Gawain led his horse and looked back. The Kaiden Mercenaries had finished slaughtering the remaining Misbegotten. These creatures, devoid of any concept of tactical coordination and capable only of howling and wild flailing, were no match for disciplined mercenaries. Facing them was nothing short of a one-sided massacre.
Galvin sheathed his blood-stained blade and signaled his men to scavenge anything useful from the corpses. Seeing that Lady Irina had been safely rescued, he let out a heavy sigh of relief. Although he had rarely spoken more than a few words to the young lady, he didn't want to be the one to tell the Castellan that his daughter had died under his watch. He wouldn't have the face to see Edgar again.
Gawain pointed to the three charred corpses of the assassins and whispered, "Those were assassins sent by the Two Fingers. This rebellion is more complicated than you think. I suspect there are still traitors within the castle walls. I don't know Morne's personnel well, so I'll be counting on you to root them out when we arrive."
Galvin's brow furrowed. He kept the secret to himself, choosing not to alert the others just yet; the implications were far too heavy.
He finally understood why the Misbegotten, who had lived in uneasy peace for so long, had suddenly revolted with such speed and scale. There was a hidden hand pushing them from the shadows.
However, the immediate priority was to reclaim the castle. Investigating the mastermind would have to wait until they reached the interior.
"Lady Irina, you likely remember me," Galvin said. "What is the current situation at Castle Morne? Can you tell us in detail? We are likely the only reinforcements coming."
Irina had some memory of this Kaiden Mercenary; she had often heard him conversing with her father.
"Galvin? Thank heavens I can hear your voice again. I left Castle Morne about four days ago. When I fled, the Misbegotten had already breached the center of the castle. My father should be protecting the remaining residents and soldiers, holding out on the ramparts. I don't know how much longer they can last... especially since there is a particularly powerful Leonine Misbegotten among them. It stole a treasure of Castle Morne, and no one could withstand its strikes."
Gawain knew exactly what she meant: the creature that had taken the Grafted Blade Greatsword. It seemed likely that agents of the Two Fingers had delivered the weapon to the Leonine Misbegotten to spark the uprising, ensuring the rebellion would spiral out of control. An elite foe wielding a legendary weapon was something Edgar, a mere Banished Knight, would struggle to stop.
"We keep moving," Gawain declared. "We need to reach the outer ramparts of Castle Morne tonight. We'll rest there to recover our strength and strike at dawn. I hope we're still in time."
Galvin agreed. Days of high-intensity travel had exhausted him, to say nothing of his men. Based on their pace, they would reach the outer walls just as night fell. They needed rest; otherwise, they wouldn't have the stamina to face the swarms gathered at the castle.
He felt a stroke of luck for having met this strange Tarnished. Though he hadn't seen exactly how the man dispatched the assassins during the skirmish, the results were undeniable. Those piles of ash on the ground didn't lie.
Remounting, the group pushed onward. Irina sat behind Gawain. Now that the immediate threat to her life had passed, her heart grew heavy. She knew that if she had been attacked by Misbegotten and assassins, it meant those who stayed behind to cover her escape had likely met a grim end.
Just as she feared, they hadn't gone far before they found a group of Misbegotten blocking the road. Beside them lay a pile of desecrated corpses, barely recognizable. Overturned wooden carts and tattered banners identified the fallen.
Without a word, Gawain and the mercenaries cut down every Misbegotten on the spot in grim silence. They took the time to gather the remains of the soldiers and hide them in a secluded hollow. It was a humble gesture, but better than leaving them for the crows. Once the rebellion was quelled, they would return for a proper burial. For now, their task was simple: vengeance.
Gawain could feel Irina trembling behind him. Though she bit her lip and said nothing, her soft, muffled sobs told of her grief for the dead.
By the time total darkness fell, the group reached the outer ramparts. Beyond these walls lay the main body of Castle Morne. They made camp for the night.
Gawain didn't see the Night's Cavalry that usually patrolled here in the game. He could only guess that since they were Morgott's personal agents, they wouldn't stay in one spot forever, even if they roamed the Lands Between. However, the nomadic merchant was still there.
The merchant initially looked ready to bolt when he saw a group of armed, grim-faced men approaching on horseback, but he resigned himself to fate when he realized he couldn't outrun them. Fortunately, these men had no interest in causing trouble; they were simply camping, just like him.
Gawain used some Runes to trade with the merchant for useful supplies. The loot from the day's Misbegotten kills was substantial, and combined with the Runes from the Grafted Scion, he had plenty to spend.
