Elden Ring: The Shattering!

The moon was shining.

A seemingly unexpected ambush battle had started minutes ago. The Fire Pot's blazing flames made the night unbearably hot, while the clash of weapons created a chaotic and noisy atmosphere by the lakeside.

Kaelith had just killed two enemies in succession. Holding a staff in one hand and a sword in the other, he glanced around. By the light of the flames, he could see a few corpses lying on the ground. This first battle left him with a preliminary impression of The Lands Between.

Heavy armor and large shields were indeed tough to deal with. Even if the Carian soldiers were slightly stronger, as long as the enemies hid behind their shields, they could prolong the fight...

Blaidd's massive sword released waves of frost energy, yet even that couldn't instantly kill the knights wielding those large shields.

Three Cuckoo Knights—two armed with swords and shields, one with a spear—held their shields upright while thrusting with their weapons. It was a shamelessly annoying and frustrating tactic.

The Werewolf, however, was on an entirely different level of power. His movements were extremely agile, relentlessly suppressing the three knights.

"Break this balance first!"

Ignoring his nearby companions, Kaelith hid his straight sword behind his back and sprinted toward the Werewolf.

At this moment, a few soldiers noticed the strange Sorcerer and blocked his way, raising their swords to strike.

Whoosh—

An arrow sliced through the air, hitting one soldier in the throat and dropping him. Another soldier took an arrow to the chest, but his fine chainmail armor absorbed most of the impact. Gritting his teeth in pain, he raised his shield defensively. Then, he felt something heavy land on the surface of his shield and instinctively looked up.

With the full moon as a backdrop, a cloaked Sorcerer floated in midair, his blue eyes glowing as he looked down. In his hand, a staff inscribed with the Academy's runes gleamed faintly.

**Glintstone Pebble!**

Kaelith crouched low, listening to the thud of a body collapsing behind him. The close-range magic attack had torn through the soldier's neck; standard chainmail couldn't withstand such precise sorcery.

As the corpse hit the ground, Kaelith pushed off with his toes, sprinting like an athlete. He weaved through the chaos of battle, swinging his arms rapidly, and emerged unscathed from the melee.

The soldiers couldn't react in time—not because Kaelith was extraordinarily fast, but because their heavy armor slowed their movements. They barely had time to glance as this Sorcerer charged toward the rear of the formation.

*Is this guy insane?*

Ahead lay the Werewolf and the three Cuckoo Knights locked in combat. In The Lands Between, power levels were starkly divided. Forget the Werewolf—even an ordinary Cuckoo Knight could easily slice through an armored opponent in a single strike.

The final knight, sensing someone approaching from behind, turned his head and appeared momentarily surprised.

A Sorcerer was charging straight at him, staff raised, launching low-tier magic **Glintstone Pebble** from just a few meters away.

*Bang!*

Without hesitation, the knight blocked the attack with his large shield. The magic stone shattered into azure fragments, incapable of dealing any damage. The knight took a step forward, slamming his shield down with force.

**Shield Bash.**

Kaelith halted, feeling the gust of wind rushing toward him. If that shield strike connected, he'd be sent flying. But just as the shield descended, the knight followed up with a powerful thrust from his spear.

**Spear Thrust!**

This was the simplest spear combo—quick and fierce. Instinctively, Kaelith tilted his body to the right, raising his straight sword to block.

*Zzzzt!*

Sparks flew as blade and spear clashed, briefly illuminating Kaelith's face.

"Strength and speed are on an entirely different level. This knight also has incredible combat experience!"

As the shield came swinging back, Kaelith's instincts took over. Twisting his wrist, he slid his sword along the spear's shaft and slashed inward.

*Clang!*

A sharp sound echoed as Kaelith's blade struck the knight's armored glove. Though he couldn't cut through the steel, the impact bent the knight's fingers painfully, forcing him to release his spear.

The spear fell to the ground, but the shield bash continued its trajectory. However, Kaelith leaned in, closing the distance in an almost intimate embrace with the knight, rendering the shield strike ineffective.

*What?*

The knight, with his fully enclosed helmet restricting his vision, was baffled as his opponent pressed tightly against him. Even with his mercenary experience, he had never encountered such an odd fighting style.

