Clearing the Coastal Cave hadn't even registered as an interlude. It was merely a small dungeon Frieren stumbled upon while wandering, went inside, fought a bit, got the Sewing Needle drop, and that was that.
If the seamster Boc hadn't reminded her, she probably would have forgotten the dungeon boss was a Demi-Human Chief. It was an utterly forgettable battle; they were too weak, it ended too quickly. Exploring the cave felt more like completing a checklist.
Unexpectedly, the drop proved useful today.
"Returned to its rightful owner."
Boc paused as he took the sewing kit, stroking it carefully, speechless for a long moment. The item he treasured so much, the one he intended to risk his life to retrieve, was finally back.
Overwhelming joy washed over him, especially since it was personally given to him by the Shardbearer he admired most.
"Does this hold some special meaning?"
Wiping the corner of his eye, the seamster said, "Yes. It belonged to my mother. She was a seamster too. I want to become like her, so I can't die easily... I will hone my skills until I can be of service to you."
"Excellent. As it happens, I have quite a few outfits that need alterations. I'll be relying on you in the future."
Frieren had accumulated countless garments from the Dark Souls world, including even attire belonging to Lords of Cinder, but unfortunately, none fit properly. Even her most frequently used Dancer's Armor wasn't necessarily a perfect fit, just roughly conforming to her shape. If it could be altered, that would be ideal. Perhaps she could also prepare outfits for Millialdelle and Flamme.
"Thank you!" Boc bowed deeply, tears giving way to a smile. Having always been bullied for his small stature, he was very perceptive and skilled at reading people; he could tell Frieren genuinely intended to entrust him with tasks.
Compared to the appreciation of a monarch, what did past scorn matter? Those bullies were leagues beneath her, lacking even a shred of human kindness.
"Your Majesty, may I ask presumptuously: have you ever faced doubt because of your... non-human features?"
"Of course. I killed them all. No one mentioned it afterwards." The silver-haired girl chuckled, then changed the subject.
"The suitable method for you is to ignore them. You know how to sew, don't you? Those who have found their path don't easily lose their way."
"My mother said something similar."
"You told me your sewing skills need time; you must also give me time."
"Much of the exclusion, hostility, conflict, and hatred in the Lands Between today stems from the hardships tormenting everyone. Boc, you are free to blame this world. And I will restore Grace to the land, in the not-too-distant future."
Hearing this, the little seamster stared blankly, then murmured, "Am I truly worthy of hearing Your Majesty's ambition?"
"It's not just my ambition; it's yours too, and everyone's. Otherwise, how could I rule Stormveil Castle? Working together, people like us can change the Lands Between."
"Yes!" Boc nodded enthusiastically, more excited than he had ever been. Not only did he have someone to confide in, but he had also received recognition from the person he respected most.
He had to take action! He should leave Limgrave and travel further to refine his skills, to be worthy of the King. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I must take my leave now, but we will surely meet again in the future. At that time, I shall offer you all my skills."
"Then be careful not to fall into any traps easily."
"You too, Your Majesty."
Frieren waved goodbye, watching the little seamster depart. In truth, Boc's abilities weren't particularly useful to her, but his tenacious spirit deserved acknowledgment.
He represented the ordinary folk of the Lands Between, one member of the teeming masses. More than anyone, they suffered from the Elden Ring's shattering, hoping for a return to prosperity. Their encouragement made the journey under the Erdtree feel epic.
She wasn't awed by the grandeur of the Royal Capital or the vastness of the land; she'd seen plenty. It was these small details, the faces of the common people, that gave her a sense of reality.
Simultaneously immersed yet doubting its authenticity, the people and events experienced in these Lands Between felt more vibrant than in other worlds. Had she changed, or was the world changing?
Besides that, Frieren helped Boc partly due to the overwhelmingly positive player messages about him:
[Killed him by accident T_T]
[Be careful, don't just attack everything on sight! The seamster alters clothes for free! Gonna boot up Elden Ring Fashion Souls now and try every alteration for every outfit.]
