JohnnyZ
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[Elden Ring: My Ending] Chapter 53
🕑 Added 2025-03-12 11:52:19 +0000 UTCStormveil Castle had changed even more since his last visit. The reused asset of Maliketh had helped resolve the curse problem, allowing the castle’s servants to start proper rebuilding without the fear that everything would just collapse again. Moreover, the sun had risen above the castle for the first time in ages, transforming its entire atmosphere with its mere presence.
Kosta even thought he saw occasional smiles appearing on the lifeless faces of the living dead.
That was inspiring in its own way.
However, his mood was somewhat dampened by the sudden appearance of Boc.
“Your Majesty!” the demi-human desperately cried out. “You’ve grown! The clothes I've prepared won’t fit anymore! How could this happen—I worked so hard!”
Before Kosta could respond, the deeply wounded Boc ran off, shouting something about his own ugliness and short-sightedness.
Watching Boc disappear into the distance, Kosta blinked.
Edgar sighed tiredly, trying to appear as dignified as possible.
“Welcome back, my lord.”
“Have you grafted someone else’s legs onto yourself, Lord Konstantin?” Gostoc asked curiously, snickering unpleasantly. “You finally figured it out!”
“You were about to go guard the gate,” Edgar reminded him, casually but firmly.
“And not greet our lord?!”
“You've greeted him. Now you can go.”
Gostoc was about to reply, but the booming laughter of Nepheli approaching them distracted him. Muttering irritably, the gatekeeper quickly left.
Konstantin noticed how all the castle servants immediately straightened their postures as soon as Nepheli passed by—even the undead! Clearly, she was far more successful at managing things compared to Kosta. Or, rather, she was actually managing them. Kenneth, shuffling behind Nepheli with slouched shoulders, made that particularly obvious.
“Lord Konstantin! When did you become so tall? Have you forgotten all about your tailor?”
Kosta blinked again.
Nepheli's laughter grew even louder.
Unlike the others, Irina couldn’t see his changes, but she could certainly feel them—she openly began to explore the equally surprised Tarnished with her hands, right in front of everyone.
“Aren’t you worried you'll become too large, Konstantin?”
There was genuine concern in the waifu’s voice. Edgar coughed awkwardly.
“I hope not,” he replied curtly, looking down at Irina’s blindfold. “I'm close to my goal now. I'll be able to help you soon.”
He was almost certain his idea would work. In the worst-case scenario, he'd just try something else.
Healing the Great dragoness was beneficial not only to her; the Tarnished was gaining valuable experience.
Irina’s mouth opened slightly in surprise before forming into a warm smile.
“I'll be waiting.”
He didn’t really need a bath—he could change his clothes at will, and all the blood and wounds had disappeared by the time he arrived at the castle. Yet this didn’t reassure his false Finger Maiden at all.
As he relaxed in the hot water, he suddenly realized this was the first proper hot bath he’d taken since arriving in the Lands Between.
Thinking it over, he realized that before this, he'd at most washed his face in random bodies of water along his journey, never particularly worrying about his comfort. It was as if his mind ignored mundane matters entirely, focused solely on his goals.
Konstantin leaned against the bath’s edge, pondering why Meli-Meli had immediately fled as soon as he started getting into the bath. She was somewhere nearby, yet clearly hiding, unwilling to show herself.
Hadn't she been completely indifferent to his nakedness during their first encounter?
Still, he strongly desired to visit merchant Kale again and pour his heart out a bit. He felt like he had a lot to talk about.
“Can't roll, can't dodge, can't block, summons won't help, glitches don't work, there are no guides, no new game plus—I don’t like these kinds of challenges…”
Melina, unexpectedly hearing genuine despair in her champion’s voice, sighed. Though inwardly admitting that a man who was too cold and rational wasn't necessarily a good thing.
Had Ranni been there with her now, remembering her father, she undoubtedly would've agreed.
Unfortunately, Ranni was currently occupied elsewhere.
Konstantin’s rest didn’t last long. Soon enough, he headed toward the astrologers.
