Elden Ring: Advent of the Game-Given (SI/Multiverse)

Below the Shunning Grounds, the tunneled sewers were silent, occasionally disrupted by the local wildlife, as nature did what it does best. Rodents ran amok in the upper levels, never daring to go deeper in fear of the predators that lurked below.

Wading through the pipes and tunnels strewn with grime and filth, they searched for prey to sate their empty stomachs, most not even having the fortune to come across anything edible. 

In contrast, those who did had to fight tooth and nail against their prey, and sometimes their own kin, so that they could avoid the pain that came with starvation.

Unknown to them, the sound of grunts and clanging rang out in an isolated part of the sewer system. The sounds were loud enough that anyone nearby could pick them up, yet there was no one present in the near vicinity, no man or creature.

However, if anyone did stumble upon the source of the noise, they'd bear witness to two Omen present right in the heart of the source.

In fact, they were the source of the noise.

The first was the bigger and stronger of the two, gripping a crude axe double the length of his forearm. Horns jutted out of parts of his body, and he was mostly bare except for the clothing covering his sensitive parts.

On the contrary, the other Omen was much smaller and skinnier, wearing a dirty cloak covering his entire figure. His face was the only thing not covered, with horns jutting out mostly from his forehead. Besides his size setting him apart, he also had a tail with horns growing from it, hidden underneath his cloak.

Unlike the larger Omen, he only held a dagger in hand–a twisting horn similar to an Omen's.

The smaller one–Morgott, lunged at the larger Omen, dagger poised to strike at his abdomen, only to be blocked by the flat of his axe. 

Right after, the larger Omen lashed out with a kick, which Morgott barely dodged, twisting his body as he spun in place, trying to retaliate with a backhand strike aimed at the Omen's outstretched calf while his horned tail snapped towards the knee in an attempt to cripple him.

Faster than he could react, the Omen retracted his leg and reached out with his free arm, trying to grab Morgott by the neck.

Ducking under the arm, he swung upwards, thrusting the dagger towards the Omen's arm, trying to pierce it.

His thrust was stopped short as the Omen unexpectedly threw out another kick, which he couldn't react to in time. His large foot connected with his chest, sending him sliding on the grimy floor.

The hit dazed him, delaying his reaction as he saw the sharp head of the axe descending on him, inches away from cleaving him in half.

Panic filling his veins, he did the only thing that came to mind and used one of his skills to get him out of the predicament.

One moment, he was lying underneath the descending axe head; the next, he was gone, appearing a few meters away in the exact same position, his body lying on the ground.

A few moments passed, but the larger Omen didn't give chase after him. He just stood in place; the axe held a few inches above the ground, where he was moments prior.

He was staring at Morgott–annoyance visibly etched on his face as he let out an angry grunt. It took a few moments to register what he'd done wrong, and Morgott couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh.

Raising his hands in surrender, he spoke for the first time since their clash had begun, "Alright, alright, twas my loss."

The Omen's expression didn't change, his brows furrowing even further as he made gestures with his hands, trying to communicate with the smaller Omen.

"Tis an instinctive reaction! If I see a blade coming for my life, doth thou expect for me to just lay about and let myself be killed?" Morgott retorted, his tone miffed.

The large Omen raised his hands in frustration and began to walk away from Morgott, his steps purposely heavy as he stomped out of the tunnel they were in.

"Gah, thou fight like thy life depends on it! How am I to know which strikes are lethal and which art not?!"

The Omen didn't stop to hear what the boy had said, his figure a distance away as he left the tunnel.

As there'd be no point in shouting any further, Morgott quieted down and let out a heavy breath, clearly irritated with the other Omen's actions.

"Training? Training my ass. If anything, it feels more like he's trying to kill me," he muttered under his breath, putting his dagger away as he tried wiping off the dirt and grime off his cloak.

His days had been filled with dungeon diving and "training" with Garm the past week.

Seriously, what the hell was Gordon thinking when he suggested this idea…

The thought passed through his mind, remembering the event that transpired a week ago.

X – X – X – X – X – X

[Morgott POV - A week ago]

"Say what now?" I asked, my eyes laser-focused on him as I cleaned my ears to ensure I heard that right.

My reaction brought a small smile to his face, which he quickly wiped off. He then repeated what he had said a second earlier.

"I said that Garm wants to train you both for a little while."

I heard snorting from the person standing beside him, but I ignored that as I stared at him with my mouth open, clearly taken aback by his words.

When I woke up today and came to Gordon's "crib," he seemed to behave awkwardly while ruminating over something. I didn't expect that something to be… this.

"No, no, I heard thee clearly… but why?" I asked again, trying to find out the reason behind his… strange request.

"A while after you left, I had a… talk with Garm about how he acted back then. Safe to say, he does feel bad about what he did and wants to make amends."

"Uh-huh…" I nodded, half-believing his words as my eyes moved to one beside him.

