Mohg had just awoken from Miquella's cocoon.
It was another day, and still Miquella had not stirred.
But Mohg was not discouraged. Miquella was merely dreaming.
Mohg had already filled Miquella's cocoon with cursed blood; he would use this cursed blood to alter Miquella's gestation process.
When the cursed blood truly saturated Miquella, that would be the moment Miquella awakened as the god of the blood dynasty!
At that time, Mohg and Miquella would be formally joined as god and kingly consort.
Mohg would supplant the Golden Dynasty that had brought him misery and suffering, establishing the blood dynasty of him and Miquella—the Mohgwyn Dynasty!
Lost in visions of that wondrous dynasty, Mohg was deeply entranced.
This was his time for fantasy.
During his recent communion with Miquella, he had sensed the death of a Mohgwyn Dynasty Knight who had been granted his cursed blood.
The death of an ordinary Bloody Finger was a common occurrence; after all, they were not particularly strong.
Sending them to hunt the Tarnished inevitably led to some being killed in turn.
Such matters were trivial. Mohg considered these ordinary Bloody Fingers little more than consumables.
If they died, they died. A small thing like that could not be allowed to disturb his precious time with Miquella.
But a Mohgwyn Dynasty Knight was different.
They were the true nobility of the blood dynasty, the face of his burgeoning kingdom. Mohg had promised them they would witness the rise of the dynasty together.
Even if they were to die, it must be Mohg himself who disemboweled them, hanging their bodies over the blood marsh to drain them of the cursed blood they had nurtured.
To die outside was a disgrace to the Mohgwyn Dynasty!
Furthermore, the Mohgwyn Dynasty Knights had all been empowered by witches and granted special weapons and incantations. Even if ambushed, they should have been able to escape. They could not be killed so easily.
Mohg wanted to see for himself who dared to oppose his dynasty. Then he would decide whether to kill them or make them his subordinate.
Thus, through the cursed blood that permanently imbued the Reduvia, Mohg formed an eye and found the one who had killed his knight.
It was another Tarnished. He looked very young, but Mohg could feel the immense power within him.
Among all the Tarnished, he had only seen two who were stronger: his own dynasty's Eleonora, Violet Bloody Finger, and the Old Man.
Judging by power alone, Mohg determined this one was only slightly weaker than those two. However, Mohg had immense faith in his subordinates' skills.
Those two were his most favored retainers and were destined to become pillars of his new dynasty.
No, that was wrong. There was another Tarnished far more powerful than this one.
But just thinking of that person filled Mohg with endless disgust and resentment.
Come to think of it, this Tarnished seemed to carry a similarly detestable aura, one that reminded him of his unfathomable, cold, and ruthless mother.
He even sensed the same magic that had imprisoned them in the sewers long ago.
Mohg pondered for a moment, then let out a sinister laugh. He hated this one.
"I was going to send someone to deal with this, but I've suddenly changed my mind."
He would kill this insect himself. It was, after all, as easy as lifting a finger.
Mohg swung his sacred spear, and in the distance, within the deepest part of the dynasty's blood marsh, a figure slowly emerged.
As time passed, the figure grew more solid, becoming an exact replica of Mohg.
This was Mohg's unique clone, formed from cursed blood and Runes.
"It's been a long time since I've made a clone. I'm a bit out of practice."
Mohg mused aloud. Since learning this trick from his brother Morgott, he had used it only a few times.
These clones shared his thoughts, and upon dissipation or death, all they had seen and sensed would return to the main body.
Their power was determined by the amount of Runes and cursed blood invested. This clone possessed a level of power equivalent to half of Mohg's own.
Even though its sacred spear was a mere replica, unable to channel the spear's true power, a clone with half the strength of a powerful demigod was, in Mohg's estimation, more than enough to dignify this Tarnished.
Then, Mohg raised his sacred spear high. Ripples in space emanated from its tip, establishing a connection with a distant god beyond this world.
Mohg had awakened the Formless Mother.
Before long, a crimson ring of light appeared upon Mohg's body.
It was the Great Rune he had claimed after the Shattering of the Elden Ring.
But Mohg was not content with the Great Rune's original power. With the aid of the Formless Mother, he had replaced a part of its law.
Now, Mohg's Great Rune was a perfect reflection of his soul, granting him dominion over the law of blood.
However, modifying the Great Rune with the Formless Mother's power came at a price: he had to channel her power alongside his own to fully unleash its potential.
Under the combined might of Mohg and the Formless Mother, the clone gradually vanished into the blood.
At the same time, in Bai Shi's room, blood spilled out from the ceramic pot, pooling on the floor.
A tall figure emerged from the pool of blood.
Strangely, the entire process was utterly silent.
Through the connection of cursed blood, Mohg's clone had descended beside Bai Shi.
Mohg lowered his sacred spear. Since the clone had been sent, all that remained was to await news of the Tarnished's execution.
Mohg dissolved back into blood and returned to Miquella's cocoon.
Crushing an insect to amuse himself was a fine diversion. Now, he would continue his sweet communion with his god.
Melina's urgent cry echoed in Bai Shi's ears.
At the same moment as Melina's warning, Bai Shi instantly sensed the murderous intent that had suddenly appeared in the room.
Bai Shi lunged forward, rolling to dodge a sweeping spear and grabbing his twin swords from the wall in the same motion. Get full chapters from 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦•𝘯𝘦𝘵
He spun around, his eyes widening in disbelief at what he saw.
A towering black form with massive, gnarled horns covering its head, adorned in gold and red over black robes, wielding a massive golden trident-spear.
It was one of the demigods, the "Lord of Blood"—Mohg!
'Dammit, what's going on? How did Mohg just appear out of nowhere in my room?!'
A cold sweat beaded on Bai Shi's brow. If not for Melina's warning, he wouldn't have sensed a thing.
In the spirit world, Melina too felt a surge of fear. She hadn't noticed Mohg at first, either.
It was only when the clone had fully materialized that a strange sense of familiarity washed over her.
It was the same feeling she'd had when she met the witch who had given Bai Shi the Spirit Calling Bell—a familiar sensation, though she had no idea why.
Melina had turned just in time to see Mohg's clone swinging his greatspear at Bai Shi.
Thankfully, she had been just in time.
"Oh? To think you could react to my ambush. You are quite the impressive one."
Seeing Bai Shi dodge his attack, Mohg couldn't help but offer a word of praise.
Bai Shi said nothing, instead turning and bolting for the door.
He was currently unarmored, with only his twin swords in hand. A direct confrontation with Mohg would be foolish.
Though based on his knowledge of Mohg, this had to be a clone, it was still an extremely dangerous foe.
He had to get Erlisa to back him up to have any chance against it.
He also needed to warn the others to evacuate; they would be of no help in a battle of this level.
But in an instant, blood spread across the room like a spiderweb, sealing the door shut.
"Heh heh, I did not say you could leave."