Kosta’s presence or absence didn't particularly affect the Academy. Although the casuals had acknowledged the man’s casual superiority and submitted to him, this submission was purely formal: everyone just continued with their own research.
Unlike Stormveil Castle, which changed daily, the astrologers who still retained their sanity simply noted to themselves that they had a new lord, and if some strange, possibly half-naked man appeared at the Academy, they shouldn't attack him—in fact, they should greet him.
Fortunately, Kosta didn't have to fight his way through the entire location again.
“Recently, the queen has been feeling better,” the Carian knight shared. “We’re grateful you've decided to visit the queen, Lord Konstantin.”
The Red Wolf howled in agreement, although his howl sounded more like the whining of a beaten dog hiding behind the knight. The giant, overgrown wolf cowering behind a comparatively small knight looked rather comical from an outsider’s perspective.
He might think of himself as Radagon’s proud Red Wolf, guardian of Rennala of the Full Moon herself—but a hit to the face was still a hit to the face.
The Tarnished didn’t know what to reply to Moongrum, nor did he see any point in it. He simply nodded, heading straight toward the former boss arena.
Truthfully, due to his altered perception, Kosta no longer saw the queen as a boss at all. Rennala had never truly been a boss for the Tarnished—just a traumatized woman and, incidentally, the traumatized mother of one of the best waifus.
The queen was entirely alone, holding the amber egg, now devoid of the Great Rune. None of those she called her daughters were present.
“You came…”
Rennala didn’t even lift her eyes toward the man, continuing to gently stroke the egg. Kosta had the impression she'd been doing this most of the day, if not the entire day.
“I was wrong to take the chest,” Konstantin admitted, sitting down directly opposite her.
She no longer seemed that tall to him. In fact, the woman was now not much taller than the Tarnished himself.
Rennala raised her misty eyes toward him.
“Where did my sweetings run off to?”
“They’re hiding,” he answered calmly.
The woman’s gaze became slightly clearer, surprise showing on her face.
“Why?”
“Perhaps they’re feeling shy.”
Rennala dropped her astonished gaze back down to the amber egg, stroking it again.
“Isn’t being reborn better than the coldness of the grave?”
“I'll try to restore the normal respawn, but it might take some time,” Konstantin stated casually.
As practice had shown, he was more than capable of studying unfamiliar mechanics. He simply needed time.
Not allowing the woman to sink further into her maddening thoughts, the Tarnished retrieved the chest from his mysterious inventory. After the chest, the key followed.
Perhaps this was not just the key to the chest and to one of the best waifu’s rings, but also the key to the queen’s troubled mind.
“The key… my little Ranni…”
The queen’s reaction turned out to be far stronger than he'd expected: tears filled her eyes as she trembled, clutching the amber egg tighter.
‘No. She really is a boss, the most terrifying and dangerous one…’
Seeing the mother of a waifu—and, to some, a superior waifu herself—in tears, Konstantin felt like he'd simultaneously lost his concentration meter and had his poise shattered.
The cheat-level attacks had reached new heights. Konstantin had thought the Baleful Shadow was a dangerous enemy. How terribly mistaken he was.
Still, the key fit perfectly. Of course it did. The chest opened, revealing an old ring decorated with the image of the moon. Its owner probably never truly believed the moment would come when it’d be needed, yet hadn’t thrown it away.
Konstantin gently took the ring and, right before the queen’s eyes, began sharing his warmth with it, turning it into an enchanted object.
Apparently, all that experience hugging Fia had benefits beyond just… psychological ones.
The Tarnished intended to create similar rings for all his waifus later on, probably after completing his main quests.
“Has Knight Diallos appeared at the Academy lately? He was looking for his servant.”
Seeing how much more coherent Rennala had become as she gazed at the ring, Kosta felt it was an ideal moment to get answers to his questions.
He doubted that the queen was as ignorant or helpless as the Academy’s astrologers thought. Broken and driven insane by grief—yes—but it seemed she still had a chance for recovery.
“A knight seeking his servant…” Rennala whispered softly.
