The Outer Lord

Chapter 10 - Honour to the Red Lion

The crimson sky was sombre that day. Dark and heavier, it was as if the sky knew what was coming, of the blood about to be spilled. From all over the Lands Between, people of all kinds moved in pilgrimage towards Redmane Castle, the bastion overlooking Radahn's haunt. The fallen general's soldiers and knights, clinging to their loyalty yet knowing what had to be done, were even more ferocious and vigilant in their purging of the land, clearing the roads of the aberrant creatures spawned by the Rot. They piled the corpses, raising some on stakes to mark the path toward the castle.

Warriors of Godrick, knights, soldiers, exiles, all made their way from Limgrave in search of a purpose and a challenge, now freed from their service to the deranged Demigod. Likewise, the scattered remnants of the Knights of the Cuckoo had fled Liurnia, cutting a gratuitous, rapacious path across Limgrave as they ventured to the blighted lands of Caelid.

They all knew what they were doing and what awaited them. War horns sounded a clarion call across the red wastes, signalling to the caravan of glory seekers. Some, more eager for blood than others, passed their time by joining the remnants of Radahns Redmanes by hunting the mutated beasts.

On a ridge overlooking the pestilent expanse, Talos sat atop Torrent and watched as a procession of steel marched onward towards Redmane Castle. There were hundreds, each having heard the call to battle. He didn't know what compelled them, but something told him that this wasn't an unusual occurrence. Below, some had spotted him, but made no moves to attack.

It had been a long time since Talos had seen such a mass of soldiers. Not since the days of Boletaria's wars with the demons had he seen such a gathering. He remembered it, those memories having been scored into his memory. One amongst many, pike in hand and sword on his hip, shoulder to shoulder with his brothers-in-arms, with only the barest of armour to protect him. Then, he was a mounted knight, bedecked in full plate with a lance, charging into the hordes of terror in a mass cavalry charge. The glory of it all. The rush. The sensation of encroaching doom with nothing but his courage and the men at his back. This sight brought a rush of nostalgia, and he found himself smiling despite the circumstances.

Together, he and Torrent raced across Caelid until they reached the gates of Redmane Castle. He dismounted and joined the throngs of warriors already making their way inside. They paid him no mind, their countenances grim and focused. Many who were already there were chatting amongst themselves, laughing and joking. Even though everyone knew what they were going to do, there was a certain levity in the air, when one might expect fear or grim resolve. And yet, it was more akin to a festival or celebration. Warriors of different lands and different banners mingled and talked like they were old friends.

Over the courtyard, weapons and shields hung suspended on ropes like bunting. Ahead, he spotted several figures that differed from the rest as they made their way into the castle proper

''Blaidd!'' Talos called out, and the massive wolf-man's ears perked up. As he looked up from the fire he stood by, Alexander's rotund form also turned. Blaidd gave his equivalent of a smile and waved him over. Talos broke from the stream of warriors and headed towards his one-time companions.

''Well, I should've guessed you'd show up. I'd be more surprised if you didn't,'' Blaidd clapped him on the shoulder.

''It's good to see you, my friend,'' Alexander said cheerily, ''truly, an event such as this was sure to be a beacon to a contender such as you. To fight against General Radahn, the mightiest Demigod of the Shattering... why, it sets me aflutter just thinking about it.''

''It is good to see you both. Keeping well, I trust,'' Talos said.

''Well as can be, I suppose,'' Blaidd replied, ''Alexander and I went on an excursion to the city down below, looking for the city of Nokron. Lady Ranni asked we look for an artifact of interest to her, but we couldn't find a way to get there. So we came here instead.''

''Got stuck in a mine for our troubles, however,'' Alexander grumbled, ''serves us right for trying to take bloody shortcuts.'' Blaidd scoffed.

''Serves you right, you mean. I told you it was a bad idea, being so large a jar and all,'' the half-wolf said with a grin.

''Slander, I say! All you had to do was grease me up and we'd have been fine!''

''Whatever you say, mate,'' he shook his head before looking at Talos, ''I heard about your latest adventure from Lady Ranni,'' his eyes softened, ''I'd never have imagined Queen Rennala would come back to us. I don't think I've ever seen Lady Ranni so happy about... well, anything. No clue what you did, but thank you. I mean it. Makes me shudder to think what might have happened if it were someone else that found her.''

''Trust me, she'd have been fine. Even as she was, I've no doubt she would still be formidable,'' Talos said.

''Humble, eh? Well, I'm just glad it was you. I also heard from Lady Ranni what you intend to do. And the promise you made.''

''To Rennala, yes. Radahn needs to be put to rest. And I'm guessing everyone here is in agreement,'' Talos said, gesturing to the gathering of warriors around them. Surcoats of different colours and patterns, all denoting varying loyalties were gathered here. All for the same reason.

''More or less, though I doubt many of them are so noble about it,'' Blaidd said, ''you've caused ripples in the Lands Between, mate. Many of these men have no longer have a lord to fight for. No cause to give themselves to. No challenges left to face. So it's safe to say most of them just want something to throw themselves at, and get a good fight out of it.''

''Ha! Kindred spirits, them and I! Though this is merely a step on my path to strength, you see. I've no intention of dying here. Radahn or not,'' Alexander said.

''Then let's make it a fight to remember, eh? Think about it. All of us against a legend of The Shattering. The Demigod who fought Malenia and holds the stars to this day,'' Blaidd chuckled, ''can't say I fancy our chances, but it'd be one hell of a way to go, wouldn't it?''

''It would indeed, my friend. But let's keep thoughts of death at the back of out minds, shall we? After all, how can we hope to win if we're shaking in our boots?'' Alexander said.

Talos looked around again, getting a better look at the other notable individuals gathered within the courtyard.

''A strange lot,'' Talos said. Blaidd, much taller than Talos, also cast his gaze wide.

''Noticed, did you? Got some famous company here. Or infamous, depending on who you ask. Look over there,'' Blaidd pointed over toward the left of the courtyard, where a man in extremely heavy armour, with two sweeping horns creating an extra layer of defence over his torso. Resting on the ground with his hand on the pommel was a massive hammer. He was chatting with another warrior, adorned in bulbous black armour, with a broad rim surrounding his helmet. ''Over there is Tragoth. Some call him Great Horned Tragoth. You can probably see why. He's famous for being a helping hand to Tarnished. Bit of a folk hero, really.''

''And the other one?'' Talos asked.

''Oh, that's Lionel the Lionhearted. Generally well-liked and helps other Tarnished like Tragoth does,'' Blaidd then pointed to a towering figure near the back, standing like a statue wrought of bronze with a sword in one hand and a horned shield in the other, ''and them... one of Godfrey's old knights. The Knights of the Crucible. Legends, all of them. Apparently, they were chased from the capital after Godfrey was banished and all went into hiding. They're a rare sight, to be sure. Never tangled with one, but I've always been curious.''

Someone else joined them by the pyre. A woman in unassuming brown robes. A hood was over her head, and her black hair was just about visible. She looked utterly out of place amongst the swathes of men in steel and colours of allegiance. Out of everyone, who looked stoic or excited for the battle with Radahn, she looked lost. Blaidd and Alexander took notice and watched her, saying nothing.

''Greetings,'' Talos said when the silence began to become awkward. The woman barely looked at him before bowing formally. Talos didn't mince his words. ''What brings you here? You have no weapons or armour.''

''I am searching,'' she said quietly, barely audible over the din of warriors. Blaidd and Alexander exchanged a glance. Somehow. Talos was surprised at how well the two could communicate, despite the latter's lack of facial features. Maybe it was a wolf-man thing?

''Searching? You'll find naught but armed men here, I'm afraid. Unless that's what you seek,'' Talos said.

''I wish to find my Tarnished. Here at this gathering of mighty warriors, I thought I might find them,'' the woman said. It didn't take much thought to see what she was. ''When I heard that mighty warriors were gathering here, I thought I could come and offer my aid to the wounded. Perhaps I might find my Tarnished here.''

''So you're a Finger Maiden. Well, if it's a Tarnished you seek, then here is as good as anywhere to look. But why aren't you with them already?'' Talos asked. The woman looked down before speaking.

''I never met them...'' her voice quivered, ''at the place we were destined to meet, I was attacked by a man in a white mask. I managed to escape, but I was forced to flee. And now... I cannot serve my intended purpose. So here I am. Hoping to find my Tarnished so I might guide them on the path of lordship.''

''A white mask...'' Blaidd muttered, drawing the attention of the others.

''Sound familiar, my friend?'' Alexander asked.

''Yes. I know I've seen someone like that. But it was the smell. He smelled like blood. Reeked of it. He was lingering near the church Kale's holed up in, like he was waiting for someone,'' the half-wolf replied, ''I knew something was off.''

''Do you have a name?'' Talos asked.

''My name is Therolina. You are Tarnished, aren't you?''

''Indeed. I am Talos, and this is Blaidd and Alexander. They are friends of mine,'' he said, gesturing to the two. The half-wolf nodded to her while the Warrior Jar raised a hand in greeting.

