Although he was surprised by how decisively Aoko acted, the Tarnished—now seasoned and tested by countless ordeals—could understand why she did so.
Because even during his conversation with Shabriri, his instincts were already warning him—Shabriri was an extremely dangerous individual.
"What's the deal with that guy?" Tarnished said as he sheathed the Carian Knight's Sword. "And this talk about me sacrificing Melina... like that would ever happen."
"Have you ever heard of the Frenzied Flame?" Aoko asked him. "Those who pray using yellow flames... Their power is, in a way, contagious."
"Frenzied Flame..." Tarnished crossed his arms, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he frowned in thought. "I once passed through a strange village. Atop a tower there, a massive yellow fireball was burning... If I got too close, I felt my sanity slipping away."
"Exactly!" Aoko raised a finger. "There's no doubt that village had summoned the Frenzied Flame. It's an extremely dangerous power."
"The outer god behind the Frenzied Flame has only one purpose—to burn everything in this world," Aoko continued. "So in the Lands Between, only those at the very bottom, those suffering the most, would ever turn to the Frenzied Flame to destroy everything."
"Then... is that Shabriri one of those people?" Tarnished asked. "He seems... a bit off."
"He's not one of them," Aoko shook her finger in denial. "Shabriri might have been the first to spread the Frenzied Flame in the Lands Between. But he didn't do it out of suffering—he was born evil, harboring deep malice toward everyone in this world."
"As for Melina, you'll have to ask her yourself," Aoko continued. "But remember this—if you ever accept the Frenzied Flame, it means you'll be forever separated from Melina. You'll never see her again."
"...I understand," Tarnished nodded solemnly. "I'll do everything I can to stay away from the Frenzied Flame. And I won't let Melina sacrifice herself. I swear it."
After giving her warning, Aoko left him and headed deep into the snowy mountains in search of the Heretical Rise that held the Star Rain scroll.
Before leaving, she gave Tarnished a rune stone and told him that once he reached the snowfield, he should destroy the stone. That would send her a signal, and she would teleport over immediately—saving them the trouble of searching for the remaining half of the Haligtree Secret Medallion.
Tarnished watched as Aoko flew off gracefully, feeling a surge of envy in his heart. If only he could fly, he wouldn't have to wind and weave through treacherous paths so much to reach his destination.
After packing up his gear, Tarnished blew his whistle and summoned his spirit steed, Torrent. He patted his old friend's back, then leaped up and mounted him. Holding the reins and looking off into the distance, the biting cold wind hit his face—but neither he nor Torrent would back down from such a challenge.
"Don't go making any strange decisions, Melina," he muttered to himself. "Wait for me—I'll soon gather enough Great Runes..."
— Scene Transition —
"...I truly didn't expect that the so-called Lord of Grace would be you," Messmer's voice was filled with icy murderous intent. "A horned one... dares to claim the title of Lord of Leyndell?"
"...Arrogant fool!" Morgott—gripped his staff tightly as he sat upon the throne symbolizing the Elden Lord. "Yet another traitor, driven by foolish ambition, dreaming of becoming Elden Lord?"
"...Back then, my mother ordered me to exterminate every last one of the horned ones," Messmer clenched his flaming spear. "...But I failed her. Years of negligence allowed some horned ones to survive in hiding. And now, one of them dares usurp the Elden Lord's throne while my mother is trapped?"
"...I will not disappoint you again, Mother," Messmer's aura surged as he spoke in a low voice, "To all who dare stand tall—meet your death... Perish in the flames of Messmer!"
"To defile the throne with profane flame...!" Morgott growled through gritted teeth, "Abandoned child, face your cursed death before me—Morgott, the Last King!"
Compared to Morgott's methodical and structured fighting style, Messmer's aggressive and overwhelming approach was far more ferocious and agile. His spear, entwined with snake-like flames, swept toward Morgott, forcing him into a defensive posture.
Yet Morgott, who had repelled Radahn's sieges multiple times, had the advantage of Leyndell's terrain and its powerful defenders. The fact that he was able to withstand Radahn—known as the strongest demigod—was a testament to his formidable strength.
Now wielding a massive hammer forged from Golden Runes in one hand and a cursed sword in the other, Morgott's defense was airtight. Though being pushed back by Messmer's relentless assault, he held firm against the onslaught of Marika's firstborn.
But in terms of battlefield experience and martial prowess, even Morgott's talent couldn't compare to Messmer, who had led countless holy crusades.
What's more, surrounding him were flame knights and Rellana, ready to intervene the moment Messmer found himself in danger.
As the battle dragged on, cracks began to appear in Morgott's defenses. Burnt wounds from Messmer's flaming spear started to accumulate on his body—non-lethal, but enough to slow him down and worsen his already difficult situation.
In a desperate move, Morgott detonated his golden rune hammer to force Messmer back temporarily. But even though Messmer retreated, the serpentine flames around him slithered toward Morgott like living creatures.
Burned and in agony, Morgott let out a furious roar. A massive burst of Grace erupted from him, and a storm of golden swords rained down, striking indiscriminately at all enemies on the battlefield—including the flame knights and Rellana.
Messmer spun his spear deftly, parrying the golden swords one by one. But there were simply too many—several managed to pierce through and wound him.
However, Morgott—having forcibly unleashed his power—was in far worse condition. His body, already battered by Messmer, was now covered in gushing, torn wounds.
Yet to Messmer's surprise, Morgott, though battered and bloodied, seemed to regain his full combat strength. How was this possible...?
Upon closer observation, Messmer noticed that the broken, ground-down horns on Morgott's body were rapidly regenerating—especially the severed horn on his head. Some even grew like bamboo, new horns bursting through the old stumps.