Lloyd and his party had just arrived at the Dynasty of Blood.
As Mohg had once mentioned during his recollections, the entrance to the Dynasty was hidden within the Consecrated Snowfield, guarded by a Sanguine Noble.
However, under the influence of Lloyd's Law, that entrance now manifested as a teleportation portal. The Sanguine Noble who should have been lurking in the shadows had instead turned into a Red Phantom—none other than the "invader" Lloyd had previously encountered.
Despite being an intruder, the two sides never came to blows.
Before the Red Phantom could approach, Elizabeth, having caught the scent of it, suddenly appeared and drew her spear. The moment the entity recognized who she was, it not only surrendered on the spot but also volunteered to serve as a guide for "Mother," leading Lloyd and his group directly to the entrance of the Mohgwyn Dynasty—the portal Lloyd had seen.
Once he touched it, Lloyd was transported straight into the Mohgwyn Dynasty itself, the very domain of Mohg.
Technically, with Elizabeth's help clearing the way, Lloyd could have rushed through the entire area.
Though it was called a "Dynasty," it was secretly constructed and not very large. If he wanted to, Lloyd could have made it to Mohg in no time and dragged Morgott out to handle things from there.
But he hesitated—worried that doing so might hit a certain Second Brother too hard. If Morgott lost control, he might very well slaughter his own followers in a fit of rage.
After giving it some thought, Elizabeth proposed that Lloyd summon Morgott first and advance together at a slower pace. That way, Morgott could scout the map, farm some Runes, and mentally prepare himself—all while venting his frustration by killing a few enemies.
Her reasoning was sound, and after thinking it over, Lloyd agreed.
He opened the system interface and sent Morgott a message, telling him he'd found Mohg's location and asking if he had time to come over.
[Grace-Given: Of course I do.]
[Grace-Given: Even if I didn't, I'd make time.]
Reading those words, Lloyd could almost hear the teeth-grinding fury behind them.
At the same time, Elizabeth was already sending signals to Mohg, warning him to prepare in advance. She even dispatched a White Mask bearer to deliver the message personally.
Unfortunately, it was all in vain.
Enshrouded in a haze of seductive power, Mohg ignored every warning. Driven by the obsession clouding his mind, he drew near the Blood Cocoon, compelled by the illusion of approaching "truth." As he reached out to touch that hand, he absorbed even more of the alluring force.
The result was disastrous. His mind was consumed further, and before everyone's eyes, he gave a dramatic display of "devotion" toward Miquella. Then, with arrogant defiance, he turned around—ready to show the thieves coveting Miquella what it meant to face the majesty of the Blood King.
And then... nothing.
Bang—
"Your Miquella, huh?"
Bang—
"The Mohgwyn Dynasty, huh?"
Bang—
"You ignored the Frenzied Flame Seal just to run off here, didn't you?"
As it turned out, the majesty of the Blood King meant absolutely nothing before his brother.
When Mohg tried to appeal to Morgott's sense of family, asking him to spare some dignity in front of outsiders, Morgott only hit him harder.
"You dare talk to me about dignity? You filthy— I can't even say it!"
Bang—
After a round of "brotherly bonding," Mohg finally appeared before Lloyd—his head swollen with lumps, his former grandeur completely gone.
Despite his pitiful state, Mohg still tried to keep a straight face, forcing himself to look dignified before this strange Tarnished stranger.
Then...
"This is your father," Elizabeth said solemnly.
"At least he's your potential father."
Mohg: "...?"
Still dazed from the beating, Mohg didn't immediately recognize Elizabeth's identity. He had thought she was insulting him and was just about to get angry, but when he saw the Pike in her hand, he suddenly shuddered. His mind cleared up, and once he realized what Elizabeth's words meant, his thoughts went completely blank for a moment.
Wait, what…
Before he could react, something on Lloyd's shoulder raised a finger and beckoned toward Mohg.
"It's…"
"Frenzied Flame Three-Finger. The very thing you saw back then. It's saying 'long time no see' to you."
Mohg froze, then turned to look at Morgott beside him. The latter remained silent for a while before giving a slight nod and adding,
"He defiled the Frenzied Flame—I mean, its essence. The Three Fingers were just collateral damage."
Hearing that, Mohg went still. He looked at Morgott, confirming he wasn't joking, then at Lloyd, then at Elizabeth.
And then, his brain began to smoke.
"You… no, I… no, she…"
Mohg tried to form coherent words—but failed.
While he was still struggling to speak, Seriel and Trina, who had gone to inspect the blood cocoon, returned.
"The person inside the cocoon isn't Miquella—at least, not entirely."
