After picking up the Spirit Ashes of StormHawk King, Lucian stepped through the door on the terrace.
This door connected the terrace with the second floor of the starting chamber. At the far end of the corridor, a lone chest bathed in a pale white glow awaited.
He approached and opened it. Inside lay another Spirit Ash— StormHawk Deenh.
StormHawk Deenh had once been the second strongest of the Stormhawks, second only to the King. Fierce and loyal, it had served the King to the very end.
With both items collected, Lucian knew what came next—he'd have to face the terrifying Grafted Scion.
He turned to leave, only to freeze as he heard a faint rustling sound. Something was crawling… rapidly approaching.
Before he could react, a massive figure crashed down in front of him.
The creature's immense body was a grotesque amalgamation of limbs—legs upon legs, some ending in feet, others in hands. A deep blue peacock-like feathered cloak veiled its patchwork form, stitched together with parts of many species. Only its head and a single arm remained its own. A handsome, pale noble face sat grotesquely atop its abominable body.
Two right arms gripped Ornamental Straight Sword. A powerful left arm held a Golden Beast Crest Shield.
Lucian swallowed hard. His body wanted to flee, but his legs wouldn't obey.
The Grafted Scion shouldn't be here. By all game logic, it should've been stationed beyond the Marika statue.
Was it the storm earlier? Or the noise from breaking the door?
"Shhhhk! Shhhhk!"
The noble abomination didn't give him time to think. Its twin swords lashed out in a flurry of thrusts.
Lucian instinctively raised his shield to block. The first strike slammed it aside with brute force. The second pierced his left pauldron.
His armor held, but the impact left half his body numb.
He retaliated with a slash from his straight sword—only for it to clang harmlessly off the shield.
The strength difference is too great!
Fighting head-on was suicide. The narrow chapel offered no room to maneuver, no chance to outpace the monster. If he couldn't overpower it, then he had to outwit it.
Backing toward the railing of the second floor, Lucian focused all his attention on the creature's movements, waiting… watching…
A horizontal double slash—he ducked under it.
A shield bash—he rolled away just in time, the floor beneath him trembling from the impact.
And then—it came.
The Grafted Scion turned its body, raised both swords high, then lunged forward in a brutal storm of thrusts.
Lucian was ready. He dove forward, rolling between its legs, then slammed his shoulder into its back in a makeshift tackle.
The Grafted Scion, already off balance, crashed through the railing and plummeted to the floor below.
The cramped chapel turned from a disadvantage into an asset. The massive creature lay stunned, limbs sprawled.
Lucian seized the opportunity. He drew his long halberd and began stabbing down from the second floor. Black, foul-smelling blood splattered as the axe blade cleaved through small, wriggling limbs.
But the moment couldn't last.
The Grafted Scion grunted, shielding its core with the Golden Beast Crest Shield as it began to right itself.
One of its sword-wielding arms came into view, just beyond the shield's edge.
Lucian didn't hesitate. He swung with all his might.
Schlick!
The arm severed, hitting the floor with a thud.
Elated, Lucian felt hope for the first time.
But it was short-lived.
The Grafted Scion roared—not in pain, but in fury. A concussive bellow reverberated through the chapel, drilling into Lucian's skull.
He screamed, blood trickling from his ears, eyes, nose. His knees buckled.
The monstrous noble clambered up the wall, using its remaining limbs to drag its massive frame back to the second floor.
Lucian could only watch as it crept closer, eyes blazing with rage.
Through that twisted glare, he saw his fate—torn apart, repurposed as one more grotesque limb.
Staggering back, he reached the edge. If I jump… maybe like in the game… I might survive.
But his body, battered by the scream, refused to cooperate. He stumbled. Fell.
Lying on his back, he stared at the approaching horror.
I don't want to die… But I can't win. I'm just too weak.
If only I had the skills of a true Tarnished…
The Grafted Scion loomed over him, sword raised.
Lucian shut his eyes.
This is it.
Shhhk!
Ting!
But the expected agony never came.
Instead, a familiar ding echoed.
Lucian opened his eyes—and gasped.
A translucent black interface had appeared before him: the Wind Spirit Moon Shadow Mod Menu.
The stabbing sword now hovered uselessly against his chest.
Function 1: Invincibility Mode (Auto-Activated, 2 Seconds Remaining)
Lucian smiled.
He was going to live.