witch wishes to speak with you, it reads, the words hanging in the air.
Intrigue warred with apprehension. Ranni the Witch was a figure shrouded in mystery, her motives and intentions unknown. Yet, an undeniable curiosity tugged at me.
"Ooh, a witchy invitation," Venom purred, his voice laced with amusement. "This could be interesting."
I glanced at Nepheli, her expression mirroring my own mix of curiosity and caution.
"It seems our path has taken an unexpected turn," I remarked, a hint of excitement in my voice. "But first, we have a demigod to depose."
I decided to gather my closest advisors, those who had been with me since the beginning. Edgar, with his unwavering loyalty and battle-hardened experience; Nicole, my trusted confidante and skilled warrior; and Skullduggery, my enigmatic companion whose knowledge of the Lands Between was unparalleled.
We gathered in the war room, maps of Limgrave spread across the table, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on our faces. "Ranni the Witch seeks an audience," I began, the air thick with anticipation. "I believe it's an opportunity we shouldn't ignore."
Edgar's brow furrowed. "A witch?" he grumbled, suspicion evident in his voice. "Can't say I trust those who dabble in dark magic."
Nicole, ever the voice of reason, countered, "But Ranni is a demigod, Edgar. Her knowledge and power could be invaluable."
Skullduggery's voice, a raspy whisper in my mind, added, "The witch's path is shrouded in mystery, but it may lead to unexpected allies and hidden truths."
I pondered their words, weighing the potential risks and rewards. Ranni's motives were unclear, but her summons couldn't be ignored.
"We'll proceed with caution," I decided, my voice firm. "But we won't turn our backs on a potential ally."
Edgar nodded reluctantly, while Nicole's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"What of Godrick?" Edgar questioned, his voice returning to the more pressing matter at hand. "Our forces are ready, but we still lack a solid plan."
I spread my hand across the map, tracing the route to Stormveil Castle. "We'll strike swiftly and decisively," I explained, outlining our strategy. "We'll use the element of surprise and the terrain to our advantage."
Nicole and Edgar leaned in, their expressions focused as I detailed our plan of attack. With their support, and the potential alliance with Ranni, I felt a surge of confidence. The time had come to take back Godrick and liberate Limgrave from his tyrannical grasp.
The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: the Lord of Morne was ready to rise.
A few days passed in a flurry of preparation. The castle's blacksmiths worked tirelessly to forge and sharpen weapons, while the archers practiced their aim under Edgar's watchful eye. The air thrummed with anticipation, a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
In the courtyard, I etched a glowing rune into the ground, channeling my newfound power to create a portal. Its swirling energy crackled, a gateway to the Site of Grace just outside Stormveil Castle. My troops, clad in gleaming armor and wielding sharpened steel, stood ready, their faces a mask of determination.
"Today," I declared, my voice echoing through the courtyard, "we reclaim our land! Today, we topple the tyrant Godrick and restore hope to Limgrave!"
A roar of approval erupted from my soldiers, their voices a thunderous wave that shook the castle walls.
With a final nod to Edgar, I stepped through the portal, my destination clear.
Nicole's POV
I watched as Oliver vanished into the portal's shimmering depths, my heart pounding in my chest. The plan was audacious, bordering on reckless. He would face Godrick alone, drawing the demigod's attention while we launched our assault on Stormveil Castle.
The weight of responsibility pressed down on me. Edgar stood by my side, his expression grim but resolute. "He's a strong warrior," he rumbled, his voice laced with both concern and admiration. "But Godrick is a monster."
I nodded, my gaze fixed on the swirling portal. "I know," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "But he's also our best hope."
The portal flickered, then vanished, leaving behind an eerie silence. A tense anticipation hung in the air, broken only by the clatter of armor and the nervous whispers of soldiers.
The castle gates groaned as they swung open, revealing a horde of Godrick's soldiers, their faces etched with surprise as they beheld our approaching army. A wave of adrenaline surged through me, replacing the initial unease with fierce determination.
"For Lord Morne!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the courtyard. "For Limgrave!"
With a battle cry, our forces surged forward, a tide of steel and fury crashing against the stunned defenders. Edgar led the charge, his massive axe cleaving through shields and armor. Nepheli fought with graceful ferocity, her spear a whirlwind of death.
From the ramparts, Gwentan and Arwent rained arrows down upon the enemy, their aim true and deadly. And beside me, Skullduggery darted through the fray, his spectral blades a chilling counterpoint to the clash of steel.
