After settling Morgott and Mohg in, Horace returned to his study.
He closed the door, walked to the center of the room, and silently contacted the Formless Mother.
A few breaths later, a thin veil of blood mist appeared in the air.
"My boy, did you miss Mother?"
Horace ignored that form of address and cut straight to the point:
"The Bloodflame aura on Mohg-was that your doing?"
"Oh dear, you caught me~"
"Explain."
A soft laugh came through the Formless Mother's thoughts:
"You were the child Mother originally chose. So bold, daring to draw my blood at our very first audience, and even asking about the 'pain of losing your virginity'... What an interesting child."
The blood mist drifted in front of Horace, almost touching his face:
"But then you got your own Law, didn't you? 'Restraint,' a 'thousand-year cycle,' all those elaborate things. Mother doesn't really understand, but it sounds very impressive."
Horace stared expressionlessly at the cloud of blood mist.
The Formless Mother continued:
"My own boy has made something of himself and is going to become a god. What can Mother do? Be accepting, of course. Mother looked at that Law of yours-though I couldn't understand it, it seemed very fair. A change every thousand years, anyone can compete. Very nice."
The blood mist drifted a little farther away, a hint of grievance entering her voice:
"But, my boy, now that you have your own path, you don't need to be Mother's representative anymore. Yet Mother also needs someone to represent me in that 'thousand-year competition.' Otherwise, when the Elden Ring changes hands, how embarrassing would it be if I had no one in the running?"
Horace finally spoke, his voice calm:
"So you chose Mohg."
"That's right!" The Formless Mother's voice grew cheerful again.
"That