Cerulean Dagger Elden Ring Novels & Stories

The La Elora emblem. Ashriel slowly opened it, revealing a Handcraft Dagger. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in disbelief. “T-The two families’ treasure.” She whispered and felt her hand tremble upon touching it. The Theupholis and La Elora’s unity dagger symbolizes the unity between the two families and the two Great Empire. Handcraft Dagger with golden lion pommel, crown upper crossguard, eagle wings quillon, and crown insignia. The handle was covered with the same twelve jewels.

“Act how?” Draven moved closer, lowering his voice further. “You need to understand who you are dealing with. Your life… your brother’s life… your pack… all of it depends on knowing the truth before they strike again.” He handed her a small, folded piece of cloth. Elara unfolded it carefully. Inside was a thin dagger, black as midnight, with runes etched along the blade. “You will need this,” Draven said. “And this knowledge.” Elara’s fingers closed around the hilt. The metal was cold and familiar in her palm. She felt… ready. Almost.

I nodded continuously. "Anyways I wanted to personally give you this," He said before he brought out a cloth from his track trousers. He handed me the clothes and I opened it up. It was a dagger made from silver. The handle had a dragon carving. "The dragon of el Dorado," I said to myself. I looked up at him. Why would he get me this? It was more than the price of the Mansion. It was a dagger used by the first female assassin of crystal city. "Must have cost a fortune," I managed to say.

The Queen had said little when giving it to her—but her eyes had brimmed with something close to guilt. Carl, meanwhile, carried a pair of silver daggers—blessed by the old gods and sharpened to a whisper. No metal could match their lethality against magic-wielding enemies. The gates to the citadel loomed tall, but Cane had said the ancient aqueduct beneath the rear wall remained unguarded. “Here,” Maika whispered. She knelt by a moss-covered grate and tapped her knuckles against it. Hollow. She pressed harder—and the runes pulsed.

At the same time, a blinding flash of lightning erupted from Christine's raised left hand, consuming two zero-level spell slots to instantly cast the zero-level spell 'Flash'. The sudden flash blinded everyone, including Iber, and they could see nothing. Strangle! A dagger emerged from Christine's right wrist (see Assassin's Creed). Swoosh! The dagger, made of various magical metals including mithril, instantly sliced through Iber's neck with the strength of a fourth-level warrior. Pop! Blood spurted from the severed head, spraying Nazan the mage and the maid with it, while Christine managed to dodge it. Plop, Iber's head and the headless corpse fell to the ground at the same time.

I want to be the first person you see when that happens. Me : Why? Reece : I'm your mate. It'll be great feeling your wolf for the first time. I want to experience it with you. Me : That's not a good idea. Reece : Oh but it is, little wolf. Come on, say yes. Me : No Reece : You're hurting me Morgana. Me : I have a boyfriend. Reece : I don't acknowledge that fact. Talk about being stubborn. I'm going to get my wolf senses for the first time and I don't think it's a good idea to be around him when that happens.

“My lord Draken, I ask that you cleanse and change into more suitable attire before the ceremony.” Caelia waited for the inevitable refusal, but instead, Rhyzar simply smirked, lifting his hand in a lazy flick. A goblet of deep red wine materialized between his fingers, and he took a leisurely sip before stepping backward through the doorway—vanishing in a swirl of dark mist. The priestess, clearly choosing not to react, immediately turned back to Caelia and led her forward through the cavernous room.

She didn't even have time to turn her head. With the dagger plunged into her chest, her body staggered backward. Her breath was cut off. As warm blood trickled from her mouth and the corners of her lips, her eyes locked onto the eyes before her. "Caleb, you cursed blood..." Agness growled, her voice choked with blood. Caleb only smiled. A cold, demonic smile full of triumph. Agness's gaze slowly shifted to the dagger. She recognized it. This dagger was the soul dagger of the Sacred Rose lineage.

Blair noticed. And smiled. “You’re holding back,” Blair breathed, ducking another hit. “You’re afraid you’ll hurt them. That’s what makes you weak.” She slipped a hand under her cloak, drawing something gleaming. A dagger. The blade shimmered faintly in the light, a silver curve ending in a moonstone pommel. The air around it hummed with cold intent. Celeste’s blood ran cold. “Where did you...” Blair lunged. Celeste barely dodged the first strike, the dagger grazing her shoulder. She hit back, grabbing Blair’s wrist, forcing her backward toward the stairs. They struggled, boots slipping on shattered glass. The dagger flashed again, high, low, then high again.

Cian watches, amused, as they stagger to their feet, disoriented and glaring at the dim cave. “Your healing should’ve taken hours, not days,” Rolan growls, flexing his hands. “What was that place?” Cian tosses him a cloth bundle. “Open it.” Inside lie three weapons: a dagger with a hilt carved from antler, its blade etched with swirling runes “Storm’s Claw,” Cian calls it; a sword forged from blackened steel, its edge shimmering like starlight. And for Elowen, a recurve bow made of polished yew, its string woven from silver thread. Arrows tipped with jagged obsidian sit in a quiver.