How could anyone fight effectively in such close quarters? What was this Sorcerer planning?

This question barely had time to form in the knight's mind before a brilliant blue glow shattered his thoughts. Pressing his staff against the knight's chest, Kaelith activated another spell.

**Carian Slicer!**

Like a Jedi's "lightsaber," the short wand emitted a burst of energy, forming a three-foot-long energy blade. It pierced through the gaps in the knight's armor joints.

"Argh!"

The knight let out a miserable cry. His knee was struck by the blade, and the magic tore through bone and muscle. He lost balance and fell backward. His lower leg remained on the spot, though, severed from his body. A seasoned warrior, the knight instinctively swung a fist toward his opponent's chest.

*Clang!*

Accompanied by the sharp sound of metal striking, sparks scattered. The overwhelming strength knocked the straight sword aside, leaving a faint dent on Kaelith's chest plate.

Yet, instead of writhing in pain like a fragile sorcerer, Kaelith leaned into the punch. Tilting forward, he wore a bloodthirsty grin.

*Slash!*

The Carian Slicer swung back, slicing through the gaps between the knight's helmet and shoulder plate. In the darkness, a blue arc traced the motion.

*Thud!*

The knight finally collapsed. His helmet rolled to the ground, revealing a face frozen in disbelief visible through the slit.

The sword wasn't fast, but its precision was terrifying.

"Three ribs fractured." Kaelith pressed his chest, quickly assessing his injuries. When he looked up, his eyes met Blaidd's surprised gaze.

The wolfman stood atop a slain knight, his victim cleaved almost in half. Another knight with both arms severed writhed on the ground, screaming.

It was clear. Three Cuckoo Knights could barely hold Blaidd back. Two were no match at all.

"You..." Blaidd's eyes widened, his mind momentarily unable to process what he saw.

Even if spearmen knights weren't experts in melee combat, how could a single sorcerer cut one down in close range? That moment of confusion lasted only until Kaelith finished off another foe with a Glintstone Pebble.

"Retreat!"

Blaidd's voice carried authority, immediately recognizing the situation. The ground trembled faintly. Thunderous hoofbeats echoed in the distance as reinforcements closed in.

Without hesitation, Blaidd sprinted away. His greatsword tore through flesh, silencing two soldiers rushing to intercept him. Kaelith followed, carrying a shield and sword from a fallen knight.

On the way, no one could stop them. It wasn't because Kaelith was particularly fast but because the heavily armored soldiers moved too slowly. As Kaelith dashed through waist-high grass, he saw the archer shouting from the boat.

"Hurry, hurry!"

The small boat was already in the water. Blaidd leaped ten meters and landed squarely on its bow. The wolfman turned and tossed a rope like a whip, wrapping it around his companions' waists. He yanked them aboard without concern for their collisions with the boat, then shouted, "Go!"

The rowers paddled furiously. Blaidd swung his sword wildly, cutting through any remaining obstacles. Within moments, the boat distanced itself from the shore.

A squad of over a dozen Cuckoo Knights arrived at the shoreline, torches lighting the scene. But the boat was already hundreds of meters away. They could only pace along the shore, helpless.

"At least they didn't bring crossbows," Kaelith muttered, sitting upright. He touched his blood-soaked body, then glanced at the knight whose weapons he carried. The knight's lifeless eyes stared wide open, with a faint sword wound on his chest.

Kaelith froze momentarily but didn't feel much sorrow. Instead, he gently closed the knight's eyes. It wasn't that his heart was hardened, but he had seen such scenes too many times.

"War spares no one," he thought. "Once you pick up a weapon, you've chosen to risk being killed."

Kaelith glanced at the warriors panting on the boat, including Blaidd. Everyone was still tense, gasping for the cold night air.

None of them had a choice, just like Kaelith.

"At least I've found a way to survive."

Gripping his sword tightly, Kaelith felt the tension in his muscles transform into strength. As the aftermath of the battle subsided, especially after slaying two Cuckoo Knights, he realized that the surge of power he'd felt wasn't just adrenaline.

No, it was something deeper. A resonance within his soul.

Was it... the Dragon's Heritage?