Elden Ring Onyx Lord Greatsword Novels & Stories

She stopped in front of me and held up her left hand, deliberately flashing it before my eyes. On her finger was a massive ring. It was set with a flawless moonstone. Ten times larger, ten times purer than the one Slade had destroyed. "See," Rosalind's voice was soft, for my ears only. "This is the difference, Eloise. Some stones are meant to be crushed. Others are meant for a crown." I stared at the stone and replied numbly, "Congratulations. It suits you." Slade walked over, dressed in a sharp ceremonial uniform, a golden wolf head embroidered on his chest.

She wore the midnight-black gown Silas had picked, the one that looked like it was woven from the night sky itself. ​There was a knock on the door. Her four brothers entered, dressed in matching black tuxedos with silver wolf-head cufflinks. They looked like a wall of midnight. ​"One last thing," Orion said. He held a velvet box. Inside was a delicate, floating crown made of "Moon-Steel", a metal that only the Thorne line could forge. It pulsed with a soft, protective light. ​As Ryker placed the crown on her head, he leaned in and whispered, "The Ashwood Pack is watching the live broadcast from their ruins, Elara. Show them exactly what they threw away."

In his right hand, he held his runic obsidian blade, its edge crackling with black anti-magic lightning. Fifty yards away stood Lord Kaelen, the ancient founder of the Eastern Dragon-Wolf Dynasty. Kaelen was a terrifying titan of a shifter. He was almost seven feet tall and his huge form was clad in overlapping plates of ancient star-iron and crimson dragon-scales. His back sprouted four huge dragon wings made of living, solid blood-red flame, scorching the very air around him. His hair was long and threaded with silver wire, his eyes burned like twin dying stars. In his hands was The Sun-Shatterer, a gargantuan two-handed broadsword forged from the core of a fallen star.

All of the pieces of my magic were there and whole once again. Then, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a piece of onyx. It was shimmering in the glow of the two golden spheres Hellion had given me on the helicopter. I grabbed the onyx in my hand. Forcing my will on it, it turned into a sword the length of my arm. Diamond sharp on both edges. Huddled in the cavern of magic inside me, I did the only thing I could think of. I slammed the short blade into my stomach.

Corin spent days making me this gift. The thought alone still hadn’t fully settled in my chest as I carefully lifted the sword from the wooden box, my fingers tightening slightly around the hilt as I tested the weight of it in my hand. It was heavier than I expected, solid and balanced, the kind of weight that demanded respect rather than fear. The golden vines wrapped naturally around my grip, as if they had been shaped for my hand alone, and the soft pink crystals caught the morning light spilling into the room, glowing faintly as if something inside them was alive.

Royalty. My Lord’s attire had been crafted centuries ago by the blind tailors of the Moon Forge, stitched with thread laced in night-silver and lined with fabric spun from shadowmoth silk. The coat itself was deep maroon—so dark it looked black in certain light—with an underlayer of blood-gold embroidery that traced patterns of serpents and wings across the cuffs and down the spine. Twin clasps of onyx and iron sat like fangs at my chest. A high collar framed my neck, its tips like blades. Across my shoulders rested the mantle: a heavy piece of black velvet edged with ancient runes, the mark of my House glowing faintly in deep crimson at the center—a sun pierced by a sword.

Here, no lies could be spoken without pain. Orion entered alone, his cloak dusted with the salt of long travel. He dropped to one knee. “Guardian,” he said, with respect that felt ancient. “Rise,” Aria said, studying him. “Why are you here?” Orion stood and reached into a satchel. He pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth, and when he unwrapped it, Aria froze. It was a ring. Old. Carved from bone and etched with the same sigils as her sword. She whispered, “That belonged to Elaron.”

The golden armor caught the light, gleaming. She looked at herself in the mirror. Dangerous. Elegant. Like violence dressed up for a formal occasion. Perfect. "My hair," she said. Elara moved behind her, fingers working quickly. She braided Adrienne's blonde curls and wrapped them around her head in an intricate crown pattern. Not a single strand out of place. She pulled on white gloves. White boots that laced up to her knees, thick enough to protect but flexible enough to move. "My sword belt." Elara brought it from the stand, gold leather with her personal sword in its sheath. The blade a blacksmith had given her on her sixteenth birthday back in Silvara. The one she'd carried through ever

My fingers are on my chin as I crouched and looked at it. The cover or the sheath was silver with a few pints of gold, I don't understand the engravings etched on it. Because of my curiosity, I held it and released it from its sheath. Unlike other sword, its blade was bluish and silver, the handle was wood in color and the cover was glass. It was not as heavy as it look. I lifted it up and swayed it... Imagining I was a samurai fighting some bad guys. I chuckled.

Looking at the ring I had taken from the floor once more, I saw it had an electrical feeling, an aura I had never felt before. The design on the ring was light-colored, resembling more my clan's details with roses and Lily’s in diamonds with rubies. Elder Cameo speaks then, “If you concentrate on hiding the rings with your Arkin, there will be no detection of such actions, same with Young King Leonidas. We have been ordered to maintain your affair, but we cannot interfere with the ruling. We have to work to correct this into the blessing the goddess has commanded. Children return to your posts,” in all of this, Leonidas looked a bit puzzled when I came to realize what my Elder had stated ful