Rebellion at Castle Morne

The Tarnished enthusiastically held up the Brass Shield and jabbed the Great Epee this way and that, while Melina sank into thought.

[The Brass Shield requires 16 strength, and the Great Epee requires 15 strength and 16 dexterity. Using both requires 16 strength and 16 dexterity—exactly how the Tarnished allocated his stats. Did he plan all this beforehand? Could those 12 points in intelligence have some deeper meaning too? What were they for?]

As the girl pondered, the Tarnished suddenly called her name.

"Melu, you know what?"

Melina: ?

With a knowing expression, the Tarnished said, "Warriors actually go through three stages."

"Stage one: beginners. Once they pick up a shield, they never put it down. They keep it raised at all times, terrified of getting hurt."

"Stage two: veterans. They abandon their shields, understanding that offense is the best defense. They use two-handed weapons and strive to kill their enemies before they can attack, minimizing the danger."

"Stage three: masters. Everyone who reaches this stage has survived countless battles. They don't cling to any particular approach, instead choosing their tactics to suit the situation. They use shields wisely, raising them to block deadly attacks, but also lowering them to seize any opportunity to defeat their enemies."

Melina hadn't paid much attention at first, but after hearing his theory, she genuinely agreed. If the Tarnished could offer such insight, perhaps he wasn't as ridiculous as he appeared. Could he actually be dependable?

Then Tarny proudly declared as he continued jabbing from behind his shield, "And I'm at stage three!"

Melina: [...That's clearly stage one!]

Unfortunately, the Tarnished couldn't hear the girl's silent retort. He put away the Brass Shield and Great Epee and looked around. "This site of grace is called the Bridge of Sacrifice, so that must be the Bridge of Sacrifice over there. Sacrifices to whom? Sacrifices of what? Livestock? I love beef."

Melina was utterly speechless at his erratic train of thought. It was just a place name. Surely it didn't mean all that.

But after walking a few steps forward, the Tarnished spotted a pool of blood with several Godrick soldiers' bodies lying in it, much to his delight.

"Yay! More gear to loot!"

He had just placed his hand on a dead man's belt when a woman's voice sounded nearby. "Is someone there?"

The Tarnished looked up and saw a girl with a cloth over her eyes sitting on the stone steps beside the road.

A certain naked man shuddered all over again.

Melina: I have a bad feeling about this.

"She's so cute! She's my fifth wife now. Melu, you've dropped another place. You're wife number six."

Melina: [...Ha.]

"Miss, why are you here all alone?" The Tarnished had already walked over.

"Ah, there really is someone? Thank goodness." The blindfolded girl sounded somewhat breathless. "Please, hear me out. My name is Irina. I'm the daughter of the lord of Castle Morne, in the south of the Weeping Peninsula. The servants in the castle rose up in rebellion. I've been blind since birth, so I couldn't fully understand what was happening. But I heard terrifying howls from every direction. Father made me flee...but he stayed behind in the castle, believing it was his duty as its ruler."

"Your father is a remarkable man," the Tarnished praised.

"You're very kind. But I'm worried about him. The servants are furious. They hate all of us. Everyone who escaped with me was attacked and killed. Things are probably much the same inside Castle Morne. Could I ask you to deliver this letter to my father in the castle? Even if people call him a coward for abandoning it, I want him to leave. I want him to live."

"There's nothing wrong with worrying about your family." Then the Tarnished's tone shifted. "But if the lord flees, what happens to the soldiers still fighting there? What about the residents waiting to be rescued?"

Irina couldn't help sounding ashamed. "I really am too selfish. But Father is the only family I have left. Without him, I don't know how I could go on..."

The Tarnished sighed softly. "I'll go."

"What?"

"I said I'll go to Castle Morne," the Tarnished replied. "Fate brought us together, and that gives me a reason to act. Standing by while tragedy unfolds isn't my style. I'll go to Castle Morne, even if I can only save one more person."

"Really? Thank you so much!" Irina exclaimed. "But I can't offer you a suitable reward..."

The Tarnished smiled faintly. "No need. Fighting alongside someone as remarkable as your father is the best reward I could ask for!"

"Your integrity shines like a hero's. No, you are a hero!" Irina took out a handkerchief. "Please take this letter. Father is terribly stubborn, but he'll surely change his mind after reading it. If the situation is hopeless, please retreat with him. I'll pray for you here and wait for you both to return."

Rather than take the handkerchief, the Tarnished stepped closer.

Irina sounded puzzled. "Why do I feel like you're getting closer? Ahhh! What are you..."

The Tarnished hoisted Irina onto his shoulder.

Melina: *[...]*

"If your father is truly as devoted to his duties as you say, he won't leave even if I deliver that letter."

Embarrassed by the close contact with a man, Irina forgot her shyness at his words and asked in confusion, "Why?"

"Because men are fools like that. They stubbornly follow their ideals and responsibilities, even at the cost of losing the people they love. It's certainly admirable, heroic behavior, but for the people involved, it's far too painful."

