Elden Ring : Godrick The Golden

7 extra chappies in P@treon. 

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New Image for Godrick The Golden.

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(HP: 300/300 → 208/300)

The dagger missed his skull by a hair's breadth, its trajectory disrupted by the sudden shockwave of lightning. Godrick grunted, feeling the sharp sting of the explosion against his own body as it blackened and charred. He hadn't expected it to be painless—no, pain was part of the thrill.

The assassin staggered out from behind the illusory wall, their black hood singed, and their dagger hand trembling. They were quick, quicker than anything he'd faced, but not quick enough to avoid his raw power.

She wore scale armour used by the Black Knife Assassins, forged to make no sound, paired with a black cloak, now singed and torn from the lightning. Two pale blue eyes stared at him through frayed fabric—dull and empty.

[Observe]

(Character Sheet

Black Knife Assasin Mirin

 Age: Three hundred and twenty-four years and two months

 HP: 114/230

 FP: 210

 Strength: 14

 Dexterity: 32

 Endurance: 12

 Vigor: 23

 Mind: 78

 Intelligence: 21

 Faith: 5

Skills:

[Night's Embrace (Passive) Level 9: The night moves like a whisper, unseen and unheard. Walk with the Night and become its silent echo, slipping through the world without a trace, as if the very air bends to you will]

[Beyond The Between (Passive): The Numen are the descendants of denizens from another world. They are long-lived but seldom born and as such possess unusual resistance to few forces in the Lands-Between. +15% Holy Resistance. +15% Fire Resistance]

[Dagger Mastery (Passive) Level 5: Adequately proficient in wielding daggers]

Sorceries:

[Middling Glintstone Sorcery Mastery Level 5

-Glintstone Pebble

-Great Glintstone Shard]

[Adequate Night Mastery Level 2: Denotes mastery over Night Sorcery, where sorcery thrives without Glintstone, as well as the speed of your calculation. To calculate is common, but to calculate in the dark, devoid of Glintstone is to embrace the Night's true essence. Spells under this branch:

-Unseen Form: One of the night sorceries of Sellia, Town of Sorcery. Makes the caster semi-invisible.

-Unseen Blade: Enchants armament held in right hand, making it completely invisible.

This sorcery can be cast while in motion. Used by Sellian assassins to present themselves as unarmed sorcerers])

"By the Gilded Erdtree's light, my Oath doth bind!" His voice boomed in the small room as two flashes of gold lit the darkness. The assassin got to her feet while Godrick healed to full, a film of gold covering his form.

This was going to be fun.

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The battle in the Gaol erupted in a flurry of motion as Earnan's troops lunged at the oversized crab. Weapons flashed, catching the dim light as steel and claws met with violent impact. The crab's chitinous shell cracked under the sheer number of attacks, but it fought back just as fiercely, its massive claws swinging with the force of a battering ram.

A soldier was crushed to a meat paste as a Demi-Human Chief was smashed into the metal bars when it attempted to go for the eyes. The air filled with yells, screams, and blood as the weak were nearly instantly culled.

Gilika darted to the side, her Greatsword carving into one of the crab's legs, severing a joint with a clean strike. Her heart burned with rage at her children's deaths; she would return the favour in kind.

The beast screeched, its giant claw swinging toward her, but Earnan was already there. With a powerful thrust, he drove his longsword into the gap between its shell and body. He moved with such purpose and power that the shell melted like butter before his blade.

He walked through the battle, his seemingly ordinary footwork placing him in the most advantageous positions, and his simple swings severing limbs. A few seconds later, the crab convulsed, its remaining limbs thrashing in its death throes.

"Push forward!" Earnan shouted, pulling his blade free from its flesh as the creature collapsed into the muck. "There may be more!"

As if on cue, the ground rumbled again, something bigger bursting out of the surface, smashing the metal bars like putty. It cast a large, ominous shadow on them while its shell glistened with wet, hardened mud and clusters of barnacles that covered its back. This one had survived the centuries within these catacombs, growing stronger and more resilient in its isolation.

I regret saying that.

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Mirin was a Black Knife Assassin.

She was one when she knelt before Ella the Nightmaiden and received her curved blade that sang for the Gold that bled red.

