"The atmosphere here is entirely different from when we first entered Sellia," Mohg remarked, squinting as he led Liana through the heart of the town.
If the outskirts of Sellia felt like common market streets, this area leaned more toward an upscale commercial district—albeit one with a rather eclectic clientele.
With a cursory glance, Mohg spotted people in a wide variety of attire. Some belonged to the lost dynasties native to Caelid, while others were nobles from Limgrave's Storm lineage. He even caught sight of several members of the Church of Dragon Communion. Sensing Mohg's gaze, they glanced back before turning and disappearing into a shop.
Mohg noted the sign above the door: a blacksmith's smithy. He intended to circle back and investigate the shop once he had a better grasp of the local situation.
"Lord Mohg…"
"Hmm? What is it?" Mohg looked down in confusion as he felt Liana tugging at his sleeve.
"That person over there… he's the nomadic merchant who sells Aeonian Butterflies."
"Oh?"
Mohg immediately shifted his gaze to the merchant. The man wore the typical dark robes of his trade, though his were adorned with a few stray gemstones. A rapier hung at his waist. His exposed skin was exceptionally pale, like someone who hadn't seen the sun in an age.
After a brief pause, Mohg began walking toward him. Such a deliberate approach did not escape the merchant's notice; he looked up at Mohg with a wary, questioning expression.
"Sir, it is not yet time for trade. If there is something you wish to purchase… you should return at night."
"No, I haven't come for a transaction. I simply wish to ask a question. Ah, forgive me—I've forgotten to introduce myself. I am a noble of Caria; my name is Luther."
With that, Mohg performed a formal Carian noble salute.
"A Carian noble?" The merchant's raspy voice betrayed his surprise. He looked Mohg up and down before nodding. "I imagine you must share some blood with the Carian Royals. From what I know, only those related to the royal line among the Carian nobility possess hair as black as yours."
"Not strictly so, though my family does indeed have deep ties to the royalty."
"I see. Then you are a distinguished guest from afar. Though it is not currently my business hours, I suppose I can spare a moment," the merchant said, returning the greeting with a traditional gesture of his own people. "What is it that you wish to ask?"
"I want to know where exactly you obtained your Aeonian Butterflies."
The merchant's eyes turned sharp with suspicion. His body tensed instinctively, but remembering where they were, he quickly relaxed into his original posture.
"…That question is a bit too private. It concerns my trade secrets; I'm afraid it is inconvenient to answer."
Mohg blinked, then allowed a helpless smile to cross his face. He realized his bluntness had been overeager.
"No, you've misunderstood me. I simply want to know if the Scarlet Rot is at risk of spreading further across Caelid. If it were merely about obtaining butterflies… I actually know of another place where they are far more abundant."
The merchant eyed him skeptically.
"Have you ever heard of the Lake of Rot?" Mohg continued, sensing the man's hesitation.
The merchant froze visibly at the mention of the name. "The Lake of Rot? You mean that stagnant place filled with the waters of the Scarlet Rot?"
"You've actually heard of it?" Mohg was genuinely surprised. He had assumed the merchant wouldn't know of such a place, yet he clearly did.
"…In a manner of speaking. It was once the site of an ancient dynastic ruin, buried deep underground for various reasons. Without ventilation or flowing water, the long-standing stagnation allowed the Scarlet Rot to expand. Even now, worshippers of the Rot still exist there. They claim the Rot symbolizes abundance… though I couldn't say if that is true or false."
The merchant nodded slowly as he shared his knowledge, all while quietly observing Mohg's reaction. Seeing that Mohg wasn't surprised by the history, he confirmed that Mohg was someone well-versed in these hidden annals.
"I know the way there," Mohg said. "Though the journey is perilous, I have no issue reaching the outskirts. Therefore, I am not coveting your source of Scarlet Rot toxins. I only wish to know if the location you frequent poses a threat to the living."
"…Since you know that history, you should also know that history flows like water, constantly moving forward. The germination of Scarlet Rot does not depend on such conditions alone. The Lands Between are still moving toward prosperity and growth… even if that prosperity is a facade. Those entities hidden in the shadows do not yet dare to show their faces."
As the merchant spoke, he didn't miss the chance to take a jab at the Golden Order. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the Golden Order's momentum in unifying the Lands Between was nearly unstoppable.
"So, can you tell me where it is?" Mohg asked, his gaze unwavering as he looked into the merchant's eyes.
"…In a cave in the southeast of Caelid. The cavern has been completely contaminated by the Rot. Unless it is purged by a fierce flame, there is no cure for it. However, you need not worry. I have scouted the surroundings; the area is a wasteland. The Scarlet Rot cannot spread outward from there."
Perhaps wanting to avoid further questioning, or perhaps choosing to believe Mohg's intentions, the merchant gave a general location and explained what he knew.
"I see… But are you not afraid that I might be a disciple of the Rot, looking for a chance to spread it?"
"…I have met those worshippers before. They are nothing like you. They do not possess your mental clarity, nor do they care so much for their personal appearance."