[My cyber wardrobe is always expanding!]
[Boc is one of my favorite NPCs. Every NG+ I rush over to trigger his questline early.]
[In my heart, there's a list of 'People Who Must Know After I Become Elden Lord': Chief Seamster Boc, Teacher Sellen, Wolf-Brother Blaidd, and Finger Maiden Melina...]
[Sounds like a memorial service list lol]
[Was feeling touched, then just burst out laughing. Dark, but yeah, that's pretty much a death list. None of them have happy endings.]
[Lost my loves, gaze upon ruin, the throne is so lonely without you...]
[This kind of ending, sitting on the throne alone, isn't what I wanted. Maybe the theme of the Lands Between is that every great deed must be tinged with tragedy, even making you ultimately doubt if everything achieved was part of some conspiracy, wondering if instability remains.]
[...]
[True, I like to believe the Land of Shadow plot happens after the Tarnished becomes Lord, following intel received, especially since several shady characters are hiding there.]
[Not necessarily. The timeline might not be post-Elden Lord; maybe having two Great Runes already counts as quasi-Lord level.]
[Anyway, I prefer to think of it as a post-Lord story.]
[Everyone has their own interpretation, I guess. Reading it that way is certainly more romanticized.]
[The Golden Order, the Age of Plenty... all too vague. Only little guys like Boc make me feel like mending the Ring is meaningful, even after paying such a heavy price...]
The more Frieren read, the more uneasy she felt. Unfortunately, the subsequent messages lacked substance, offering no detailed background.
Could it be true? She could temporarily ignore other tragedies, confident she was already changing things—besides, she had achieved similar 'everyone lives' scenarios in other worlds. But priorities mattered; some people couldn't afford delays.
The problem was, if something happened to Melina, her constant companion, she absolutely couldn't stand idly by!
Frieren had long suspected a tragic fate for the Finger Maiden. Having seen enough worlds with this kind of decaying aesthetic, she guessed the later stages wouldn't be pleasant.
But for Melina not to witness her coronation? That was too cruel. Cruel to the would-be Elden Lord.
She empathized with the messages. Indeed, the praise of outsiders meant nothing. Only showing her accomplishments to familiar faces, lending them aid—that's what made becoming Lord meaningful.
If the price was predestined sacrifice, then screw mending the damned Elden Ring. The cost. Moreover, according to some players, becoming Lord wasn't necessarily the end; hidden conspiracies remained unresolved...
Frieren stood rooted, deep in thought, her plans flashing through her mind. Perhaps she needed to reconsider everything?
Beside her, Melina looked puzzled, unaware the Tarnished was pondering her own mission. "Is something wrong?"
Witnessing the silver-haired girl lost in prolonged thought, Melina couldn't help asking. It was rare to see her partner look so serious.
Frieren frowned, figuring sharing the truth with the acting Finger Maiden bound by her purpose wouldn't work. Setting aside how she could possibly know, should she just predict Melina's death?
Death wouldn't scare her; she was likely already prepared. The tragedy mentioned by the players surely wasn't some random strong enemy suddenly appearing and killing Melina. It had to be a more unavoidable, crucial step; otherwise, it wouldn't qualify as a huge cost on the path to becoming Lord.
"It's nothing." Ultimately, Frieren decided to hide it from Melina; after all, she didn't know the full story yet.
Even if Melina were to do something foolish, Frieren could stop her immediately, even if it was supposedly an indispensable step. Was it important? What was truly indispensable were her friends, including the Finger Maiden. Otherwise, being Elden Lord was meaningless.
She changed the subject: "I was just thinking that people like Boc represent the unyielding side of the Lands Between's inhabitants. They're still stubbornly alive."
"Indeed. He seems to hold you in high regard, Frieren."
"Even if the Elden Ring is mended, it won't necessarily make everyone better immediately. That depends on the specific Order, right?"
"Correct. You could even choose an Order that allows fate to flow freely, returning freedom to everyone. That might not be so bad, actually. After all, the Lands Between have always been full of creatures from beyond the stars, like the Onyx and Alabaster Lords."