Konstantin didn’t rush her, calmly continuing his enchantment. Thanks to his practice embracing Fia, he’d learned this process wasn't exactly quick. So he was patient.
Certainly, the Tarnished was in a hurry. Probably more than anyone else in the Lands Between. Yet he still knew the importance of pauses, however rare.
“…A maiden…” she finally whispered, uncertain. “...Yes, I remember…”
She sounded as if she herself couldn’t believe she remembered something.
As he’d suspected, the astrologers had indeed saved Diallos’s maiden. Back then, when Konstantin had casually issued the vague order—even though he'd barely been able to clearly formulate his thoughts—the last thing he’d expected was for Diallos’s maiden to survive. In the original questline, she was dead from the start.
This explained why Diallos had never appeared at Volcano Manor.
Currently, nobody knew exactly where Diallos and his rescued maiden had ended up. However, given the strange quirks of fate—or whatever stood in for fate here—Kosta suspected they’d cross paths again soon.
Afterall, Jarburg was just in need of a potter(214). Perhaps he'd have to visit that settlement later, just in case.
Konstantin sighed deeply.
The list of places he needed to visit before and after completing the main quests was constantly growing.
“…I see. Thank you,” the Tarnished nodded gratefully. “I have another favor to ask.”
“You wish to be reborn?”
Rennala asked this almost instinctively.
“No,” Kosta replied calmly. “It's about someone else.”
He saw the queen’s vague confusion, and gently added, “It's about Sellen.”
“The sorceress Sellen. Do you remember her?”
The queen tilted her head slightly. From Rennala’s expression, Konstantin quickly realized she had no idea who he was talking about.
Where the exiled sorceress saw enemies everywhere among the Carian lineage, the queen herself had long since forgotten that one of the Academy’s most talented—and perhaps dangerous—sorceresses had grown right under her nose.
Sellen would’ve probably been a bit offended if she'd heard that.
“I think it’s best to show you,” Kosta frowned and disappeared.
Rennala stared blankly at the spot where Konstantin had just stood.
“You left again, my chi—”
Her voice cut off. Before her once more stood the ever-unflappable Tarnished—but this time, he was accompanied by a very much flappable Sellen, who was looking around in horror.
“W-where have you taken me, Konstantin?!”
Any trace of mischief or playfulness had vanished from her voice.
And the moment she spotted the Queen sitting across from her, towering over her by several heads, Sellen felt her Primeval stone drop straight into her boots.
“Q-Queen… What are you scheming, Konstantin?!”
Her glare was filled with barely concealed fury.
Rennala, on the other hand, unlike the exiled witch, did not see an enemy in Sellen(215).
“I did promise I’d try to help you with your problem,” Kosta said, as composed as ever.
“T-that’s not how this works!!!”
It seemed like Sellen was moments away from screaming in frustration.
She had not been prepared for a meeting with Rennala. Not like this.
“I’m in a bit of a hurry,” Kosta shrugged.
“What the hell, I could have waited!”
Desperation flickered in Sellen’s voice. All this time, she had dreamed of seizing power—imagined for years how she would one day meet the Queen on her own terms and take what she believed was rightfully hers.
And now…
Her dream had just… happened?
The Carian lineage had long since lost its power—along with any authority it once held.
If not for those foolish restrictions, Sellen would never have wanted to become Rector in the first place. But they had banned Primeval magic. Considered it too dangerous. Fools, who had turned two respected primeval sorcerers—and her—into exiles!
Rennala gazed at the tense sorceress from head to toe in quiet surprise.
Konstantin could tell she did remember her. There was recognition in the Queen’s eyes.
But something was missing.
It wasn’t just that this wasn’t Sellen’s original body. After all, they were nearly identical in appearance. So it had to be something else.
“Put on your crown,” Kosta suddenly realized.
Sellen stared at him, wide-eyed.
But his unexpectedly firm, no-nonsense tone made her obey.
A crown materialized in her hands, and, hesitantly, she placed it on her head.
The moment she donned her crown(216), Rennala’s eyes cleared, and without warning, she pulled the startled woman into a motherly embrace.
