Elden Ring: The Shattering!

The sun rose as usual, but the flames of war had already engulfed The Lands Between. Numerous towns and villages had turned to barren wastelands. In this remote corner of Liurnia, even a thousand-man battle couldn't stir up much of a ripple.

The sunlight quickly stretched, shining through the ruins of the manor and finally falling upon the tall outer walls of the Caria stronghold. A petite young girl leaned against the crumbling wall, surrounded by bomb craters. Her azure eyes gazed southward, carrying an expression of disbelief.

"They… held their ground?"

The Carian banners still fluttered at the highest point. After a chaotic night of battle, the manor had astonishingly not fallen.

"It seems the Cuckoo's offensive has collapsed into the mire. Logically, such an outcome shouldn't have occurred. We'll have to wait for Alain to send the battle report."

A cold voice rang out as Blaidd approached quickly from the wall. His armor was damaged, clearly a testament to a hard-fought battle.

Resting against his chest was a large greenish-gray severed hand, its ten fingers twitching incessantly like a loyal dog wagging its tail. However, the grotesque combination of the hand with the severed limb was nothing short of horrifying.

The Half-Wolf warrior frowned, yanked the hand off, and casually threw it over the wall. What lay below was a scene that would make anyone's scalp tingle.

Large severed hands scuttled about like spiders. Some burrowed into the ground, others climbed the walls, preying on anything nearby.

This macabre sight was something the master and servant were long accustomed to. Ranni turned her head and softly asked, "Have they retreated?"

"They've retreated, taking all the c*orpses with them. But Alecto won't give up so easily." Standing beside the diminutive young lady—barely reaching his chest—Blaidd knelt on one knee, likely out of respect for his master's dignity.

"Your Highness, are you mourning last night's losses? Forgive me for being blunt, but even Adula was sent to assist. You've already done your best. Frankly, Iji's plan…"

Before he could finish, the girl raised her hand to interrupt him. She was well aware of her strategist's plan.

The automatic defensive formations around the manor were complete. Using the manor as bait, they could lure in the greedy Cuckoo forces. Even the outer city could be sacrificed if necessary.

Those Cuckoo forces had no real understanding of the Carian royal family's resources. They would inevitably suffer setbacks in the inner city, and as they retreated, they'd be struck down by enchanted arrows from above. The countryside would then be littered with the remains of the Cuckoo forces.

"Iji's strategy would indeed bring the conflict to a decisive end. But it's not the best outcome."

Blaidd froze for a moment, then nodded heavily. Such a plan would render the Carian royal family, the Cuckoo Legion, and the Raya Lucaria Academy powerless to advance. Liurnia would devolve into a stagnant swamp, merely awaiting someone to shatter the balance.

"It's undeniably efficient, but overly pessimistic."

Ranni said nothing. The gentle southern breeze brushed her azure hair as she gazed into the distance. No one could discern what this Demigod was contemplating.

Was she pitying her subordinates? Harboring hatred for her enemies? Or had her vision already transcended The Lands Between, gazing into the vast cosmos?

The Half-Wolf stood silently by her side, squinting slightly, hoping to prolong this tranquil moment. Unfortunately, a gale suddenly swept down from above as a Flying Dragon descended in spiraling motion.

Boom…

The walls trembled as the Glintstone Dragon shed several scales, some tangled with aquatic plants.

"Well done, Adula." Ranni extended her hand, and the dragon quickly lowered its head to gently nuzzle her hand. A soft cooing sound emerged from its throat, showing not a trace of its former ferocity.

The stark contrast between the dragon's massive head and her small hand carried a strange tenderness.

"Oh? You and Smarag still haven't decided the winner, but you managed to land a few solid blows? Good work, Adula."

It seemed Ranni could understand the dragon's language. She nodded repeatedly as Adula recounted the battle from the previous night.

Upon hearing about the Cuckoo's ambush, she frowned slightly, finding their move particularly ruthless. With Caria's focus on the main assault, such an unexpected strike could have thrown their forces into disarray.

"Luckily, Alain is a seasoned general. He must have had reserves prepared."

The Glintstone Dragon shook its head, revealing the true situation. Ranni froze, her eyes widening as astonishment clearly spread across her face.

"Your Highness, what exactly happened?" Blaidd couldn't help but ask.