"Wouldn't there be threats from Outer Gods?"
"Are there few hidden conspiracies now? True gods don't constantly watch the Lands Between. Those gazes with ill intent are more like trials... Of course, I'm just mentioning one possibility. As long as you don't choose an Order that destroys the world, I will support you."
"But compared to those grand matters, having you, Boc, and Teacher Sellen witness my coronation is what's truly important. Otherwise, what meaning does this world hold for me?" The silver-haired girl looked meaningfully into the Finger Maiden's eyes, then smiled nonchalantly.
This is difficult. Melina didn't think her mission as the Kindling Maiden was exposed, but those seemingly casual words felt almost like a threat.
Without her watching, how would this King reshape the world? She doubted that Marika or another god in the future could constrain a King like Frieren the way they controlled Godfrey or Radagon previously. Frieren was a partner and comrade-in-arms from the beginning, and Radagon's situation was unique...
Besides, in the eyes of the world, both previous Lords ended poorly—one exiled, one vanished.
Therefore, the third Elden Lord would surely harbor deep mistrust, even hostility, towards the gods. Frieren lacked any bond with the gods and, like a warrior king, had risen from obscurity, carving out her domain through battle. Would she tolerate some mere vessel of Order dictating terms to her?
Co-rule between god and king—if either side became too dominant, it wasn't a good thing. Frieren wasn't empowered by Grace; her entire power system had little connection to the Erdtree. If faced with exile, she likely wouldn't mind embarking on a path of conquest again.
She would become a willful King, precisely because the friends for whom she wanted to be an ideal ruler were gone.
"We will be with you." At this point, Melina could only offer stabilizing words, though perhaps she would have to break her promise later.
"Of course. I'll take that as a promise." Frieren nonchalantly summoned Torrent and mounted, as if the slightly heavy atmosphere from moments ago never existed—a confidence born of strength.
Unbeknownst to Frieren, Melina, sitting behind her, began seriously pondering: which Empyrean could definitively establish a bond with the Tarnished starting from scratch? There were only three options in total. Truly perplexing.
Torrent galloped onward, reaching the front of a new checkpoint guarding a bridge. Compared to before, it was further from the Stormgate, its extended reach signifying strengthened military power. From afar, she saw a troop of soldiers lined up neatly, preparing to depart.
"Whoa!" Hearing the spectral steed halt, the soldiers immediately stood ramrod straight and saluted. The King of Limgrave had returned.
"Has something happened?"
"Reporting, Your Majesty! Traces of bandit activity have been found around Murkwater Cave. They've robbed some passing merchants. We intend to cordon off the perimeter," the officer replied, quickly adding an explanation, "We won't touch the main cave itself; we're waiting for your return."
It was common knowledge that the Ashen Lord enjoyed exploring all sorts of underground labyrinths. If she were disturbed prematurely, she would likely be displeased. They didn't dare risk Frieren showing disappointment. Everyone could see that, at heart, she was still a Tarnished wanderer, uninterested in ruling. If she found an excuse to abandon her duties, it would be disastrous. They had to maintain the current situation as much as possible.
"Perfect timing. I was saving the caves near Stormveil Castle for last anyway. No time like the present. You guard the outside; I'm going in." With that, the silver-haired girl immediately changed direction and leaped down towards the lower ground.
The soldiers left behind looked at each other, bewildered. They were actually supposed to enter and surround the riverbanks. "Set up camp."
With Her Majesty taking action, success was practically guaranteed. Seeing her eagerness, it was as if she were rushing off to meet an old friend. As for them, they first dispatched carrier pigeons with the news: Frieren, who had been traveling the south since her coronation, was about to return to the city.
A small stream trickled underfoot, flowing from Lake Agheel, carving a ravine that stretched into the distance. The map showed Murkwater Cave was quite hidden, hard for ordinary people to find, which was why it became a bandit haunt. No monsters respawned, but the bandits' constant harassment needed to be stopped.
