Morgott was speechless for a moment. It was true; he had come for the same reason. Though Morgott hadn't intended to take things too far, what was done was done. Morgott gave a slightly awkward laugh and spoke again. “Heh, it seems we had the same idea.” “To get a sense of the situation inside Stormveil and make a future assault easier.” “But I won't lay a hand on the innocent.” Morgott's final words carried the faint weight of a warning. He respected his opponent, Bai Shi, and was therefore unwilling to resort to underhanded tactics. Mohg laughed again, this time more brazenly. “Hahahaha! Brother, you're so full of grand pronouncements. It's all rather hypocritical, isn't it?” “Even if you hold back now, when the fighting truly begins, will you really be able to spare the city's residents? Those so-called innocents?” “Or have you been the Grace-Given King for so long that you've forgotten the methods we once used?” “Don't forget, brother.” “It was I who launched the surprise attack on the Haligtree, which is the only reason you had it so easy on the front lines.” “What? Have you grown to look down on my dirty tactics now?” “Then again, it's not like we were ever on the same path.” Morgott's brow furrowed deeply, a flicker of anger in his eyes. He wouldn't make excuses for his past actions. What angered him were Mohg's last words. He had never once thought of himself and his brother as being on different paths. Yet Mohg always insisted they were, for reasons that were completely beyond him. To Morgott, it was as senseless as a child's tantrum. “Just don't take it too far.” “I admit it's hypocritical of me. Say what you will.” “And don't ever say we're on different paths again.” Mohg was about to sneer at his brother's naivety, but when he met Morgott's gaze, as resolute as a drawn sword, he swallowed his words. Because this wasn't naivety on Morgott's part; it was genuine compassion. Mohg had always known that. Morgott would resort to unsavory methods to protect the capital, but he was, without a doubt, a worthy and benevolent king. Though Mohg said nothing more, a secret anger kindled within him. What he wanted most was to hear Morgott admit, with his own mouth, that they were different—that they walked separate paths. Then, his brother could finally sever ties with his own despicable sibling and draw a clear line between them. But his brother was always . He could be more selfish, could live for himself, but instead he always chose to shoulder that heavy, rotten burden. This wasn't something the Omen twins were ever meant to do! They had never enjoyed the golden age of the dynasty; on the contrary, they had only known injustice. Why had his brother shouldered this responsibility so readily, so steadfastly? Mohg couldn't fathom it, nor could he understand. That was why he had long ago accepted their differences for what they were—real and stark. He was the Lord of Blood, walking a path unhallowed by the Erdtree, doing everything for his own sake. And Morgott was the true King of Leyndell, the selfless and fearless ‘Grace-Given King.’ The hero-king who had defended the Royal Capital, Leyndell, a man who could be called its final bastion. This chasm in their identities, this difference, had always tormented Mohg. Yet his brother was unyielding, always trying to pull him back to the so-called ‘righteous path.’ But that was impossible. Mohg would not have it. He would establish his own dynasty, with Miquella. And for that very reason, Mohg had no desire to see his brother now. But Morgott didn't see it that way. Whatever Mohg became, he was still his brother. They were trueborn brothers, from the same father and mother, who had endured the same fate. They, of all people, should rely on one another. But Morgott wouldn't say any of this. It would only displease Mohg further. Of course, Morgott knew Mohg had his own ambitions. Ambitions that, in his eyes, bordered on treason, which was why Mohg had been avoiding him. Back in the sewers beneath the capital, the Formless Mother had approached them both. Morgott had rejected Her, but Mohg had accepted Her as his mother—his *true* mother. Even then, Morgott knew that Mohg was destined to harbor a different kind of ambition. Although Mohg’s choices were different from his, and he didn't share his own devotion to the Erdtree... Still, if Mohg ever wanted to return, he would not refuse him. But since Mohg clearly had no such thoughts at present, and he had no idea what his brother had been up to, he decided it was best to leave him be for now. He would wait and see what Mohg himself desired in the future. Sensing the growing tension, Morgott changed the subject. “How long have you been in Stormveil?” Mohg thought for a moment before answering. “I haven’t been here long, but there are a surprising number of people. More than I expected.” “This place is completely different from when that fellow Godrick was in charge.” Morgott glanced aside. Had Mohg secretly established his own network? Morgott had been guarding the main gate of Stormveil for quite some time before. Back then, almost no one entered or left the castle. It wasn’t open like it was now. Morgott’s expression remained unchanged as he nodded. Mohg raised the goblet before him and took a large gulp. “What about you, brother? How long have you been here?” Morgott picked up the exquisite goblet as well and sniffed the pungent liquid inside. Wine? It had been a long time since he had drunk any... No, had he *ever* drunk wine? Morgott himself couldn't quite remember. He brought the goblet to his lips and took a small sip. He frowned, then set it back down. “Me? I arrived a few weeks ago.” Mohg heard this and could hardly believe it. “A few weeks? As this undead?” Morgott nodded, which earned him Mohg’s laughter. “Hahahaha! Brother, I can’t believe you’ve just been diligently working as a laborer on a construction crew.” “Did you know? You’re actually something of a minor celebrity in Stormveil.” “Everyone