Within Nokron's inner city, countless buildings shook violently. Amid deafening roars, they collapsed one after another.
The Nox people screamed in terror and fled in every direction, trying to escape the devastated ruins.
Even the Silver Tears, those beings capable of reshaping their bodies into all manner of forms, could not escape. They were mercilessly torn apart beneath the collapsing structures, silver liquid splattering everywhere.
In a so-called civilized society, Nolan would undoubtedly be condemned as a tyrant. But not in the Borderlands. The path of conquest would only be recorded in the annals of a Lord's achievements.
More than that, Lords without such feats might even have their right to be called a Lord called into question.
Of course, Nolan did not care about so-called local customs, but he knew some things simply had to be done.
Crimson flames raged through the hall like demons, their blazing light staining the entire chamber blood-red.
Yet the Night Priestesses still stood atop the tower, their cold eyes like frozen stars in the dark, silently watching the battlefield below.
"Your Majesty Nolan, Nokron and the Firelink Army have no grudge against each other. Why must you push us so far?"
One of the Priestesses finally spoke, her voice faint beneath the roar of the flames.
"We have no grudge, true. But does a Lord need a reason to conquer everything?"
Nolan's lips lifted slightly as he looked at the three women before him with open amusement, as though mocking their hypocritical innocence.
He did not bother making grand speeches to them. Would these Priestesses, who had held power for so long, really believe in some beautiful ideal?
Besides, no matter how righteous a reason he gave, it would not hide the terrible things he had already done.
Nolan was too lazy to defend his actions at all. He merely said flatly,
"If you want a reason, then here it is. There is only one throne, and only one person can sit on it. I simply want to know whether that person will be me, or your Lord."
Once they had their so-called "Lord," they could no longer stay out of this struggle for the throne. These disaster-seeking Noxians would never remain peacefully underground.
The pupils of the three Night Priestesses contracted at the same time, surprise and confusion appearing on their faces.
The Priestess standing between Estrid and Aurora in particular had trembling lips, and at last she could not help asking,
"How do you know about our Lord?"
That secret could not be exposed yet. Otherwise, it might bring true annihilation upon Nokron.
"How I know is none of your concern. Hurry up and bring him out. I'm in a rush." Nolan waved his hand dismissively. He could not sense the slightest threat from these three Priestesses.
It was not that they were so powerful they dulled his senses. They were simply too weak, not even comparable to the Dragonkin Soldiers he had just burned to ashes.
There was no point bullying opponents like this.
What he needed was a target that could truly display his strength, a reason that would force the Nox people to submit to him.
And killing their Lord right in front of them was undoubtedly an excellent choice.
Would the Nox people grieve for a dead artificial biological weapon? Most likely not. But they would certainly feel fear and despair.
Fear was a fine way to make people submit. As for a Lord's benevolence, they could slowly experience that after they became his own people.
Faced with Nolan's urging, the three Priestesses exchanged glances.
They silently spread their arms, slowly raised their heads, and fixed their eyes on the front of the room, as though performing some mysterious ritual.
At the very center of the room, a massive moon pattern appeared on the floor, surrounded by ancient inscriptions.
Nolan lowered his head and looked at the ground. The moon seemed to be shining with silver radiance.
That strange light made him narrow his eyes as he studied it closely.
Then he saw it clearly. It was not moonlight, but a pool of silvery liquid seeping up from beneath the ground.
Nolan's brows lifted slightly as he watched the silver liquid slowly flow across the floor like a shimmering pond.
The tower's ceiling had long since been torn away, and the flowing liquid reflected the scattered Starlight overhead.
"At last you've come out. Mimic Tear, King of the Night."
A "Lord" walked out of the silver liquid, clad in gold-and-silver armor, with long silver hair.
His appearance was not much different from Nolan's, though the details were still somewhat rough, like unpolished jade awaiting its final carving.
It was as though he were walking down a long set of steps. First came his head, then his body, then his feet, until finally his entire form emerged from the silver moonlight.
The moonlight on the ground gradually gathered onto that Lord, and every edge of his body was at last refined, changing from rough to flawless.
At last, the Mimic Tear completed its final transformation.
It appeared before Nolan in a nearly perfect form, like a newborn infant brimming with life and vitality.
This "Big Brother," who had turned countless Tarnished in the game into Bell Servants, had even been jokingly called the true Elden Lord.
And it was also the King of the Night that Nokron had always pursued.
"It really does look like me. I wonder whether it truly has the qualifications to become a Lord."
Nolan stood there, carefully sizing up the creature that looked exactly like him.
He had known about the Mimic Tear from the very beginning, so the sight before him did not surprise him.
He did not envy how easily it had obtained power surpassing countless others, nor did he fear that it might use that power to kill him.
Nolan's gaze remained fixed on the Mimic Tear, and curiosity rose in his heart.
He wanted to know just how far an artificial being like this could go. After all, the throne had to be seized through strength.
Just then, the King of the Night suddenly raised his hand.
Clang!!
In an instant, the Promised Claymore and the Dark Moon Greatsword appeared in his hands at the same time, gleaming with cold light.
Not only that, scales and dragon wings rapidly grew across his body, while lightning and flames appeared around him.
"It can actually go this far?" Nolan finally showed a trace of surprise. "The Noxians have given me a pleasant surprise!"
Boom!
The King of the Night suddenly exerted force, driving both legs hard against the ground while beating the dragon wings on his back.
With that powerful recoil, he shot toward Nolan in an instant, raising the greatswords in both hands and bringing them down with all his strength.
Rumble!!
A thunderous explosion rang through the air. Wherever the blades passed, they actually released a streak of golden lightning sword energy.
That sword energy stretched forward like a roaring dragon baring its fangs and claws, then smashed the entire tower into rubble.
Nolan gripped the Promised Claymore in one hand and held it horizontally before him, maintaining a blocking stance.
With nowhere left to stand, the two of them fell rapidly. Yet the force behind the Mimic Tear's sword did not diminish. Instead, it continued to grow, pressing downward without pause.
They landed on the ground, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. Nolan's foot crushed out a deep crater beneath him, and then he suddenly exerted force through his hand, knocking the King of the Night backward.
"Not such a perfect imitation after all," Nolan said with a soft laugh.
The King of the Night had indeed used golden lightning and scorching flames, but they only looked frightening.
If Nolan's own power was a miracle in itself, then the King of the Night was merely imitating a story from myth.
In the terms of Dark Souls, it was a miracle. In the terms of Elden Ring, it was an Incantation.
In essence, the King of the Night was no different from Vyke, the other knights, or the Firelink believers. All of them were merely imitators of divine power.
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