''It is a pleasure,'' she said demurely, bowing once again. She cast a brief glance around. ''To be honest, I am relieved. I have never been around so many warriors, but I feel that I can be at ease a while, if you permit me to stay.''

''Don't fret about it. You'll be joining us on the field of battle. Against General Radahn, no less! You're more than welcome to stay with us if that's what you want,'' Bliadd said.

''Quite right. A fighter you are not, but you have courage in abundance to join us out there,'' Alexander added sagely. Therolina looked taken aback before smiling.

''I... thank you. You are all very kind,'' she said bashfully. Suddenly, the chatter grew quiet. Therolina inclined her head to a spot behind the three and they turned. Up above on the wall was a man in colourful clothing, rather eccentric by Talos' reckoning. Puffed sleeves and trousers, with a breastplate and a conical hood over his head, hiding his eyes. Memory suddenly flashed in Talos' mind when he caught sight of the man's beard. He bore a disturbingly uncanny resemblance to someone he once knew. All those years ago in the dust at the end of the world.

''Gael?'' he muttered without thinking.

''Eh?'' Blaidd replied, but Talos shook his head.

The man looked over the gathered warriors, appraising them silently. Then, loudly and clearly, he began to speak.

''Champions! I, Jerren, bid you welcome. For some of you, this castle is a familiar sight, but for others, those of you from far abound, Castle Redmane welcomes you. I see many surcoats. The colours and symbols of your loyalties. But for today, forget them, for we are brothers of the blade, united in this moment. In our hearts beats the blood of warriors, and gathered here, we face the greatest warrior to fight in The Shattering.''

A chorus of 'aye's went up, and fists beat against chests and shields, while the butts of spears beat against the stone floor. Jerren clapped his hands together as the noise died down.

''Ha, ha! Yes. On this day, we hold a celebration. A celebration of war. We will face the great general, and we will give him a battle worthy of him. Champions! Friends! Brothers! Today will be the day of greatest honours. You will fight a glorious fight, and many of you, as I'm sure you accept, shall die a glorious death. Fret not, for there is no shame in falling to the Red Lion, for it took his blade to kill you, despite the adversities you have faced before. Where all else failed, his blade did not. Take pride in that.''

The gathered warriors were grim as they made noises of ascent, listening intently.

''You will face a Demigod. A child of Radagon, the second Elden Lord. Within him is the power to arrest the very stars, the might to contest Malenia the Severed and drive her to desperation. A being so massive, his form eclipses the sun. He is a steel-clad mountain, with the pull of the world at his command. If this scares you, if this shatters your resolve, then leave. Feel no shame, but know that you can never return. But if you are a true champion, then go and prove your mettle to the general. Show him that the hearts of warriors yet beat strong in this broken world! Let it be heard! Today we begin the Radahn Festival!''

The courtyard erupted with the battle cries and roars of countless warriors, all bellowing their challenge to the sky. Jerren laughed and reached for his sword, a flamberge with its undulating blade, holding it aloft.

''It's finally happening,'' Alexander said with a noticeable note of nervousness in his voice. He'd been preparing for this. He'd chased challenges and hardship on his journey to peerless strength, but now that he was here, in this moment, reality slammed into him like a battering ram. He, like everyone else here, was about to go head to head with General Radahn. A Demigod. A man whose strength and prowess were the stuff of legends. How were mere mortals meant to measure up to that?

The Warrior Jar stole a glance at his friends. Blaidd was as unreadable as always, though there was a determined look in his eyes. That's something he deeply respected about the half-wolf, and he'd come to know him well in their travels. Blaidd wasn't fearless, but he was courageous and unyielding. His service to Lunar Princess Ranni had taken him all across the Lands Between, though at Blaidd's own admission, he had yet to visit the far north. The places he had to go and the things he had to face required determination and an unflinching spirit, and he had seen this first-hand when they'd journeyed below to the light-speckled land of eternal night in search of Nokron. In the coming fight, the Warrior Jar held no doubts about Blaidd whatsoever.

Then he looked at Talos. Here, he could see nothing of what the man might be thinking. Bereft of his helmet, the man looked grim, with a frown permanently creasing his brow. Alexander didn't know much about the Tarnished, but he'd seen that Talos was a fine combatant. But what was going through his head? He betrayed nothing. Was he frightened? He certainly didn't look as energised as the others among them. Perhaps he was simply focused. Either way, Alexander was sure he could trust Talos to fight hard and fight well.

Finally, there was Therolina. Just like Alexander, it seemed that the reality of the situation had sunk in for her as well. She was already pale, but somehow, her face had lost even more colour as she looked on the verge of fleeing. But she stayed, though she seemed to be fighting herself fiercely just to remain. Well, that settled it. If she could do it, then why couldn't he, Alexander the Iron Fist, do the same? He steeled himself. This was what he'd been chasing. This was where he could make sure his name was remembered. Not as a coward or as some fool chasing a hopeless dream, but as one who stood amongst many, ready to do battle with a figure immortalised in myth, whether he died this day or not.

Quickly, everyone began making for the battlefield. Redmane soldiers posted on the walls guided the warriors to a hidden tunnel that had been cut through the cliff the castle sat upon. It was an old tunnel built to ferry food and materials to the castle proper, tall enough and wide enough to accommodate the knights and their mounts, as well as the bulky armour many of the other warriors wore.

Talos and Blaidd walked ahead of Alexander and Therolina, both nonplussed by the press of bodies around them, and more than happy to shove when they needed space. The half-wolf growled low when he was pushed from behind, the sound a seismic rumble in the confines of the tunnel. Next to him, somebody slowed down and Talos shoved them stumbling forward, barking an order to move like a battlefield commander of old.

Alexander hung back, his bulk taking up a decent portion of space, but he also did it out of concern. He kept Therolina ahead of him, not wanting her lost in the forest of fighters. Most of them dwarfed her, these behemoths of men, and would most likely think nothing of it should she fall. Alexander wouldn't allow that.

Most moved in silence. There was nothing to say that hadn't already been said. These would be the last moments of uninterrupted calm before the storm. It was important to centre one's self, to steel the heart. Slaughter was coming. They all knew it. But nobody gave voice to that fact. As before, there was no fear. There would be slaughter, yes, but it was in the form of glorious carnage. Worthy deaths for all. To them, Jerren had been right. There would be no shame in being slain by Radahn. It was an honour to battle him. An honour to fall to his blade. What man-at-arms could ask for anything more? They all knew him, and there was a primal rush in their hearts that boiled their blood in anticipation.

They began the exit the tunnel, spreading out on the beach below the castle. Water lapped at the shore, and in the distance, the wrecks of ships jutted from the water, torn apart by rocks from below. Who knew what war they'd been a part of? A beach invasion during The Shattering wars, perhaps? Had Malenia and her knights taken to the sea in hopes of surrounding Castle Redmane? Only those who'd been there would know, and most were now nothing but dust and faded memory.

Across the way, separated by a shallow pool of seawater, lay the Wailing Dunes. It was a vast expanse of rust-red sand, where weapons and ancient battle standards lanced from the ground like grave markers. The air smelled like salt and iron, as the blood of heroes had been drunk by the land aeons ago. The thin strip of water before them was a border. This was the last chance for anyone to turn back, for once they stepped foot over the threshold, that was it. They were committed to the fight of their lives.

For several minutes, they waited. More of them poured from the tunnel, boots and hooves crunching in the sand. Not all of them would fit, and with a cry of ''Hold!'' from a Cuckoo Knight Captain, the procession stopped. Talos and Blaidd, along with Alexander, Therolina, Tragoth, Lionel and the lone Crucible Knight were among the front line. Further down the line, Talos spied another warrior, one he'd failed to notice before. He was dressed in exotic white armour, with a strange mask with an exaggerated nose. However, he knew a katana hilt when he saw one. He'd wielded them before, and to great effect.

At one time, when he'd slipped between worlds, he briefly encountered a swordswoman who wielded such weapons. Talos had found the woman on a reedy hill of during a summer storm as rain and lightning lashed from the sky. The woman's techniques were wondrous to behold, flowing like water, quick as the wind. Lightning cracked the sky, striking at the swordswoman, but beyond anything Talos dared to believe, she caught the lighting on her blade and sent it back skyward. Talos had been amazed at what he'd seen and approached the swordswoman. Being a god, language was no issue, and he spoke to her.

Bemused that a foreigner had come to her homeland, she was interested in his words. He offered one of his many prized blades in exchange for her technique. She refused, instead stating that she would not hand a technique to someone unproven and requested a duel.

The duel lasted for three days. Every blow, slash and thrust, every jump, evasion and deflection was a lesson, and Talos devoured them all greedily. Never before had he fought such a foe, her every move like a dance that, had he not been fighting her, would have left him entranced. Initially, he'd felt slow and clumsy compared to her, his own technique unrefined. But in that three days, his skill with the katana evolved rapidly.

Then the lightning came. On the second day, the swordswoman unleashed her full might. The sky darkened, the wind howled and the rain hammered down. Fulmination cracked against Talos' blade, and those strikes he couldn't catch, he evaded. The woman's body crackled with voltaic fury, and each movement was met with a coruscating light that was blinding to behold. But even then, time provided Talos what he needed. By the end of the second day, he was catching her lightning and sending it back in an exchange like a child's game. And by the start of the third, he was creating the lightning himself.

