Chapter 36

Nyra adjusted her cloak, her brows furrowing. "What are you planning to do?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with curiosity. She had expected an immediate assault, yet here he was, pausing when every second mattered.

He turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Take Agheel and wipe out the soldiers at the castle's entrance. Leave nothing standing."

Her amber eyes widened slightly. "And you? What about you?"

"I'll deal with Margit, the Fell Omen," he said, his tone unwavering. "When the gates are clear, and I'm at the threshold of Stormveil, I want you to arrive with Agheel. Make sure the Fell Omen knows despair before I finish him."

"But… why?" she asked, her hesitation evident. "Why split up like this? It's risky."

"No 'why,'" he said sharply, his gaze locking onto hers. "Just do it. I'll explain later."

Before she could protest further, he leapt from Agheel's back, landing gracefully on the rocky ground below. Drawing his weapon, he turned toward the path leading to Castel Entrance.

She then commanded the dragon to take flight. "Agheel, burn them all. Leave nothing but ash in your wake."

The spectral dragon roared in response, its ghostly flames igniting with renewed fury. With a single powerful beat of its wings, it soared into the skies, carrying Nyra above the castle's outer grounds. Below, soldiers scrambled in confusion, their cries of alarm echoing as they caught sight of the draconic specter.

Nyra leaned forward, her gaze sharp as she directed Agheel. "The gates first. Then the perimeter."

Agheel obeyed, opening its massive maw. A torrent of ghostflame poured forth, engulfing the soldiers at the castle's entrance. The flames moved like a living entity, consuming armor, flesh, and stone alike, leaving only charred remnants in their path.

The defenders' resistance was futile. Arrows and spears aimed at Agheel were either incinerated mid-air or passed harmlessly through its spectral form.

He strode forward, the path cleared by Nyra and the dragon's wrath. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt flesh and scorched earth, but he paid it no mind. His steps echoed against the cobblestones as he approached the massive entrance to Stormveil Castle, its towering gates looming in the distance.

From the shadows ahead, a voice rang out, low and grating, carrying an ancient malice.

"Foul Tarnished," it sneered, each word laced with disdain. "In search of the Elden Ring. Emboldened by the flame of ambition."

He stopped, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, his gaze narrowing as a figure emerged from the fog. Margit, the Fell Omen, stepped forward, his twisted staff tapping against the ground with a hollow clang.

"Hrah!" Margit growled, pointing his weapon. "Someone must extinguish thy flame. Let it be Margit the Fell!"

The creature moved with unnatural speed, lunging forward with a sweeping strike. He dodged, the staff narrowly missing as it crashed into the stone, splintering it like brittle wood.

Drawing his weapon, he retaliated, the clash of steel against Margit's staff reverberating through the desolate courtyard.

The battle was fierce, a blur of steel and shadows. He danced around Margit's sweeping strikes, his blade glinting in the dim light as it struck against the Fell Omen's staff. Sparks flew with each clash, the air humming with the tension of their struggle.

Margit's voice boomed again, filled with venom. "Thou art naught but a child grasping at power beyond thee! Thy flame shall be snuffed out like all the rest!"

He met the Fell Omen's gaze, unflinching. "Is that fear I see, Margit? Or have you already resigned yourself to your fate?"

Before Margit could reply, the sound of rushing wind filled the air, carrying with it a deep, resonant roar. Shadows darkened the battlefield as a massive figure descended from the sky. Agheel, spectral and wreathed in ghostflame, landed behind him, the impact shaking the ground.

Nyra leapt gracefully from the dragon's back. Her dark armor gleamed faintly, her twin daggers drawn and ready, their blades glinting with a cold light.

Margit froze, his grotesque form stiffening as his gaze darted between the spectral dragon and the infamous figure before him. "A Black Knife assassin... and a dragon?" His voice faltered, disbelief seeping into his words. "Thou dare bring such forces against me?!"

Nyra smirked, her amber eyes gleaming with icy determination. "The Fell Omen, trembling at the sight of his end. How quaint."

Margit's hesitation turned to fury, his staff slamming into the ground as ghostly blades materialized around him. "Such insolence! The grace of the Golden Order will not be defiled by thy treachery!"

Agheel let out another roar, its ghostflame flaring as it spread its wings, creating an imposing wall of spectral fire. Nyra stepped forward, her daggers spinning in her hands. "Your Golden Order cannot save you now," she said, her voice calm yet dripping with menace.

He, still poised for battle, gestured toward Nyra with a subtle nod. "End him quickly. He's not worth the dragon's flames."

Margit howled in rage, lunging toward them with reckless abandon. But as Nyra dashed forward, her movements a blur, it became clear the tide had turned. She moved like a shadow, her daggers finding their mark with unerring precision, each strike chipping away at Margit's defenses.

From above, Agheel watched, its presence alone a harbinger of doom. With a final roar, the dragon unleashed a stream of ghostflame, the fiery torrent forcing Margit to retreat.

"You cannot escape!" 

Margit, cornered and desperate, let out a guttural scream. "This isn't the end, Tarnished! Thy ruin is written in the stars!"

As he fell to his knees, his grotesque form fading into mist, Nyra stood over him, her daggers dripping with spectral light. She turned to him, her smirk fading into a look of grim satisfaction.

"The path to the castle is clear," she said.

"Hmm..." He muttered as he looked at the screen in front of him.

[Mission: Defeat Margit, The Fell Omen Before Tarnished]

Reward: TreeSpear, 25,000 Runes

[Completed]

"Now, what's the use of a TreeSpear and runes now?" he muttered, glancing at the rewards with little interest.

Suddenly, another mission notification appeared.

[New Mission]

Mission: Defeat Dogrick, The Grafted

Rewards:

Item Name: Soulstone Elixir

Item Type: Legendary Consumable

Description: The Soulstone Elixir is a rare and ancient concoction crafted from the essence of a shattered soulstone, a mystical artifact that exists between realms. The elixir has the unique property of restoring the body of a spirit. It draws on the energy of the soulstone's power, stitching together the spirit's essence and binding it to a newly forged body, a process that can restore even the most fractured of souls.

"Huh Ok now this is somthing good"he muttured 

He barely spared a glance at the mission screen before turning to Nyra. "Let's go, Nyra. We'll kill Godrick quickly and take his Great Rune. No point in wasting time."