She glanced at the map once, then put it away. The true measure of the land should be one's own steps; records weren't always reliable. Best to stay alert—besides, Frieren already sensed something wasn't quite right.
"It's too quiet. Apart from the water, there's no other noise."
"Could it be because of the dragon from Lake Agheel? After all, the river flows from there," Melina murmured.
"No, I already killed Agheel. The other dragons aren't imposing enough to deter everything around here." Previously, that large dragon had dared to block the combined southern army during their march. Frieren had killed it casually before subjugating the other dragons. During peacetime, they rested by Lake Agheel and generally didn't harm people, though one couldn't expect them to actively maintain order either...
Hum!
Suddenly, a bizarre magical energy flared up. From the player's perspective, the words [Invaded by Bloody Finger Nerijus] appeared.
Indeed, a Red Phantom clad in robes and wielding daggers materialized out of thin air. The moment he appeared, he locked onto Frieren and let out a roar, devoid of any rational reaction, as if driven by some deep-seated hatred, purely intending to fight until one of them was utterly destroyed.
Melina warned, "Be careful. This is a group of fanatics who hunt Tarnished. There's also sinister Outer God power behind them."
"Understood." As a discerning mage, Frieren immediately noticed the gaze of a mysterious entity residing within the enemy.
Could a single Bloody Finger invader be this strong? Mana signatures didn't lie. Nerijus's aura put even Frieren on guard, as his power rapidly escalated from the moment he appeared.
The dagger-wielding man gave a sinister chuckle and gestured provocatively. However, the silver-haired girl instead raised her Brass Shield and began maneuvering, showing no intention of attacking first. She deliberately increased the distance, drawing him towards the more open area of Lake Agheel, clearly avoiding a direct confrontation.
"Mongrel!" Far away in the Mohgwyn Dynasty, Mohg cursed. Currently blessing his subordinate with blood magic, he had to contend with energy decay; the output efficiency wasn't high, and the duration was limited. He had expected a direct provocation to elicit an immediate response from a monarch, but his opponent remained unhurried.
"Since when does a demi-human mongrel Tarnished deserve to possess a shard of the Elden Ring? It's an insult to the rightful Lords!"
"I heard you defeated Margit. That foolish projection of my brother is always holding back. Since he couldn't properly test you, let the Mohgwyn Dynasty take a look!"
At this moment, the demigod focused, channeling magic into his subordinate. The Blessing of Blood. Besides that, there was also a touch of the Formless Mother's power—the gaze of an Outer God.
Like the recently arrived so-called 'Ashen Lord,' these external entities brought contamination and new powers, such as Blood Incantations. Some tainted sorcerers, hunted by Bloody Fingers and offered to Mohg, had allowed him access to curse-like powers. Interesting. He'd test them all today.
He had long despised the ostentatious King of Limgrave. First occupied by the weak Godrick, now ruled by a mongrel—unacceptable!
Whether out of pride or for reconnaissance, he had to clash with Frieren. Despite his contempt, Mohg still recognized her as a strong competitor on the path to the throne; gathering intelligence was essential.
The magic of a top-tier demigod converged on the distant, blessed Bloody Finger, whose aura surged immensely. The soldiers stationed at the far end of the bridge clearly saw a Red Phantom emerge and actively pursue the silver-haired girl. The two fought while retreating towards Lake Agheel.
Clang!
Nerijus swung his dagger through the air, unleashing an arc of bloodflame magic spanning over fifty meters. Frieren deftly ducked under it, her next step splashing into the water. She had arrived. Open areas offered more room to maneuver against assassins.
Conversely, her own magic was also suited for large-scale combat, yet she still didn't initiate an attack. The enemy's aura was still changing.
"Be careful, Frieren. It's said the Bloody Fingers engage in Outer God worship and receive blessings from evil powers. They hide deep, and intelligence is scarce. Use your preferred cautious tactics; don't fall into any traps easily," Melina reminded her. She wished she could help, as the opponent was indeed bizarre, but could only watch as the silver-haired girl faced danger.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of the one pulling the strings behind him too."