Mohg froze again, blurting out instinctively,
"Impossible. The person inside is Miquella. He's waiting for me inside—"
Thud—
Another strike of the cursed sword.
Mohg's eyes cleared instantly, his senses snapping back to reality.
"I mean, the person inside couldn't possibly not be Miquella. He's the one I brought back..."
"Then do you remember the process of bringing him back?" Seriel asked.
"Of course I remember—"
His words cut off abruptly. Mohg's gaze went cloudy for an instant before he clutched his head.
"No, I… I…"
Something came to mind, yet the haze still cloaked his soul. Because of his proximity to the blood cocoon, it thickened further, gradually consuming his consciousness.
"I am Miquella's true King. You thieves… I'll kill you all…"
He muttered as he reached for the Mohgwyn's Sacred Spear beside him.
Then—
Click.
Lloyd snapped his fingers. A flash of ethereal flame flickered, burning a hole through the haze clouding Mohg's soul, revealing the truth beyond.
Thud—
Mohg dropped to one knee, one hand gripping the Pike, the other clutching his chest, his face frozen in terror.
He remembered. He hadn't "brought" Miquella back at all.
Though his supposed reasons weren't far off from what he'd imagined, the truth was that he never loved Miquella. He only wanted to use him as a tool to achieve his own ends. Taking advantage of Malenia's absence, he had ambushed the isolated Miquella and dragged him back to the Dynasty of Blood.
But that was only what he thought had happened.
In reality, Miquella had deliberately isolated himself to lure Mohg out. He used his frailty and harmless appearance to lower Mohg's guard, and then—
"He bewitched me. He twisted my pursuit of a 'god' into a craving for a 'companion.'"
Mohg's voice trembled as if recalling something utterly horrific.
"He touched me, caressed me… trying through those gestures to make me his possession…"
"I don't know what he wanted, or why he did it. I only know that he seemed to desire something from me. And it felt like…"
"…like it was my 'body.'"
After a long pause, Mohg forced himself to continue despite the sickness rising in his chest.
"I tried to resist, tried to struggle, but it was all useless…"
"He truly has little strength—pitifully weak for a Demigod. With just a bit of effort, I could have killed him…"
"But I couldn't."
"The enchantment was too powerful. I couldn't defy his commands. I even began to see him as my… my…"
Mohg lowered his head, his voice shaking.
"My companion."
Then, as if recalling something, he clenched his fists.
"Eventually, one of my knights noticed something was wrong. With his help, I regained clarity for a moment and tore off one of Miquella's arms, forcing him to flee in panic…"
"But that was my limit."
"After that, I quickly fell back into the enchantment's grasp. I treated that arm as if it were Miquella himself, enshrining it within the blood cocoon."
"I believed him dead. Day after day, I nourished it with blood, trying to use that arm to recreate a new 'Miquella'..."
"Fortunately, it was only an arm. Though it possessed the power of enchantment and I nurtured it into human form, it ultimately lacked a soul…"
"Otherwise, I…"
Mohg trailed off, falling silent.
...
After listening to Mohg's account, Morgott froze. When he came back to his senses, his first reaction was disbelief.
"Don't make excuses for yourself. Miquella..."
"What he said is probably true."
Seriel spoke softly, his tone inexplicably heavy.
"Brother has always preferred the company of men since childhood—and he seems to harbor a certain fear of women."
Silence fell again.
Morgott glanced at Seriel, then looked down at his younger brother, whose face was covered in bruises and fear. For a brief moment, he began to doubt himself.
Could it be... he had really misunderstood him?
"Even if this whole thing was a misunderstanding, deserting his post and everything about the Dynasty of Blood still happened. For all we know, he was planning to use this to force your hand."
The voice came from the head inside the golden lantern.
Hearing it, Mohg frowned, wondering which fool was running his mouth now. He turned toward the sound.
And then...
"...Big Brother?"
Mohg's sudden address left both Morgott and the head inside the lantern frozen in surprise.
"What nonsense are you spouting? This is Godrick. He may carry our brother's blood, but—"
"He is our brother!"
Without hesitation, Mohg lunged forward, snatched up the lantern, and clutched it in his hands with teary-eyed excitement.
"Brother, how come you're just a head now? Don't worry, I'll make you a new body! What kind do you want—"
"Stop shaking me already. You're making me dizzy..."
Though he wasn't sure how he'd been recognized, Godwyn-in-the-Lamp gave up pretending. After ordering Mohg to stop, he continued speaking.
"I'm not entirely your brother—just like the 'Miquella' inside that cocoon isn't really Miquella. She's just... an arm you tore off. You get what I mean?"
