JohnnyZ
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[My Ending] Chapter 15
🕑 Added 2024-12-03 21:11:54 +0000 UTCThops found himself standing with his hands raised towards the Sun. No, not the Sun. The Sun. He didn’t remember exactly when he had raised his hands. Was at the start of the battle? Or maybe closer to its end?
It didn’t matter. What mattered was the warm light that now illuminated the untalented sorcerer. Invisible to those who had never glimpsed the Sun, but visible to those who had been shown the way.
Konstantin stood atop the fallen dragon’s corpse, its face frozen in an expression of shock and impotent rage. Smarag’s reaction was understandable: it was infuriating when a tiny insect—barely capable of scratching you with a puny piece of iron—managed to dodge every attack, inflicting small, irritating wounds that bled endlessly, growing in number with each passing moment.
It was akin to a human being bitten to death by a strange, venomous fly that they just couldn’t swat away no matter how frantically they flailed in their “fight.” A death impossibly humiliating, somewhat terrifying, absurd, and just plain stupid.
“You could’ve fled, but you chose to fight, buddy,” Patches said, shaking his head as he gave the dragon’s body a kick. “Stupid lizard!”
Melina shot the rogue a strange look before sighing.
‘He defeated the dragon,’ she thought as her gaze shifted to the unflinching Konstantin.
The burned clothing had miraculously reappeared on him as though it had never been gone. Not long ago, her chosen one had been fleeing from the dragon (albeit with the same unwavering expression). Now, he had managed to defeat it.
Still, for some reason, Konstantin didn’t seem happy about his victory.
The answer came from the grim man himself as he stared at the sword in his hand.
“Bleed… again, bleed.”
The sword vanished from Konstantin’s grasp, and he raised his eyes to the Sun, faintly visible through the fog.
Ordinary weapons, blasted things, couldn’t deal with strong beasts! They just couldn’t! The blade would break before it could pierce the creature’s scales!
He had been forced to use that weapon again...
Konstantin felt the forbidden effect—reviled in some hardcore circles—slowly consuming him. It was too tempting, offering a semblance of challenge in melee combat while allowing him to bring down overpowered enemies with a simple stacking status effect, even without serious upgrades...
Before his eyes, the image of a hapless farm lizard appeared—a victim of those vile, bleed using casuals who killed it repeatedly in their hunt for free runes, abandoning even the remnants of humanity (1) and honor. Though there were still legends of players who used bleed properly, it changed little. Bleed was steeped in bloody and disgraceful history.
Konstantin knew he had much to consider—and a lot of smithing stones to farm. The sooner, the better.
Hearing her chosen one’s mutterings, Melina sighed sadly before quickly refocusing on a more pressing issue: her chosen one’s clothes. They were scorched. And she doubted she could easily convince him to wear something else.
She narrowed her eyes determinedly. Even if Konstantin often silenced her during battles (not always), in everyday life, he would be dressed. Dressed well, too—what kind of future Elden Lord wouldn’t be?
‘I need to find a worthy tailor quickly,’ Melina resolved.
She wasn’t about to give up so easily!
She would also scour the surrounding lands again for those her chosen one sought. It was the least she could do to make up for her own uselessness.
And even though the Finger Maidens didn’t usually concern themselves with such matters, it was time to admit that her Tarnished already knew she was no true Finger Maiden.
Melina gave one last glance at the brooding Konstantin before vanishing entirely, setting off in search and vowing to return as soon as possible. She doubted anything serious could happen in just a few days. At the very least, it was unlikely Konstantin would head straight for the Academy.
She had noticed that the man enjoyed collecting various plants and materials. Although she didn’t quite understand why he deliberately sought smoldering butterflies and mushrooms in cracked pots...
She would figure it out eventually.
Left alone, Konstantin stood staring at the fallen dragon for a moment before slowly shifting his gaze to Patches, who was still kicking the lizard. The rogue froze as soon as he felt the eyes of the half-naked dragon slayer on him, immediately raising his hands in surrender and backing away in fear.
“P-praise the Sun, or whatever it is! What a battle, my friend! I was rooting for you from the start, truly! And how you handled it, huh? Amazing!”