“Little one, you wished to return to my arms?”
Sellen stared up at the Queen in horror, even through her crown.
Rennala may have looked delicate despite her size, but her grip was so firm that Sellen’s bones might just…
Crunch a little.
“Konstantin… W-what’s happening?!”
“A reconciliation. Under my supervision,” Kosta replied, unbothered.
He understood that the real problem was with Sellen.
Perhaps, once, Rennala had held negative feelings toward the sorceress—deservedly so, given what the witch had been up to—but…
That time was long past.
And Konstantin wanted Sellen to understand that.
For a few more moments, Sellen struggled—already considering using magic to put an end to this whole situation.
But then, she suddenly froze.
And, just as unexpectedly, she went limp—allowing herself to sink into the Queen’s embrace.
As if she had never truly seen the state Rennala was in.
She knew the Queen was unwell. How could she not?
But knowing it from a distance and experiencing it firsthand were two entirely different things.
Being held in the arms of a sick, abandoned woman…
Even if she broke free now, even if she displayed her power, she wouldn’t feel a fraction of the satisfaction she had imagined.
She wasn’t even sure Rennala would resist.
What kind of victory would that be?
It wasn’t fair. It was just… unfair.
“…What the hell…” Sellen muttered, dazed. “You could have told me earlier…”
She trailed off the moment she saw Kosta looking like a kicked dog. His usual composure was completely gone.
“…I’m already tearing myself apart trying to keep up with everything… No one balanced these quests for time…”
He couldn’t account for everything, damn it! He didn’t have save files to retry this stuff!
Guilt hit Sellen like a well-aimed Comet Azur.
And along with it—discomfort.
Because she was being squeezed again.
This time, for real.
Tightly.
She met the Queen’s gaze once more—now stern.
“The sun tries so hard…” Rennala murmured gently, like a mother. “Sweet one, don’t be so harsh on him…”
“I-I’m sorry…” Sellen croaked.
Of all the people Konstantin had expected to get support from, his waifu’s mother was not one of them.
Melina, watching from the sidelines, suddenly felt a spark of inspiration.
It seemed she had found a real ally. Someone who could do something.
Yes. An experienced—albeit somewhat mad—Queen, a Rector of the Academy, and most importantly, a mother…
Someone who knew exactly how to handle unruly elements.
Perfect.
“I need to go,” Konstantin stood up.
Sellen’s eyes filled with silent pleading as she reached out for salvation.
But Kosta simply shook his head.
He stretched out a hand, and in a golden shimmer, a miniature copy of himself formed—similar to the ones Sellen created.
Unbothered, the tiny illusion of Konstantin leapt onto Sellen’s crown, settling on it like a king on his throne.
It was a known fact: the smaller the enemy, the stronger they were. Not an absolute rule, but still a critical one in Soulslikes.
He would go to any length to protect his waifus.
And soon he’d have to prove it, as an entire army awaited him in the capital.
An army of bosses and mini-bosses, the likes of which no Soulslike mod(217) had ever seen before. The kind of thing that even an overleveled Konstantin wouldn’t have dared to dream of—not even in his happiest dreams.
“Your journey ends here, Tarnished…” Morgott whispered, disappointed.
He had observed everything from afar. The path to the capital was blocked by an entire army—varied, powerful, and terrifying. The strongest army the Lands Between had seen since the Shattering.
After all, not everyone was thrilled at the idea of someone powerful enough to trample across the Lands Between, collect Great Runes from helpless demigods, and then casually move on—only to eventually become king and impose their own order. The only thing that had stopped everyone before was fear of the Tarnished’s strength, be they a proud dragon or even his own brother.
But now, everything had changed.
Morgott had not expected Mohg, of all people, to be one of those leading the army.
‘So even he feared him,’ the Omen King grimaced.
What’s more, he had gone as far as to bring his own projection into battle, putting them both at even greater risk(218)!
It sickened Morgott to watch so many once-mighty, once-proud beings so easily take the path of frightened mutts.