He hadn't had a teacher like that since he was but a boy. The duel ended in a draw, and the swordswoman laughed as she wondered just who the gods of her land had sent to her. They shared a drink and exchanged names, but Talos knew this was only a short stop on the cosmic odyssey he'd been thrust upon. He said his goodbyes and left her and that unknown world behind the same night

Talos had always wondered what became of Tomoe, and it saddened him that he would never know.

''Ready, Talos?'' Blaidd's voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he was suddenly surrounded by countless warriors on the red sands once again.

''Always,'' Talos smirked, ''sounding a little nervous there, Blaidd.''

''Honestly, mate? I'm terrified,'' he surprised Talos at that admission, ''but, no going back now. Either he dies or we do. Simple as that.''

Meanwhile, Therolina gazed out, her mind conjuring all kinds of horrors they might face. She nearly jumped when she felt a large four-fingered hand come to rest on her shoulder. She looked back, seeing Alexander.

''My apologies, but you were shaking. You are scared,'' the Warrior Jar said. Therolina nodded, words impossible to form with how dry her mouth had become. ''Well, you're far from the only one. But worry not. Stay close and I, Alexander of the Iron Fist shall see you through this day. You have my word,'' he said, but the quiver in his voice just barely managed to break through his bravado. Rather than speak, the Finger Maiden offered another nod.

Suddenly, the deep howl of a war horn far above echoed across the plain, a wordless signal to advance. Then another sounded, and another, and then another, harmonizing into booming drone. The lower-ranked footmen amongst the knights and soldiers blew into bugles, mirroring the call. The advance began, men and horses moving in a tide across the shallow divide, splashing as they went. Talos was the first to set foot onto the bloody sands of the Wailing Dunes, and in an instant, everything felt different. He wasn't the only one who noticed either.

Men shifted uncomfortably and horses whinnied. The air was dry and gritty. The sand itself reeked of iron. Everything felt heavier, warped somehow. Particles of dust and sand drifted on the parched breeze, but curiously, some hung suspended in the air, while others moved faster or slower. There were patches of ground where the sand flowed up in small geysers, moving at a glacial pace. It only grew stranger as they pressed deeper into the dunes. They passed the assortments of weapons and standards that had been stuck into the sand. Ancient banners and flags had been stripped of their filigree, bleached by age and eroded by the harsh sand winds.

Further and further they went. Now, other weapons and banner poles were floating on invisible currents, languidly hanging in stasis. One of the mounted knights prodded one, a massive, rust-caked cleaver, and it gently spun away only to clatter against another blade, where both began a new journey across the dunes.

'What is all this?' Talos wondered as he looked around.

'Radahn is a powerful user of gravity sorceries. Even to this day, none hath become as accomplished as he in the craft. The Rot hath eaten away at his mind, yet deep within him, I knowest his spirit must endure,' Marika said.

'But the Rot ravaging him for as long as it has is making his power volatile. The mind is the control mechanism for all sorcery. But the fact he can maintain any amount of control is astounding,' Talos looked around at the warped surroundings, 'not only is he holding the stars, but his power is so great it's disturbing the world around him.'

'He was always a contender for the mightiest Demigod. Radagon's blood beats through his veins, while his mother's sorcerous might is his to wield. Those coupled with his admiration of Godfrey, his drive to emulate the Lord of the Battlefield helped him soar to heights most could only dream of,' Marika was quiet for a moment, 'what shalt thou do, Talos?'

'What would you have me do?' he replied.

'I know what thou'rt thinking. Thou wishest to draw this out,' Marika said.

'Correct, I do. Do you know why?'

'Thy heart is that of a soldier. As it hath been, and likely forever more. The men here, though thou hast slain them in droves, thy kinship with them is evident. And the same extends to Radahn, no?'

Talos smirked. 'It seems like you really are starting to understand me. These men once fought for people higher than themselves, for causes they likely did not understand in the grand scheme of things. But they are men of blood and sinew, their weapons and armour are their pride. And before them stands the epitome of what it means to be a warrior. They haven't merely come here to fight. They have come here to honour the Demigod every soldier aspires to be like. They will either end his suffering or be slain themselves, but either outcome is more than any of them could have asked for. I will not take this fight from them, Marika. That would be heartless, both to them and Radahn.'

'It is always so strange, Talos. Thou findeth the strangest moments to show thy kindness,' Marika said with some amusement, 'very well. I shan't dispute thy ways. But do not forget that we art here for a reason. Put Radahn to rest and claimest his Great Rune. The world is still to mend, and while callous it may sound, this is but an obstacle we must overcome. Do not linger more than thou must.'

Then they saw him. A massive figure that crested a hill in the distance. The advance that had seemed unceasing came to a sudden stop as they took in the sight, overcome by awe and just a moment's hesitation. He was right there for all to see. General Radahn. The Red Lion. The Starscourge. His hulking silhouette was ruddy brown in the orange-tinged haze. Massive arrows and spears were like spines, jutting from his back. It was Blaidd who stepped forward first, then Talos, and then everyone began moving forward.

Closer and closer, the Demigod on the hill got larger. His bronze armour was like burnt copper in the dim light. Like the beast he took his namesake from, his mane of red hair waved on the arid breeze. Radahn was hunched over, much too distracted by something else to pay the approaching army any mind. Once again, a warhorn echoed across the dunes, and the Red Lion suddenly stopped what he was doing. He looked up, and in his mouth was the limbless torso of a long-dead armoured knight. Black eyes, reddened with Scarlet Rot glared at them with bestial hostility, like a predator finding another in its territory.

The army kept advancing, now having alerted Radahn to their presence. Here it was. The final moment. A few more steps until the signal to charge would come. They could all feel it now. Getting so close, even at the several dozen meters they stood at, they felt forces pushing them from all sides as if trying to crush them. But that wouldn't stop them, these men who sought glorious battle and even more glorious deaths.

General Radhan straightened from his gargoyle hunch, still with the corpse in his mouth. He growled, rumbling like thunder as the weathered and rent cuirass of the corpse collapsed inward under the sudden bite of the fallen Demigod, spraying gore down himself and on the sand. He flung the ruined body away with a turn of his head before roaring. Everyone felt the roar in their bones as it rippled through the ranks, forcing many to take a step back.

A fresh wave of notes from bugles and warhorns echoed out, almost in reply to the great general's roar. The order to attack had come.

Radahn reached for his back, pulling his mighty greatbow into his hands. Massive arrows, taller than any of the warriors amassed against him, were nocked into place in a bushel of towering lances. He aimed skyward, pulling back on a string as thick as a man's torso, too taut and anchored into wood too thick to be pulled by any mortal creature, and fired.

''Shield wall! Brace!'' someone called out, and tower shields overlapped over the heads of the army. A shadow crawled across the sand as a whisper became a roar. The arrows rained down, barely halted by some sections of the phalanx, while others caved instantly, the men beneath skewered, ripped apart and driven into the sand. The sound was deafening. Armour clattered while shields split or barely held as the percussive thumps of enormous arrows battered the formation from above. Men grunted and cried out against the pressure of the assault as injuries quickly mounted from holding back the iron-tipped rain.

Talos braced his hands against another man's shield above his head. He felt each impact jolt him, but he held. A flash of purple caught his eye, and a mere instant later, his entire right side was doused in blood as the man next to him exploded. As did the man behind him, and so on and so on. An entire column wiped out.

The cavalry charged, the horses trailing plumes of dust as they went. Lances angled forward, while Cuckoo Knights weaved their spells. Bolts and arrows flew free from the back of the formation, streaking towards Radahn. The general didn't try to avoid them. The space around him warped and changed, and the projectiles that sought to bury themselves in his flesh came to a halt meters before impact, then slammed down to the ground. Yet despite that, more came, all fired in the hope of striking him.

More men exploded, their bodies reduced to pulped meat, broken armour and stained rags. The arrows tipped with gravity sorcery flew faster than any could avoid. They struck with such force that no armour could halt them, and flesh was like air. Radahn's bow was a siege weapon, and each arrow could destroy the walls of the mightiest fortress.

''We need to close the gap. This will be over quickly if we don't,'' Talos growled as he felt blood, sticky and warm, drip from his face.

''Cavalry's moving in already. We need to go now,'' Blaidd replied as he held up a dead man's shield. Talos spied a fallen bugle in the sand. He snatched it up, brushed the end free of dust and blood, then blew into it. Within seconds, the shield wall began to move. Then Talos blew again, giving the signal for a rapid advance.

Meanwhile, the mounted knights ran in circles about Radahn. The general watched them, a snarl on his lips. He'd stopped firing his bow, instead letting it drop to the ground. He held his hands out and purple light pulsed around them. The twin curving greatswords on his back shuddered for a moment, then shot from their holdings and into his enormous, waiting hands.

