Departure! Castle Morne!

The battle was finally over.

Xia Tong and Melina came to sit beside the Site of Grace.

During this journey, Xia Tong had accumulated more than three thousand Runes throughout the Tombsward Catacombs.

Together with what remained from before, he had over four thousand.

Without hesitation, he gave Melina more than two thousand Runes to make up for the depletion of her spirit form caused by forcibly stepping in and blocking the Frenzied Flame Envoy.

Including what he had just obtained from the envoy, Xia Tong still had a little over three thousand Runes left.

With Melina's help, Xia Tong leveled up once more.

Perhaps it was because he had nearly been drained dry by the Cemetery Shade in the Tombsward Catacombs.

This time, Xia Tong discovered that his vigor had increased by one as well.

As for his level-up points, he resolutely put them into Mind again.

Opening the panel:

Level: 24

Runes Held: 132

Vigor: 18

Mind: 26

Endurance: 10

Strength: 18

Dexterity: 14

Intelligence: 18

Faith: 2

Arcane: 10

Xia Tong looked with satisfaction at the increase in Focus Points brought by Mind.

With 26 Mind, Xia Tong's maximum Focus Points had reached 146.

After all, his Focus Point consumption in this battle had been enormous. To conserve them, he had not even summoned the Spirit Jellyfish.

Afterward, with Melina's help, Xia Tong redistributed his Flask uses.

Three Crimson Tear Flask charges and two Cerulean Tear Flask charges.

For him now, mana was combat power.

Fortunately, leveling was relatively easy at this stage. Next, Xia Tong needed to hurry and find a second Golden Seed.

Yet something was rather strange.

In the game's original setting, there had been a young Erdtree in front of Castle Morne's walls, where there should have been a Golden Seed.

But he had searched carefully at the time and found nothing.

Clearly, this real world differed from the game and was not always exactly the same.

Just like the Golden Seed on Stormhill: it had been in a dense forest rather than beside the main road where it had originally been.

Still, Xia Tong was not worried.

The Tarnished always had an inexplicable sense for Golden Seeds.

That unseen guidance would always lead him to one at the right moment.

Atop the tallest tower of Castle Morne.

Lord Edgar slumped wearily in a stone chair.

His helmet had long since been lost somewhere, and his face was covered in blackened soot and grime.

Beneath his armor were countless wounds from the fierce fighting.

With the battle pressing urgently upon them, he had only hurriedly applied some white medicinal powder to stop the bleeding. He did not even have time to bandage himself.

Yet the exhaustion and pain in his body were not what troubled Edgar most.

He bowed his head, listening to the faint howls of Misbegotten below the tower, and murmured softly:

"I wonder how Irina is doing..."

His wife had died in childbirth while giving birth to Irina.

And Irina had been born blind.

After that, people secretly regarded her as a symbol of ill omen.

But as her father, Edgar had never despised his daughter.

Using his authority as lord of the castle, he did everything he could to provide Irina with the finest education, food, clothing, and comforts.

That was why she had not grown into an insecure child, but instead became a humble, polite, kind, and sincere young woman.

It was only because she could not see that she often lacked a sense of security deep down.

"Someone!"

The longing and worry made Edgar deeply agitated, and he suddenly shouted.

A Castle Morne Soldier, equally exhausted, staggered over to Edgar.

"Has there been any reply to the request for aid sent to Lord Godrick?"

"My lord, not yet."

"It was sent a week ago. Even if Stormveil Castle were slow, there should have been a reply by now."

At that, Edgar became furious.

The soldier looked troubled before quietly adding:

"My lord, several waves of messengers have gone already. Not one has returned, and..."

"And what?"

Edgar was already irritable.

"Stop stammering. Say whatever you need to say! We're already at this point—what is there left that cannot be said?!"

The soldier gritted his teeth and said:

"My lord, this isn't the first time."

"Stormveil Castle has never been willing to pay us much attention. They only show us a pleasant face when it is time to hand over the annual tribute."

"Damn it!"

Edgar smashed his fist into the ground in rage, cracking several pieces of the hard stone floor.

"No matter what, Castle Morne is part of Godrick's territory, yet he can just ignore us like this!"

"To defend this castle, I cannot even spare the attention to look after my daughter!"

"That damned Godrick!"

"Grafting, grafting, grafting all day long! Did he graft a sow's ass onto his own head?!"

After his fury subsided, cold reality immediately dragged him back.

He took a deep breath and asked:

"How much longer can we hold? How much food do we have left?"

After taking stock, the soldier reported despairingly:

"Those Misbegotten are all thick-skinned and monstrously strong. It often takes two brothers just to barely handle one."

"When we encounter those especially massive Scaly Misbegotten, it gets even harder. It takes nearly three or four men just to hold them off."

"As for provisions... even with the supplies temporarily salvaged and brought to the tower, they can only last two days at most."

"What about that Lion Misbegotten? And the treasure that guards this castle—the Grafted Blade Greatsword!"

That was what Edgar cared about most.

"The Lion Misbegotten was terrifying. It killed more than a dozen of our brothers in one go, but after taking the Grafted Blade Greatsword, it disappeared."

"Fortunately, it did not continue attacking. Otherwise, we would have fallen long ago."

Edgar closed his eyes, utterly despondent, and waved his hand.

"Tell the brothers not to charge recklessly. Hold the line and defend!"

"Hold out for as long as we can!"

He had no other choice now but to delay as much as possible.

Though he did not know what they could possibly be waiting for by dragging things out, every extra moment alive was still a moment alive.

The horse raced like a charging steed, its bowstring thunderous as lightning.

Before setting out, Xia Tong had transferred most of his supplies, including the camping equipment, into the Site of Grace Space.

As a result, Torrent's packs held only a few things and were extremely light.

Xia Tong and Irina rode at full speed down the main road to the south.

In just half a day, they arrived before Castle Morne's walls.

Beside that familiar Site of Grace sat the wandering Moen, dressed in vivid ethnic garb.

"Hello, old friend. Long time no see."

Xia Tong swung down from his horse and greeted him.

"Oh, Xia Tong, my good brother. Looking to buy something?"

Moen looked up and revealed his trademark shrewd smile.

Xia Tong immediately felt the urge to roll his eyes.

Why is he trying to fleece me the moment we meet?

There really was some spare equipment in the Site of Grace Space that he had not sold, but Xia Tong was not in the mood for business now.

He exchanged a few pleasantries with Moen, then set up a pot beside the bonfire.

Along the way, he had deliberately gathered some Whiteflesh Mushrooms and wood ear mushrooms.

He ground Smoldering Butterfly scales into powder, giving the broth a fierce, domineering heat.

Then there was the distinctive fragrance carried by Herba.

He tossed it all into the pot and simmered it together with smoked Rolling Sheep jerky.

Naturally, the jerky had to be chopped up first, then boiled into a thick, hearty pot of soup.

This was Xia Tong's special creation—the Lands Between version of peppery hot soup.