Lucian casually dealt with the insolent Marionette Soldiers. Now they lay shattered beyond repair, with no chance of piecing themselves back together.
He turned toward Elyssa and the Silver Knights behind him and ordered.
"Stay alert. If the Academy dares to send any more prisoners against us, then it will be our turn to strike first."
Elyssa nodded. Since Lucian had already made his final declaration, it was something they would have to carry out.
If Raya Lucaria continued to provoke them and they did not respond, it would tarnish Lucian's reputation. Besides, Stormveil had no reason to fear the Academy.
In terms of strength, Stormveil now held the advantage. The only reason Raya Lucaria remained troublesome was its self-imposed isolation. Otherwise, Lucian would have already brought the fight to their doorstep.
This declaration served as both a warning and a final concession. If the Academy persisted in its harassment, Lucian truly would go to war with them.
Without further delay, Lucian urged Torrent toward the cliffside, leaping down from one jutting stone monument to the next.
These stone platforms were spaced even farther apart than in the game, distances no ordinary creature could ever manage. Fortunately, Torrent was agile, and Lucian conjured crude streams of stormwind to aid their descent.
In a short time, Torrent carried him safely to the valley floor.
Elyssa and the Silver Knights watched Lucian vanish into the mists and forests of Liurnia. Only when his figure was fully swallowed by the haze did they return to the chapel to rest.
The knights whispered amongst themselves, praising Lucian's overwhelming strength, their expressions full of admiration.
Elyssa, meanwhile, recalled their first meeting—when Lucian had fought within the sealed gaol.
How long has it been since then? And he's already grown even stronger…
She had joined him early on, witnessing his steady rise firsthand. His growth was a boon, even if the speed of it bordered on the unbelievable.
—
At the Academy of Raya Lucaria
The leaders of the classrooms gathered once again.
Behind their glimmering glintstone masks, they exchanged silent looks, none speaking, each lost in thought. Light flickered across their hoods with every turn of their minds.
At last, the mage beneath the Olivinus Glintstone Crown broke the silence, "Regarding Storm King Lucian's words earlier… what do you all make of them?"
Silence lingered still.
The speaker sighed and pressed further, "Or do you believe he even possesses such strength?"
It was Karolos who responded first.
"Stormveil under him is not the same as under Godrick. The Tarnished soldiers are indeed capable fighters. But if his power lay only in those soldiers, the Academy would have little to fear.
Our magical defenses remain solid. No matter how many troops besiege us, our sorcery would reduce them to ash.
But as for him himself—someone of such strength—we have no one who can match him. Unless one of you is willing to confront him directly, I believe we should not provoke him further.
Sellia has gone utterly silent. Whether they've defected or been slaughtered, we cannot tell."
This was a truth they all knew.
Though they had succeeded in seizing the Academy and imprisoning the Queen of the Full Moon, none among them rivaled Rennala's power. Their rebellion had only succeeded because the Queen had lost her mind.
Many were skilled—some able to contend even with Carian Knights—but the absence of a true pinnacle of strength was undeniable.
They had discovered traces of Sellen and confirmed that Lucian was the one who freed her.
Their intent had been to pressure Stormveil, but this new king's strength had far exceeded their expectations. Now, Raya Lucaria found itself trapped between choices.
Worse still—if Sellen shared ties with Lucian, whether as mentor, ally, or something more—then as long as he chose to protect her, they could never rid themselves of that thorn.
And if their schemes were exposed, Lucian storming their gates was far from impossible.
The Twinsage Sorcerer tried to offer comfort, "It matters not. The Carian gates remain sealed. Unless we open them ourselves, they will find no path to assault us."
But another Sorcerer quickly countered, "He claimed our seal was not without flaw…"
Lazuli slammed a hand upon the table, berating the timid voice. "Nonsense! Nothing is perfect in this world. And what would a warrior know of our sorcery? Empty threats before battle are common enough."
"No, no, don't forget—there are still keys out in the wild."
"And where are they? Even we don't know. How could he possibly find them?"
The debate devolved into noise, each sorcerer arguing their own stance, but with no resolution.
Karolos watched the bickering crowd and felt only helplessness. In truth, their unity had always been one of interest, not strength. None among them commanded enough power to silence the others.
"Enough! Decide what we are to do next."
Reluctantly, the Olivinus Sorcerer proposed, "He's already in Liurnia, but it seems he is not coming straight for us. Since he treads our land, let us simply observe what he intends.
And as for those damned Cuckoos—send them on patrol. If nothing else, it will wear them down."
Even at such a time, they sought to bleed the Cuckoos for their own gain.
The proposal was accepted without further protest.
—
Liurnia of the Lakes
Lucian guided Torrent along half-submerged roads, the waters rising nearly to his knees. But Torrent had once galloped across the Scarlet Rot of Swamp of Aeonia; these shallow lakes posed no hindrance.