At such close range, the knights could see that Radahn himself was mounted on a steed. It was a sickly thing, all skin and bones, yet it managed to hold this titan on its back. No, not quite. One of the Cuckoo Knights saw what the others didn't. Radahn wasn't quite sitting on the horse's back, but was hovering ever so slightly above it, just about making contact with the saddle. Radahn, as a result of the Rot ravaging him, had lost his feet. That much was clear. So if they killed the horse, the general would fall.

The knight's head left his shoulders mere moments after that thought, his body tumbling from his mount as the steed's own head flew from its neck. Volleys of bolts and arrows came unceasing from the rear lines, but Radahn's attention was split between them and the knights. His great blades came up, swiping the projectiles from the air, then descended, crashing down on a knight and his horse. Lances speared up into the meat of his arms, bringing dark sludge trickling from his fresh wounds. Getting the spears to penetrate his skin had been difficult, but his muscles seemed to suck the steel in, making them impossible to withdraw.

The scrawny horse turned quickly, whipping Radahn around. The speed of the turn carried a knight off the back of his horse as he held onto his lance. The general was quick. Too quick. As soon as the man was mid-air, a colossal blade bisected him. Then Radahn charged, a great cloud of dust and sand billowing behind him as if he were a storm's wrath made manifest.

He crashed into the encircling ranks of knights, sending riders and mounts flying as his blades did their work. Steel caved and split. Flesh carved apart, sending gore like warm rain down on those below. Even his magic, wild with his waning control, crushed unfortunate souls into the sand, their bodies melded with their mounts, forming flat masses of bleeding meat and mangled steel. He fought like an animal. A beast possessed. He swung his blades, hacking the legs off horses. As riders fell, he caught one in his teeth and crunched down, slaking his ravenous thirst. But only slightly. He needed more. More, more, more! There was nothing else in the corrupted, roiling soup of his mind, only the instinctual directives to kill and consume. Everything was red, his animal brain processed nothing but wrath, hunger and pain.

The sound of hundreds of advancing fighting men grew louder in Radahn's ears. He hacked and cleaved, ripping scores of knights apart even as magic and arrows bombarded him. It was of little consequence. His armour could take it. A mighty bellow erupted from his throat, an inhuman sound that, at so close to him, made some men cover their ears as they rushed him. The ground rumbled and the shifting sands began to rise slowly, subject to the Demigod's tremendous power.

''On your guard!'' someone called out further down the line. But then that section of the formation was gone. Washed away by the unstoppable tide that was General Radahn. He rode into them, his close proximity crushing the first few with his unstable gravity magic, while his massive cleaving blades reaped men like wheat before a scythe. The Demigod slammed his colossal weapons together, then scraped steel against steel, sending sparks flying. Violet, voltaic tendrils crackled up each blade, the space around them blurring as details shifted. The blades slammed down, buried almost to the hilt in the sand. The ground rumbled, making the men around him stumble and lose their footing. Radahn sliced up, and following the blades were two massive mounds of rock that exploded to the surface. Over thirty armoured men were thrown into the air, their bodies smashed by the tectonic forces Radahn had unleashed against them.

''We're being slaughtered...'' Therolina whispered, her eyes wide and fear sweat shining on her face. Who could she save here? Anyone? No one? She saw men thrown up, limbs missing and fountaining blood. The screams were brief, if they had the chance to scream. Without realising it, she'd pressed closer to Alexander. On the inside of his outer shell, she could hear something pulsing. Faster and faster each second. Was he as frightened as her? She felt some relief, as now she wasn't alone in her fear.

''Steady now, dear girl. We'll get through this yet,'' the Warrior Jar said, though he sounded even less sure than she felt.

''How? How can we beat that?'' she questioned shakily. She saw Blaidd leap onto the Demigod's side, his blade up and poised to plunge into Radahn's armpit. A savage shake knocked the half-wolf off. He rolled back, but only just raised his sword in time to catch one of the general's blades on the backswing. The impact sent him sprawling, and he lay clutching his arm. This was her chance. Her chance to be of use. She had no weapons or offensive magic to speak of, but this warrior needed her help. She ran towards Blaidd, ignoring Alexander as he called her name.

''You're hurt!'' she called as she knelt next to the downed half-wolf.

''Lucky, I'd say,'' he hissed. She looked at his right arm, seeing the elbow bent at an unnatural angle. ''Could be worse,'' the the comment was made feeble by his strained voice.

In the thick of the fray, Tragoth and Lionel fought together. Each opening in Radahn's guard was a gamble, and it was by sheer luck that any attacks could get through. The space around the Demigod rippled and pulsed, crushing the sand into glass and any unlucky warrior caught by his unpredictable gravity magic. But the two knights were seasoned and intelligent. They could see the openings, time their strikes. However, each attempt came with the risk of sudden death. Tragoth's massive hammer crashed into the side of Radahn's shin, leaving a dent in the battered armour. Lionel yanked him back as a massive onyx blade swept the space Tragoth had stood only a moment before.

''Steady on, friend. Almost had you that time,'' Lionel said in rather high spirits.

''Cheers, pal!'' came Tragoth's thickly accented reply. They both looked up as a shadow passed overhead, followed by golden light.

A large figure in armour like burnt copper shot towards Radahn over the heads of the army, phantasmal wings burning with primeval power. Sword raised, they slammed into the general, the blade sliding through armour like paper and into the tough meat beneath.

''A Knight of the Crucible. In all my years...'' Tragoth spoke in amazement. The Crucible Knight pushed away with blood flying from their blade, then swooped in again, belching fire from another magical construct, similar to their wings. The flames clung to Radahn's back, his scarlet locks becoming singed while the spears and arrows wedged into his armour burned. He became like a primitive heretic idol, a burning god of war as the flames rising from him grew.

The general reached back, then threw the massive blade in his left hand into the mass of soldiers. The weapon spun like a top, making laughably short work of an entire section of men as they were hacked apart. The Crucible Knight came in for another attack run. Seeing this, Radahn threw a hand out and his bow lifted from the ground and quickly slapped into his waiting hand. Still with some mind for strategy despite the degradation of his mind, he threw the other blade at the flying Crucible Knight. They evaded it, but the turbulence made their flight unsteady. But that moment was enough. By the time they'd righted themselves, Radahn already had an arrow nocked and the string pulled taut.

With a percussive thwack as loud as a cannon shot, he loosed the arrow. There was no time to evade, and the arrow coursed with gravity sorcery, so it sought its target like a bird of prey. Rapidly and precisely. It was all the ancient warrior could do but to grip their shield a mere moment before the arrow struck and face it head-on. With the sound of a tolling bell, the arrow met the horned shield. The Crucible Knight was blasted back with such force, they were spinning end-over-end, crashing to the ground some distance away where they tumbled and rolled, creating plumes of dust before sliding to a stop on their back. Where their helmet went, nobody knew.

Radahn bellowed, his voice rumbling out like a thunderstorm as he willed his black blades to return to him. He attacked harder and faster in a blood-curdling display of savagery, sending blood and broken bodies out into the ranks before advancing on them to spread the slaughter. Yet the men kept their resolve, having resigned themselves to this. Come what may, none expected to survive. It was an honour no matter how this ended. Whatever battle frenzy had swallowed Radahn, a similar shroud of madness had overtaken the army arrayed against him. The fear of death had been eliminated. Glory was all anyone wanted, whether in victory or death. Yet few kept themselves grounded.

Talos hung back, a singular spot of calm in the storm of blood. This wasn't his time to fight. Not yet. In his hands was a katana, sheathed with the bottom end resting on the sand, both hands resting on the pommel. He let the carnage play out as he bided his time.

''I see you, too, wait for the rabble to die,'' a voice hissed from beside him. He cast his gaze aside and saw the exotic swordsman with the strange mask standing there.

''And you?'' Talos asked. The man scoffed.

''I speak with you rather than fight. Should that not tell you? There is no honour to be found here. Glory, perhaps, but this is merely a swarm of ants picking at a beast greater than themselves. Let them die, I say, so that warriors may do battle,'' he said, his voice cold and measured. Talos could smell the blood on this man, like he bathed in it. This man held little regard for honour, but sought the thrill of crossing blades with Radahn by himself. That was the honour he sought. It wasn't a matter of fairness, but bragging rights.

The masked man spied Talos' sword, examining it. It was fairly plain, with a black sheath and minimal decoration, like the kind of sword a warrior of no renown would use back in his homeland. Blades like that were common in the Land of Reeds, but he hadn't seen any in the Lands Between. It made him curious. Explorers from his home had ventured out before, so had they landed here and traded or simply died only to have their remains picked over?

''That blade. That Uchigatana. Where did you get it?'' the masked man asked.

''Long ago, I defeated a master swordsman. He didn't need it anymore,'' Talos said. Indeed, that had been among the first things he'd done upon returning to Lordran. Who the man was, he didn't know, and it had been so long that he found he didn't care. What the sword master started, Talos finished, and that was it. The masked man chuckled.

''I appreciate your candour, friend. And your way of doing things. Yes, I believe I'd have done the same. What need have the dead for weapons? Especially when they were so weak when they had them. Do you know how to use it?''

