Engvall sized up the Lord of Blood standing before him. Though he didn't voice it, he harbored deep wariness toward this group—and especially toward the Sovereign himself.
This was a power that had emerged from nowhere. Their origins were a mystery, which meant their true depth was unknown. While the strength shown during the Liurnia campaign was formidable, Engvall knew it was likely only the tip of the iceberg.
Then there was the Cursed Blood power derived from the Formless Mother. Even if he hated to admit it, that power posed a significant threat to him. Although the Lord of Blood's physical constitution was currently far inferior to his own, Engvall knew that properly wielded Cursed Blood could bridge that gap.
He could counter it with the power of storms and lightning, but the "lethality" each side represented was on entirely different levels.
Furthermore, there was Mohg's uncanny method of concealment. Had Engvall not reached a level of mastery over the storm that allowed him to sense the slightest disturbance in the air, he might truly have failed to detect the Sovereign's presence.
If even he found it troublesome, his subordinates would be helpless. If the Lord of Blood used this ability for assassinations combined with his overwhelming frontal combat strength... Engvall shuddered to imagine the carnage.
"In this cooperation, the Mohgwyn Dynasty is willing to let the Storm Dynasty take the lead," Mohg began. "After all, you are the primary force standing against the Erdtree. We shall act as your support. In return, we can provide an ample supply of Cursed-Blood Pots and Bloodroses, provided you can supply the raw materials."
"Mhm... a fair offer. But it is not enough. I require your manpower."
"Understood. I shall dispatch my warriors to participate in the war against the Erdtree. However, the lives of my soldiers belong to me. If you intend to use my kin as mere fodder, I will pull them from the battlefield immediately."
"You need not worry about that," Engvall waved a hand dismissively. "I am no fool. Warriors wielding the power of Cursed Blood can punch several classes above their weight; using such an elite assassination force as fodder would be a waste beyond measure. Slaves exist to fill the trenches with their lives."
"Good. Furthermore, Storm King, we require more food and equipment. Without proper logistics, we cannot exert our full combat potential."
"Oh? You seem remarkably short on resources."
Engvall narrowed his eyes. Mohg saw through the probe immediately—the King was fishing for information on their internal state. However, Mohg saw no reason to hide the truth from him.
He wasn't worried about Engvall trying to win over his warriors. It wasn't just about his confidence in their loyalty; he knew that while some fought for the Dynasty out of pure faith, others were driven by bloodlust and desire. He kept a mental tally of the latter, leaving them for Holuf to deal with if they ever became a problem.
The real reason he didn't worry was that Engvall only valued the power of Cursed Blood.
And the blessings Mohg bestowed were powers he fundamentally controlled. In other words, if these warriors ever truly betrayed him, he could simply revoke the Cursed Blood within them. Without that power, would they be worth anything to a man like Engvall?
That was the core of Mohg's confidence.
On the other hand... Engvall's fate was already sealed by history. Mohg had no personal attachment to the man and had no intention of exerting himself to change that outcome—unless the King was willing to become his subordinate.
But that was impossible. As the King of the Storm, anyone else might surrender, but he never would. Though the people and soldiers under his rule held mixed opinions of him, the pride in his bones had never vanished. Faced with death, the only end he would accept was fighting until his last breath.
Therefore, Mohg had only one design for the man: his body and blood after death. The blood of a peak demigod would surely push Mohg's own strength to a new height.
"Indeed. Since its inception, the Mohgwyn Dynasty has lived in the shadow of the Erdtree, forced to take root in the darkness. We are desperately short of resources, which is why I seized Fort Gael from the Kouler Dynasty."
"I see. Since we are now allies, I can agree to provide material aid."
"One more thing, Storm King... I have a proposal. Whether you accept is entirely up to you."
"Hmm?" Engvall looked at him curiously. Mohg let a mysterious smile play on his lips.
"I can bestow my blessing upon your own warriors. You may choose the candidates yourself. I will be responsible for granting the Blood Blessing, and I can guarantee they will not suffer the side effects of Cursed Blood. What say you?"
Engvall immediately bristled with suspicion, eyeing Mohg with blatant distrust. Mohg didn't flinch, meeting the King's gaze with calm silence.
He harbored no immediate ill intent here. Engvall likely feared that Mohg would use these soldiers against his Dynasty once the war was won. In reality, Mohg's plan was simpler: once the Storm Dynasty fell, those who had received the Blood Blessing could be seamlessly absorbed into his own ranks. They would be ready-made elite units that didn't require further conversion.
Engvall considered it for a moment before agreeing. In his mind, a demigod could not interfere with someone else who shared the same blessing. On this point, Engvall wasn't strictly wrong—he simply didn't realize that Mohg wasn't a standard demigod. He was a demigod who had already touched the domains of faith and spiritual power.