Erdtree Guardians, Draconic Tree Sentinels, that damn Deathbird (how had they even negotiated with it? It was just a mindless beast!), bastards, knights, dragons, perfumers, trolls, spirits, and even common Tarnished.
All of them had gathered to stop a single opponent.
Morgott had to admit to himself—he respected and openly feared this insane Tarnished. Even now, seeing this entire army before him, the madman was grinning so widely it was as if they had come not to kill him but to celebrate his birthday!
The Tarnished was dead serious, no doubt about it. He wasn’t underestimating the problem in the slightest. And that only made the man happier.
‘Truly, a madman…’
The demigod’s projection, observing the upcoming battle, turned its gaze toward the figure who’d stepped forward—a miserable wretch whom Mohg had graciously permitted to speak. Despite the insult Omen King suffered from that insolent creature earlier.
Varre, who still hadn’t found a replacement for his white mask, continued to wear it cracked—as if deliberately reminding himself who’d caused it.
“Foul Tarnished, we meet again,” Varre bowed. “I must admit, since our last meeting, you’ve managed to look slightly less like a beggar. Just slightly. Did you actually take a bath?”
Kosta froze for a moment.
For all his arrogance, the one who had once mocked Tarnished as maidenless had a certain level of perception.
“Yeah, I did.”
Now it was Varre who froze, stunned by the blunt admission.
“You know what? Forget it,” the man in white waved dismissively. “You’re finished either way. Or do you think you can possib—”
“Are you gonna keep talking or what?”
Knight Bernahl, until recently a servant of Volcano Manor, had regretted agreeing to this mess from the very start. Varre’s chatter only made things worse.
Would he ever shut up?!
The crowd began to stir with murmurs, growls, and shrill cries of agreement.
Morgott nodded grimly.
‘At this rate, they’re going to gang up and beat the crap out of this insolent wretch instead of Konstantin…’
Varre’s eyes widened at the mob, and he forced a crooked grin.
“And yet…”
“He’s right, Varre. You’ve said enough.”
A giant figure, covered from head to toe in scales, stepped forward—so monstrous in appearance that he hardly resembled a man anymore. Whatever bravado Varre had left completely evaporated.
After all, this was his lord.
Or at least his projection, but that hardly changed anything.
Damn these asset reuses—who could even tell the difference?
“M-My lord…” Varre fell to one knee. “I am terribly sorry…”
“Out of my sight before my mercy runs out,” the demigod waved him off dismissively with his trident.
“At once!”
Varre instantly disappeared, unwilling to provoke the Lord of Blood any further.
Mohg took a step forward, confronting Konstantin.
“I had thought to wait for you in our kingdom, knowing full well that you would come…”
“I planned to unlock the DLC right after the Mountaintops of the Giants,” Konstantin replied, perfectly calm.
Mohg faltered slightly at the man’s utterly unbothered tone.
“…But you turned out to be a far more terrifying opponent than I ever could have imagined, Tarnished. All of us gathered here today have come to pay tribute to your strength.”
Once more Konstantin glanced over the crowd. Dozens—no, hundreds of enemies, all united against him. Had this been any other situation, he’d be staring at enough boss-health bars to cover multiple screens.
Mohg spread his arms wide, and the crowd erupted into cheers, roars, shrieks, and otherworldly howls.
Morgott scoffed in disdain.
Konstantin took another sweeping glance at the army before him. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of different foes, all preparing to swarm him at once. In another situation, the sheer number of boss health bars on his screen would have taken up multiple monitors.
Beyond them, looming over the battlefield, was the capital of Leyndell.
Of course, he could just bypass this entire horde. He could flee, ignore them, or find another way around. But…
Where’s the fun in that?
His clothing vanished, leaving only a loincloth. In his hand appeared a cracked great club.
“I wonder… did some evil little boy have a hand in all this?” A sudden thought crossed Kosta’s mind.
After all, he had to admit—this sudden alliance of so many different factions against him was surprising.
If that was the case, he’d have to thank Miquella for the favor.
But first…
He had to clear a small challenge.
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