"You've met them?" Mohg's eyes narrowed.
"Indeed. One of them was actually a former client of mine… Please, do not look at me so. I do not reveal my clients' information to others. Come to think of it… we have spoken for so long without an introduction. How rude of me. My name is Bugge. If you find yourself in need of anything, feel free to browse my wares tonight."
"…I will keep that in mind."
Mohg nodded to Bugge, thanked him, and then continued toward the center of Sellia.
He hadn't forgotten that his primary goal was to establish contact and exchange with the sorcerers of Sellia. However, it wouldn't be appropriate to go as "Luther." He would need to speak with them in his capacity as the Lord of Blood.
Naturally, he was using a fake identity to avoid tipping off other factions. What he needed to do now was notify the Mohgwyn Dynasty's operatives within Sellia to contact the town's current administrators.
But before that, he could use his "Luther" persona to see what items the Dynasty might currently need. With this in mind, Mohg turned his attention toward the smithy he had seen the Dragon Communion members enter earlier.
Without hesitation, he strode toward the shop.
Just as he approached, the Dragon Communion members stepped out. Each of them now had a new weapon strapped to their back, suggesting they had found exactly what they were looking for.
The leader of the group recognized Mohg as the one who had been watching them earlier. His brow furrowed instantly, but he didn't pick a fight. He seemed curious to see what Mohg was up to.
When Mohg simply ignored them and walked straight into the smithy, they were taken aback. Realizing he had overthought things, the leader waved his hand, signaling his men to move out. They had an urgent mission to execute… a dragon hunt!
Upon entering the smithy, Mohg was met with rows of high-quality armor and weapons displayed on racks. Many pieces of armor were adorned with exquisite patterns—lilies, eagles, lions, suns, and various other motifs.
Mohg's eyes quickly locked onto a burly, boisterous-looking man with brown hair. He had a thick, bushy beard and messy hair tied back with a cord, giving him the appearance of someone who was rather informal in his personal life.
"Ho ho! A new face. That's a rare sight," the blacksmith said, looking up and raising an eyebrow in surprise.
"Rare? Isn't Sellia the trading hub of Caelid?"
"That's true enough, but true outsiders are still a minority—especially noble-looking folk like yourself." The blacksmith grinned, taking in Mohg's attire and posture. "Forgot to introduce myself. I'm the owner of this Meteorite Smithy. Name's Andre."
"Andre?!"
Mohg was stunned by the name, as it reminded him of a legendary "Boxing King."
"Hmm? Is something wrong with my name?" Andre asked, curious as to why Mohg looked so genuinely shocked without any hint of malice.
"No… it's nothing. I just remembered a blacksmith from an ancient legend I once read. His name was also Andre."
"An ancient legend? Tell me more. I've always loved a good story," Andre said, his interest piqued. He set aside his polishing cloth and the longsword he was working on.
"It's just a tale about a blacksmith who could forge god-slaying weapons. I'm sure you've heard plenty of legends like that, haven't you, Master Andre?"
Mohg chose to be vague. If he told stories from the world of Dark Souls in the world of the Elden Ring, some people might mistake the "First Flame" for the "Frenzied Flame." And while the Frenzied Flame was dangerous, it certainly couldn't compare to the First Flame.
"God-slaying weapons, eh? There are indeed many such legends… but it's the first time I've heard of one with my name. Who knows, maybe it's a prophecy! Perhaps I'll forge a god-slaying weapon of my own one day. Hahaha!"
Andre let out a hearty, boisterous laugh. Mohg couldn't help but smile along.
"So, guest, I assume you're here for a weapon? I've enjoyed our chat. Tell me, what are you looking for? Something custom-made or standard issue?" Andre leaned his weight on the table, looking at Mohg.
"I'd like to see your craftsmanship first, since this is my first time here," Mohg replied with a smile.
"Oh? That's fair. Follow me then."
Andre stroked his beard, chuckled, and grabbed a hammer from the side. He gestured for Mohg and Liana to follow him.
"Ando! Watch the front for a bit!"
"Understood, Master."
As Andre shouted toward the back room, a man of Eastern descent stepped out with a respectful bow.
"And this is…?"
"Oh, my apprentice. Apparently, he took a ship to the Lands Between. His home was called… oh, right, the Land of Reeds. He was a samurai back there. I think he planned to join the Golden Order's expeditionary force, but realized he wasn't cut out for it and gave up," Andre explained. The man named Ando bowed deeply to Mohg.
"But the lad has a real knack for smithing. He's not as good as me yet, but he's better than most. So, I took him in. Their forging techniques and weapons are quite interesting. If you're interested, I can show you some of the pieces I've made."
"If it isn't too much trouble, I would be honored."
"Follow me then. I'll show you some of my proudest works from the recent months."
A proud smile lit up Andre's face. He led Mohg and Liana through a heavy iron door and down into a cellar, where the air gradually became scorching hot.
"This is…"
"A forge I had built. I call it the Magma Core. It's a furnace that uses the heat of raw magma to forge weapons."
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