''Care to find out?'' Talos's question held no heat, but the way his fingers flexed on the hilt were warning enough.

''I do. But I believe this is neither the time nor place,'' the man's hand came to rest on one of his own weapons, his expression clear even behind his mask. He was amused. ''My name is Okina. You would do well to remember that, friend. My blade is sharp and seeking, and it may be you that it finds one day.''

''Your breath is wasted on threats, Okina. Look ahead,'' Talos pointed towards the massacre with a Demigod at its heart, ''before you is an army of men uncaring and unafraid of death. Their foe is a mountain born from legend, whose feats are hammered into the annals of history. What are you compared to that? You are little more than a bandit. A murderous opportunist. Beneath their notice, and certainly beneath mine. You reek of innocent blood. I'd have your head from your shoulders before you'd even drawn your blade, but I am in no mind to dirty it yet. Now begone. I've no time nor words for you.''

''I see. You call me a bandit, yet you just admitted to taking a dead man's sword. Perhaps you are not so unlike me. After all, I am not the only one who bears the iron scent of blood, Talos,'' Okina said. Talos scowled.

''Is knowing my name supposed to frighten me?'' Talos laughed dryly, ''Okina, when all is said and done, all will know my name. Whoever you serve, whichever master it is that hides in the dark, they will know it before I send them screaming into the abyss,'' the blade was drawn and at Okina's throat before his hands could grasp the hilts of his swords, ''keep talking and you will be there to greet them.''

''Oh-ho,' the edge of Talos' sword gently pressed into the skin of Okina's neck, but it was enough to start a thin trickle of blood.

''Be silent. If you must wait your turn, then do so away from me.'' Okina backed away, taking his hands away from his weapons. He turned but spoke before he left Talos.

''I eagerly await the day I spill your blood. For Lord Mohg and his dynasty.'' Okina walked away with a chuckle in his throat.

'Mohg. He said Mohg,' Marika said.

'Is that important?'

'Talos, I... Mohg is... one of my sons,' her voice came out strained, as though she were fighting with herself to speak.

'I see. And he stands in my way. I can see how this troubles you.'

'It hath been a lifetime since I'd heard anything of him. Though, t'would be a lie to sayeth I am not blame for that,' Marika's sadness was palpable now, while guilt was a leaden weight across his shoulders.

'Marika, what are you talking abou-'

''Talos!'' it was Blaidd. He roughly grabbed Talos' shoulder and shook him, ''what the hell are you doing over here!?

''Blaidd?'' he said distractedly. He also felt a tinge of irritation. He was close to getting an answer about something important before being interrupted. He took a breath and quashed it. ''What is it?''

The half-wolf growled. '''What is it?' he says. We're being massacred, Talos! What are you doing?''

Talos roughly knocked Blaidd's hand from his shoulder. A winced crossed his wolfish face, surprised at the force behind it. ''I agreed to fight General Radahn. I never said I would be a part of the mob. These men came here of their own accord. They knew what waited for them. It is neither my place nor my intention to help them. When they lie butchered in the sand and the field is clear, then I shall fight. They chose this, Blaidd. Did you?'' his words were harsh, but the heady scent of blood was nipping at parts of his mind that demanded more of it. It had been the case since he first stepped into the Wailing Dunes, but as the death toll rose, so did his own blood need.

''Did I choose this? I'm only here for Lady Ranni's sake,'' the half-wolf said.

''Then do not concern yourself with them. Their reasons are simple, completely different to ours. Therolina is here to help the wounded, while Alexander is here for his own reasons. I will ensure their lives, friend,'' he gestured to the embattled soldiers, ''but what need have we to die with them? Let them have their glory. Victory is ours to take. Not theirs.''

Blaidd huffed. ''Never took you for the ruthless sort,'' he said.

''I am what I need to be, Blaidd. But in this instance, I am not ruthless. I never led these men here. I am neither their general nor their leader. Their own whims brought them here, so it's not as if they're my sacrificial pawns. This death is of their own choosing. I would not take that from them, just as I will not help them. If anything, Blaidd, they're in my way, and remain so because I allow it.''

''What are you talking about? Are you saying that, if you wanted, you could just get rid of them?'' Blaidd's eyes narrowed.

''That is what I'm saying, yes. And I would, were I a more callous man. For me, this is an obstacle. A task to be completed and a promise to fulfil. Nothing more, nothing less. But for them, this is a celebration. An occasion to make merry with the warrior to exemplify all warriors, save Godfrey himself, if I've heard correctly. To deprive them of their revelry would be cruel. To snatch away their desired deaths would be crueller still. Only a god acts so brazenly in the face of man's will.''

''Yet here you talk as if you are a god. You really think you could take that many?'' Blaidd asked, suddenly growing uneasy with what Talos was saying.

''What's to say I haven't already? Or perhaps you require proof. Would you force me to provide it? I don't require your answer. You will see just how capable I am when the last of them lies dead and satisfied. Feel free to join me if you wish, but I ask you keep some distance from me. What I intend to do, well, I cannot control where it goes completely.''

''You needn't waste time on me, girl. I'll be up and fighting again in a moment. Just you wait,'' Lionel said through gritted teeth. He tried to laugh, but it only sent spikes of pain through his chest as shards of his shattered ribs ground together inside of his wound. Blood wept from the great gash in his side. It had been a glancing blow from the mighty Demigod, but such a thing would have made a castle wall shudder. He could scarcely believe he was still alive.

''Please keep still, sir knight. If I cannot heal you, you will bleed to death,'' Therolina said, her brow creased in concentration as golden light emanated from her hands. This was all she could do to keep her from running away. Every instinct she had was screaming at her. The smell of blood was cloying, the sounds of death had become a din that, to her horror, she had acclimated to. What did she think she was doing, coming to this place? The picture she had in her mind was nothing like the reality of carnage that she immersed herself in. What she had imagined was lost to her, but it wasn't this. It was clear to her that her goal was little more than a fool's errand. Her Tarnished wasn't here. They'd never been here. For all she knew, her Tarnished was already dead or given up. It was a cruel possibility for many Finger Maidens, one that they all had to face upon being ordained.

A scream took her attention, and overhead, a body flew past her and Lionel, blood gushing from a deathblow. The body landed close by. The man's front was a mass of red ruin. Therolina shook her head, eyes wide and unblinking.

''This is madness,'' she said, her voice choked to a near sob, ''why is this happening?'' she felt a hand come to rest on her forearm.

''Because it must. And because it's what we're here for,'' Lionel said, ''I know you are scared, girl, but amongst us brutes, clad in armour and armed to the teeth, you are here to ease pain where you can. You are brave. Braver than I. Braver than most, I'd wager,'' the wounded knight said warmly.

''I... I do not understand,'' Therolina replied with a shake of her head.

''Perhaps you do not. That is fine. But do you see any other healers here? Do you see any fair maidens like yourself? I very much doubt you do,'' he chuckled, then hissed in pain, ''I can see you are terrified. Because you are not like us. We who seek purpose, even if it is to die better than we might have before. I myself came to bring honour to the great general, to send him off with a last 'hurrah', as it were. It is not death I seek, unlike many of these fellows, whose purpose was simply lost to time or cruelly taken from them. Their journeys ended long ago. They will be born again some day, while you seek to begin your life in earnest. I tell you now, girl; you are not fated to die here with us.''

''How can you possibly know that? How can I survive against a Demigod when so many others stronger than I die in droves?'' He must have been delirious. Perhaps the blood loss was worse than she thought.

''I overheard your friend, the Warrior Jar that accompanied you. He said he'd protect you. And I reckon there are others that would, too. We are killers. All of us, no matter how noble or high-minded our causes. But I believe that even killers have a spark of goodness in them. And when a killer has something to protect, he'll fight that much harder.''

She looked away and into the melee. Alexander wasn't hard to spot as he slammed his stony fists into Radahn. He hopped away from a wide swing, knocking others to safety as he did. But still, the death toll was mounting and the herd was thinning. Now only a few dozen men remained when there'd been hundreds before. The dead were hardly recognisable now, so catastrophic was the damage done to them by Radahn's berserk ire. How could they keep fighting? Those they fought with were little more than butchered meat on the sands, so how could they possibly expect to win? All this talk of glorious death, gladly dying in such brutal fashion, none of it made sense.

But then, how could it make sense to her? She was a Finger Maiden, a guide for a fated Tarnished, while they had lived their lives as warriors. Their language was that of the sword, their currency was blood, their bonds were as brothers-in-arms. They lived in a different world to her, so perhaps it was something she could never understand because she simply wasn't meant to.

How out of place she felt in that moment. She finished up healing Lionel's wounds and helped him to his feet.

''I will search for others. Should you need me again, I will do my utmost to find you,'' Therolina said with a clarity she hadn't possessed before. Lionel chuckled heartily.

''That's what I like to see. You will survive. I guarantee-'' he was cut off a warning shout startled them both, followed by a deafening bellow. A shadow stretched over Finger Maiden and knight alike as Radahn's colossal form bore down on them, shivering with rage, an avatar of pain. The blades descended. Therolina, frozen in that moment, could see every detail, every nick, crack and roll in the blades' edges. Then she saw nothing.