Blind since childhood, Irina had a more sensitive heart than most. She sensed the unusual emotion in his words and cautiously asked, "You've experienced something like that too, haven't you?"

The Tarnished didn't answer. "So delivering a letter isn't enough. If you want to save your father, convince him yourself. Miss Irina, I'll take you to Castle Morne, into that battlefield. Are you afraid?"

Though her body was trembling, Irina bravely answered, "No!"

The Tarnished laughed. "Good girl."

"But won't a burden like me interfere with your fighting?"

The Tarnished shifted Irina from his shoulder onto his back. After testing the weight, he answered honestly, "It certainly is inconvenient. I'm much less agile."

Deeply ashamed, Irina said, "I'm sorry. It's because I'm too heavy. Why don't you put me down? I can walk myself."

"Blades don't discriminate. I'm taking you to see your father, not to your death."

"But..."

"No buts. I'm just a little overloaded. And since I'm overloaded anyway, I might as well go all the way."

As he spoke, the Tarnished set Irina down and donned the [Godrick Knight] set.

With that equipment on, the Tarnished's load immediately exceeded 100%, putting him in the "overloaded" state. He could no longer roll, jump, or run, and could only walk slowly.

The Tarnished lifted Irina onto his back again. "Sorry, the armor might be a little hard. Please bear with it."

"It's all right. You're willing to help a complete stranger like me. I couldn't be more grateful. A little discomfort really is nothing." Irina shook her head repeatedly, then asked, "But with your movement so restricted, how will we reach Castle Morne?"

"That's easy."

The Tarnished blew the spectral steed whistle, and the ultimate beast of burden made a dazzling entrance.

He swung into the saddle and told Irina, "Radish loves carrying heavy loads. The heavier, the better."

Torrent, under immense pressure: ???

But a spectral steed was a spectral steed. Even burdened with a thousand pounds, Torrent could still race along.

Torrent carried the Tarnished and Irina south, over a hill and onto a plain. At its far end, Castle Morne towered beside the sea.

Boom!

An enormous arrow struck the ground not far ahead. The Tarnished hurriedly pulled the reins to change direction, taking cover behind a rock just in time to dodge the second arrow.

"Another ballista?"

"No, it's the Castle Golem."

As Irina gave the correct answer, Torrent ran beyond the rock's cover.

The Tarnished looked toward Castle Morne and saw a metal construct with brass supports and runes inscribed all over its body, slowly nocking an arrow. Its enormous frame was considerably taller even than the Stonedigger Troll.

"How did the rebels take Castle Morne with something like that guarding it?" the Tarnished couldn't help complaining.

"That golem is a remnant of the Shattering," Irina explained. "It's badly damaged, with less than a tenth of its functions remaining. It can only shoot in a fixed direction. Its main purpose is to repel outside enemies, but the servants' rebellion began inside the castle."

"It can only shoot in one direction? Got it. So we'll be fine as long as we get past it!" The Tarnished squeezed the steed's flanks. "Run, Radish!"

Neigh!

Torrent gave a long whinny, sensing its master's intent.

As the Castle Golem loosed another arrow, Torrent leaped high, using the gust from the enormous arrow striking the ground to turn nimbly in midair. With quick, graceful movements, Torrent broke through the barrage and charged safely through Castle Morne's gates.

The Tarnished immediately dismounted with Irina on his back and hid in a small room on the left side of the gate passage. Torrent vanished into starlight at once, leaving no trace.

The room had once served as the guards' rest area, but since the rebellion began, it had been deserted and covered in blood.

The Tarnished poked half his head out to look. Sure enough, the Castle Golem hadn't turned around. It simply stood with its bow drawn, silently aiming at the plain outside.

"We're safe. Looks like that thing really can't turn around."

"There's a Grand Lift at the end of the passage," Irina said. "It will take us into the castle."

Following her directions, the Tarnished entered the Grand Lift and stepped on the central plate. The lift began rising slowly.

During the ascent, the Tarnished couldn't resist asking a question that had puzzled him for years. "What actually powers this thing?"

"I'm sorry," Irina said bashfully. "I don't know anything about engineering."

"Ah, don't worry. I was just asking."

As they spoke, the two arrived inside the castle.

Irina couldn't help frowning. "What a terrible smell. Has something rotted?"

"Yeah, just some spoiled food. Everyone fled, after all."

The Tarnished's answer was so calm that Irina accepted it.

But while the blind girl couldn't see, the Tarnished saw everything clearly.

An enormous heap of corpses stood near the entrance, seven or eight meters high, like a small mountain. Men and women, young and old, soldiers and civilians lay piled together. Several Misbegotten stood atop it, lighting fires and performing gruesome prayers and rituals.

These Misbegotten were the servants Irina had mentioned.

The so-called Misbegotten were humans who had unexpectedly acquired an aspect of the Crucible through atavism.