She was one when she slew in the name of Sellia and learned their ways of the Night.

She was one when the great betrayer Ranni of the Dark Moon imbued her blade with a fragment of a fragment of the Rune of Destined Death which, owing to its dilution, no longer bestowed Death, but dragged the wounded screaming and begging into its embrace.

She was one when she held down the arms of Godwyn The Golden as her sisters carved the dying Demigod with the Cursemark Of Death.

And now, it was as though she saw herself in the reflection of those golden eyes of Godwyn; the horror of what they'd unleashed upon the world.

She felt like she was paying for her sins when Godwyn the Golden barged into her hiding hole. Those aurous eyes, hair, and looks that even she could appreciate. He was here for revenge, but how? She was there when they did the deed.

But as Ancient Dragon Lightning singed her flesh and she stumbled to her feet, marred by burn marks across her face, she realized that he was no Godwyn.

His eyes were crueller, his features sharper, and he wore Night Cavalry lower body armor. But what truly gave it away was that he was... weak. If the true Godwyn had walked into this room, she would've died before she knew what happened.

Still, this was no opponent to scoff at. He was a behemoth, his power undeniable. But she wasn't afraid. She knew where his weaknesses lay. His size slowed him down, making him vulnerable to her speed and precision.

She excelled at taking down Behemoths.

She darted toward him, her moves ethereal, unpredictable, and blindingly fast. Her dagger aimed for his throat, and she felt a thrill of satisfaction as she saw the dagger reach its target—

A familiar tingling sensation screamed at her instincts and she backpedaled fast as nearly half the narrow room was once again slathered with Ancient Dragon Lightning. She looked at him as though he were insane and sure enough, a maniacal grin was plastered on a charred, blackened husk.

Another flash of Heal made it recognizable as the Godwyn look-alike. Just how much Focus did he have?

"Erdtree dogs and their faith-based spells", she cursed internally.

[Unseen Form]

With a mild shimmer, her form slipped back into the darkness. She could see the frustration in his eyes, the way his muscles tensed as he searched for her. Good. Let him be angry. Anger made people sloppy, but what she didn't expect was his eyes to lock onto her position nearly instantly.

The light from the large torch in his hand burned away her Night Sorcery. Her shock almost cost her, ducking beneath the gilded spear that destroyed the wall behind her. No matter what, even if her [Unseen Form] was seen through, she'd adapt.

She struck again, this time aiming for his knee. A third lightning blast pushed her back, but she was relentless. Attack after attack was met by suicidal blasts of Lightning that nearly killed him every single time, but she was too fast, too elusive. Every time he tried to strike back, she was already gone.

She felt a sense of triumph rising in her chest. He couldn't keep up. Focus was limited and all she needed was one clean hit—a strike to the heart, or the throat—and this would be over. She could feel the rhythm of the battle, the ebb and flow of their movements. She was winning.

But then, something changed.

The giant stopped moving. He stood there, grimacing, supposedly in pain, as if the wanton use of Incantation had finally caught up to him. For a moment, she hesitated, sensing something off. But she pushed the doubt aside. If he could no longer defend himself, that only made her job easier.

She surged forward, her dagger aimed at his abdomen.

She felt the satisfying give of flesh as the blade sank in deep. The sharp inhale that all her victims gave when they felt the fingers of Destined Death wrap around their souls. But then—before she could withdraw it—his hand clamped down on her arm, iron fingers locking down on her arm, iron fingers locking her in place.

Her eyes widened in shock as she looked up to see those two golden suns with intricate patterns staring into her soul. His face was pale, drained by the touch of Destined Death, yet the insane, wild look in his eyes remained undiminished.

"Hello, Mirin," he greeted her with a bloody grin, and before she could react, red-gold lightning erupted from his body one last time.

[Black Knife Assassin Mirin Killed. +6000 EXP]

[Debuff Gained: Touch Of Destined Death: Diluted it may be, Destined Death has touched your soul. Drains HP at (5HP/s) until your soul and body find true death.]

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POWERSTONES! Else Destined Death shall make you get no bitches.

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Also, if you wish to vote for what Godrick's new would weapon should be, then visit my P@treon page. Link in the description. (Can be Guts' sword. )