Chapter 187: Godrick Just Wants to Live a Peaceful Life

Godrick could feel it.

How comfortable and safe he felt while bathed in that golden radiance.

It was as if a child trapped in darkness had found the light once again.

He felt no hatred, no anger, and no despair.

Godrick felt as if he were soaking in warm water.

The golden light healed his twisted body.

Mia was now standing on the ground in front of Godrick.

When Godrick could feel his hands again, he turned his head.

Those twisted arms, formed from limbs entwined with one another, had recovered.

The ritual of Grafting had already made those limbs a part of him.

Godrick suddenly felt a sharp pang in his heart; he was in agony.

He felt so hideous at this moment, unworthy of being bathed in the light of the Erdtree.

The youth who once had soft white hair had become this monstrosity.

How long had it been since he last looked in a mirror?

Doubtless, his current appearance was both old and ugly.

Was he still the Golden Lord? With such a twisted form, was he still worthy of the Erdtree’s radiance?

In a daze, he seemed to hear the music the people of Leyndell once dedicated to the Golden Order.

Godrick gazed at the gloomy sky and opened his mouth silently; he was surrounded by both the tenderness of the Erdtree and his own pain.

After all these years, what exactly had he achieved?

Nothing at all!!!

He was almost on the verge of wailing.

“Who are you… who are you really?” he questioned feebly, lying on the ground.

Mia looked at Godrick.

“Your father, Godwyn, was my elder brother.”

Godrick heard Mia’s voice.

‘So,’ Godrick thought.

‘She is my aunt.’

Just like Malenia, she was his elder.

But Malenia…

Ah, Malenia.

Then, Mia continued.

“Stand up, Godrick. You are a scion of the golden lineage. Do you intend to lie on the ground forever?”

‘What is she saying?’ Godrick thought he had misheard.

The words weren’t ‘Kneel and kiss my toes.’

But’Stand up, scion of the golden lineage.’

He had not misheard.

Joy and pain appeared simultaneously on Godrick’s wrinkled face.

Finally, finally, finally… ‘scion of the golden lineage.’ Someone had called him that, acknowledging him.

But he still found it hard to believe.

Would someone truly show him such kindness?

After enduring the long Shattering, Godrick’s heart had closed off.

Godrick stood up and gripped the handle of his great axe once more.

However, he had no intention of swinging it again; the head of the axe rested on the ground.

“You say you are my father’s sister…” Godrick spoke again, asking with distrust, “But I do not know you.”

“But I know you, I am very familiar with you, Godrick,” Mia countered. “Do you think my Erdtree grace is fake?”

No, that couldn’t possibly be fake.

Godrick shook his head inwardly.

But, an elder he had never seen before?

It was indeed somewhat beyond Godrick’s comprehension.

From the beginning of the Shattering War until now, it hadn’t been decades, nor centuries.

It had been thousands of years of continuous war, until all the Shardbearers lacked the capital to continue fighting.

Why would a demigod be unknown before the Shattering War, only to suddenly appear in the guise of a Tarnished after the war had lasted for so long?

Godrick instinctively doubted her motives; even though she had used the power of the Erdtree to heal him, he didn’t dare believe that in the era of the Shattering War, he would receive such kindness.

Once, everyone looked down on him for his lack of strength. His weakness meant he couldn’t protect himself in the capital, forced him to cower in Stormveil, and prevented him from even shielding the people who followed him, let alone returning to his homeland.

Godrick morbidly craved recognition, even going so far as to challenge powerful enemies far beyond his strength, only to harvest humiliation in the end.

This made it difficult for him to believe that there was someone in this world with power far exceeding his own who would show him kindness.

“Don’t you want to go home?” Mia asked in return.

The girl bent down and picked up Godrick’s crown, which had fallen to the ground.

She gently wiped away the dust from it.

She held the crown forward.

“Put it back on. I am your elder, and I will take you home. This is what I ought to do.”

Godrick stared at the crown.

His lips trembled, and his gaze moved back and forth between Mia and the crown in her hand.

“You’re giving it to me?”

“Yes,” Mia replied.

She did not lower the hand holding the golden crown.

Perhaps this didn’t represent much.

Because this crown was originally worn by Godrick.

But at the very least, it could signal an attitude.

That was what Mia thought.

She gave Godrick a small smile.

Godrick looked at that smile.

It was as if that smile could pierce through countless years.

So peaceful and friendly. It was just like the smile in his memory—the smile his father gave when his brother, Godefroy, tried to take the crown from his father’s hands.

Since then, Godrick had a longing in his heart—a longing for someone else to hand the crown to him.

Not a throne he had snatched, stolen, or used to deceive himself, but a coronation of recognition.

He hoped to gain strength, return home, and live up to his lineage.

And now, an elder had presented that recognition before Godrick.

“You really… want to give it to me?”

At this moment, despite his massive frame, Godrick seemed incredibly small before Mia.

He tested the waters humbly.

“Do you want me to put it on for you personally?” Mia tilted her head.

She felt that Godrick’s reaction might be a bit excessive.

Then, she thought.

This wasn’t a game; perhaps the Godrick here had endured more pain than she knew.

That was why he acted so flamboyantly when kindness appeared.

What Godrick wanted was perhaps just some gentle treatment from an elder.

Morgott didn’t know how to love; as the last king, Morgott couldn’t do more, because Godrick’s brother had once been someone who defied him.