Damp... Ivory Sickle

The leader of the raid on the Village of the Albinaurics was an "Omen Hunter."

Having been through this once before, Tarnished was not surprised.

The hunter wore a bronze mask with a grinning expression, carried two large serrated cleavers, and had a bloodstained cloak draped over his shoulders. An almost tangible aura of menace and malice radiated from him, striking fear into anyone who looked at him.

Omen Hunters were beings who specialized in hunting Omen Children. Their job was to eliminate these inferior creatures denied the Erdtree's blessing. Albinaurics might not count toward their KPIs, but as artificial beings likewise denied the Erdtree's blessing, dealing with them still fell within their area of expertise.

Why could Gideon Ofnir order an Omen Hunter around? Tarnished was quite curious.

Maybe this guy just took a private commission to earn some extra cash?

With that thought, Tarnished entered the cliffside.

The Omen Hunter spotted an enemy, immediately let out a low growl, and rushed toward Tarnished.

Unhurried, Tarnished took out the Demi-Human Queen's Staff, cast Scholar's Shield on the Manor Towershield, then held it with both hands and braced for battle.

The Omen Hunter soon came within striking range. He leaped high and swung both cleavers downward. The powerful plunging strike whistled sharply through the air before slamming into the Manor Towershield with a deafening clang.

Tarnished remained as steady as a rock, not budging an inch.

Undeterred, the Omen Hunter pressed his attack.

He jumped and struck downward again. Tarnished kept the shield raised and defended.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

The Omen Hunter delivered eight consecutive jumping strikes, and Tarnished blocked all eight.

This simple exchange of attack and defense produced the most direct of clashes, exhausting both combatants. But there was one difference: the Omen Hunter was alone, while Tarnished was not.

"I've got companions. What have you got?" Tarnished shouted. "Nepheli!"

A figure leaped out from behind Tarnished, bringing two Stormhawk Axes wreathed in lightning and storm crashing down toward the executioner's head.

"Feel the edge of Tarnished's blade! Lightning-Whirlwind Slash!"

Amid a thunderous roar, one axe beheaded the Omen Hunter, and the other cleaved him in half at the waist. Blood sprayed as the reaper of lives became the reaped, his sinful flesh torn apart and set ablaze in the righteous storm and lightning.

The Village of the Albinaurics was saved. Rather than being destroyed by one person's ambition, it had survived through everyone's united efforts.

The bad guys died, and the good guys lived. There was no better story than that, was there?

The Albinaurics embraced one another, grateful to have survived the disaster.

Those who remained in the village were all elderly or frail. As artificial beings, they had an innate defect: their legs wore down as they aged, and once that deterioration reached a certain point, the Albinaurics would die.

Seeing how difficult it was for the Albinaurics to get around, Edgar simply ordered the army to help. They often repaired roads and built bridges in Limgrave anyway, so cleaning up the aftermath was familiar work.

The soldiers restored the roads, repaired damaged homes, and demolished unsafe buildings. Most importantly, they helped gather the bodies-the invaders' corpses were burned, while those of the Albinaurics were carefully prepared and given proper burials.

A small graveyard appeared on the little cliff. The grave markers made from branches were rather flimsy, but they were enough to give the living somewhere to place their feelings. The bereaved wept quietly beside the graves, their grief finally finding an outlet.

"I'm sorry. This is all we can do." Filled with regret, Irina said to Alpas, the village chief, "We don't know the Albinaurics' funeral customs. Please forgive us if we've done anything disrespectful."

"No, I should be thanking you," Alpas hurriedly said. "Being laid to rest is enough. We Albinaurics don't really have any funeral customs."

"You don't?" Irina was a little surprised. Even Demi-Humans had funeral customs of their own.

Seeing her confusion, Alpas sighed softly. "Albinaurics are artificial beings with silver-white blood flowing through our veins. We cannot receive the Erdtree's blessing and have always been considered heretics. At the height of the Erdtree's power, we were used as experimental subjects. Then the Elden Ring shattered and the Shattering began, and because our bodies naturally resist the Golden Order, various demigods captured us for research. We cannot even live out our natural lifespans, let alone develop funeral traditions."

"How could they?" Shocked that such cruelty existed in the world, Irina exclaimed, "Even if Albinaurics are artificial beings, aren't you just like us? Using living people for experiments is going too far!"