"Impudent mongrel! You think you're worthy?" Before the words faded, Nerijus dashed forward, his sharp dagger extending with a cursed edge. Frieren precisely blocked with her Brass Shield.
Simultaneously, her staff unleashed a Magic Sword, accurately sweeping towards the enemy's legs to impair mobility. However, Nerijus managed to negate the attack purely with powerful magic. A considerably high-level blessing, factoring in resistance as well. Unexpectedly high defense, likely specialized against mage opponents. Definitely targeting me.
Crack!
The curse on the dagger touched her but was deflected off course; her constantly active Twisted Wall of Light took effect. Ordinary magic couldn't hope to harm her physical body either.
The ultra-fast exchange in the first round made both sides look increasingly grave. Strange, this guy's resistances are stacked really high. One targeted the mage's weakness, the other compensated for that weakness—a direct confrontation of countermeasures.
"Aren't you supposed to be strong? Didn't you defeat Margit? Why are you only showing this level of power?!"
"Unless the situation is urgent, I prefer a gradual escalation in battle."
"...So I'm not putting enough pressure on you, is that it?" Hearing this, the silver-haired girl nodded frankly, further infuriating Nerijus and the Mohg behind him. "You've angered me! You might become the first Shardbearer assassinated by ambush! Those soldiers will witness your death!"
No sooner were the words spoken than another series of invasion notifications appeared. A total of four more Bloody Fingers joined the battle. Although their strength was far less than the blessed one, they were troublesome enough.
"Outnumbered, am I? Well, that's the battlefield." Frieren didn't mind the high-pressure environment. Since it was a game with room for error, it was all the more reason to hone her skills. Little did she know, her calm demeanor was more infuriating than any taunt.
"Attack!"
All five Bloody Fingers formed up, pressing forward with an airtight offensive that was almost suffocating. Bloodflame engulfed Lake Agheel. The soldiers on the bridge could only retreat, lest even a wisp of its aura prove fatal.
Yet the silver-haired girl, bathed in the torrential assault, moved with leisurely steps, her footing steady, her shield blocking flawlessly, even managing counter-parries that repelled attackers. Simultaneously, her staff instantly released Glintstone Stars to harass the enemies, single-handedly holding against the onslaught. It was a masterclass in combat; being outnumbered hadn't affected her rhythm in the slightest.
Mohg, controlling remotely, had to admit Frieren's technique was reaching perfection. She seemed fond of parrying and used only the most basic magic. He had seen how other demigods displayed their power—all relied on innate strength combined with some formal training to reach their peak; they didn't show such fundamental skills.
In contrast, the Ashen Lord was the epitome of martial artistry. Without a powerful physique, special blessings, or bloodline enhancements, her technique alone was proving troublesome for the ambushing Bloody Fingers.
"Then increase the output—"
Winds churned above Lake Agheel, seeming to boil the water below. All five Bloody Fingers stood in a line, pointing in unison at Frieren alone, their magic surging stronger than before. She understood the controller behind them was finally willing to show more of his power. Let's clash, then. The wills of two demigods engaged across the distance, both coincidentally choosing their signature techniques.
Bloodflame sprayed across the sky, staining the clouds, seemingly intending to obscure the Erdtree's radiance here, filled with evil. A trace of an Outer God's power mixed within made it even more immense.
Frieren's power was equally formidable: extremely pure soul energy dissipated outwards, gathering into a torrent. More than one! Several runic arrays rose behind her—a multi-shot Soul Stream never before displayed in the Lands Between.
Only someone with an immensely powerful soul could handle consumption of this magnitude. This display alone shocked Melina, who almost thought Frieren was throwing her life away.
Then, the Bloodflame and the Soul Stream collided. Red and blue intertwined. Fire and tempest climbed together towards the heavens, detonating with a terrifying shockwave that blasted away tons of lake water! The colossal boom was enough to shake the distant Stormhill.
_____
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