Filed Nails
He tried shifting the selected objects in vain—the skill seemed to have a will of its own. It was adamant, so he acquiesced. He willed his acceptance, and a familiar dark gold swallowed the Greatspear along with the Golden Seed and Amber Starlight Shard, retreating into his soul's endless mass of grey mist.
He waited in silence for a few moments, but its incubation seemed to continue. So, he began scaling the last few hundred feet of the cliff that stood between him and his forces, not before assigning the large chunk of stat and skill points he'd gained.
(Strength: 25 -> 31)
Strength was easily his favourite stat. Still, dumping everything into it was not very wise. Thankfully, Godrick was not known for his wisdom.
Normally, a mild increase in strength would strain and stretch his muscles for a few seconds at most, but this was no mild increase.
This time, his body tore, ripped, and patched back together, trying to keep up with the reckless increase in power. His pain receptors were nearly overwhelmed, but to Godrick, it felt akin to heaven. Every stat point he gained counted for more than the previous one. It was quite evident among his soldiers, where one with 10 in strength had far more than just double the strength of one with 5 strength.
Godrick now had 31, and passing the thirty threshold felt like another watershed where his being was fundamentally altered.
"Hahahahaaa!!!"
Crazed laughter escaped him before he stood back up, his strength bleeding out into reality. He felt dense. More real, as though his actions had a greater impact on the world.
[Order Meditation (Passive) Level 13 -> 14 -> 15 (Max): Use a visualization of the Elden Ring to greatly increase your FP regeneration (+10 -> 13 FP/s). Every level increases Mind and Intelligence by 0.5. Mind +0.5. Intelligence +0.5.]
[Observe (Active) Level 1 -> 2 (Max): When activated on a target, gain its basic -> advanced information. The amount of information is proportional to the difference in stats between you and the target.]
(Mind: 26.4 -> 28.4
Intelligence: 23.2 -> 25.2)
His brow lightly furrowed as both Order Meditation and Observe hit their limits. While 13 FP/s was an incredible boost that would make even the most prodigious sorcerer envious, he wanted more, but it seemed that even the System had limits.
It seemed that he had to increase his mind the normal way now.
Godrick's fingers dug into the rock with ease as he vaulted over the cliff and onto the grass before he was seated on Elrus with a flash of purple light, riding off in the direction of the Tibia Mariner Village.
The sun had long set, moonlight the only thing guiding his path, its pale rays from the gibbous moon ominous.
***
Earnan possessed the Night Cavalry's flail, and Gilika and Forthus were strong enough to take down a troll if they worked together. Thus, Godrick didn't believe they would fail against Those Who Live In Death, but it seemed that nothing in the Lands Between went as planned.
As Elrus neared the village, the temperature seemed to drop ever so slightly while the howling winds were silenced.
That was... familiar.
Elrus pushed forward even faster than before, and Godrick's surroundings began to twist and turn as the Funeral Steed's hooves bent space and time. A few minutes later, he finally arrived to the sounds of steel and the smell of blood.
A weary Elrus vanished into his ring as Godrick beheld a scene far beyond his expectations.
The battlefield was littered with the bodies of Demi-Human whelps, their larger variants, and the occasional fallen soldier, scattered across the grass, mud, and milky waters. Blood seeped into the earth, staining the once-still pools red and transforming the serene landscape into a gruesome pond of blood.
The Tibia Mariner had vanished, leaving only the shattered bones of its summoned skeletons, strewn across the village now reduced to a blood-soaked wasteland.
"Behind me! Forthus, to your left!" Earnan's voice rang out above the chaos, as he, alongside Gilika and Forthus, formed a defensive wall between the carnage's instigator and the remnants of their freshly slaughtered comrades.
A fairly large contingent of Leyndell soldiers cut into his forces with ruthless abandon. They were precise, fierce, and trained for decades, yet his troops still managed to fend them off using their superior numbers and stronger champions. Unfortunately, said champions were currently occupied with holding off the leader of the ambush team.
A Night Cavalry sat on a Funeral Steed, a massive black glaive in its hand that swung forward with terrifying force to and fro. Gilika was nearly overpowered, her overwhelming strength suppressed by greater skill and power. Earan, Grimm, and Gromm assisted her as best they could but were steadily losing ground.
It was only a matter of time before Gilika fell and his troops were routed, but that was only if he hadn't arrived.
[Lansseax's Glaive]
Ancient Dragon Lightning was never known for its finesse, though prodigies like Placidusax and Fortissax managed to wield it so. No, it was known for power, and it showed.
The world momentarily lit up red gold, and Godrick's increased mind further enhanced its destructive power as it buried into the ranks of the knights and soldiers who were clad and brandishing gold.
[Leyndell Knight Killed *5. +750 EXP]
[Leyndell Soldier Killed *48. +4800 EXP]
Screams of agony were abruptly silenced as lightning tore through the ambush team, atomizing them in an instant. A dazed Night Cavalry remained, gripping a half-melted glaive, smoke rising from its armour, now face-to-face with Godrick's troops—who could only stare in stunned disbelief at the Demigod before them.
"Hahaha! He's here!" Forthus yelled out in relief, nursing a sprained shoulder, blood dripping down his chin, while Earnan and Gilika helped the remaining troops retreat, renewed hope blazing in their eyes.
The Night Cavalry's helm let out an odd gurgle and turned its Funeral Steed to face Godrick, pointing its singed glaive at him.
"Hrgh!!!"
Godrick looked back at it with an impassive expression, standing on the bodies of his men and Demi-Humans. His size and weight made his boots sink into their flesh and get drenched in blood.
