Morgott protected this Dynasty, not the Tarnished, and not the Two Fingers before him.
He had never once wavered, and he continued,
"I can keep waiting. But if those Tarnished threaten the Dynasty, I will not give them another chance."
The Grace-Given Lord radiated a killing intent that made the blood run cold, and his icy gaze seemed as though it could pierce straight through a person's soul.
If the Tarnished and the Roundtable Hold dared betray the Order and the Dynasty, then even with the support of the Two Fingers behind them, he would show no mercy.
Morgott, the Omen, would use every ounce of his strength to erase them from this world completely.
The night was dark as ink, and the black cavalry had long since offered absolute loyalty to the Grace-Given Lord.
They moved through the darkness, and every charge they made brought death and ruin.
Those heroes who dared turn their backs on the Golden Dynasty would, in the end, become dead souls beneath pounding hooves, trampled and crushed without mercy.
This killing intent was so dense it nearly felt tangible, and even the lofty Two Fingers sensed the threat in it.
They understood clearly that the Omen's words were not empty bluster.
The Grace-Given Lord's loyalty did not come from blind obedience to the Fingers or the Greater Will, but from his love for the Dynasty itself.
The Finger Maiden, whose life should already have reached its end long ago, seemed remarkably calm instead.
The kindly old woman conveyed a new message.
"The Great Will faces an obstacle that must be removed. There are things that require your strength to handle."
Morgott did not know what obstacle they meant, but since the two sides were still cooperating, he simply nodded.
…
Along the winding lakeshore, Liurnia remained shrouded in endless strife.
The sudden arrival of unwelcome guests had thrown the region into chaos, trampling its peace and order at will, and there seemed to be no stopping their reckless rampage.
The knights and heroes were still holding council in Stormveil to the south. They were busy recruiting the brave and expanding their forces, throwing out runes as though they cost nothing.
Fame and fortune were both there, and countless people flocked to it. Even the wandering minstrels traveling from place to place seemed to have received favors, or perhaps orders.
Any bard who came out of Stormveil Castle, no matter where he went, sang only the legendary tale of that White Champion.
These bards painted the White Champion as incomparably great and noble, so extravagantly praised that they practically wanted to make him the destined chosen of the Lands Between, the supreme ruler worshipped by all.
And yet in truth, this so-called Tarnished Lord had not even fully unified Limgrave.
Riding his little steed, Nolan had only just crossed into the borders of Liurnia, with a lovely girl behind him.
Seated on the horse's back, the girl instinctively tightened her arms around him.
Melina lay quietly against Nolan's back. At first, her eyes were still somewhat distant and unfocused, as if she had only just awakened from a deep sleep.
But before long, she silently raised her head.
Her gaze fixed on that sharply defined face, and her expression gradually shifted from confusion to clarity.
"I didn't expect you to know the Empyrean's Shadow. Still, you should be careful. They are not simple."
Melina spoke softly, a faint note of worry in her voice.
Hearing that, Nolan turned his head slightly, a thoughtful smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
"Hmm, looks like you remembered something. Could it be that the closer we get to the Royal Capital, the clearer your memories become?"
"I don't know." Melina shook her head gently, her eyes carrying a trace of confusion and helplessness.
Seeing her like that, Nolan could not help feeling a little sorry for her, and he comforted her softly,
"Don't worry. No matter what happens, I'll stay by your side."
"I'll go with you all the way to that great city, and together we'll witness the past buried by time."
Hearing Nolan's steady, warm words, Melina felt slightly reassured, only to hear him continue,
"And you do not need to worry too much. I know Blaidd very well. What he feels for Ranni is real."
"But then again, making Her Highness wait this long must have left her terribly anxious."
Nolan muttered to himself.
Why would an Empyrean be anxious over you?
Melina's breathing suddenly caught. Her right eye slowly widened, and the calm on her face instantly gave way to tension.
As her thoughts raced, Melina gradually realized a crucial fact.
It was a question that had once troubled Godrick for a very long time, and one whose answer he had only found at the very end of his life.
This mysterious knight, closely tied to both the Haligtree and Caria, not only had a deep connection with the Empyrean's Shadow, but also shared an extremely unusual bond with the Lunar Princess.
Across the vast lake region known as Liurnia, a magnificent epic about an unnamed hero had been circulating for years.
It was said that this hero came from a distant foreign land, and no one knew his true name.
People only knew that he was the knight most cherished and trusted by the Lunar Princess, and that he bore Dark Moon as his title.
With extraordinary martial strength and remarkable wisdom, this valiant knight had restored Caria's former glory and become a great figure revered by countless Carians.
"The nameless hero from a distant land, the Dark Moon Knight."
Melina spoke softly.
"Oh, so you know of him too? If Her Highness the Princess has not granted a new knighthood all these years, then the person you mean should be me."
A bold smile spread across Nolan's face as he went on,
"But by now, my ambitions have only grown greater. Deep down, I'm hoping I can take one step further."
The Dark Moon Knight and the Carian Knight stood on completely equal footing, both belonging to the highest noble rank in Liurnia.
If someone at that height were to take just one more small step forward, then what would that become...
At that thought, Melina fell silent.
It seemed as though she had countless things she wanted to say, but when she opened her mouth, she found she had no idea what to say at all.
The Dark Moon Knight, one of the most mysterious figures in Liurnia.
The wandering minstrels had long since woven countless magnificent epics around him.
Some praised his supremely noble virtues. Others lavished praise on his unmatched wisdom.
Still others focused their words on his kind and generous heart, and on his fearless spirit in battle.
In the end, no matter from which angle one looked at this Dark Moon Knight, the conclusion was always the same.
He was, without question, a truly great hero worthy of the praise and admiration of all.
...
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