Therolina moved her fingers. She was still alive, but she had been rendered blind by something. She didn't know how long she'd been sprawled in the sand, but from within her prison of blindness, she could hear the thunderstorm motions of General Radahn as his attention was diverted elsewhere. Her body ached, and there was the press of something cold against her cheek. Moving, she regained her sight and saw a rusty storm of sand passing around her.

She looked at what had saved her from the rampaging Demigod. It was a large Warrior Jar. With his innards spilling from his side.

Talos waited. The torrid clouds Radahn left in his wake were getting closer, swallowing the Wailing Dunes whole. Purple light crackled and flashed within Radahn's wake as he shook the earth with his mere presence. The fire of the Crucible Knight had left his back a charred ruin, while flame still smouldered within his red locks. Talos and few others were all that remained. Blaidd, Tragoth, Lionel, the Crucible Knight and Okina stood with their weapons drawn, while Talos still had his sheathed.

''Now that the chaff is out of the way, we can end this,'' Okina intoned. In one hand he held a crimson blade. It looked malformed, like a rough-hewn hunk of red ice. An invisible haze of murder clung to the blade, radiating from it like a malevolent miasma. Everyone could feel the evil, unnatural aura polluting the area around it. What the other hand held wasn't a sword as Talos first thought, but a small sidearm. A dagger, a miniature copy of his own weapon.

''You speak so easily of the fallen. Yet where were you?'' Tragoth spat, the grip on his hammer tightening. His armour was beaten and cracked, and the great horns that curved about his chest were scored with a deep cut. Had it not been for those horns, he'd have counted among the dead.

''Biding my time for the real fight, of course. And now that it's coming straight for us, I'd suggest you shut your mouth and get ready to swing your hammer. Only one of those things is useful,'' the masked man bit back.

Talos addressed the half-wolf. ''Blaidd. Where is Alexander?''

''I don't know, I'm afraid. Haven't seen him or the Finger Maiden in a while. I hope they're alright, but I'm prepared for the worst,'' he replied, clearly worried for his friend and the young woman. He'd lost sight of them some time ago.

''They're somewhere behind Radahn,'' Lionel spoke, gaining their attention, ''Alexander, that's the Warrior Jar, yes? He got between the general and her, but I couldn't see what happened before the Crucible Knight swooped in and carried me off.''

Standing resolute and bereft of a helmet, the Crucible Knight stood, eyes the colour of the setting sun narrowed at the advancing Demigod. Her chin-length hair was so pale it was almost silver, while her skin was like milk, having been hidden from sunlight for untold years. Blood sheeted down the right half of her face, while a prominent scar ran from her chin, across her lips and to left cheek. An ancient and intricate mark of unknown origin or meaning was stained into the skin of her forehead.

''He comes,'' she said, her voice deep and resonant. Her sword came up, as did her grievously dented shield.

Like an avalanche of steel and fury, Radahn came with his blades already in motion. Lionel and Tragoth jumped back, narrowly avoiding being carved apart as they tumbled to the ground. Blaidd and the Crucible Knight rushed forward, the latter spreading her etheric wings while the half-wolf jumped and twisted his body over a horizontal slash, displaying agility that belied his size. Crescents of frost slashed from Blaidd's greatsword, impacting upon Radahn's chest, but the Demigod advanced as if nothing had hit him.

The Crucible Knight banked sharply, and soared up, where she hung above Radahn before diving right for him. Her sword was angled towards the small gap between the back of his helmet and his neck, hoping to deliver a singular, decisive strike. But despite the Rot feasting on the Red Lion's mind, his instincts were iron-clad. A massive blade suddenly blocked the Crucible Knight's target, and her sword clanged against it, but her speed was so great that her body followed until she crashed flat against the weapon. Radahn flicked his arm out, flinging her away as if swatting a fly, and she was sent hurtling off to the side.

''What can we do, friend?'' Lionel asked, giving Tragoth a searching look. After a moment, the Great Horned One answered.

''I be thinkin' there's nothin' we can do. Really, our part in this fight is over. The great general's hide is too thick, an' his magic makes scrappin' a life or death gamble. We're jus' nae equipped for this,'' he said, his tone a mix of anger and resignation, ''the bes' we can do is hope one o' the others has somethin' we don't.''

As this happened, Okina walked at a steady pace towards the Demigod. Radahn snarled and brought both blades to bear as he sought to utterly destroy the masked swordsman. They crashed down, sending up a massive plume of dust. But what he met wasn't the soft and easy passing of steel through flesh. He felt nothing. Just the solid jolt of the ground.

Blood exploded from identical gashes on both arms. Pressurised slop, writhing with the Rot, burst onto the sand. What happened? What had cut him? Where was it so he could crush it? His mind, reduced to its basest functions, raced with questions in its own degraded, primitive way. Knifing pain then bloomed within his right thigh, then something within him ripped sideways and out. His frail horse made a noise of alarm and backed away of its own volition, and then Radahn saw it.

''You are a dull creature, aren't you?'' came the smooth, callous voice of Okina. The Red Lion's vision became a fog of crimson, his blood boiling as fury overrode everything. He unleashed his mightiest war cry yet, his monstrous voice emitted like a physical force that battered all nearby combatants. His blades clashed together and jagged spikes of rock shot from the ground and bound themselves to the colossal weapons. Okina backed away, weapons at the ready. He'd drawn Radahns blood and he was hungry for more.

What the others had seen was something they found hard to explain. Though Talos had seen a similar thing before. Somehow, Okina had used blood as a weapon. He'd extended his weapon's reach at least three-fold, thus bypassing the need to chance the pockets of crushing gravity that surrounded the Demigod. Maria had used such a method against Talos during their battle within the Astral Clocktower. And admittedly, she had used it to devastating effect. Okina would stand to learn a thing or two from her.

''I think now is the time,'' Talos said suddenly. From some distance away, Blaidd looked at him.

''Time for what? To get involved? Took your sweet time,'' he snarked. Though as Talos drew his rather plain-looking blade, the half-wolf's keen senses made him aware of the changes immediately. The air took on a different character. It smelled like the early coming of a storm, the brief period when birds stop chirping and the wind goes still. The arid breeze changed direction, then again and again. It was cold, then warm, then a curious mix of both as currents coalesced. The sky darkened, and one look at the distant ocean revealed that the previous stillness of the water had been disturbed.

Radahn's wrathful eyes focused on the source of the disturbance. His muscles bunched and black veins like tree roots bulged from his afflicted skin. Another challenger. Another meal. This tiny thing had been hiding this whole time. His scrawny horse edged forward as the others backed away from the Conqueror of the Stars as if his very shadow would consume them.

''The last of the celebrants lies dead. The festival is over. I can finally do what I came here to do,'' thunder rumbled in the distance, and somewhere on the horizon, a flash of lightning forked like a serpent's tongue, ''come... Demigod.''

And he did. General Radahn spurred his steed to leap, his gravity magic propelling rider and mouth further than they had any reasonable right. Massive, scything blades arced down, ensuring the puny creature's death, only to send shocks up the Demigod's arms as his swords rebounded with the staccato ringing of steel against steel. Before he could even register his surprise, a flash blinded him as thunder clapped, and burning pain rushed hotly across his right forearm. Tarnished and Demigod exchanged blows. Talos parried each massive attack. Strikes that could end dragons continued to rain down, but still none of was enough to break the Tarnished's guard.

Lightning burst around Talos, and from where he'd first stood, he was suddenly right beside the Starscourge. But the great general was fast, and he'd recovered quickly. Instead of slashing, he punched out towards the Tarnished. Flesh impacted steel, sending Talos backward and his feet dug into the ground. More strikes came his way, the full weight and strength of a colossus behind them, but each was deflected with his Titanite-enhanced blade. Talos slashed out as fulminated tendrils buzzed and popped along his blade, and with a deafening boom, lightning arced from the sword and cut a burning gash across Radahn's breastplate. Blood sizzled as it contacted the molten orange smile carved into the metal.

Talos was on the move across the sand, keeping himself low and his eyes locked onto the Red Lion. Massive boulders were ripped from the ground by Radahn's magic, and they came hurtling at him at frightful speed. Talos dashed past the first, then slid under the second. The third came and he leapt over it before igniting himself with the power of a storm once more. Enormous bolts of lightning came crashing from the heavens, blasting the area around him. He took the sword in a two-handed grip as he landed, paused, then swung the blade down. Just as Okina had done with blood, lightning extended from Talos' blade like a lance, followed by more earth-shaking bolts. The ground was blackened and burnt to dark glass, and Radahn's armour surrendered to the sheer power being levied against him.

Multiple bolts, and that precise, targeted blade of storm's fury sliced through armour and flesh, burning and cutting in equal measure. The Demigod's breathing was ragged. Dark, tainted blood wept from sizzling wounds, but most importantly, the magic protecting the Red Lion's legs and steed had sputtered out. The Starscourge, wounded and on the brink, no longer cared about defence. And amidst the chaos that had swept in following Talos' involvement, the others had noticed.

