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Chapter 59 - Godrick's Response

Stormveil Castle.

Godrick, seated at the head of the council chamber, slowly approached a messenger. Before the soldier lay an arm radiating an abyssal aura.

"My lord, we found this unusual grafting material in eastern Limgrave. We present it to you."

"It looks promising. What exactly is the situation there?"

"The Farron Undead Legion fought a duel with Frieren the Slayer. The epicenter was Fort Haight; the surrounding forests and plains were scorched by intense fire, and the residual magic is immense..."

The messenger detailed the findings of their investigation:

It was certain that both combatants possessed considerable power; the scale of destruction was a testament to their strength. For the people living near the noble estates, it must have seemed like witnessing a cataclysmic battle.

At the same time, the messenger mentioned they were unwelcome in eastern Limgrave, their investigation obstructed.

Of course, this was a tactful euphemism. The underlying meaning was clear: disloyal and alienated, the nobles there were drifting further and further away from Stormveil Castle.

What was to be done?

All eyes in the chamber turned to the head seat. They had gathered precisely to discuss these signs of rebellion. The ruler's definition of the situation was crucial: should they dispatch troops to the noble territories to quell the uprising, or focus on strengthening the castle's defenses?

"Wait. I need to attach this arm first."

Godrick picked up the severed arm and jammed it forcefully under his robes. A sickening crunch echoed as it fused seamlessly.

A light unique to the Great Rune flared, and for an instant, overwhelming energy pulsed forth – the power of a primary fragment of the Elden Ring itself, immense and potent.

He effortlessly assimilated the new limb, simultaneously feeling the Abyss flow into him – that darkness born from human desire and malice. Information even flashed through his mind... the culprit responsible for corrupting the Farron Undead Legion:

High Lord Wolnir.

A mighty monarch who had conquered far and wide, ultimately embracing the Abyss for even greater power. Quite fitting.

"Just minor squabbles from outside the Lands Between, but it has its uses."

A demigod like himself wouldn't pay any mind to some unheard-of 'High Lord'. That fellow was probably weaker than Frieren the Slayer anyway. The key point was that the abyssal power had indeed strengthened him.

Excellent.

This unexpected boost brought a pleased expression to his face. He then scanned the room, speaking slowly, "No need for pretense. Admit it. The rebellion in eastern Limgrave is a reality. But more importantly, we need confirmation of the situation in the Weeping Peninsula. That will determine our military strategy."

"If Castle Morne is still under control, we launch a pincer attack to annihilate the rebel forces entrenched at Fort Haight. If not, we must prepare for a defensive siege and counterattack."

Unfortunately, the latest intelligence hadn't arrived yet...

Suddenly, a sharp cry echoed from the sky.

The massive wingspan of a Warhawk cast a shadow below. It brought news from the Weeping Peninsula.

In the age of the Stormhawk King, these beasts were stalwart companions to warriors, said to be capable of whipping up gales that swept through enemy ranks. Each wingbeat boosted morale, sometimes making them more troublesome than the Storm Knights themselves.

After the Golden Order conquered the region, many Warhawks were punished, though some entered the service of the Golden Lineage, monitoring the land.

A soldier quickly retrieved the message. As it circulated among the council members, their faces grew grim.

"My lord, frontline scouts confirm that Castle Morne has pledged allegiance to Frieren. Furthermore, they have cleared out the various caves across the Weeping Peninsula and consolidated the region."

"They are currently massing troops – numbering over ten thousand!"

Along with the report were detailed aerial reconnaissance maps, showing rough troop dispositions, proving the southern rebel army was substantial.

"Why are there so many blank areas? There's no intel on the main fortress road defenses?"

The Warhawk let out a mournful cry.

The nobles, also being Limgrave powers, were naturally wary of Stormveil's surveillance. As soon as Warhawks were spotted, they were targeted by crossbow snipers, often aided by coordinated attacks from dragons and Winged Misbegotten. They never missed their mark.

In short, critical areas were heavily defended and impossible to infiltrate. Near Castle Morne especially, any minor movement was met with a rain of magic arrows; spies sent there never returned.

Given the circumstances, the intelligence unit couldn't really be blamed. They had at least brought back momentous news:

Five days ago, the Ancient Hero of Zamor had joined Frieren.

The rebel forces had gained another formidable warrior. Even a hero from the War against the Giants was willing to accept Frieren's recruitment?

She has mettle!

Though they had never met, everyone could guess Frieren the Slayer must possess extraordinary charisma. Otherwise, she wouldn't have managed to gather the Black Knife Assassins, the eastern nobles, the Farron Undead Legion, Castle Morne, and Zamor along her path...

To put it bluntly, she had essentially consolidated the resources of an entire region. The addition of a powerhouse from the War against the Giants was particularly daunting; after all, many present had grown up hearing tales of the Evergaols.

Some officers looked nervous, deeply concerned about Stormveil's defenses.

"Leave the Ancient Hero of Zamor to me."

The speaker was a towering figure clad in ancient, bronze-colored heavy armor – a Crucible Knight. Part of the peerless army that fought alongside the First Lord, Godfrey, they had once subjugated the Lands Between. Since the Shattering, they served various masters, and one stood here now.

Ancient Dragons, Giants – all had fallen before them. To this day, Crucible Knights remained among the absolute elite.

There was another Crucible Knight held in a Limgrave Evergaol who could potentially be recruited. Even if he had been reluctant to participate in the Golden Order's internal conflicts, surely he wouldn't hesitate to fight fiercely against an external enemy.

Two Crucible Knights!

Even Godrick couldn't suppress his delight. "I leave it to you. And I will take the Tarnished's head – and graft her arm!"

"My lord, should we mobilize our forces then?"

"Don't forget, every Tarnished from the Roundtable Hold covets a Great Rune. We must not carelessly expose any weaknesses. Hold fast within Stormveil Castle."

"I concur. Regardless, they cannot field enough troops to breach these walls."

Having lived here for so many years, didn't they know how few soldiers Limgrave could truly muster? A negligible amount. Although the land was relatively preserved, it lacked martial prowess before the Shattering; few warriors naturally survived to this day.

Conscription?

No matter how hard the Tarnished tried, she couldn't assemble a significant army. Nothing to fear.

"My lord, one more thing: Margit has indicated he can deploy some Night's Cavalry to intercept the enemy along their route. Should we coordinate with them to eliminate the foe?"

"I have nothing to say to him. We defend according to our own plans. His forces will attack Tarnished on sight anyway."

Godrick, harbouring ambitions for the throne of the Golden Order himself, felt conflicted dealing with the Grace-Given Lord's subordinate. He felt they shouldn't become too entangled; sooner or later, he intended to lead Limgrave's forces to the Royal Capital himself.

And so, the meeting drew to a close.

A Shardbearer had given the threat sufficient attention, ordering the mobilization of western Limgrave's forces to concentrate at the main castle.

They needed one week to fully reinforce the city's defenses.

The land once most peaceful in the Lands Between was the first to raise the banner of rebellion. Now, after five thousand years of the Golden Order's steady decline, the spark of war had finally been reignited.

Soon, observers from all directions focused their attention here, immediately discovering that the main army emerging from the Weeping Peninsula was larger than anyone could have imagined.

Are these numbers serious?

____

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