Ranni gently patted the head of the Glintstone Dragon, signaling for it to rest. As its wings stirred up a fierce wind and it turned away, she revealed a peculiar smile.

"The Cuckoo's assault was overwhelming. Alain had already committed the reserve forces to battle, leaving only a five-man squad to guard the retreat."

"That's impossible!" The Half-Wolf immediately shook his head and explained, "The Cuckoo's ambush was substantial, led by at least several Cuckoo Knights. Even if Bols himself were stationed in the rear, it wouldn't have guaranteed they could hold."

"Which is why this is a miracle. Not only did they hold their ground, but they also managed to rally scattered soldiers and launch a counterattack, ultimately scaring the Cuckoo away."

Ranni pressed her delicate fingers together and smiled softly. "The hero responsible for this feat is someone you know."

"Who?" Blaidd leaned forward, unable to imagine how desperate and critical the situation had been.

The Moon Princess once again looked toward the south, where the black smoke continued to rise from the estate. As the wind carried it away, she softly uttered a few words: "Kaelith Light."

...

Kaelith himself was unaware that his extraordinary performance had been witnessed by his superior. Having experienced countless similar grueling battles, it was difficult for him to muster any sense of exhilaration.

After all, achievements or accolades mattered little to him. Survival didn't depend on reputation but on real power.

"Hmm, the snowball is gradually growing. This body now has the strength of a low-ranking knight... but harvesting those heads toward the end was incredibly inefficient. Could it be another bottleneck?"

Walking across the slick ground, surrounded by hurried soldiers, Kaelith mulled over the events of the previous night. Apart from the wounded resting, most were frantically repairing fortifications. But Kaelith chose to loaf around, reliving the bloody chaos.

Initially, defeating a Cuckoo soldier would grant him "1" unit of strength. But as the carnage continued and his physical capabilities improved, the returns diminished to 0.8, 0.5, 0.3, and so on. Clenching his fists to confirm his senses, he let out a wry smile and shook his head.

"Adaptability to stronger foes, huh? This path truly has no shortcuts. I even thought slaughtering weaklings could snowball into power."

Quantity could never replace quality. As for Sword Saints atop ten-mile ridges, they remained out of reach. Yet, Kaelith wasn't bothered. If cutting down grunts could lead to the pinnacle, the journey would be far too dull.

Unknowingly, Kaelith arrived at last night's battlefield. He paused his steps and glanced to the side, where a man lay slumped against the broken wall—a humble spearman from the squad.

This quiet, taciturn man had fallen without a sound, a lance piercing his chest. His empty eyes stared at the ground, silently perishing in this desolate place.

Last night, only Carine and Arnold survived from the squad. Kaelith approached slowly, crouched down, and gently closed the fallen man's eyes.

"Let victory bring solace to those who fell in sacrifice. Brave warriors shall be eternal."

A deep voice interrupted from the side. Kaelith turned to see a golden-haired knight striding over, his cloak draped over the corpse as he fixed his gleaming gaze on Kaelith.

"Don't be disheartened. This soldier's sacrifice ensured victory, leaving him with no regrets."

Over 500 Cuckoo soldiers had been slain in one night, their elite strike team entirely obliterated. It was undoubtedly a decisive victory.

"Your praise is too generous, Lord Alain." Kaelith remained composed, prompting the knight to clap his shoulder firmly.

"Excessive humility can come off as arrogance. When you win, you should smile. When you repel the enemy, you should raise a toast. Come now, laugh with me!"

The knight laughed heartily, even cursing amidst his chuckles: "Those despicable Cuckoos lie dead across the fields! I told you they wouldn't take this place unless they brought their leaders to the fray!"

Kaelith forced a faint smile, his feigned expression leaving Alain awkward. The knight rubbed his nose and muttered, "You really are no fun. Sometimes, it feels like you've emerged from some battlefield of carnage or survived unspeakable despair."

Indeed, I have.

Kaelith's face twitched as the dashing knight's insight hit too close to home. He quickly redirected the conversation.

"Lord Alain, is there a new mission?"

"There is, there is! But relax, it's good news." Alain once again patted Kaelith on the shoulder. His gaze no longer regarded Kaelith as a subordinate but as an equal—though their strength was still worlds apart, Alain couldn't help but admire his valor.

Alain personally led over a warhorse, casting an envious glance at the distant stronghold.

"Come now, Princess Ranni herself wishes to personally commend you!"