''Talos, you terrifying bastard,'' Blaidd felt like laughing, ''now's our chance!''

Everyone advanced. They all knew that attacking now was no less dangerous than before, this was the Red Lion, but without the risk of being crushed by his magic should one get unlucky, the chance to finish this quickly couldn't be passed up. The Starscourge brought his curved swords up, ready to meet his would-be slayers. He was wounded and weakened, but still more than in the fight.

Hoarfrost crept along Blaidd's sword and he slashed the air. Two crescents of frost cut into Radahn's right side. Tragoth and Lionel attacked in unison, going for one leg each. Just barely avoiding a slash, Tragoth's massive hammer crashed into Radahn's knee, while Lionel's lance plunged into a thigh. Blaidd's assault continued, his own greatsword swinging in wild arcs that cut deep scores wherever it met grey flesh. He bounded and leapt, his keen senses and bestial agility keeping him from being swept away by the Demigod's wrathful counters. At one point, the half-wolf manage to plant his feet on the spine of one of Radahn's blades, ran up its length and took a leaping swing at his head. Radahn's drooling mouth parted in a snarl, his eyes narrowing as he tracked the incoming blade. Timing it just right, he jerked his head and bit down, his teeth clamping the greatsword in his jaws. Blaidd had only a moment to release the blade before Radahn thrashed his head side-to-side like a hunting dog with a hare, tossing the sword away. His feet hit the sand, and a sudden burst of desperate adrenaline surged as he threw himself back, narrowly avoiding being cleaved apart by an errant swing of a titanic sword.

Okina rushed forward, making a beeline for the scrawny horse. He drew his arm back, ready to leave the Demigod crippled. Radahn would not allow it. He gathered his sorcerous might, his entire body pulsing and warping as he hunched, his immense frame huddled over his steed. And then, like a missile, the ground exploded around him as he disappeared into the sky quicker than one could blink.

An eerie silence passed over the Wailing Dunes. Everything became still, and the surviving warriors exchanged glances, though their bodies never relaxing as they prepared for whatever attack might come.

''What's happening?'' Blaidd asked the question on everyone's mind, ''where'd he go?''

''Whatever the case, be on your guard, friends,'' Lionel said with a tremor in his voice. Everyone looked up, scanning the storm clouds for any sign of the Starscourge. Yet still, the unsettling stillness persisted.

''Did he retreat?'' Tragoth wondered.

''Be ready,'' the Crucible Knight came limping over to them. Her shield was gone, but her sword remained tightly clutched in her fist. ''He remains. It is not the nature of Demigods of worth to run from battle. Least of all General Radahn.''

Then something changed. Blaidd noticed it first, and those that saw him followed his gaze. The dark-grey clouds lightened like the coming of dawn. A rumbling like distant thunder ended the silence. Then, a falling star broke through the clouds as a burning comet of agony and wrath, howling its challenge at any who would hear it. General Radahn thundered towards the earth, sending tremors through the ground as he came crashing down, bathing everything in searing light and hellish heat.

''Scatter!'' Talos commanded, loud enough to bring the others back to their senses and move to wherever they thought it was safe. Except, Talos remained where he was. The curving arc of Radahn's flight was clear. The Demigod was coming straight for him. Talos would end it here. He knew he could never equal Tomoe in her elegance and peerless technique. But the Tarnished had something she didn't. Power beyond mortal limits.

Thinking back on that brief, far away time, Talos emulated the swordswoman. He sucked in a breath and sheathed his sword, then set himself into a low stance. The wind began to sweep in from all sides, gathering around Talos until a dust devil swirled with him at its heart. The sky darkened again as the clouds became heavier, until the pitter-pat of rain became a torrential drone, turning the parched red sands of the Wailing Dunes the colour of dark clay. Thunder boomed like the drums of a war god, while lightning slashed from the heavens.

Closer and closer, the moment of cataclysmic impact had almost arrived. The heat from Radahn's burning form was leaving a trail of glistening glass in his wake, steaming as rain cooled the super-heated sand. Talos flexed his fingers on the hilt of his sword, then tightened his grip on it. The heat wash was enough to suck the oxygen from the air, and the edges of his cloak were starting to burn, blackening and flaking away.

The moment came. The heartbeat span he drew his blade was the same moment The Red Lion was close enough for them to meet each other's eyes. Focused intent clashed with maddened fury.

'You fought well. Rest now.'

A flash so bright it stole the sight of all who witnessed it was accompanied an explosion that seemed to shake the world. Heat, light and pressure blasted out, taking sand and warriors with it as it surged outward. For the entire length of the Wailing Dunes, a fresh scar was carved into the bloody sands. Nobody saw what had happened. It was so fast and so violent. Forces of nature collided in a way nobody present thought possible.

When sight and sound returned, the battlefield was transformed. Where Talos had been, there was only a deep crater, the sides turned to black glass that shined in the downpour. Blaidd struggled to his feet and staggered forward. Sand fell from his armour as he blinked light stains from his eyes. He peered over the edge of the crater, and there, lying sprawled on his back with his body smoking, was Talos. Yet there was no sign of the Starscourge.

''Shit...'' Blaidd cursed and slid down the smooth crater wall, where he crouched next to the fallen Tarnished. His face was a mix of black and red as burnt skin and open wounds marred its surface. His eyes were closed and he didn't seem to be breathing. Blaidd shook his shoulder, looking for any sign of life. ''Talos!'' he shook him again, ''Talos!''

Blaidd heard something descending into the crater, and turned to see the Crucible Knight. While her own face was bloodied and clumps of sand clung to her armour, she didn't seem to acknowledge it. Instead, she regarded Talos curiously.

''Does he live?'' she asked.

''What does it look like?'' the half-wolf snarled, ''he's not breathing. And look at him. I'm surprised there's anything left after that.'' The Crucible Knight's eyes narrowed as she noticed something behind the half-wolf.

''Perhaps you needn't be surprised. Look,'' she nodded towards the Tarnished. Blaidd did as she said and looked. Talos' arm had moved. He was pointing up at the sky, which had cleared remarkably quickly. Up above, the sky was dark, while stars and constellations speckled the inky black of night. Before their eyes, the sky seemed to stretch, each point of light elongating and shifting.

''The stars...'' Blaidd breathed, unable to believe what he was seeing, ''they're moving.'' He couldn't believe his eyes. Everything that he'd been working for had been for this moment. Lady Ranni's fate was in motion once more, no longer held in stasis by General Radahn. Every night for as long as he could remember, the night sky was identical each time he gazed upward. But now there was motion, different colours and formations. It was beautiful.

''Your friend yet lives,'' the Crucible Knight said, ''but whether that remains the case is uncertain. Climb, half-wolf. I will carry him.'' She placed one arm under Talos' legs and one under his head, then she allowed her phantasmal wings to appear and spread out before leaping from the crater. Blaidd followed, using his sword in concert with his great strength and agility to quickly return to the surface.

The Crucible Knight set Talos down, propping him up with one arm. Moments later, Blaidd was crouched next to him. The Tarnished opened his eyes.

''That could have gone better,'' Talos rasped. Blaidd just laughed and shook his head.

''Went about as good as I could have hoped, honestly. Radahn wouldn't have been a Demigod if he were easy to kill. Still, what a sick way to fight, eh? Had no idea you could do things like that,'' he took a look at the crater, then back at Talos, ''what happened? Where's Radahn?''

''Oh, that,'' Talos sat up, nodding his thanks to the Crucible Knight, ''by the look of it, when we clashed, he either exploded or disintegrated. I can't say either way. One moment I'm swinging my sword, the next I'm at the bottom of a hole.'' He got to one knee, and with a series of cracks and pops, he got to his feet.

''You possess the strength of a Lord,'' the Crucible Knight said, her gaze one of appraisal, ''you are Tarnished, are you not?''

''I am. And I felt the Great Rune pass on to me, meaning I am one step closer to taking the throne. Who are you?''

''I am... was, one of Lord Godfrey's knights. My name is Permia, the fifth Knight of the Crucible,'' Permia thumped a fist against her breastplate, ''and you are Talos. Don't look surprised. Your friend said your name in his panic,'' she said.

''I didn't panic,'' Blaidd groused, ''besides, he's a friend. Why wouldn't I worry?'' This made Permia give a slight, teasing smirk.

''I meant no discourtesy. But-'' something caught her eye and she looked up. The others followed her action and saw a great white light shoot from void, streak across the sky and disappear over the cliffs near Redmane Castle. A bright flash preceded a resonant boom, shaking the ground so violently that it was a struggle to remain standing.

''A shooting star...'' Blaidd said after several moments, then whipped around to address Talos, ''did you see that!?''

''How could I not? And it seems to have landed further in-land,'' he replied, a rare look of amazement on his face.

''To think General Radahn was holding back something like that. And in the state he was in no less,'' the half-wolf shook his head, ''without you, we wouldn't have stood a chance, would we?''

''I won't lie. Most likely not,'' Talos said. There was no ego in his statement. It was a simple statement of fact. Mortals just weren't meant to face beings like Radahn. But then, perhaps not. After all, he'd been a mortal man when he'd conquered the Demons of his own world.