He purchased a Stonesword Key and a Crimson Amber Medallion. Though he lacked a talisman pouch to activate the medallion's effects, it was better to have it now. Guided by his will, a stream of Runes flowed from his body to the merchant's hand—the standard method of transaction in the Lands Between.
After the trade, the merchant's attitude shifted significantly, becoming quite talkative.
"Elder, you've been here a while. Do you know what's happening in the castle?" Gawain asked.
The merchant shook his head. His people were unwelcome everywhere and rarely entered the castle to trade, so he knew little of the specifics.
"I don't know the state of Morne, but that Golem at the gate has been acting strange. For the last few days, it's been firing arrows at thin air for no reason. And you'd best be careful—the Misbegotten on the cliffs over there seem off. I often hear strange sounds coming from above."
"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."
Gawain knew what the merchant was warning them about. At the top of those cliffs lay the Ailing Village, where Misbegotten and victims of the Frenzied Flame lived in a mad co-existence. God only knew what those lunatics might do. The Kaiden Mercenaries were finally relaxing after their journey, so Gawain decided to stay vigilant and watch the perimeter.
As for the Golem's erratic behavior, he suspected someone had tampered with it. Otherwise, the Golem's massive bow could have provided enough fire superiority to keep the rebellion from ever getting this bad.
Gawain looked around; there seemed to be no immediate danger. He decided to check on Irina's injury. Her ankle was badly swollen, and if left untreated, it would only get worse.
Irina sat quietly on a simple mat. The blindfold over her eyes was damp with tears. Hearing someone approach, she hurriedly wiped her face.
"Worried about your father?" Gawain asked.
"Yes... not just him, but the residents too. When my father helped me escape, I could hear the screams of the people surrounded by those creatures. I'm almost glad I'm blind now; I can't imagine the horror of what Morne looks like."
"We'll know tomorrow. For now, let me see your ankle. It will only swell more if we leave it."
Irina hesitated, then extended her red, swollen left foot. She wanted to know more about the person who had saved her. In her mind, she imagined him as the model knight her father used to tell stories about—the kind of hero who appeared only in times of great need.
Without her realizing it, Gawain had slipped a ring onto his finger and held a simple talisman in his left hand. The ring was engraved with the image of a kind old woman cradling an infant—the Priestess Ring. It boosted his Faith to 14, just enough to cast basic Miracles like Heal.
Irina felt her foot enveloped in a pool of warm light. Under the radiance of the Miracle, the swelling receded, and the sharp pain vanished.
"Thank you. May I know your name? Everything was so rushed today; I haven't even had the chance to ask."
"Me? You can call me Gawain."
"Gawain... it sounds like the name of a knight."
Gawain smiled. People had said that to him often before he transmigrated, especially when he was playing in the "backyard." But after crossing into Dark Souls, he had become a true knight.
"You're not wrong. I was once a member of the Blade of the Darkmoon."
He thought of the white figure trapped atop the Prison Tower in Anor Londo. There, he had become the last—and only—member of the Darkmoon covenant besides the Company Captain herself.
After defeating Aldrich, he had helped Company Captain Yorshka down from the tower. Upon learning of her brother's fate, she had chosen to remain in the depths of Anor Londo, serving as the new Dark Sun to guard the desolate city.
He wondered how she was doing. A vast amount of time had passed since he reached the Kiln—so much time that all lands had converged. He softly recited the words spoken when he was knighted:
"If thou shalt swear by the Covenant of the Darkmoon, to hunt the transgressors of the gods. As the shadow of our Father Gwyn and Sister Gwynevere. A sword to smite the enemies of the gods. I shall guard thee, and by the Dark Sun and the power of the Darkmoon, help thee strike down thy foes."
Irina listened in silence. She didn't know the names he mentioned, but she could sense a grand, sweeping history behind them.
"What happened after that? Why are you here on the Weeping Peninsula?"
"After that... I fulfilled my duty as a knight. I smote the transgressor. When everything ended, I came to the Lands Between and met you. But no matter the world, a knight's duty remains the same: to protect those in need and strike down the wicked."
"Then... would you be willing to be my knight? Help me strike down those cruel Misbegotten, even if only for a short time? My father will surely reward you."
Irina felt she was being impolite, but she desperately hoped he would agree to her selfish request. She knew how dangerous Morne was, and her only real wish was to see her father safe.
Gawain laughed. Even putting aside the legendary sword and the Castellan's potential aid, the sight of those desecrated residents on the road was reason enough to act. He was, at his core, a bit of a softie.
"Since you put it that way, I would be honored to serve you. Lady Irina, I shall act as your knight and strike down those wicked transgressors."
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