Although Bai Shi was furious, he hadn't lost his head. Before the Misbegotten could charge, he took out the Spirit Calling Bell and gave it a gentle shake.
As mana flowed into it, Stormhawk Deenh answered Bai Shi's call, using the power to form a translucent gray body.
Deenh spread its wings for the first time in a long while, stretching its enormous pinions to their full extent. It had slumbered for far too long.
The joy of returning to the world made Deenh let out a piercing cry.
The shriek stunned the few Misbegotten at the front, forcing them to keep their distance, too afraid to advance. They sensed a predatory pressure.
At the same time, Bai Shi felt his strength increase—a buff from Deenh's cry.
More and more Misbegotten gathered. Seeing the strength in their numbers, the few who had been stunned earlier were no longer timid and began to let out strange cries. Read complete versıon only at 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⁂𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⁂𝘯𝘦𝘵
Bai Shi walked toward the Misbegotten, step by step. The blood-soaked earth beneath his feet was a testament to their unforgivable sins. Now, it was time to repay blood with blood.
Beating its wings, Deenh soared through the sky before suddenly diving. Its talons, backed by immense momentum, tore the skull off a Misbegotten. Then, it ascended once more, selecting its next target.
Bai Shi gripped his halberd with both hands and swung it in a wide arc. The few Misbegotten charging at the front were either sliced in two at the waist by the axe blade or disemboweled by the spear tip.
But more Misbegotten had already swarmed Bai Shi from all sides.
Bai Shi poured all his remaining mana into the halberd and stomped his foot down hard.
A raging storm erupted from thin air, not only blocking the Misbegotten's advance but also inflicting immense casualties.
Blades of wind peeled away the Misbegotten's skin, inch by inch, revealing the ghastly white bone beneath.
Splinters of bone, whipped up from the ground by the tempest, shot out like shrapnel, carrying the resentment of their former owners. They pierced deep into the Misbegotten's bodies, and the unlucky ones were struck in vital spots.
This single move left several Misbegotten dead on the spot and over a dozen more grievously wounded.
Bai Shi knew his own power was insufficient to unleash such a violent storm; the Stormhawk Ancient King had lent his aid, controlling the air currents.
That was right. Castle Morne had once been part of the Stormhawk King's domain. He was surely enraged to see his former territory defiled by creatures like the Misbegotten.
Although the first wave of Misbegotten had been crushed, more and more of them poured out from within the castle.
Hulking, scaly Misbegotten leaped down from the ramparts, winged ones circled overhead, and swarms of common Misbegotten rushed out from every room.
The number of enemies was far greater than in the game, and they were calling for reinforcements from even farther away.
But Bai Shi didn't panic. He pulled out his Flask of Cerulean Tears and took a swig, his mana instantly replenished.
"Come on, you beasts. I'll make you scream and cry and regret the day you were ever set free."
Edgar sat on a long bench, looking at the townspeople gathered in the room, feeling waves of helplessness and exhaustion wash over him. He hadn't rested since the day before.
The rebellion had happened too suddenly. With a terrifying roar, the Misbegotten all over the castle went berserk.
They wielded whatever weapons they could find and began to madly slaughter the people of the castle.
At first, it was just tools like woodcutter's axes and hammers. But when they stormed the armory, the situation grew far more dire.
As a remote stronghold, Castle Morne was large, but its military strength was not formidable.
It served more as a training ground for Lord Godrick's soldiers.
However, after the Tarnished returned to the Lands Between, Lord Godrick had transferred away many of the soldiers.
This left the castle with only a daily patrol of a dozen men and a standing garrison of just over thirty.
Against an external enemy, they could have easily withstood an army of several hundred, thanks to Castle Morne's unique terrain and defensive equipment.
But faced with an internal rebellion, Edgar couldn't even relay his orders effectively, let alone quell the uprising.
The castle's inhabitants couldn't be warned to take shelter in time, and there weren't enough soldiers to protect them. In the end, they were dragged away by the Misbegotten, one by one.
Edgar had done his utmost, mustering the soldiers as quickly as he could, but in the end, he'd only managed to save a hundred or two.
Despair and fear hung over the survivors. Watching them weep, Edgar buried his face in his hands.
Though he was a skilled warrior, having inherited the prowess of a Banished Knight from his father, he was powerless against hundreds of Misbegotten.
His soldiers had suffered heavy casualties. Now, only a dozen men remained who could still fight, and they were all posted on guard outside the room.
All he could do now was guard this room and the few remaining townspeople.
*I wonder how Irena is doing...*
He had sent the patrol with Irena and another group of people out of the castle to call for help. In reality, he wasn't expecting a rescue. He believed Castle Morne was doomed; by the time Lord Godrick's army arrived, there likely wouldn't be a soul left alive.
He only needed them to get Irena out of the castle safely. It was his selfish wish as a father.
A young soldier burst in, panting for breath.
"What's wrong? Are the Misbegotten attacking?!"
Edgar shot to his feet, grabbing the halberd beside him.
"No! There's someone outside, someone who came from beyond the walls! They're fighting the Misbegotten!"
Edgar was astonished. *Could it really be reinforcements?*
"How many of them are there?"
"Only one, but I'm sure there must be others coming behind him!"
Edgar's heart sank. If there really were others, why would one person come up alone?
One person against hundreds of Misbegotten was just one more corpse for the pile.
Edgar gritted his teeth and ordered the young soldier:
"You and the other soldiers stay put. Guard the people here. I'll go out to meet him myself."
Someone had come alone to aid Castle Morne. As its castellan, he couldn't just stand by and watch him die. That would be too dishonorable.
With the remaining soldiers on guard, the Misbegotten wouldn't be able to break in for a while. He would go out and fight beside that brave warrior. It would be good to take a few more Misbegotten down with him before he died, just to relieve the pressure on the men here.
Edgar didn't expect to return alive. To die in battle alongside that unknown warrior was the only thanks he could offer.
After refusing the young soldier's plea to join him, Edgar charged out, halberd in hand.
As he ran through the corridors, he saw that the Misbegotten, who had been everywhere before, had vanished. Edgar knew they must have all been drawn toward the lone fighter.
*You have to hold on...*
But when he looked down from the ramparts, he was stunned.
That unknown warrior was bathed in blood; Edgar couldn't tell if it was his own or that of the Misbegotten.
The surrounding Misbegotten corpses were too numerous to count, and all of them had been torn to pieces.
At this moment, he held a scaly Misbegotten by the hair with one hand and wielded an iron chopper—the kind the Misbegotten themselves used—in the other.
Ignoring the gashes its claws were tearing into his body, he hacked away, blow by blow, severing the scaly Misbegotten's head.