If all he sought was to resolve Stormveil's dispute, Lucian could have already turned back. He had given his ultimatum—war or peace, the choice was now the Academy's.
But his journey to Liurnia was not for them alone. He sought something else—an opportunity to deepen his ties with Ranni.
Soon, he reached a flat stretch of shoreline, small but sufficient to rest. There, a Site of Grace glimmered beside a young wandering merchant.
Lucian touched the Grace first, kindling it with light, then approached the merchant. What he needed was a map—any map, however crude.
Liurnia was vast, its mists and endless woods making navigation difficult.
The merchant, unlike most of his kin who sat upon the bare ground, perched instead upon a small stool. Upon seeing Lucian, he looked surprised, then spoke first:
"Oh? From that direction… You've come from Stormveil, haven't you?"
Lucian nodded. "I have. Why?"
The merchant's eyes lit with excitement.
"Then perhaps you can tell me—how does one reach Stormveil? I've heard from a fellow traveler that there's great fortune to be made there. I've long wanted to set up trade, but the main road has collapsed. None from Liurnia can pass that way anymore."
"He told me of a narrow path instead, but Liurnia's twisting trails and heavy fog have left me lost."
Lucian asked, curious, "And what exactly did your fellow say about this path?"
The merchant thought for a moment.
"He said on Stormveil's eastern side lies a small road, with nothing more dangerous than wolves along the way. Following it, one could reach the other side of the broken bridge, near Stormveil's main gate."
"But I've searched and searched—I couldn't even find the bridge's remains on this side."
The great roads between regions had all but crumbled, some collapsed, others overrun with danger. Yet hidden trails still remained, and for wandering merchants, such paths were common knowledge.
Lucian recalled the route he spoke of. It was indeed real, though somewhat hidden. From there one could reach the heavily fortified main gate.
So he told the merchant the general location. Whether the man could find it would be a matter of luck.
Casually, Lucian asked, "By the way, was this fellow of yours named Kale?"
The merchant blinked. "Eh? You know him? That's right, he came from Stormveil not long ago."
Indeed, it was Kale.
"How is he?" Lucian pressed.
"When I last saw him, he was well. His trade goods and supplies are among the best of our kind. He said he was searching for the Grand Caravan. I had always thought that was only a tale from our childhood, but he seemed determined. I hope he finds it."
Their chat ended there. Out of courtesy, Lucian browsed the man's wares, though little of it was of interest to him.
What disappointed him most was the lack of a map. The merchant carried only goods useful to soldiers—oils, consumables, and such.
Lucian lingered a moment on a small hand lantern, crafted neatly to hang at the waist and free the hands. The light was dim and sometimes blocked by the body, but it was practical. The merchant had dozens in stock, clearly a mainstay of his trade.
Though Lucian purchased nothing, the merchant, grateful for the directions, gifted him one of the lanterns. Unlike its high price in the game, here it was rather common.
The man also gave him a lead:
"Along this road stands a small pavilion. I once met a young girl there, with golden hair and a green robe. She held a complete map of Liurnia and even guided me a little."
"She seemed troubled, but I'm only a merchant—I couldn't help her. Perhaps if you seek a map, you could ask her."
Lucian set off again. The girl could only be Rya, the envoy of Volcano Manor.
That she held Liurnia's map was unsurprising. After all, though only her foster daughter, Tanith treated Rya with true care. By bloodline, one might even call her Ranni's niece.
The road carried Lucian past many ruins, haunted by twisted specters with contorted limbs and grotesque visages. Whether they had once been the residents of these places, or had simply claimed them after death, was unclear.
At one stone monument, where in the game one might dig for maps, he searched but found nothing. The waters had long swallowed any such traces. Abandoning the effort, he pressed on, following the merchant's directions.
Before long, a small pavilion appeared in the midst of the lake.
There, Lucian spotted a figure in green.
Rya sat at the edge of the pavilion, cheeks puffed in frustration, her chin resting on her hands.
The sound of Torrent's hooves splashing drew her gaze. At once, she stood, brushing off her robe, straightening it as best she could.
Then she waved timidly, calling in a soft voice, "Excuse me, good sir—would you come here for a moment?"
Lucian dismounted before her, studying her closely.
She looked young, still with a trace of childish roundness in her cheeks—her delicate face quite endearing. Yet her back was hunched, her neck craning forward, a posture almost painful to behold. Lucian knew it was because of her true serpent form, but if she stood straight, she would be far more graceful.
Seeing him approach, Rya bowed politely before speaking, her voice tinged with hope, "Thank you for coming. Though this is our first meeting… may I trouble you for help? Of course, I will offer proper reward."