In truth, Konstantin was more impressed by how the notorious rogue managed to cling to the lizard throughout the entire fight without falling off even once. That took a level of resilience only someone who had been beaten more than anyone else in the Lands Between could possess.
“You’re free to go,” Konstantin said, deciding to let Patches off the hook. “But if I hear about you again…”
“I’m no idiot!” Patches protested indignantly.
With a half-naked psychopath capable of dodging dragon firestorms wandering the Lands Between, provoking him unnecessarily wasn’t worth it. The Lands Between might seem vast, but in the current Age, it was more like an enormous village—there weren’t nearly as many self-aware beings as one might hope. If the Lands Between were ever to recover from the Shattering, it would take centuries to restore what had been lost.
Descending from the cliff, Thops glanced curiously at the rogue but decided not to comment on his declaration. He still considered himself not the worst person around.
Konstantin nodded.
“Good.”
“I’ll hold you to that, friend!” Patches immediately perked up, letting out a cheerful laugh. “Here’s hoping we don’t meet again!”
With that, Patches spun around and disappeared into the mist as fast as his legs could carry him. Konstantin watched him go.
In a way, he understood why people let Patches go. The Lands Between felt livelier with him in it. Konstantin even felt a warmth deep within his hardcore soul—not from the dragon’s runes, but something else. Well, not just from the runes.
‘I want to kick him again,’ Konstantin thought, closing his eyes in bliss.
If Patches died and became another living corpse, Konstantin wouldn’t be able to shove him off cliffs again. That was unacceptable. The pleasure he’d felt from pushing Patches off a ledge was worth any trouble the rogue might cause in the future.
Now, only Thops and Konstantin remained.
“That was incredible!” the sorcerer exclaimed with inspired eyes, clutching his shield. “I understand what you meant, Konstantin! I felt the warmth of the Sun!”
Knowing he had guided yet another poor casual soul onto the hardcore path, Konstantin smiled.
“Glad to hear it, Thops.”
The untalented sorcerer, looking at the burned (yet unharmed!) figure of the man who seemed taller and more regal after defeating the dragon, felt a surge of motivation unlike anything he had ever known.
“I've decided,” Thops confessed, unable to keep it from his benefactor. No, not just his benefactor—the greatest warrior, his mentor, and envoy of the Sun.
“I will become a warrior-sorcerer! And I’ll never give up again! It doesn’t matter if I’m talentless or not! I will learn to wield a sword that compensates for my weakness and create spells that will protect me better than any shield! And… and I will praise the Sun after every victory, I promise, Konstantin!”
He had already developed spells to light his path in the darkest of nights, to smite hordes of undead, and to strike with unerring precision. Yet none of that mattered to a true sorcerer. At least, Thops believed so, unaware of how many hapless casuals he had unknowingly helped. (2)
He needed to create defenses for his body while charging into crowds of enemies with a sword in hand.
He wouldn’t falter!
The more Konstantin listened to the inspired sorcerer, the more vacant his own gaze became. Thankfully, Thops didn’t notice, too absorbed in his own thoughts.
They stayed together until dawn. At sunrise, the motivated sorcerer prepared to set out on his journey.
“I want to find Miriel, Pastor of Vows,” Thops shared his plans. “They say that…”
Konstantin pointed northeast.
“Look for the Church of Vows."
“You’ve met him?!” Thops exclaimed. “Thank you, Konstantin! Thank you! Bless you, bless you! Glory to the Sun, ha-ha-ha!”
Konstantin nodded stoically.
The tryhard watched the jubilant sorcerer leave, realizing there was no place for him anymore among the true soulslike community.
He had betrayed them. Betrayed them all…
First, he abandoned them for a waifu—that was forgivable. After all, it was a waifu. But now, he had set a sorcerer on the heretical path, further defiling the true way of soulslike warriors.
Summoning, bleed builds, warrior-mages… What next? Would he wield a staff and cast Comet Azur? (3)
Konstantin felt he might just be capable of it. And that was a horrifying thought.
