35. Those Unblessed by Gold Receive the Blessing of Silver
Dang!
The scarlet spear and the cursed sword collided violently, spurting blood around them that was then twisted and distorted in mid-air, transforming into dozens of ferocious bloodhounds, fangs bared, tearing at Morgott.
Morgott's arm muscles flexed, and then he exerted a sudden force, knocking Mohg back. Simultaneously, the cursed sword in his hand vanished into a shadow, slaying all the bloodhounds that charged at him.
Mohg, who was sent flying by Morgott, landed steadily on the ground. He looked at Morgott with both hands spread wide.
"Brother, you've grown weaker. Where's the Golden Rule you believe in? Why don't you pray it here?"
Morgott said nothing, merely tightening his grip on the sword. With the advent of a new era, gold had been replaced by silver. Without the blessing of gold, how could he pray with it?
Mohg, after observing Morgott's silence, confirmed his suspicions. At that moment, he smiled. A smile of unbridled ferocity. His laughter echoed around the place.
Hahahahahahaha!
The Golden Rule just vanished like that—or, more accurately, replaced. How could he not be happy?
He didn't know exactly what had happened, but the Golden Rule's demise was enough to fill him with ecstasy. The rule that had once oppressed and imprisoned him... had finally come to an end!
Morgott stood silently, watching his brother's unbridled laughter. Only when the laughter died down did Mohg look up again:
"Brother..."
"Have you pledged allegiance to the new king?"
Morgott's silence echoed above the pool of blood.
Mohg stared at him, taking his silence as tacit agreement—if his brother hadn't pledged allegiance to the new king, why would he stand here, facing him with a sword? He slowly extended his hand, his voice low and earnest:
"Brother... come to my side."
"Instead of serving others, why don't you and I join forces?"
"We will definitely create a new dynasty."
Morgott looked at his brother's serious expression and closed his eyes in pain. In that moment, he knew his brother had reached a point of no return. He firmly believed that his ideal dynasty would come, but Morgott could assure him with absolute certainty that it was impossible!
The path guided by Outer Gods, such as the 'Mother of Truth', will only lead to destruction.
Mohg sensed his brother's increasingly fierce and hostile aura, then slowly withdrew his hand, his tone tinged with regret:
"Without the Golden Vow... Brother, how can you contend with me?"
"Of course, I can."
Just as Mohg was about to say something else, an unfamiliar voice suddenly interrupted the battle—
"Giant Demon Gravel!"
A brilliant, magical light descended from the sky, bearing directly on Mohg's face!
Mohg frowned, raised his hand, and the pool of blood beneath his feet instantly surged, transforming into a crimson barrier that blocked the blow.
He looked up coldly—
The Tarnished was slowly descending, a lingering melody of gravity magic surrounding him. Landing on the ground, the Tarnished gave Morgott a thumbs-up and grinned:
"Although I may be a bit ordinary compared to those guys..."
"But I'm still quite confident in my magic."
"So—"
"Go ahead!"
Morgott looked at the Tarnished's raised thumbs-up, his lips curled slightly.
"...Ha, then I'll leave it to you."
"The Tarnished... Brother, are you actually going to end up with this kind of wretch?"
Mohg's voice was tinged with contempt, but before he could finish his words, Morgott was already on his feet!
Even without the Golden Vow, Morgott's battle-hardened body remained a formidable sight. The cursed sword ripped through the air, forcing Mohg back several steps. Sparks flew as spear and sword collided, and before Morgott could make his next move, the blood magic Mohg had secretly condensed suddenly erupted. A thick wave of blood rose from the ground like a venomous snake, hurtling towards Morgott's throat!
However, the blood wave froze in mid-air.
A brilliant streak of pyroxene magic arrived first, precisely intercepting the wave. The moment the two magical forces collided, the blood was violently shattered, falling in a foul-smelling rain of blood.
"What!"
The Tarnished stood quietly, a complex magic circle unfolding beneath his feet. Countless magically enshrouded stones hovered around him, like stars circling him.
Facing Mohg's stunned gaze, the Tarnished's lips curled slightly.
—He had indeed said that compared to those chat group friends, he was ordinary, even a little humble.
But when it came to magic...
He was incredibly confident. He was the Tarnished, a being unblemished by any blessings.
Descendant of a warrior family, but he couldn't even lift a greatsword. Strengthless in the chaotic wilderness beyond the Lands Between, he could do nothing but flee. Every day, he dodged natural and man-made disasters, watching those around him fall one by one.
Weak, humble, living a miserable existence.
—Until he encountered magic.
Magic—
How magical.
The Tarnished had lamented countless times that learning magic was the best decision of his life. The moment his fingertips first touched pyroxene and felt the magic flow in it, his life changed forever.
He was no longer the weakling who could only flee in the wilderness.
He joined a chat group and met three other friends.
The Hero Xiling led him into various ruins in search of magic, calling it adventure and exploration.
The high school student Kevin introduced him to all kinds of new things, calling it entertainment. The Sankta, named Lemuen, had only recently awakened from a coma and was unable to participate in other activities, but she would always invite them for afternoon tea, calling it a team-building event.
The Tarnished felt that joining the chat group was the happiest thing in his life. Those days were ordinary yet warm. He spent his days in the ruins studying magic, joking and playing with his friends, and even briefly thought that this happiness could last forever.
But he knew in his heart: it couldn't.
