Elden Ring: Tarnished Flame Vyke

Edgar stepped forward, his expression wary, with a shadow of resentment. "So, you intend to rule here? This castle answers to Lord Godrick. Claiming it will bring his wrath on everyone within these walls."

He lowered the greatsword, meeting Edgar's gaze evenly. "And what has Lord Godrick's rule brought you? A castle left to ruin, overrun by beasts and rebellion.

While you fight and bleed, he remains safe in his fortress, indifferent to the lives lost here."

Edgar's face hardened, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"You've defended this place tirelessly," he continued. "But Godrick has abandoned you and these people. Castle Morne deserves better. Stand with me, Edgar, and we'll rebuild. We'll fortify these walls, protect its people, and carve out a future that isn't tied to his neglect."

Edgar hesitated, the weight of the years he'd spent guarding the castle pressing on him. "I took an oath," he muttered. "To serve."

"Then serve Castle Morne and its people," he said firmly. "Not a lord who sees them as expendable. This is your chance to fulfill that oath, to make it mean something."

A long silence stretched between them before Edgar finally nodded, his shoulders sagging with reluctant acceptance. "For the sake of this castle and Irina, I'll stand with you. But if you fail, you'll answer to me."

"Understood," he replied, offering a respectful nod.

Turning to the gathered crowd, he raised his voice. "Castle Morne has a new future. Together, we'll rebuild, strengthen, and protect what is ours. No more fear. No more serving a lord who has forgotten you."

The response was quiet but steady—nods of agreement, faint murmurs of hope. Edgar remained still, his acceptance lending silent authority to the decision. Nyra, ever watchful, stayed by his side as the first signs of change began to take root.

As the crowd began to disperse, Edgar approached him once more. "If you intend to solidify your rule here, you'll need to deal with the remaining Misbegotten and beasts. Some are still scattered throughout the castle." 

"Leave them to me," he replied confidently. "I'll ensure they're no threat to our peace. Soon, this castle will truly be ours." 

Nyra smirked, crossing her arms. "You're more ambitious than I gave you credit for." 

He returned her smirk with a steady gaze. "Ambition isn't the issue. It's abandoning those who trust you—that's the real problem." 

Edgar studied him thoughtfully, his earlier skepticism softened but not fully gone. "You should know," Edgar said, voice low, "not all the nobles will take this shift kindly. They're stubborn and cling to the idea that their titles alone give them the right to rule." 

"Then they'll learn," he replied, his tone firm. "This castle won't be a haven for idle titles or empty power. If they can't serve the people, they have no place here." 

He turned to Edgar, his voice commanding. "Send soldiers to sweep the castle. Clear out every Misbegotten hiding in the shadows. This place will be secure." 

Edgar gave a respectful bow. "Yes, my lord." With a newfound sense of purpose, Edgar left to carry out the orders. 

As the courtyard emptied, silence fell, leaving him and Nyra alone amidst the faint echoes of the dispersing crowd. The weight of their conquest seemed to settle over the stone walls. 

He glanced at Nyra, whose expression was as unreadable as ever. "What do you think?" he asked after a moment. "Was it the right choice, taking this castle?" 

Nyra's gaze stayed steady, her tone cool. "Right or wrong doesn't matter," she said quietly. "What matters is power. You've claimed it. Now you have to hold it—because someone else will take it if you don't." Her eyes flicked briefly to the Grafted Blade Greatsword in his hands, its grotesque form reflecting faint light. "That weapon will remind everyone of what happens to those who falter." 

He hummed thoughtfully, then tilted his head. "Tell me, Nyra. What's your real view on all this? Do you think it's worth it, or am I wasting my time?" 

Nyra's gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. "Whatever you do," she murmured, "I'll stand by you. That's all that matters." 

"Oh, my scary knife companion," he teased, letting a small grin break through as he turned to leave. 

Nyra rolled her eyes behind her veil but followed in silence, her quiet presence a constant, unwavering shadow as he strode toward a room to rest, the first step toward cementing his rule taken. 

Nyra scoffed, a slight smirk barely tugging at the corner of her lips. "Hmph. Do I look scary to you?"

"Well," he replied, his tone teasing as he gave her an appraising look. "In that assassin's attire, with the mask and the shadows—you definitely look terrifying. But when your face is visible… that's a whole different story."

Her smirk faded slightly, but something in her eyes softened, just for a moment. "You should focus less on my face and more on keeping that castle you've claimed," she muttered, turning her gaze back to the silent stone walls around them. "This place is yours now, but it won't hold itself."

 "Oh, don't worry, Nyra. I know what I need to do."

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