Lo-and-behold, a bored-looking Garm, stood sluggishly; his axe settled on his shoulder as he did everything but pay attention to what was happening before him.

Sure, sure, he definitely feels bad… definitely not.

"Gordon, I trust thee, and I know thou doth not want us to get off on the wrong foot, but look hard and close beside thee and tell me if this… harebrained buffoon truly feels an ounce of regret for his actions."

My words, or rather my insult, caught his attention. He fixed me with a pointed look and responded with an incensed grunt. However, a sudden elbow from Gorfon got him to pipe down. With a heavy sigh, he spoke, doing his best to convince me.

"Look, it's fine if you don't get along. I understand why you don't want to look at his ugly mug for a second more than you have to," he said, unabashedly insulting Garm. "But you should still let him train you. At least that way, you won't have to worry about bein' threatened by this jerk or anyone else."

Even after all that was said, I still didn't feel inclined to be anywhere near that guy. I could get stronger through the dungeons instead since that way, I'd also be getting Credits and meat alongside EXP to level myself up.

[It would be wise to take him up on the offer.]

Et tu, Rusty?

[It would be the best course of action. If you stick only to the dungeon currently available to you, there is no doubt you will level up and become stronger. However, it would help you gain the experience you lack if you were to fight against a humanoid opponent who can think for itself.]

I mean, you're not wrong…

I puffed out a heavy sigh, annoyed with the predicament I found myself in. 

I wanted to stay stubborn and refuse the utterly crooked olive branch held out towards me, but I couldn't deny the truth in Rusty's words.

Massaging my forehead in frustration, I felt a finger repeatedly poke me in the back. Looking behind me, I called out.

"Sister?"

A fidgeting Mehg stood in place, her eyes occasionally wandering toward the large Omen, who had almost become her executioner.

Actually, now that I think about it–isn't Destined Death currently sealed away?

Usually, people die when they are killed, but that isn't the case in this situation.

What would happen to me if I died? Considering I'm an Omen, there's a very high chance of my soul being rejected by the Erdtree. Would I be forced to wander the lands as an incorporeal being for eternity?

I shook my head, driving away the stray thoughts distracting me. I needed to focus on what was before me instead of getting lost in my thoughts.

"Thou shouldst acce't, 'or it wouldst hel' us 'ecome stronger," she advised me, her words tinged with a hint of encouragement.

I tried to argue, but she cut me off preemptively as she pleaded, her voice a hushed whisper.

"'Rithee?"

I gazed at her face, finding no doubt or uncertainty present but only a hardened resolve.

There was nothing I could say in return. If even she wanted me to accept, then who am I to deny an opportunity to get stronger?

Respecting her choice, I decided to–albeit reluctantly–accept his offer, or rather, his "apology."

But the first thing I saw when I faced him made me want to just turn around and walk out of the room. Here I was, trying to look past what happened before, yet he was in his own little world, inspecting the sharp end of his axe.

Deep breaths, Morgott, deep breaths.

Tensely moving towards him, I deliberately took heavy steps, which caused him to stop what he was doing and actually pay attention to me.

A few suspenseful seconds ticked by as I arrived in front of him. We stared at each other, neither of us saying a word–though it's not like he could talk since he was mute–before I opened my mouth and let the words flow.

"I… We shalt accept thy 'apology' on the condition that thou traineth us in the ways of combat. Make no mistake; dispel any expectations of goodwill or friendly relations developing between us, for there shalt be no such thing."

As I was done delivering my spiel, I gestured for a handshake to seal the deal, but all I received was a contemptuous snort as an answer.

Tch, arrogant fuck.

I rolled my eyes at him and walked away without waiting for a response.

"Wait, you're not gonna eat?" Gordon asked concernedly, seeing me walk toward the room's exit.

"Not hungry, I shalt eat later," I answered half-heartedly as I left the room.

I needed space to clear my head and tweak some of my plans for the week.

Although today's events were completely unexpected and left me a bit mentally drained, I can't entirely say they were bad. Even if I have to put up with that prick, I'll gain valuable experience that could help me once I unlock the next dungeon.

However, this does bring up the question, during training, if I were to… "accidentally" hit him in the nuts, could I be blamed for it?

Probably not, right? Since it would be in the heat of the moment.

Hehehehe, just wait, you fucking porcupine-looking-ass, I'll have my revenge.

X – X – X – X – X – X

[3rd POV]

If anyone came across Morgott at the current moment, they'd witness a young child cackling, his manic expression ugly enough to rival that of a certain civil engineer from another world.

Out of nowhere, the sound of growling invaded, causing the cackling to cease as the boy gazed down at his own stomach, embarrassment taking over his face.

"Uhhh... maybe I should've eaten before I left... eh, no biggie."

Saying so, the boy walked off with plans brewing in his little head. 'What were the plans?' one might wonder.

Find out in the next chapter of Advent of the Game-