knows about the undead who’s a real powerhouse on the construction team.” “Those fools would never guess in a million years that the one building their houses is the Grace-Given King of Leyndell, haha!” Morgott shrugged, unbothered. When infiltrating, one had to establish one’s character and identity properly. Besides, it was just a bit of manual labor. It wasn't as if he was incapable of it. Morgott simply liked to see a job done well. “I was vaguely aware, but I’m that famous? That’s a surprise.” “I was just doing what needed to be done. It seems an undead performing such tasks is still far too out of the ordinary...” Having said that, Morgott turned the question back to Mohg. “And you? What’s the story behind your identity?” Mohg leaned back in his chair, finding a more comfortable position, and smiled. “The part I’m playing this time... is the young master of a wealthy Tarnished noble family.” “This is the kind of role I enjoy most, unlike your dull and miserable existence.” “The things in Stormveil are quite amusing. For a few runes—useless to me—I can acquire all sorts of novelties.” “Thanks to that, I haven’t been bored to the point of madness recently.” His avatar out here didn't have the chance to share a bed with Miquella. That was far too boring for Mohg. However, some of the entertainment in Stormveil had caught his interest, and he had recently found some fun activities. For instance, going to the specialized racetrack here to watch the horse races. Because the draconic beasts in Stormveil had gradually replaced horses, the few horses that remained were retired from service entirely. Later, the people in charge of managing and raising the horses came up with horse racing as a form of entertainment, and it turned out to be incredibly popular. Of course, many who went there weren't actually interested in the races themselves—those were a minority. Most people went there to bet on the horses. In the Lands Between, where entertainment was scarce, gambling in all its forms was the most thrilling amusement. Mohg had a fortune in runes he had no way to spend; to him, they were just numbers. He had even bought a horse of his own there. Mohg excitedly told Morgott about his rich life in Stormveil recently. Morgott himself cared little for entertainment and didn’t really understand what Mohg was talking about. But if his brother was living well, then that was naturally a good thing. Though Morgott didn’t know what Mohg had been doing behind his back, from his current appearance, he certainly wasn't short on runes. And his daily life was likely quite comfortable; otherwise, he wouldn’t have developed such a lavish lifestyle. Due to their unexpected encounter, the two brothers talked for the first time in a long while. They spoke of many things that day, but by tacit agreement, neither delved too deeply into the other's affairs. At the main gate of Stormveil Castle, the silver knight responsible for registering entrants stared, mesmerized by the beautiful face before him. Only when the female knight in front of him put her helmet back on did he snap out of his daze and let her and her party through. Clad in the ornate and graceful Needle Knight set, Leda looked up at the magnificent and imposing castle on the distant cliff. “Stormveil... I wonder what it's like inside now.” Beside her, Dryleaf Dane remained silent as ever. But as he looked upon the ancient fortress, a glint of excitement appeared in his eyes. Meanwhile, Redmane Freyja was still chattering away carelessly. “That colosseum we passed is back in use! I’d love to go in and test my mettle against those fighters!” “I heard Stormveil has its own arenas. We can go check them out later, right?” Dane nodded, a rare sign of agreement with Freyja's words. Due to space constraints within Stormveil, Bai Shi had long since moved his army to the Stormhill area for training and garrisoning. The colosseum to the rear of the castle had been reopened, welcoming any energetic Tarnished who wished to test their strength. Leda looked at these two, whose minds were filled with nothing but sparring, and sighed helplessly. If she hadn’t forcefully dragged them away just now, there was no telling how much time they would have wasted there. “You can, but don't forget why we’re here.” Freyja patted her helmet. To be honest, she didn't really know why they had come to Stormveil this time. Leda hadn’t explained in detail before, so Freyja hadn’t given it much thought. Dane, on the other hand, had figured out their purpose long ago, but he wasn't about to explain it to Freyja. Seeing Freyja's blank expression, Leda couldn’t help but smile under her helmet. Then it occurred to her that, among the three of them, she was apparently the only one who could handle communications, and her smile vanished. Thinking about it that way, maybe letting those two loose in an arena to entertain themselves wasn’t such a bad idea. Finally, Leda sighed and began to explain to Freyja. “Stormveil is currently where the Tarnished are most concentrated. We need to gather intelligence here.” “Even though we've already found the portal that might lead to the Mohgwyn Dynasty, you can never have too much information.” “Of course, our most important objective this time is to try and stir up hatred and conflict between Bai Shi and Mohg.” “We need to find a way to recruit him to our side, to kill Mohg together.” Understanding finally dawned on Freyja’s face. “Oh, so that’s what this is about.” “That makes sense. His strength is truly incredible. If he joins the fight, then Mohg won’t be a problem at all.” Leda nodded and said, “Alright, now that you know, let's get moving.” Content orıginally comes from 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭⟡𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦⟡𝘯𝘦𝘵 “If you have free time, you can go find people to spar with. Just try not to draw too much attention.” Freyja let out a happy cheer, and even Dane couldn’t help but crack a smile.