"It isn't up to us whether we count as living beings." Alpas sighed again. "If looking similar were enough for us to be accepted, that would be wonderful. For ordinary people, judging by appearances might be unfair and insulting, but for Albinaurics, it would be more than we could ever dare dream of."

Irina was speechless. She had heard stories of Albinaurics while living a sheltered life at home and had thought this artificial race was a marvel of ingenuity. She had never imagined their lives were so miserable.

After a moment, she made up her mind. "This is wrong. Whether you are artificial or natural beings, life should never be treated so cheaply. Come to Stormveil. No one there will ever hurt you!"

Alpas froze. "But all Albinaurics are heretics. Would taking us in really not cause you trouble?"

"If there is trouble, we'll face it together," Irina said sincerely. "Tarnished said there's strength in numbers. It is precisely because we are weak that we should stand together. Don't worry. Stormveil welcomes everyone."

"Well..." Alpas hesitated for a few seconds before finally saying, "Lady Irina, your kindness is more beautiful than the stars above. I am deeply grateful for your invitation, but... may I speak to Lord Tarnished in person?"

"Of course. I'll take you there right now."

Elsewhere, Tarnished was discussing the cleanup with Edgar and the others.

"This Omen Hunter was actually a puppet," Nepheli revealed startlingly. "I saw him at my foster father's... at Gideon Ofnir's place. Apparently, he was borrowed from someone named Seluvis."

"Oh, so this was one of Seluvis's puppets?" Understanding dawned on Tarnished. "No wonder he obeyed Gideon Ofnir. I thought this Omen Hunter had taken a private job."

"You know this Seluvis?" Edgar asked.

Oh, I know him very well.

Tarnished nodded. "Seluvis is a professor of sorcery at Raya Lucaria Academy. He's powerful enough to have his own sorcerer's tower. But his character leaves much to be desired, and his interests are particularly vile. He loves turning living people into all kinds of puppets. He even turned a friend of Gideon Ofnir's into one. I'd assumed that had ended their relationship, but apparently they're still working together."

"I've never heard Gideon Ofnir mention any of this," Nepheli said in surprise. "How did you find out?"

"Uh..." Tarnished thought for a moment, then gave the standard answer. "Kenneth Haight told me."

Nepheli understood at once and said admiringly, "As expected of the Haight family. Such extensive knowledge! It's wonderful that you have him to assist you."

"Yes, yes." Tarnished gave a dry laugh.

Edgar glanced at Tarnished. Other people might not know what Kenneth was capable of, but how could he not? Still, since Tarnished had said it, he had no intention of exposing the lie. As for why Tarnished was using Kenneth as a cover, that could wait until Tarnished wanted to tell everyone.

Having learned about Seluvis, Edgar began his professional analysis. "Gideon Ofnir borrowed the Omen Hunter puppet from Seluvis, and Seluvis is a professor of sorcery at Raya Lucaria Academy. Doesn't that suggest Gideon Ofnir has some connection with the academy? The Liurnia Region, where the Village of the Albinaurics is located, is academy territory. For safety's sake, we'd better not linger here too long."

Although Gideon Ofnir had shown no connection to the academy last time, it was better to be safe than sorry. Tarnished immediately nodded. "Then let's head back."

"What about the Albinaurics?" Nepheli asked.

"Ask whether they want to join Stormveil. If they do, we'll take them with us."

"Then I'll fetch the village chief."

Nepheli was just about to go when Irina arrived with Alpas.

"My respects, Lord Tarnished!" Upon seeing Tarnished, Alpas immediately prostrated himself, knocking his head against the ground with a thud.

Tarnished helped him up. "There's no need for such a grand gesture. We don't do that here."

"Your benevolence is as vast as the lakes of Liurnia," Alpas praised again.

Irina said, "Tarnished, the Albinaurics have suffered so much. Life should never be treated that way. Let them join Stormveil."

"I was thinking the same thing." Tarnished looked at Alpas. "What do you think, village chief? I won't claim Stormveil is wonderful, but at least no one there will persecute you anymore. If you stay here, there's no telling whether another attack will come, and we can't guarantee we'll arrive in time every time."

Alpas bowed his head to the ground again, refusing to let anyone pull him up. He said earnestly, "Your army saved us and helped us. I have no doubt of your kindness, for your actions have already proven it. I know that if I simply nod, we can become your subjects and receive your protection. But I cannot deceive someone so kind. What I must tell you is that everyone in the Village of the Albinaurics follows Lord Miquella. Once we find the way to the Haligtree, we will go to serve the god we have chosen. Even so, are you still willing to take us in?"