"I get it, I get it."
Though he said he understood, the way Mohg gazed at the head inside the lantern didn't change in the slightest. His eyes still burned with fervent emotion.
After all, he had thought his elder brother was long dead. That was why he'd planned to build the Dynasty of Blood and flee with his second brother. But now, even if only a fragment of his brother remained, it was still the best news he could have hoped for.
Realizing Mohg might actually be telling the truth, Morgott fell silent for a moment before turning to Lloyd. This time, however, it was Elizabeth who spoke.
"That child possesses a remarkable ability to see through 'reality'—that's the very reason I took an interest in him. It's probably also why he was able to claw back a bit of clarity from that enchantment."
After listening to Elizabeth's explanation, Morgott glanced at Mohg, who was still visibly emotional, then at the lantern in his hands. Thinking back on how he had treated that same lantern before, he paused briefly, then turned away.
"Huh? Old Margit, where are you going?"
"To find a cliff and jump off it."
Of course, they dragged him back before he could.
Still, even though he didn't jump, Morgott ended up sitting alone on the stairs afterward, gripping the horns on his head and falling into gloomy silence. No matter how much the head inside the lantern tried to comfort or explain, he didn't respond at all.
"I think your mother's worries were justified."
Watching the scene, Lloyd pulled aside his cloak and murmured to the petite Melina within.
"Getting stuck in a rut doesn't seem like a hornsent cultural trait. It feels more like a racial talent."
"I think so too."
Melina nodded in quiet agreement.
After a bit more noise and chaos, the three brothers finally finished talking.
Mohg managed to suppress his fear of Miquella for the moment. Morgott decided not to dwell on his earlier interaction with the lantern. And the lantern itself...
"Lloyd, do me a favor. When Mohg was shaking me earlier, he got Fortissax's Spirit Ash stuck in my mouth..."
After helping extract Fortissax's souls from Godwyn-in-the-Lamp's mouth, Lloyd chatted with the brothers a while longer. Once they'd gone over the situation, he asked what they planned to do about the Dynasty of Blood.
"Of course we'll disband it..."
"Keep it."
The head in the lantern immediately countered Morgott's words.
"As long as this thing exists, you two will always have a fallback—no matter how bad things get."
Morgott still looked uncertain.
"But... the Erdtree—"
"You're gold, I'm gold? If I don't care, what are you worrying about?"
Morgott was left speechless.
He did have a habit of overthinking, but if there was anyone in this world who could twist his horns straight again, it was his eldest brother.
With his brother's support, Mohg wore a smug grin.
But it lasted only a few seconds before Godwyn-in-the-Lamp spoke again.
"I said you two could find a way out, but I didn't say you could make your own brother into a 'god.' Don't tell me you don't know the difference between a god and a king. If you hadn't already had that thought, Miquella's trick would never have worked on you."
Mohg immediately deflated.
Unlike Morgott, though, he perked up again after a few seconds, as if remembering something.
"Big Brother, there's something—I just remembered something. Don't get angry when you hear it..."
"Speak."
"Earlier, when Miquella was leaving, I think I sensed your aura on him..."
Mohg hesitated before continuing.
"And based on a few clues, I suspect he's been collecting your fragments..."
Silence.
Long ago, Godwyn-in-the-Lamp had told Lloyd he could feel someone gathering fragments of his souls. But neither had thought much of it. Godwyn had plenty of followers—some trying to piece him back together wasn't exactly unusual.
But now...
"Lloyd."
"Yeah, I know. I'll find him for you as soon as possible."
Lloyd nodded, understanding his urgency.
Truth be told, Godwyn didn't fear death. Even after Ranni had slain him, he'd praised her cunning without resentment.
But this—this he truly feared. It was the first time since becoming Godwyn-in-the-Lamp that he'd felt genuine panic.
After wrapping up their talk, the three brothers, newly reunited and still with much to say, excused themselves and headed to Mohg's chambers to continue their conversation.
Yet even after they left, Lloyd remained.
Instead of departing, he adjusted his talisman and redistributed his attributes, then drew out the blood whip Elizabeth had once given him.
Seriel and Millicent exchanged confused looks, scanning the area. There wasn't a single enemy in sight.
"Um, Lord Lloyd, you..."
"You two go find somewhere to rest. I'll be done soon."
With that, Lloyd raised his head and looked toward Elizabeth.
She twirled the trident in her hands, then shook her head with a faint smile.
"Oh dear, you noticed me, huh..."
"You never intended to hide it, did you?"
"Of course not. Where do you think the 'truth' in my name comes from?"
Flipping her hand, she drove the trident into the ground.
