Remembrance · An Unworthy Heir Burdened by Ancestral Glory-1

Nothing in the world had ever remained unchanged. The glory of old would ultimately meet its end, and even the most illustrious bloodline would decline. Yet perhaps the weakening of old blood heralded the birth of new blood. Sadly, such a feat was harder than reaching the heavens... Blind faith would ultimately destroy new possibilities.

The greatest distance in the world... was admiration...

The golden age kept no count of years.

Today was a special day for the entire Golden Lineage. A new child carrying the direct bloodline of Godwyn the Golden, the most perfect Demigod, would be born. Nobles valued blood above all else, and although Godwyn cared little for such things, he was still delighted that this child would come into the world.

The child was born amid everyone's great expectations. Yet the moment news of his birth reached them, a shadow fell over the gathering. This child was nothing like the nobles of Leyndell had imagined. He possessed none of Godwyn's radiance, and his body was terribly frail. Even his weight and build fell short of those of ordinary infants.

All they could see in this child was weakness. The nobles could barely conceal their disappointment.

"How could this be? Why is Lord Godwyn's descendant so frail..." one old man muttered shakily, stealing occasional glances at Godwyn beside him. Godwyn's expression remained still as water, as calm and refined as ever.

How could a newborn have ever witnessed such a noisy gathering? Surrounded by a dense crowd of adults, the tiny infant promptly began to cry. Godwyn motioned for a servant to bring him the child. The moment he took the baby into his arms, the crying miraculously stopped.

"From this day forward, my child... your name is Godrick." Godwyn's smile was exceedingly gentle, without a trace of a ruler's arrogance. Looking at the child in his arms, frailer than an ordinary infant, he could not help feeling a pang of tenderness. At the same time, an unwelcome thought arose in his perceptive mind. Perhaps he would be the last glory of the golden bloodline...

Sure enough, the birth of Godwyn's other child, Godfroy, soon confirmed his suspicions. This child was even frailer than Godrick. He could not even be called a Demigod; his bloodline was so diluted that it was almost negligible.

Even after learning this, Godwyn treated neither child differently. Their childhood was relatively peaceful. Godrick and Godfrey, brothers born of different mothers, got along particularly well, perhaps because both were equally frail.

While still young, the two had seen a portrait depicting Godfrey's imposing figure. From that moment on, Godrick and Godfroy developed a profound reverence for their ancestor. Like the other members of the Golden Lineage, they greatly admired Godfrey's valor and might in battle.

Godfroy, in particular, came to understand the meaning of his name. Godwyn had once told them that even with diluted blood, they would each have a path of their own. He hoped neither would let his thin bloodline become a prison. But... things seldom went as hoped.

As Godrick and Godfroy grew older, they came to understand their weakness more deeply. Their father's past teachings could no longer sustain their somewhat insecure hearts. Deep within them, they still harbored a longing and admiration for Godfrey's overwhelming strength.

The brothers began pursuing power. More tragically still, they could not even lift the weapon their idol had wielded. Even the crudest battle axe took tremendous effort for them to swing.

Seeing his two children lost and confused, Godwyn tried to guide them.

"Godfroy... do you know of a fortress to the south called Stormveil Castle? It is a legacy of the First Elden Lord's final campaigns. I now entrust that city to your care. Much of the history left by your ancestor Godfrey remains there... Go and discover what made him strong. Go and shine, with a golden radiance that belongs to you alone."

"And Godrick, Leyndell needs your governance. You need not lose heart because you lack great strength. You can try your hand at ruling a realm."

Godrick and Godfroy were delighted. Their father giving them duties meant he had high hopes for them. Though the two children had inherited little of his blood, their pride in belonging to the Golden Lineage was no less than anyone else's. Indeed, precisely because their blood was so diluted, they yearned all the more to make something of themselves and bring new glory to their family.