Kevin's world would eventually face a crisis of annihilation. Xiling, as a hero, was destined to face the Demon King. Even if they smiled lightly daily, the shadow of disaster never dissipated.
He didn't want to lose them.
So he had to become stronger!
So he devoted himself to learning and improving magic, confident that his mastery was unmatched by anyone!
Mohg had never felt such a strong sense of oppression. His brother, Morgott, the man who once defended the royal capital as The Omen King, carried a thousand-forged fighting spirit with every sword strike. What if he didn't have the blessing of the Golden Vow? His swordplay was etched into his bones and blood, becoming an instinct.
And Mohg himself... it had been too long since he'd truly fought.
"Clang!"
The cursed sword and spear collided again, sparks flying everywhere. Morgott's attacks grew increasingly ferocious, as if he had completely abandoned defense, each strike carrying a resolute determination for utter destruction. Mohg's knuckles cracked, blood trickling down his wrists, yet he didn't even have a chance to breathe.
He tried to cast blood magic to force his brother back, but every time the spell was about to form—
"Pyroxene Comet!"
The Tarnished's magic always struck first, precisely interrupting his chant. The suspended pyroxene, like living stars, blocked all possible routes for his counterattack.
"Damn it...!"
Mohg's pupils constricted, his thoughts racing.
If this continues, his defeat is inevitable!
That troublesome Tarnished must be dealt with first!
"Ahhh!"
He suddenly exposed a flaw, taking Morgott's slash on his chest! Blood splattered, and his body flew backward like a kite with its string cut.
Morgott suddenly leaped up, his cursed sword raised high, intending to pursue—
(No...!)
Morgott, mid-air, suddenly noticed something was wrong, but it was too late to change his tactics!
"Crash!"
"Mohg," who was sent flying, suddenly turned into a pool of blood in mid-air, vanishing without a trace.
Mohg, transformed into blood, vanished before the two men. When he reappeared, he was already beside the Tarnished. Without hesitation, he thrusted down with his spear, imbued with blood magic.
"Die, you lowly Tarnished!"
Faced with Mohg's sudden appearance, the Tarnished was about to deliver the gift he had been preparing for so long, when something unexpected happened...
The sound of something breaking through the air reached Mohg's ears, and his expression changed. A familiar power was rapidly approaching from behind him. The opponent's speed was swift. Making a mental judgment, Mohg immediately abandoned his attack on the Tarnished and defended his chest with his spear.
"BOOM!!!!"
An unimaginable force erupted!
Mohg was sent flying backward like a cannonball, crashing through several stone walls before slamming heavily into the depths of the blood pool. The crimson liquid exploded into a wave several meters high, and the entire Mohgwyn Palace trembled under the impact.
"Cough... Hahaha..."
Mohg rose from the ground, spreading his hands and exclaiming,
"Hahaha, brother, you finally used that power!"
The Tarnished looked at Morgott, who stood before him. His appearance had completely changed. His cursed sword had turned completely crimson, and the runes on its blade were writhing like a living thing. Even more terrifying was Morgott himself—dark red veins emerged beneath his skin, spreading like tree roots. With every heartbeat, a blood mist oozed from his pores.
Cough, cough.
Morgott coughed twice and looked down at the Tarnished.
"Sorry, it was my mistake. I won't let him get close to you again. Please continue to support me."
The Tarnished chuckled.
"Well, then, I'll leave it to you."
"Leave it to me."
As the two conversed, a dramatic transformation occurred on Mohg's side. A pair of wings suddenly blossomed from behind him, and the sound of dense footsteps could be heard in the distance. Mohg floated in mid-air, his hoarse voice echoing like thunder:
"Give up... You're facing the entirety of Mohgwyn Palace!"
At that moment, countless soldiers appeared from a distance. Mohg manipulated his blood magic in mid-air, condensing it into a massive spear.
"That's quite a challenge," the Tarnished tilted his head to look at Morgott and asked.
"What do you think?"
Morgott didn't answer.
He simply closed his eyes.
The disappearance of the Golden Rule forced Morgott to use the power he loathed. He had no other choice. The urge to defeat Mohg and protect those behind him surged through his mind...
At that moment, cursed blood surged wildly within him, burning every vein as if it were being burned by molten lava. Intense pain spread throughout his body, yet it also brought him unprecedented strength.
Not enough!
I need more!
As if responding to his desire, the cursed blood boiled again! Even more violent power poured into his every limb—and with it a nearly unbearable pain. Just as his consciousness was about to be consumed by the pain—
A cool feeling suddenly spread from his chest.
It was... a silvery glow!
The pain receded like a tide, and Morgott suddenly opened his eyes, just in time to see Mohg's blood-red spear tearing through the air!
In the Tarnished's hand, the magic spell of Comet Azrael had been concentrated to its utmost limit, its brilliant light illuminating the entire ground—
But it was no longer necessary.
"Swish!"
A flash of silver-white sword light pierced the darkness.
The blood-red spear shattered upon contact with the sword light, transforming into a rain of blood. Mohg's eyes widened in disbelief, staring intently at the silvery glow on Morgott's cursed sword—
"That was..."
His words stopped abruptly.
A flash of silver light passed, and the blood-red wings shattered. Mohg's body plummeted from the sky, slamming heavily into the pool of blood, sending up a wave of crimson spray. The entire Mohgwyn Palace fell into a dead silence.
And the royal capital welcomed its first guest...
Sitting on the throne, Xiling looked at the massive figure and the mark on the back of his hand.