The Mohgwyn Palace began to quake.
As Elizabeth's aura spread outward, the faithful who sensed that "gaze" dropped to their knees. First came wild ecstasy, then trembling devotion as they extended their hands and began to carve wounds into their own flesh in every conceivable way. They bled freely, almost gleefully, hoping that by offering their pain, that gaze would linger on them just a moment longer.
"Good children... all such good children..."
Elizabeth whispered softly.
Then, she slowly lifted her head.
But this time, her face no longer bore its usual teasing lightness, nor any trace of tenderness or affection.
What replaced it was pure indifference—cold and absolute. And from her crimson eyes, two streams of dark red tears fell, glimmering as they traced her cheeks.
They were the tears of Accursed Blood.
She opened her mouth, her voice now carrying an unfamiliar chill, a strange and unsettling resonance that felt almost otherworldly.
"Do you know why I'm the only one who can't form a Covenant with you?"
"I do."
Lloyd nodded, flicking the whip in his hand, testing its weight and feel.
"Because from the very beginning, you've never felt anything for me."
"Or rather, you feel that way toward everything."
"Yes."
Elizabeth nodded. Around her, countless shards of "truth" began to converge, their sheer number so great that the very light around her warped and twisted.
She pulled the Pike from the ground, and flames of Blood ignited upon its tip—burning more fiercely and brightly than ever before.
"Because 'truth' is nothing but a wound, soaked in blood."
Her Pike swung through the air, tearing apart the "truth" before her and rending open vast, horrifying gashes.
The blood that flowed from those wounds drifted upward, suspended in midair. Then, under the influence of an unseen force, it began to burn slowly, gathering and folding upon itself—
—until it became a pair of colossal blood-red wings that blotted out the sky.
"And apart from pain and wounds, everything else is false."
Elizabeth raised her Pike once more, its tip aimed straight at Lloyd.
Then...
"This is the perspective of my essence. I merely relay it—I don't agree with it. That said..."
After setting her stance, Elizabeth exhaled softly.
"But I am the vessel of that essence. No matter what my personal will may be, I must act according to its laws."
"So..."
"We fight, don't we?"
Lloyd flicked the whip again, meeting her gaze.
"Yes."
Elizabeth's voice was calm.
"Only wounds and pain are real. Only wounds and pain can reach that twisted essence. And only wounds and pain—"
"—can bind us in Covenant."
The moment her words ended, Elizabeth vanished.
In the next instant, her Pike pierced straight through Lloyd's body.
Splatter—
Blood exploded outward, and Lloyd's health bar dropped to zero.
But the game didn't end.
[Special Domain: True Essence]
[True Essence: Bleed efficiency maximized. Bleed damage increased to instant kill. Pain threshold raised to maximum.]
[Defense disabled. Evasion disabled. Item use disabled. Sorceries disabled. Healing disabled.]
[And—]
Boom—
Instead of using the whip, Lloyd grabbed Elizabeth's head with his bare hand and slammed it viciously into the ground.
The sound was wet and brutal. Her skull burst like an overripe melon, crimson pulp spraying everywhere. The blood that splattered across the floor rose into a mist—thick, sweet, and metallic—blanketing the entire battlefield.
Within that mist, countless mouths seemed to bloom, all laughing in eerie harmony.
Amid that laughter, the corpses scattered across the ground dissolved into vapor, merging with the crimson haze.
From within that red fog, new shapes began to take form.
Elizabeths.
Not one. Not two. A dozen.
As soon as they solidified, the new "Elizabeths" lunged forward. In the blink of an eye, over a dozen Pikes impaled Lloyd, skewering him like a hedgehog.
A moment later, crimson whip-shadows lashed through the air—not to strike, but to coil like serpents, binding the Elizabeths together. Lloyd stepped forward and pulled them all into an embrace.
"Ah, as I thought—I really do like you," one of the Elizabeths said, winking at him with a sweet, mischievous smile.
Lloyd looked back at her and nodded.
"Yeah, I like you too."
Then he tightened his grip.
Ever seen a soda bottle after it's been shaken and the cap suddenly pops off?
It was like that.
Except the caps were heads—and there were over a dozen of them.
It looked like a fountain. A spectacular, horrifying fountain.
He tossed the pile aside, brushing off the bits of viscera that clung to him. A stray eyeball rolled onto his shoulder; he plucked it off absently.
Then, raising his gaze once more, Lloyd stared at the ever-multiplying figures of "Elizabeth" before him, flexing his wrist expressionlessly.
The domain's final effect appeared before his eyes.
[Both Parties Immortal]
[Revel in the Madness!]