The battle was fierce, the air thick with the sounds of clashing metal and anguished cries. But our forces fought with unwavering determination, their hearts filled with righteous fury. We pushed deeper into the castle, each step a testament to our defiance against Godrick's tyranny.
Yet, a sense of unease lingered. The castle was vast, its labyrinthine corridors teeming with soldiers. And as we ventured further into the heart of Stormveil, I couldn't shake the feeling that the true battle was yet to come.
The initial shock of our assault had worn off, replaced by a desperate ferocity in the eyes of Godrick's soldiers. They rallied, their numbers seemingly endless as they poured from every doorway and archway. The clash of steel intensified, the cries of the wounded echoing through the castle halls.
We fought our way through courtyards and corridors, each room a new battleground. The stench of blood and sweat mingled with the acrid smoke of torches, creating a choking haze that clung to our armor.
Despite our initial success, a sense of dread crept into my heart. The castle seemed to twist and turn, its layout shifting like a nightmare. We were lost, trapped in a labyrinth of stone and steel.
"We need to find a way out," I shouted over the din, my voice barely reaching Edgar's ears.
He nodded grimly, his axe a blur as he cleaved through another foe. "But where?"
Just as despair threatened to take hold, a familiar voice whispered in my mind. "Up," Skullduggery hissed, his tone urgent. "There's a path upwards. A way to break free."
I followed his guidance, leading our battered forces up a winding staircase, the sounds of battle echoing from below. We emerged onto a balcony overlooking a vast courtyard, a monstrous abomination at its center.
The Grafted Scion, a grotesque amalgamation of limbs and torsos, roared in defiance, its multiple arms wielding an array of weapons. A chill ran down my spine as I gazed upon the monstrosity, a chilling premonition of the horrors Godrick had wrought.
"We have to get past that," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
Edgar's grip tightened on his axe. "Then let's show this abomination what true warriors are made of."
With a determined roar, Edgar charged forward, his axe a whirlwind of destruction. The rest of us followed, a relentless tide against the monstrous foe. The Grafted Scion, a grotesque puppet of Godrick's twisted ambition, swung its mismatched limbs with terrifying force. Swords, axes, and even a gnarled staff lashed out in a chaotic dance of death.
We fought with the desperation of cornered wolves, each strike a testament to our will to survive and conquer. Nepheli's spear found gaps in the Scion's defenses, her agility a stark contrast to the creature's lumbering bulk. Gwentan and Arwent, perched on the balcony, continued their barrage of arrows, seeking out weak points in the monstrous flesh.
Skullduggery, a spectral whirlwind, harassed the Scion from all sides, his ethereal blades leaving trails of ghostly fire in their wake. His presence was a chilling reminder that even in the face of such grotesque horror, we were not alone.
The battle raged on, a symphony of clashing steel, guttural roars, and desperate cries. The courtyard ran red with blood, both ours and the Scion's. Yet, with every fallen comrade, our resolve only hardened. We would not falter. We would not yield.
As the Scion's movements began to slow, its attacks growing more erratic, a glimmer of hope ignited within me. We were pushing it back, chipping away at its monstrous form. Victory, though distant, was within sight.
"Together!" I roared, my voice barely recognizable amidst the chaos. "We can do this!"
With renewed vigor, we pressed our attack, our weapons a relentless storm against the Grafted Scion's grotesque form. And as the beast finally crumbled, its monstrous body collapsing into a heap of mangled limbs, a triumphant cheer erupted from our weary forces.
We had overcome the first major obstacle in our path. But the battle for Stormveil Castle had only just begun.
Panting and battered, we surveyed the aftermath of the gruesome battle. The courtyard was a scene of carnage, littered with the remains of the Grafted Scion and fallen soldiers from both sides. The stench of blood and death hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the cost of our defiance.
"We did it," Nepheli breathed, her voice hoarse but filled with triumph.
"Aye," Edgar agreed, leaning heavily on his axe. "But there's still a long way to go."
I nodded, my gaze sweeping over the castle's imposing walls. "Godrick won't give up so easily," I said, my voice laced with determination. "We need to press on."
With renewed resolve, we pushed forward, our footsteps echoing through the desolate halls of Stormveil Castle. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger and unknown horrors. But we were united, bound by a common purpose and an unyielding will to see Godrick's reign brought to an end.
As we ventured deeper into the castle's depths, the echoes of battle grew fainter, replaced by an eerie silence. A sense of foreboding settled over us, a premonition of the trials that awaited.
We were in the belly of the beast now, and the beast was far from defeated.
