On a pitch-black night, eight funereal steeds draped in dark armor crossed the lands of Limgrave. Upon their backs rode black-clad horsemen, each armed with halberd or flail, silent as the grave. They were the Night's Cavalry, their very existence swallowed by shadow. The night itself was their strongest armor.
But in recent days, they had bled dearly. The relentless hunts of the Crucible Knights had cut down many of their number. Though they had dealt wounds in return, trading life for injury was far too costly.
To continue fighting in pairs or trios was no longer wise. They had once scattered to avoid being wiped out in a single strike by the Storm King. Yet dispersed, they were hunted down, two by two, by the Crucible Knights.
Now, however, new intelligence brought them hope.
It was said the Storm King, Lucian, had not shown himself at Stormveil Castle for a long time. He had left—destination unknown, and would not be returning soon.
They watched for two or three days more, and all signs confirmed it.
They did not believe he had departed, but rather that he had been gravely wounded in his battle against ten of their brethren.
After all, Lord Margit had spoken of Lucian's strength: formidable, yes, but only on par with the level of a hero. Since no rider had returned from that clash, they had no knowledge of the truth. If Lucian had fought alongside Crucible Knights, then it was natural no message was ever sent back.
Now, however, only Crucible Knights were seen, ceaselessly rushing from battlefield to battlefield. Lucian himself was nowhere.
By their reckoning, he was not one to sit idle. Thus the only explanation was that he had been incapacitated. Whether injured or not, the Storm King would not be appearing.
Relieved, they changed tactics once again, gathering into a troop of eight.
Whatever his fate, they now had greater opportunities. Their earlier plan—to slay small groups of Tarnished and prevent them from reaching Stormveil—had not succeeded. Stormveil had already drawn many Tarnished to its banner. Remaining in Limgrave, the Night's Cavalry could no longer hinder much.
Lord Margit had already issued new orders. In a few days' time, they were to leave Limgrave for the Altus Plateau. Until then, they resolved to strike hard one final time, wreaking as much havoc on Stormveil as they could.
This time, their intent was simple: to hunt large bands of Tarnished. If they came upon Stormveil soldiers, Kaiden Sellswords, Stormveil guards, even trolls—they would slaughter them too. With Lucian absent, they could act boldly.
If Crucible Knights appeared, then eight riders together, each only slightly weaker than the knights themselves—could still deal grievous wounds.
The Crucible Knights were powerful, the Night's Cavalry admitted, and worthy of respect. They were true heroes who had once marched with Godfrey, the First Elden Lord. Against ordinary knights or soldiers, even in the hundreds, the Crucible Knights would never falter.
But the Night's Cavalry were no ordinary foes. They were not weaklings to be trampled, they were true shadow-heroes, reapers of heroes themselves.
Even when fighting in twos and threes, without full coordination, they had left Crucible Knights bloodied. Now, with eight riding as one, they were certain of victory. Even if they could not kill the knights outright, they could wound them enough to force days of recovery.
Without the Crucible Knights to answer Stormveil's cries, they would be free to unleash devastation across all Limgrave.
Thus emboldened, they no longer cared about the stormhawks wheeling above. In fact, they almost welcomed them, hoping the birds would summon the Crucible Knights so they could be cut down. If fortune favored them, killing the Crucible Knights would be like tearing the wings from the Storm King himself.
Dreams of triumph filled their minds. None of them realized that among their number rode one more figure—an unseen man upon a spectral steed.
Lucian, astride Torrent, silently watched them from within their own formation.
After receiving intel from the Stormhawks, Lucian had rushed to the area near the Night Cavalry.
Once he had obtained the night sorceries of Sellia, he tried Unseen Form, a sorcery that makes both rider and steed partially invisible, allowing to move undetected, and, as expected, it wasn't perfect.
Even when the Sorcerers stood still, Lucian had been able to lock onto them.
If they used magic, skills, or moved, the invisibility was even less effective — useful only for ambushing completely unguarded targets.
Moreover, after the Night of the Black Knives, Leyndell had been equipped with Sentry's Torches that could expose invisible targets.