With the divine bloodline already in his veins, combined with the potent blessings of the Aspects of the Crucible, the presence of a Great Rune, and the constant nourishment of spiritual energy... Mohg was a being who, even without a mind, would eventually evolve into a god-like entity given enough time.
Through constant experimentation, he had already mastered a portion of the Formless Mother's power. He was touching the realm of the gods; he just needed more time.
"Today's meeting has been most productive. However, the hour grows late. I must take my leave." Mohg gave a formal parting bow.
"I realized I still do not know your name."
"My name? Mohg, Storm King. That is my name."
"Mohg... I shall remember it," Engvall nodded. "Since we are allies, let us exchange envoys to reside in each other's strongholds. It would make communication far less cumbersome."
"Exchange personnel? Haha, I'm afraid you misunderstand, Storm King. The Mohgwyn Dynasty is not a power that stands openly in the Lands Between. We have no intention of exposing ourselves. Consequently, I cannot allow anyone from the surface to enter our Dynasty."
"But do not worry. I shall send a trusted subordinate to reside in your capital. If you wish to contact me, speak to him. He is a man of absolute reliability."
"So, Fort Gael is not your true base of operations?"
"Is that not obvious?" Mohg chuckled. Engvall remained silent for a moment before nodding slowly.
"The Golden Order cares little for those hiding in the shadows; they focus on those who dare to challenge their authority in the light. Fort Gael is a target... a very obvious one."
"...You are a dangerous man," Engvall said, his gaze heavy with gravity.
"This is merely the survival strategy of the weak. Until we meet again, Storm King."
With those words, Mohg dissolved into a pool of blood and vanished, returning to the Dynasty. Engvall stared at the spot where the blood had been, his expression grim.
"My King, what now?" Oleg asked.
"Continue with my previous orders. As for the Mohgwyn Dynasty... have Buggyes receive their envoy when he arrives. And keep an eye on Koruzé."
"Understood." Oleg nodded. He didn't have a high opinion of the minister, mostly due to the man's corruption and blatant thirst for power. Oleg had investigated him thoroughly and knew exactly what lengths the man would go to for status.
However, Koruzé was undeniably capable. That was likely the only reason the King kept him around, and with Buggyes watching over him, he hadn't been a major concern. Still, Oleg had a nagging feeling that the man would not remain steady during the coming war.
Meanwhile, the man in question, Koruzé, was currently gathering the palace guard. He was preparing to deal with the "unstable" nobles in the capital.
He fully intended to use this opportunity to strike at his political rivals, but he knew he had to perform some genuine service first to keep up appearances.
Identifying these "unstable" nobles wasn't difficult. There was currently a vocal "Peace Faction" in the capital. They argued for eternal friendship with the Golden Order, suggesting that the Storm Dynasty should simply submit, as the Order's unification of the continent was "inevitable." They claimed that continued resistance would only lead to their destruction.
Initially, their voices were quiet. While some nobles were cowardly, they knew that previous factions that fought the Golden Order were usually wiped out entirely. They assumed the Order didn't accept surrenders. But after the example of Caria, their voices grew loud.
The Carian nobility and royalty had survived the war and maintained relative independence. This precedent shifted the atmosphere in the Storm Dynasty. The prospect of retaining their status and high-born lifestyle without having to fight was an offer no noble could refuse.
They were now campaigning frantically for peace, pressuring Engvall to marry off his eldest daughter to the First Prince of Leyndell.
Anyone with eyes could see this wasn't an "alliance." They were offering the Princess as a sacrificial lamb—a tool for appeasement. The Storm King, naturally, would never agree; it was an insult to his very existence.
Dealing with these people was the "dirty work" Engvall had assigned to Koruzé.
But what choice did the minister have? Everything he owned came from the King. His subordinates only respected him because of the King's shadow.
"Sovereign, how did the negotiations go?" Nibbla asked cautiously as Mohg returned.
Mohg glanced at him. "Everything went smoothly. The alliance is finalized. I'll leave the logistical details to Holuf and Pilar."
Pilar had been pulled away from his research into the Crucible for this. Mohg was short on people familiar with diplomacy and etiquette; Pilar, having served as a high priest, was the perfect fit.
Since Nibbla couldn't be sent back to the Storm capital, Pilar was his only choice.
"I suspect the Storm King will figure out your situation before long," Mohg said, looking at Nibbla. "Be prepared."
Nibbla blinked, then nodded slowly. "I know. After the last incident, the King must already suspect me. I have made my choice, and I am ready for the consequences."
----Support me here: https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
If you'd like to read ahead, you can subscribe for early access. I also have several other novels in my collection that you might enjoy!
Also, if there's a particular novel you're enjoying on Patreon, please give it a 'like' so I know to focus on updating it.
Join the journey and become part of the story!