The oppressive silence was broken by the clang of steel against stone, the distant echo of a clash that sent shivers down my spine. It was a sound that spoke of a desperate struggle, a duel of titans.
"That must be Oliver," Nepheli breathed, her voice laced with both worry and awe.
Edgar nodded grimly. "He's facing Godrick."
A surge of urgency propelled us forward. We had to reach Oliver, to support him in his fight against the monstrous demigod. But Stormveil Castle was a labyrinth, its twisting corridors and hidden chambers designed to disorient and confuse.
We pressed on, our senses heightened, alert for any sign of Oliver's battle. The silence was broken only by our own ragged breaths and the clatter of our weapons against the cold stone floor.
As we rounded a corner, a chilling sight met our eyes. A grotesque tableau of grafted horrors, their bodies a macabre tapestry of mismatched limbs and tormented faces, barred our path. They were Godrick's most twisted creations, a testament to his depravity.
"Disgusting," Nepheli spat, her voice filled with revulsion.
"They're an abomination," Edgar growled, his grip tightening on his axe. "But they won't stop us."
With a battle cry, we charged into the fray, our weapons a whirlwind of righteous fury against the grotesque horde. The clash of steel echoed through the castle, a symphony of defiance against Godrick's twisted reign.
We fought with the desperation of those who knew their leader's life hung in the balance. Each strike, each parry, was fueled by the hope that we could reach Oliver in time, that we could turn the tide of this desperate battle.
The path to Godrick was paved with blood and sacrifice, but we would not falter. We would fight our way through the horrors of Stormveil Castle, for Oliver, for Limgrave, and for the future of the Lands Between.
The grafted horrors, a macabre mockery of life, fought with a frenzied desperation. Their mismatched limbs flailed, blades and claws tearing through the air. Each strike was unpredictable, each movement a grotesque dance of death.
Yet, our determination was unwavering. Edgar, a whirlwind of righteous fury, cleaved through the monstrosities with his axe, each swing a thunderous declaration of defiance. Nepheli, nimble and precise, weaved between their attacks, her spear finding vulnerable points with deadly accuracy.
Gwentan and Arwent, their arrows finding gaps in the chaos, felled the creatures from afar, their every shot a testament to their unwavering focus. And Skullduggery, a phantom of vengeance, haunted the battlefield, his spectral blades leaving trails of eerie light as they pierced through grafted flesh.
The stench of blood and the guttural cries of the abominations filled the air, creating a symphony of horror. But amidst the chaos, our unity remained unbroken. We fought as one, our hearts and minds focused on reaching Oliver, on turning the tide of the battle that raged beyond these twisted hallways.
With each fallen foe, our path forward became clearer. We pressed on, our resolve unwavering, our spirits unyielding. The horrors of Stormveil Castle would not deter us. We would reach Oliver, we would stand by his side, and together, we would bring an end to Godrick's reign of terror.
The path to the heart of Stormveil was fraught with peril. We faced wave after wave of Godrick's soldiers, their desperation growing with each fallen comrade. We navigated treacherous traps, dodged flaming arrows, and even scaled the castle's towering walls to bypass heavily guarded gates.
Along the way, we encountered other Tarnished who had answered the call to arms. Rogier, the sorcerer, materialized from thin air, his spells a welcome addition to our arsenal. He spoke of a shared purpose, a desire to see Godrick's reign brought to an end.
With Rogier's aid, we battled our way through the castle's defenses. We felled monstrous giants, their earth-shaking footsteps replaced by the silence of death. We dodged the razor-sharp beaks of monstrous birds, their screeches echoing through the halls as they plummeted from the sky.
And finally, we reached the grand arena, its air thick with anticipation and the metallic tang of blood. The clash of steel reverberated through the chamber, a symphony of violence that spoke of a desperate struggle.
We emerged from the shadows, our gazes drawn to the center of the arena. There, amidst a whirlwind of blades and incantations, stood Oliver, his form a blur as he clashed with the monstrous Godrick.
The demigod, a grotesque amalgamation of grafted limbs and stolen power, towered over Oliver, his roars echoing through the chamber. But Oliver was unyielding, his movements a dance of death as he parried Godrick's blows and countered with his own ferocious strikes.
Venom's presence was palpable, his shadowy tendrils lashing out, adding to the chaos of the battle. The air crackled with energy, the very stones of the arena trembling under the force of their clash.
We watched, our hearts pounding, our breaths held captive by the sheer intensity of the spectacle before us. The fate of Limgrave, the future of the Lands Between, hung in the balance of this epic confrontation.