He knew any other leader would've been enraged seeing the scene. The names of every single dead Demi-Human and soldier popped up in his head as he looked around. He had taught them, talked with them, and trained them to fight by his side.
Now they were all dead, glassy-eyed and mutilated, yet Godrick felt just as he would if he took a walk in a beautiful garden. The grey emptiness had swallowed his heart long before he was born.
He wanted to feel angry. He wished to rage and roar, but all that emotion seemed alien.
"Hrhgh!!!" the Night Cavalry sounded once more as the moonlight reflected off its partially melted armour.
[Observe]
(Character Sheet
Night's Cavalry
Age: Two hundred and five, three months old
HP: 150
FP: 200
Strength: 24
Dexterity: 26.4
Endurance: 27
Vigor: 15
Mind: 20
Intelligence: 11
Faith: 29
Skills:
[Constitution of the Erdtree (Passive): +10 Strength. +10 Dexterity. +10 Endurance. +20 Faith]
[Blood of the Grace-Given (Passive): +10 Endurance.]
[Flail Mastery (Passive) Level 2: Barely proficient with flails.]
[Glaive Mastery (Passive) Level 5: Adequately proficient with Glaives.])
"I'm going to beat thy omen-loving face into the ground," Godrick growled, directing his nonexistent frustrations at the Night Cavalry and flicked his hand, drawing the Dragon Slayer from the Arsenal.
***
The gigantic slab of iron sank into the mushy ground, bisecting a Demi-Human's body by merely falling a few feet.
Godrick's large hand wrapped around its hilt, and the veins on his arms bulged as he managed to slowly raise it into the air.
Heavy!
Just how strong was The Black Swordsman to have swung this like a feather? If even Godrick struggled with such immense strength, then how could a mortal have done anything other than look at it? Did it have to do with the swordsman's skill?
"Raah!!!"
Unfortunately, the Night Cavalry didn't give him the courtesy of pondering over his questions, bursting out of the shadows akin to a wraith, swinging down the heavy glaive with animalistic ferocity.
Godrick stood his ground, unflinching. At the last second, he swung the greatsword up to meet the blow. Steel clashed against iron in a violent explosion of sparks. The force of the impact shook the ground, but he held firm, feet digging into the blood-soaked flesh and dirt.
Unlike the Greatspear, he had no experience in using a Greatsword. He had none of the finesse of the Black Swordsman but what did have was power and the near-insane will to gut his opponent like a dog.
The Night Cavalry wheeled around, swift as a shadow, and struck again. This time, the glaive found its mark, carving deep into Godrick's side. Blood dripped down his skin, but he barely noticed. Instead, he roared in anticipation, the pain only feeding his thirst for violence. The Night Cavalry had taken something that was his.
And now its life was forfeit.
"Hand of the Fell Omen, eh?", he growled swinging the greatsword in a wide arc, aiming to cleave through both horse and rider. But the Night Cavalry was quicker, ducking low, the glaive flashing out to strike at Godrick's legs. He leapt back, dodging by inches, and brought his sword down in a brutal counter.
"I wouldn't mind filing down that soulless bastard's nails."
The tip of the rock-blade caught the Cavalry's steed, slicing deep into its flank, breaking a bone. The horse shrieked and staggered, the rider barely managing to hold his balance. But it was fast—too fast—and even wounded, the steed charged again, glaive raised high.
Godrick slammed his greatsword into the ground, blocking the blow with raw strength alone. The force of the clash sent shockwaves through the battlefield. The Night Cavalry faltered, the glaive vibrating in his grip from the impact.
Even Leyndell-forged, Demigod-Blessed steel barely held a candle to the hunk of iron that was the Dragon Slayer.
With a savage roar, he swung the greatsword upward once more, catching the Funeral Steed under its jaw. Bone cracked, and blood sprayed as the beast crumpled, its rider thrown from the saddle.
A flash of purple light consumed the corpse as it was whisked back into the horned ring but Godrick paid it no heed, rushing forward with a grin, his muscles straining as he lugged the Dragon Slayer behind him.
The Night Cavalry rolled to its feet, but Godrick was already upon him. The knight slashed out with his glaive, but it was slower now, weaker. The Demigod batted it aside with a brutal swing and brought his greatsword crashing down. The edge of the rock-blade crushed through the knight's gauntlet, thoroughly shattering it.
The Night Cavalry staggered, clutching his ruined arm. For a moment, they stood there, face-to-face.
Two muscled behemoths glaring at each other with murder in their eyes. Yet only one would do right by their promise.
"Hrgh!"
The Night Cavalry spat thick, black blood as it weakly swung its glaive only to be caught by Godrick and lifted into the air, the Dragon Slayer impaling its midsection, ignoring the armour as though it were any other tunic.
The [Constitution of the Erdtree] made the Night Cavalry more resilient but that merely prolonged its suffering.
Its bloodied, armoured limbs flailed around as it slowly slid down the long blade of the Dragon Slayer, its guts and intestines getting caught in the jagged edges. Its helmet fell off as it reached the hilt, revealing a similar pale face with hints of omen horns but unlike its colleague, all that was present in those dark gold eyes was hate and pain.
Godrick's hand enveloped the Night Cavalry's, his fingers painfully digging into its skull.
"Send that ugly Erdtree-fucker my regards."
He squeezed.
[Night Cavalry Killed. +7000 EXP]
***
POWERSTONES! Else you get transmigrated into Elden Ring as a Commoner.