In ancient times, humans with an aspect of the Crucible had been considered sacred symbols, representing their close connection to the Crucible. But in the age of the Erdtree, these aspects were regarded as lowly deviations from order, and the Golden Order decreed that their bearers were slaves.

The Misbegotten were ugly, resembling beasts more than humans. Over their long years of slavery, they had gradually become less valued than farming tools, casually bullied, beaten, and killed. Their suffering was beyond words.

Rebelling to survive was understandable, and taking up arms to defend their rights could even be called courageous. But the scenes before him proved that Castle Morne's Misbegotten were no longer fighting for survival. They had become bastards who slaughtered a whole castle for pleasure merely to vent their rage!

The Tarnished couldn't untangle the rights and wrongs of it all. He only knew that the Misbegotten were behaving no differently from beasts. And beasts should be dealt with as beasts. Animals that harmed people couldn't be allowed to live. It was that simple.

"Miss Irina, hold on tight."

"Ah, yes!"

The Tarnished advanced slowly, walking alone toward the Corpse Mountain and sea of blood.

A Misbegotten spotted him and raised its cleaver, letting out a bestial howl to alert its companions. All the Misbegotten turned to look.

Another human! Kill him! Tear him apart! Eat him!

The Misbegotten bared their teeth, their blood-red eyes filled with ferocity.

But the Tarnished remained composed. His slow, steady steps exerted an invisible pressure. Why would he be so unhurried unless victory was assured?

The Misbegotten prowled hesitantly, afraid to approach. Only when their leader, the Scaly Misbegotten, roared were the lesser Winged Misbegotten forced forward.

Beasts had no tactics. They only knew how to swing their blades wildly.

One Winged Misbegotten charged fastest, swinging a large cleaver at the Tarnished. But the Tarnished quickly raised his shield. The cleaver struck the brass and bounced away with a clang. Before the Winged Misbegotten could recover, the Great Epee in the Tarnished's right hand thrust forward, piercing its throat with deadly precision.

Their companion's death shocked the other Misbegotten and stoked their savagery. More charged with cleavers swinging, but Tarny remained unshaken, doing nothing but raising his shield and thrusting.

The shield protected him, while the Estoc reaped lives. Offense and defense united—this was the godly Shield Poking technique, brimming with finesse and skill!

The Tarnished drove his sword through the last Winged Misbegotten's heart. Just as he flung the corpse aside, the Scaly Misbegotten, which had been watching for some time, swung its great axe at him.

Scaly Misbegotten were a higher form of Misbegotten, named for their dragonlike scales. Compared with Winged Misbegotten, which incorporated avian traits, Scaly Misbegotten possessed draconic traits that gave them far greater strength and defense.

The Scaly Misbegotten attacked suddenly. Though the Tarnished raised his shield, he was forced half a step backward. Relentlessly pressing its advantage, the Scaly Misbegotten spun like a top with its great axe, battering the Tarnished's shield aside with continuous attacks. With a loud clang, the axe struck his chest, sending him sliding backward with such force that his metal greaves gouged two deep tracks in the ground.

"Roar!"

The Scaly Misbegotten bellowed in excitement.

But the Tarnished drank a flask of Crimson Tears and raised his shield again as though nothing had happened.

"That one's on me. Come again!"

The Scaly Misbegotten's eyes widened, then it attacked in uncontrollable fury.

It recognized that bottle. It was a sacred flask blessed by the Erdtree.

Why could everyone receive the Erdtree's blessing except the Misbegotten? Had they done something wrong? No, they weren't wrong. This world was!

Everyone blessed by the Erdtree must die! Everyone who received its favor must die! Everyone who isn't Misbegotten must die!

Only then could they repay the abuse we suffered! Only then could they make up for our pain!

"Misbegotten won't be slaves! Misbegotten will be people too!"

The Scaly Misbegotten shouted in garbled speech and brought its great axe down hard.

Clang!

The Brass Shield blocked the attack, and the Great Epee darted out like a venomous snake.

The Tarnished said nothing. He simply kept Shield Poking.

Soon, more than a dozen holes had been pierced clean through the Scaly Misbegotten's body. Blood the same color as a human's gushed from them.

The Misbegotten were pitiful people too. But once they raised their butcher's blades against ordinary people indiscriminately, they ceased to deserve pity.

The Tarnished didn't understand lofty principles. He only knew that anyone who killed should be prepared to be killed.

"I-is it over?"

Only when the sounds of battle ceased did Irina, clinging tightly to the Tarnished's neck, dare to speak.

"Yeah." The Tarnished glanced at the dead Scaly Misbegotten. "It's over."

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"Just a little scratch. Nothing serious." The Tarnished flicked the blood off the Great Epee. "I can hear fighting up ahead. Come on, let's keep going. You can guide me."

"Yes! Turn right up ahead to enter the armory. There's a ladder there that leads to the ramparts."

"Got it."

The Tarnished set off, advancing at a turtle's pace.

Irina: "..."