Irina froze; she had known nothing about this. Nepheli frowned slightly, while Edgar gave a cold snort. "It was Stormveil's army that saved you from the butcher's blade, not your god. You ungrateful-"

Tarnished raised a hand to stop Edgar and asked Alpas, "Miquella the Demigod?"

Alpas pressed his forehead against the ground and replied respectfully, "Yes."

He knew his words were utterly foolish. He could have received protection simply by saying nothing, but he truly could not bear to deceive someone who sincerely wanted to help them.

Feeling the atmosphere around him turn rigid, Alpas thought Stormveil Castle would surely refuse to shelter the Albinaurics now. To his surprise, however, Tarnished nodded.

"That's fine. The Albinaurics can leave whenever they wish. Until then, come to Stormveil."

Everyone was shocked. Edgar said urgently, "Tarnished, you're letting your emotions rule you again. What's the point of taking in people who are bound to leave?"

"First, as Irina said, life shouldn't be treated that way. Second..." Tarnished smiled. "I'm not as noble as you think. I have my own reasons for taking in the Albinaurics. Our industries keep expanding, and we're desperately short of workers. Their arrival will solve our immediate problem. They're artificial beings. They may not be as hardworking and tireless as Those Who Live in Death, but they're stronger than natural beings and consume less. They're the best cattle... workers, exactly the talent Stormveil urgently needs."

"Is that really it? You're not just handing out kindness indiscriminately?" Edgar asked skeptically. "I don't understand civil administration, so don't lie to me."

"Absolutely genuine. If Kenneth and Rogier were here, they'd definitely agree."

"Fine. Since your reasoning makes sense, I have no grounds to object." Edgar relented.

Tarnished looked at Irina and Nepheli next. Neither woman objected.

"Then it's settled." Tarnished said to Alpas, "Stormveil will take in the Albinaurics, and when you find the way to the Haligtree, we won't stop you from leaving. In return, though, you must work for Stormveil. Don't worry. We won't use you as experimental subjects or send you onto the battlefield as cannon fodder. It'll just be ordinary production work. Is that all right?"

"Y-yes, absolutely!" Alpas was overwhelmed with excitement. He had never expected Tarnished to remain willing to shelter the Albinaurics after hearing the truth. He hurriedly declared, "As you said, Albinaurics will be the finest workers. We can work sixteen... no, eighteen hours a day. All we need is somewhere to stay and a few scraps of your leftover food."

"There's no need for that. Stormveil isn't some den of horrors, and I'm not a demon. Eighteen-hour workdays are a bit much. Let's make it sixteen. You'll receive the same treatment as the other workers, with properly equipped dormitories and three meals a day from the canteen." After a moment's thought, Tarnished added, "But I must prioritize my own subjects, so the Albinaurics won't receive the extra subsidies and allowances. I hope you understand."

Of course Alpas understood. He could only understand. He had to understand!

In truth, he had already gone blank upon hearing "three meals a day." He wondered whether something was wrong with his ears. Working for Stormveil really meant three meals a day, rather than one meal every three days?

After receiving confirmation, Alpas wept bitterly. He knocked his head against the ground so hard that he drew blood, and in the end, Irina had to cast a healing spell on him.

To express his gratitude, Alpas presented Tarnished with a gift: a small sickle made of ivory.

[Ivory Sickle]: A small sickle made of ivory, wielded by elderly Albinaurics. They volunteer to serve the Haligtree they have never seen, and this is proof of their service.

"This is a token passed down through generations of Albinaurics. With it, you can recruit others scattered across the land," Alpas said respectfully. "Especially Second-Generation Albinaurics, the ones with enormous round heads. They may look comical, but they no longer suffer from deteriorating legs, and their lifespans and physical strength are greatly improved. They are the finest workers. Stormveil absolutely must not let them slip away."

"Good grief. You're planning to sell all your own people to Stormveil as workers," Edgar couldn't help remarking.

Tarnished corrected him. "Watch your words. It's called recommending talent without excluding your own people."

Then Tarnished accepted the Ivory Sickle and asked Alpas, "So all I have to do is hold this to recruit Albinaurics? What if they won't come?"

"Then tell me!" Like the finest HR manager, Alpas thumped his chest and said, "I'll personally break their legs and chain them up in Stormveil!"

Tarnished couldn't help laughing, and everyone else laughed too. Amid the laughter, Tarnished gave the order:

"Let's go home. We've won!"