Watching his two children, Godwyn smiled with a father's affection. In his eyes, they might lack strength, but their intelligence was no less than anyone else's... Perhaps combat did not suit them, but he believed that wherever they went, whatever they put that intelligence toward, they would never disgrace the golden name.

"Godwyn..." As the two children left, a cold, commanding woman's voice sounded behind him.

Godrick and Godfroy now each had duties of their own. Although they seldom saw Godwyn afterward, both brothers kept his teachings firmly in their hearts. After taking over Stormveil, Godfroy managed it quite capably, while Godrick handled certain internal affairs in Leyndell with considerable tact.

But the good times did not last. Certain flaws in the brothers' personalities gradually began to show. Perhaps eager to prove themselves, they became somewhat extreme in their methods. Yet everyone was mindful that they were Godwyn's children, with an unassailable status. However diluted their blood might be, no one else had the right to overstep. They could only let the two act as they pleased.

That indulgence became the turning point. With Godwyn also absent for so long, Godfroy undertook a certain experiment...

"Hehehe... I see... I see, so my blood has a use like this! Brother... perhaps our bloodline has not abandoned us!" Godfroy stared at a wound he had accidentally cut into himself one day. At first, it had hurt, but then something strange happened. The open wound actually resonated faintly with other limbs.

At first, it was the hides of certain animals. The body parts that resonated with his wound actually fused perfectly with Godfroy's body. And so, a deranged idea began spreading through his mind...

When insecurity was met with adulation, a strange phenomenon could arise. Godrick, with his exalted status, received lavish praise from a group of useless nobles in the city. Over time, his mindset also began to change. He grew somewhat arrogant... and an even more absurd idea was born in his heart.

I am the son of Godwyn the Golden, a member of the noble Golden Lineage. How could my blood be so diluted? I must possess some hidden power! After that, he neglected his official duties and returned to the martial path that had never suited him. He refused to believe he was truly weak. Perhaps his former weakness had merely been a matter of mindset. He believed that as long as he did not give up, he would surely restore the glory of gold.

And so Godrick took a simple battle axe and issued repeated challenges within the city.

It had to be said that Godrick had been born into a peaceful age. Through the valiant campaigns of Godfrey, the First Elden Lord, and Radagon, the second Elden Lord, most powers had submitted to the forces of gold. The nobles within Leyndell had entered what they considered their golden age.

Yet excessive stability bred indolence and stupidity, and these nobles were no exception. They treated Godrick's challenges as a game meant to entertain him. As long as they lost to him in combat, he would lavish generous rewards on them in his delight. Why would they refuse?

They never considered the consequences of such behavior. And although Godrick was no fool, their endless indulgence, flattery, and accommodation gradually caused him to lose himself.

"Hahaha, I knew I wasn't worthless!" Godrick raised his crude battle axe, his body drenched in sweat. Yet his expression was happy, delighted. His face, which looked somewhat older than others his age, wore a sleazy grin utterly at odds with his noble station.

Ah... so I really can do anything I set my mind to. I can govern a realm and wage war! The Golden Lineage will surely be led by me in the future. Father, did you see? I haven't disgraced you!

But in a corner beyond his notice, a group of resting soldiers whispered among themselves.

"Hey, do you think Lord Godrick is really weak, or is he pretending just to toy with us?" one soldier could not help asking as he watched Godrick throw back his head and laugh in the arena.

"How should I know? Just keep him happy... Who cares whether his weakness is real or fake? Once Lord Godrick becomes the next heir, we might even benefit. Besides, with the Elden Ring protecting us, we're sure to grow even more prosperous."

"..."

"Don't you agree, Kristoff?" one soldier asked a man with stern features and an exceptionally valiant bearing. He was an apprentice Ancient Dragon Knight. Though still an apprentice, his extraordinary talent had already made him a rising star among the Ancient Dragon Knights.

"Say something." The soldier kept calling to Kristoff, but Kristoff walked into the arena without a word.

