Elden Ring: The Light Beyond Grace Chapter 105 12: The Honored One

With practiced ease, Lucian clasped lina's hand.

Even though she already knew of his strange gift—that power which multiplied the runes he gained fivefold—she still drew a sharp breath when she glimpsed the ocean of runes coursing within him.

"One million… two hundred and eighty thousand?!" she exclaid.

Lucian nodded. After living in this world for so long, he had learned to roughly count the number of runes housed within his body.

The tally made sense. After felling Morgott's shade, he had activated the Fivefold rune gain.

Morgott's shade had yielded 250,000 runes.

The assorted knights and soldiers added another 40,000.

The Tree Sentinel and his steed gave 100,000.

And Godrick… Godrick had been the true bounty; 750,000.

Perhaps it was because his body had been stitched together with fragnts of Godwyn's flesh. Or perhaps such was the asure of all demigods. Either way, Lucian judged that the value of a demigod's life seed to rest in that range. Without the fivefold blessing, Godrick's soul alone was worth 150,000 runes—already ten tis the worth of Morgott's shade.

On top of that, there had been a Rembrance, condensed from the Erdtree after Godrick's fall.

Ordinarily, such a Rembrance could be brought to Enia to exchange for a weapon, spell, or incantation born of the foe's might. But Lucian had shattered it imdiately under the rune multiplier, gaining another 100,000.

Still, he knew well what power he had discarded.

For in this world, Rembrances were not just tokens. They were battle-echoes carved into mory by the Erdtree itself. If one did not consu them for runes, one could instead sink one's consciousness into the mory and re-enact that very battle, clashing endlessly with a foe long defeated. It was a profound gift, a way to hone oneself against legendary might, even learning sorceries or incantations from the echoes themselves.

But the flaw was fatal.

The Erdtree rembered battles exactly as they had occurred. And the Lucian who had slain Godrick had wielded the overwhelming strength of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow. That was the standard inscribed in the Rembrance. Which ant that if he trained within it, the foes would always rise to that impossible height.

He could gain nothing from it.

So in the Rembrance, he had simply indulged himself—testing new techniques, cutting Godrick down in countless ways.

A single storm he summoned could have erased Stormveil from the cliffs entirely. A single Lion's Claw could have cleaved the mountain beneath the castle into two.

It had been exhilarating—like the joy of mowing down endless enemies in gas of his forr life. But in the end, he crushed the Rembrance in his hands, turning it into runes that would strengthen him for the battles to co.

He had also consud the runes gifted by the Fingers this ti—though they were far fewer, only 110,000.

All told, he now bore 1,390,000 runes within him.

—

He closed his eyes and began to distribute them.

First, Vigor. Without hesitation, he raised it to forty. Health was truth—truth of survival.

Then, Mind. Two points more, putting it to twenty-one. Endurance: three points, past twenty as well. Strength: five points, bringing it to twenty-nine. Dexterity he left untouched.

And then—the rest, all the rest—he poured into Intelligence.

From a pitiful nine… up to thirty.

No longer the "nine-intelligence fool," as he once mocked himself. Now, his mind burned bright.

Of course, it was not done without purpose.

He wanted to learn magic. And he had teachers waiting: Sellen, Thops. Both could teach him directly.

Living in the Lands Between for so long, he had realized magic was interwoven with nearly everything—sorceries, incantations, even weapon arts. To simply wield them without understanding would never suffice. He needed to unravel their common threads, their divergences, their origins.

And there was one who had already done so: Godfrey's knight, Latenna's kin—Rogier. He had reshaped storm-based arts into sorceries. If Lucian followed that path, Stormveil itself might one day field an entire battalion of sorcerers.

Perhaps even new sorceries of their own creation.

A daring thought crossed his mind. If his mastery grew deep enough… could he, like Radagon, unravel sorceries and incantations with his bare hands, dispelling them as if they were mist?

For now, one truth was certain: his next destination was Liurnia of the Lakes. And there, at Raya Lucaria, battle itself would be his greatest teacher.

"To cut my way through the Academy with magic… that will be entertaining," he murmured, a grin tugging at his lips.

When the flow of runes at last subsided, his body pulsed with newfound strength.

His attributes now stood as follows:

[Radagon's Scarseal Equipped]

Vigor: 43

Mind: 21

Endurance: 25

Strength: 32

Dexterity: 25

Intelligence: 30

Faith: 9

Arcane: 7

Level 115—already taking the shape of a balanced warrior-scholar.

He exhaled, releasing lina's hand. A reckless urge rose in him, to declare aloud like so ani overarching protagonist; "Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honored one," But he laughed, dismissing it. He doesn't want to be bisected horizontally.

—

Far away, in Liurnia.

Within a hidden tower, Ranni the Witch stood by a window, gazing out into the storm-wracked distance.

From here, Stormveil was little more than a dark silhouette cloaked in clouds. But she had heard the whispers, carried swiftly to her ears:

The great pillar of light days prior had been wrought by Stormveil's new lord, in his battle against Godrick.

A Tarnished astride a spectral steed nad Torrent had broken through Stormveil's gates, slain the Grafted, and claid the crown.

Ranni's expression softened into thought.

"Could it be him? To grow so swiftly… after so brief a eting…"

Her lips curved, almost wistful.

"Torrent, you do choose your masters well."