Didn't he explicitly taunt her less than an hour ago to come to his temple and fight him??

...is he scared...?

"You may think yourself clever. You may think yourself righteous in your service to HIM. But you should not be so trusting of the Chained One."

In the privacy of her own thoughts, with her crown too busy howling indecipherably to talk to her, the Lamb acknowledges that she has never trusted the Chained One any farther than she could hypothetically throw it with its chains still hooked firmly to the ground. She'd be doing something else, if she had the option. She doesn't.

On the other hand, this leafy motherfucker ordered her to be dragged out of the woods and murdered over some stupid prophecy or something, and she is entirely at peace with herself regarding her desire to separate his head from his body about it.

"Oh, well. It's too late for talk. One such as you deserves no absolution. This will not end well for you."

Leshy sinks into the ground, and several cultists appear in his wake.

She's quicker on the draw this time; one Bishop is a lot easier to take than three. Is she going to have to fight him with her crown totally incapacitated? She fucking hopes not, but she will if she has to. Maybe she should keep an eye out on the way for particularly sharp sticks.

The next clearing has some pretty flowers which her crown is happy to pocket. The one after that has not only flowers but berries, which she's very glad to see since she's much less sure of her food supplies for all those followers than she would like.

The clearing after that has a pair of pedestals, one holding a figure of a heart half painted teal, the other holding a figure of a horrible gribbly grey heart covered in eyes. She picks the teal one, and tries to pay attention to what it's like. Sort of... fresh, energizing? Is this related to the tarot cards with similar motifs? She rather suspects it is. After cutting the grass around them, she moves on.

Another of those Leshy statues, full of tasty Devotion for her crown to drink. Another encounter with Clauneck, and a choice between two heart cards, the awful one and one that's full and red and admittedly does have eyes painted on it but they look like a weird stylization choice instead of like malignant growths.

"All is as it should be, as it ever was, as it always will be."

"I'm not totally sure you can hear me when I speak," she remarks, and heads out.

Bats, grass, leaf monsters, bones...

Pond!

She has so many questions.

How is his face like that? Why, with a face like that, is he out here fishing? Where did he come from??

"Hey kiddo, keep your eyes off my fishies!" he burbles. "There ain't enough for the both of us. The best fishing can be found at Pilgrim's Passage."

"...I... have no idea where that is."

"Really? Let me show you..."

He extracts a crumpled map from his pocket and tries to point out a specific bit of coast.

She's not sure she's ever actually seen a map of these lands before and certainly couldn't place any landmarks she knows about on it, but when her crown indicates that it has a fix on the location, she nods.

"See? Now get out of here!" says the Fish-erman.

Are fishfolk even real?? She's never met one before.

No, okay, he said to go, she's going.

After some more nice, uncomplicated murder, she fetches up at a glowing red archway, and steps through it.

First there's a Leshy statue - "don't mind if I do," she says, smashing it to bits with her sword and letting her crown suck out the Devotion within.

Then there's a few more clearings. More than she expected, honestly; that red arch looked like it was going to be it, and instead it seems she's wound up at one end of a long trail, not even entirely sure whether Leshy can be found at the other. Her crown seems confident, though, and it's not like she knows how to go back except by going forward, so forward she goes.

Another one of those incredibly weird birdfolk is waiting for her in a little stone-floored hut not long after that.

"Step forward," he trills, "from the swirling mists of chaos that surround. Allow me to regard you wholly."

The swirling mists of fucking what, now?

Wary, she shuffles another step or two into the little room.

"Hmm," says the stranger. "You carry the weight of ageless centuries upon such diminutive shoulders."

?????

"Yet, what is this? It seems your stature is deceiving. A weapon is naught without the hand that wields. To fell enemies, to defend honour... to break chains."

Well that sure sounded significant in a way she's not sure she likes.