"Hey, where are you going? Want to lose your head? Lord Godrick hasn't called anyone up yet!" The shouts behind him were loud and confused. Kristoff ignored them and took his place in the arena.

"Oh... has another man come to challenge me, Godrick? Very well! Whoever you are, I accept!" Laughing, Godrick dragged his battle axe forward to face Kristoff. His heart brimmed with confidence. After this match, he would have twenty consecutive victories today. Another record was about to fall.

But...

In a flash, a spear wreathed in crimson red lightning shot toward Godrick's throat.

"My apologies, Lord Godrick." Kristoff sighed softly, withdrew his spear, and gave a knight's salute before silently stepping down. The spectators were stunned. Godrick was even more dumbfounded. He collapsed onto the ground and sat there for a long time, unable to recover.

When he finally came to his senses, he grew furious. He was not angry at his weakness or his defeat. Instead, he began hurling abuse at Kristoff.

"Insolent wretch! You sought to murder a member of the royal family?! Who gave you the nerve?"

"My lord, this was combat. This was a challenge you personally accepted. Please do not make things difficult for me." Kristoff's tone was neither servile nor overbearing, but he never turned around.

"Insolence! You dared strike to kill in a sparring match?! I nearly died beneath your Dragon Spear!" Godrick continued raging.

"My lord... I never used my full strength... That was merely the most basic exchange of blows. In combat... one ought to take one's opponent seriously." Kristoff's tone remained even, but every word made clear how weak Godrick was, and how the others had merely been putting on an act for him.

Kristoff's words instantly left everyone below drenched in cold sweat. Yet Godrick seemed not to understand their meaning. Still seething, he pointed at Kristoff's back and shouted, "Stop making excuses! Guards, seize this wretch at once! Subject him to harsh torture!"

"My lord, I hope you will not let outward things deceive you. Look into your heart and recognize your true self."

Kristoff had originally been a poor villager. Blessed with a natural talent for martial arts and filled with reverence for the Golden Dynasty, he had chosen to join the army. After he spent a long time training among the troops, his commanding officer was astonished by his talent and promoted him to apprentice knight as an exception. Kristoff himself also had a great interest in the Dragon Communion that Godwyn advocated, and before long, he became an apprentice Ancient Dragon Knight.

In the army, he happened to hear news of Godrick, the child of Godwyn the Golden. Rumor said Godrick was unskilled in martial arts and physically frail. At first, Kristoff thought little of it. After all, not everyone was suited to combat. Perhaps Godrick had other talents.

But when he heard that Godrick was fighting arena matches in the city, he grew puzzled. Hadn't they said Godrick was poor at fighting? How was he defeating Leyndell's soldiers one after another? He did not recall the soldiers being so weak. Intrigued, he went to watch Godrick fight in person.

It could not be called combat at all. It was a desecration of combat. Godrick merely raised his exceedingly crude battle axe and swung it at a soldier, who then pretended to struggle before falling to the ground and conceding.

How could Kristoff fail to understand after seeing that? Godrick's winning streak was nothing more than a farce his subjects staged to amuse their ruler. Kristoff burned with anger. The wars had not yet ended, yet these nobles and soldiers in the city had already begun arranging such meaningless spectacles. They were simply disgracing the dynasty.

He could not bear to watch the dynasty decline, nor could he bear to see someone who ought to be a leader sink into corruption amid false praise and indulgence. That was why he had entered the arena to challenge Godrick. He did not fear death. He only hoped that his actions might bring forth a new ruler capable of carrying this age forward...

At Godrick's command, the surrounding soldiers swarmed forward and seized Kristoff. "Godrick! Do not persist in your delusion! Otherwise, all that awaits you is a pitiful, hollow end!" Kristoff offered little physical resistance, but still tried to awaken Godrick with his words.

"Take him away! A mere wretch dares address me with such arrogance!" Sadly, Godrick had not listened. By then, the "strength" built upon layers of falsehood had already gone to his head...