''Never in my life would I have dared dream I'd witness such a climax,'' came the voice of Lionel as he and Tragoth lumbered over, fatigue weighing on their limbs as much as their armour, ''I shall never forget this day,'' he let out a laboured sigh, ''but I think that's enough excitement for one day.''

''Aye,'' that single word conveyed every iota of Tragoth's exhaustion and then some. He was tempted to lay down, but between the bone-deep weariness and the bulk of his armour, he wasn't sure he'd get back up again.

Blaidd saw two familiar forms coming closer. He smiled with relief seeing both Alexander and Therolina still lived. However, his smile was quickly replaced with a frown as he saw the Warrior Jar's outer shell bore a tremendous crack in one side, while stringy slime and other biological matter hung and dripped from the wound. His movements were sluggish and his feet dragged, using one arm to support his weight as he moved.

''What happened?'' the half-wolf questioned as he met them. A mix of emotions crossed the Finger Maiden's face before she replied.

''Alexander... he took a blow meant for me. I'd surely have died were it not for him,'' she said, ''I did my best to heal him, but I am unsure what I can do for a Warrior Jar.''

''I said I'd protect you, didn't I? Alexander of the Iron Fist never reneges on a solemn vow,'' his voice trembled, but he did his best to remain in good humour, but ultimately failed, ''I just wish I was stronger. One hit was all it took to crack me open and send my innards spilling out.''

''One hit more than most, Alexander. You being alive is a testament to your resilience,'' Talos said. The Warrior Jar had to take a moment to recognise the Tarnished.

''Talos? Is that you? By the gods, man! You look like death!''

''That makes two of us, I suppose,'' Talos' chuckle came as a stuttered wheeze, ''Therolina, could I borrow you for a moment?''

''Oh, of course,'' she said before moving to him and began healing him. More requests for her healing followed, and soon everyone had their wounds tended to. They took a while to gather themselves after their ordeal.

''It's time I got going, I think,'' Blaidd announced as he looked up at the stars, ''I'm sure Lady Ranni already knows what happened, but she'll appreciate me checking in.''

''Yes. It would be wise to depart,'' Lionel said, ''there is still much to do. What say you, Tragoth? Together, I think we can do much good for any wayward Tarnished we might find.''

''Aye, 'tis true. 'Tis unusual fer me to travel in company, but yer a fine warrior, and you proved yer mettle today. It'd be my pleasure,'' the Great Horned One replied. Then Lionel turned to Therolina.

''And what of you? What will you do?'' he asked. The Finger Maiden's eyes flicked between the two knights, then back at Alexander, who remained seated as his wounds were left unhealed. She felt like she had to keep trying, but something about the Warrior Jar's nature made it difficult to make any meaningful progress.

''I... I do not know...'' she wanted to remain with Alexander. He saved her life, taking a blow from General Radahn, a Demigod, for her. She owed him more than she could say. But if she went with Lionel and Tragoth, there was the possibility of meeting her Tarnished. It was a slim hope, but one she desperately wanted to cling to.

''Go with them, Therolina,'' Alexander said, ''I will remain here a while. You needn't worry. I have dealt with grievous injury before, and on this journey, it is just another trial for me to overcome.''

''But I-''

''Listen to him, lass. I can see it clear as day. His path is one trod alone. If that's how it is, then that's how it should be. That true, Warrior?'' Tragoth said.

''Indeed it is,'' Alexander agreed, ''but do not think you've seen the last of me! And you have your own destiny to meet, don't you? A Tarnished awaits their Finger Maiden. It wouldn't be right to keep each other waiting.''

As they deliberated, Talos was up and moving. He paced around, looking for his sword. It had flown free of his grip during the blast, and now he couldn't find it. That was rather frustrating. He rather liked that sword, and he'd invested no small amount of souls and materials into its refinement.

''Talos,'' Permia spoke, her voice hard and commanding, ''a moment, if you would.''

''You have questions. Ask,'' he said, short and to the point. Her face, while stoic and disciplined, gave away her intent. It was her eyes, mostly. They'd been on him for some time, as if silently taking his measure.

''Your path is that of lordship. There is no questioning that. I will say it clearly; I've no love for the Golden Order. I've no love for Marika's way. It was her rule that saw Lord Godfrey banished and my order exiled in shame. Should you take the throne, what will you do?''

It didn't take much to understand what she was truly asking. ''I see. You wish to know where you and your order will fit in, if they do at all. After all, you were loyal to a Lord, then exiled through no fault of your own,'' Talos stared into her eyes then, ''the Greater Will will die by my hand. There will be no gods or masters. I will bring balance back to the world for all, and nothing else. After that, it is up to the world's inhabitants to decide their fates for themselves. I will defend this world, but I will never rule it.''

Permia took a minute to digest this information before speaking. ''That is a bold declaration. But it is a declaration I can admire, at least. But you gleaned what I had meant to ask. Where would us Crucible Knights fall in your world?''

''Wherever you wish. Remain in the Lands Between or do not. Serve the realm at my side or do not. You will be free. I will not make demands of you.''

Permia's expression hardened, her orange eyes scrutinizing. ''Some may take such an approach as weakness. Lord or no, you will have enemies. Such is the way of power. Lord Godfrey had to defend his throne many a time, most from within the kingdom. Some wanted his power, others his wife, while others merely sought to depose a warlord. You have proven your strength to me, but a prospecting ruler is not as free to wield their strength as it may seem. Kings and tyrants tend to be synonymous, do they not?''

Talos was curious as to what she might be getting at. Then it clicked. ''Do you see me as worthy of your service once the time comes, perhaps?''

Permia gave a restrained smile. ''Your perceptiveness does you credit. As for my answer; you are not Lord Godfrey. But that does not mean you cannot be his equal. I will locate my fellow knights and let them know of you. Continue to prove yourself, and you may find my order is willing to offer their blades to you. You have impressed me, Talos. But it is not my approval you need.''

''And whose do I need?''

''The leader of our order, Ordovis. In the days of old, all decisions were discussed amongst us, but it was Ordovis who made the final choice. That has not changed. But know that you have my support in this matter.''

''I thank you for that. You were dauntless in the face of General Radahn. I can only imagine what your full retinue can do,'' Talos said.

''And perhaps one day you shall find out. But until then, stay the course. Claim the remaining Great Runes. I will find my fellow knights and call them to gather at Leyndell,'' Permia's shimmering wings materialised, '' a final word of warning. The masked swordsman. I know not what he seeks, but my instincts make me weary of him. I doubt this is the last you will see of him.''

''I know. And I haven't failed to notice his sudden absence. Whatever his reason for coming here, he probably got what he came for,'' Talos replied. Permia nodded.

''As long as you are aware and guard your back. Farewell, Talos.''

He nodded to her as she took off, then soared past Redmane Castle and out of sight. He walked over to where Blaidd and Alexander were talking. Blaidd heard him coming and turned.

''Ah, there you are. Wrapped up your business with the Crucible Knight, eh? Anyone ever tell you that you attract the strangest company?''

Talos smiled. ''Says the giant wolf-man I happen to be friends with. But no, though I have noticed a pattern,'' he looked at Alexander, ''what were you discussing?''

''Ah, that,'' Alexander began, ''I was telling Blaidd that I will remain here a while. You see, when Radahn cracked me open, I lost a sizeable chunk of my innards. So I need to replenish myself and gather my strength. The corpses here are of fine quality, and finer still are the remnants from the Shattering. All I need do is stuff them into myself and the rest sorts itself out,'' he chuckled humourlessly, ''though, I suppose this all sounds rather macabre to you fellows. That's just how it is for us Jar-folk.''

Talos and Blaidd shared a glance, then just shrugged, much to Alexander's surprise. Talos had seen and heard of much worse, and it wasn't like the Warrior Jar was capturing living people for his purposes. Nobody would bury these men, and it was equally unlikely than anybody would mourn them. If they could be used to strengthen a good soul like Alexander, then so be it. Blaidd's reasoning was much simpler. He just didn't care.

''Have you decided what you're doing, Talos? As I said, Lady Ranni will want an update from me. And I'm sure Queen Rennala would want to speak with you after today,'' Blaidd said. Talos nodded solemnly.

''You're right. I know I promised I would end Radahn's suffering, but I still killed her son. It is only right I deliver the news in person,'' he'd given up on finding his sword by this point. Oh well. He'd miss it, but he had adequate replacements. ''If that's everything, let's be off.''

One by one, the groups said their farewells and left the Wailing Dunes. By daybreak, the dunes were silent and still, sitting as a scarred wasteland once again. Only the dead inhabited it now. Over 500 men and one Demigod had been slain within the space of an hour.

Yet despite the carnage, for the first time since Caelid became blighted with the Scarlet Rot, the sun shone just a little brighter.

The End.

There may very well be a chance I'll add more chapters to this story but for now. I feel this is a good place to stop.

I enjoyed writing this story and I am aware there is a lot more I can do with it. Maybe if I feel the need for more chapters I can just call it The Outer Lord part 2 ????

Please enjoy, review, comment