So Lucian decided to test the duration of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow Invisibility Mode ahead of time.
Now that he had more charges of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow, and his strength no longer left him constantly on edge, he felt more prepared.
As long as he had one way to escape and one source of burst damage, there was nothing in the Lands Between that could truly threaten him anymore.
So the charges weren't as precious as before, and he could afford to use one for testing.
He believed it was necessary to test beforehand.
If he entered the Royal Capital and found that the Invisibility mode only lasted a few minutes, he might end up surrounded.
At that point, he might be forced to use another Super Damage or invisibility just to escape.
Either way, it was likely he'd need to use two charges of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow — better to plan ahead.
Back in the day, he wouldn't even dare use a 5x Rune Multiplier when using the likes of Hero's Rune, because he was too weak — he had no room for error.
Back then, every use of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow was as precious as life itself.
But now, Lucian had enough confidence. Aside from two reserved for emergencies, the rest were free to be used.
He currently had four charges remaining — using one to test was more than enough.
Besides, many achievements weren't even hard to complete.
Now, having personally experienced the invisibility, Lucian had a clear understanding of its effects.
The results astonished him.
During an hour of invisibility, neither he nor Torrent left shadow, sound, or even hoofprint upon the land. They seemed to exist in another dimension, unable to affect the world around them. Even when Lucian swung at the riders, his weapon passed harmlessly through their bodies.
"This is too strong," he muttered, stroking the stubble at his chin. "No… this isn't mere invisibility at all. It's like Kamui from that Ninja world."
Yet he quickly grasped its limits. He could not attack without first dismissing the ability. It was invaluable for ambush or retreat, but not a substitute for true invulnerability. Continuous damage effects would not vanish, and against single, overwhelming strikes, the protection of invincibility was far more reliable.
Still, for retreat, recovery, or setting up buffs before a strike, it had its uses. Lucian himself was not the sort to flee—but it was no waste to keep the tool at hand.
As he pondered, the Night's Cavalry found prey. Ahead lay a group of twenty to thirty Tarnished, their chosen victims for tonight's slaughter.
Lucian sighed. He had hoped to shadow them back to their lair, but he could not stand idle and let innocents die.
He dismissed the invisibility.
The cavalry spurred their steeds into a charge, sending the Tarnished scattering in terror. But suddenly, within their own ranks, a figure appeared as though from nothing.
They turned—and their blood froze.
The Storm King.
When had he come? Why was he here, in their formation?
No matter. He would die surrounded.
Yet that thought would be their undoing.
Torrent surged forward, swifter than the funeral steeds. Lucian's Dragon Slayer Swordspear pierced one rider clean through, leaving the man hanging from the shaft.
Weapons lashed from every side, but Lucian vaulted high, Torrent vanishing into mist beneath him.
From above, the Swordspear descended like a storm. A rider raised his halberd in defense, but it shattered as horse and man were driven into the ground, pinned in a crater.
Magic flared outward, splitting the lands into jagged slabs, breaking their charge.
Lucian swept his Swordspear sideways, severing the forelegs of another funeral steed. Horse and rider tumbled down, only narrowly saved by comrades dragging them back.
The Night's Cavalry were shaken. Lucian's strength was far beyond Margit's reports. If he had wiped out their previous troop alone, then his power was monstrous indeed.
Their commander's face hardened. In his grasp was a horn of black steel.
If blown, it would summon every rider in Limgrave. The cost would be great, but Lucian was not a demigod. If all their number struck as one, they might yet drag him down.
The mournful blast tore through the night. Across Limgrave, riders turned from their hunts and raced toward the sound.
For the Night's Cavalry, the meaning was clear:
The highest prey had been found.
—
[T/N: The Night's Cavalry were originally founded and led by Margit, the Fell Omen, who served as their commander and deliverer of death for great warriors, knights, and champions. I believe there is no direct evidence in the game that the Night's Cavalry are aware of Margit's identity as a son of Queen Marika or his 'connection' to Morgott.]