He shuddered, feeling an urgent need to bathe. To cleanse himself. He was holding on, but something whispered to him that the ever-growing affection of Meli-Meli, his doting yet dubious waifu, could one day push him into doing the unthinkable.
This world was too terrible a place. It corrupted everything bright and good within it. Only waifus warmed the heart of the weary warrior. Yet, ironically, it was waifus who most often led him deeper into the casual path of darkness.
Speaking of waifus…
Konstantin turned in the opposite direction from where the sorcerer had gone, fixing his gaze on what appeared to be an ordinary tree.
Due to the abnormally high humidity, the misty lands of Liurnia of the Lakes limited visibility considerably. However, it wasn’t completely null. Add the heightened senses of an experienced soulslike warrior, and it became virtually impossible to hide from him using conventional means, without resorting to godless magical contrivances. And with each rune he acquired, this became ever more evident.
Moreover, even those wretched magical tricks would soon cease to be a problem.
“Come out.”
At first, the one observing him hesitated, but not for long. The heavy gaze of an experienced tryhard, one who had rolled through countless trials, proved too much. Reluctantly, the observer stepped out of hiding, nervously clutching her dress.
Konstantin recognized her instantly, his gaze and soul softening: it was Rya—or rather, Zorayas.
A modest, fair-haired girl in a green dress. She seemed to hunch over greatly, but the truth was that this was just a feature of her inhuman physiology.
The girl instantly regretted following the Tarnished who had defeated the dragon. Liurnia of the Lakes was a quiet place, so the roar of a vanquished dragon was hard to miss.
Rya had been confident in her stealth skills until now, but this man was terrifying.
She shouldn’t have sought his help… Her mother was right to teach her not to trust just anyone! First, a scoundrel attacked her and stole her possession, and now she had caught the eye of such a fearsome individual, foolishly assuming he would simply agree to help her!
How naive… How stupid and naive…
And there was nothing she could do about it.
“H-hello,” the girl bowed slightly, trying to stand straighter. It was a struggle. While she could take human form, her serpentine one was far more natural for her. “I-it's rather cold here, don’t you think?”
Konstantin nodded.
“Yes.”
Rya sighed in relief. At least this terrifying man hadn’t performed that dreadful roll, defying all logic!
So effective, yet strangely beautiful…
Like a dance. Only, a roll.
“M-my lady sent me on an errand…”
Rya didn’t even know how to phrase her request. She needed help. In the Lands Between, strangers rarely aided one another.
‘I’m such a fool… such a fool…’ Rya nearly clutched her head in despair.
She had been given one task. Just one task! To find Tarnished for her mother! And what had she done? She failed spectacularly—deceived by the very first Tarnished she met! Now she had “followed” another powerful Tarnished, only to immediately reveal her location.
And as if that wasn’t enough, she now wanted his help.
If her mother found out, she’d never be allowed out of the manor again.
The man regarded her with an inscrutable gaze for a while, glanced in the direction the sorcerer had gone, then unexpectedly smiled. His mood seemed to improve magically.
Had this been Konstantin from his early days in the Lands Between, he might have been genuinely baffled. But much had changed since then.
“Do you need help?”
“Y-yes!” Rya flinched. “A scoundrel attacked me, and now I’m in a desperate situation!”
Konstantin nodded gravely.
“Let’s go collect crabs.”
"Huh?"
It seemed that both Rya and an unseen moon demigoddess, secretly observing the Tarnished ever since Melina had departed, had synchronized the same thought.
Finding a sentient, living tailor in the Lands Between wasn’t easy. Most tailors had long become undead, and only a few retained their sanity. Moreover, finding skilled specialists unattached to any faction was an even greater challenge. Only a spiritual entity for whom distance was a relative concept could handle such a task. Melina sped through the Lands Between, searching for anyone she could find.
But she kept encountering charlatans, the undead, living corpses, or tailors already serving someone. Finding an unclaimed tailor was like finding a needle in a haystack—a sewing needle.
Still, fate had a strange sense of humor.
Melina stopped near a trembling enchanted bush. It emitted strange noises—grunts, mutters, and occasional bursts of hysterics that quickly subsided back into muttering.
The enchanted bush was clearly some poor soul cursed by an unfriendly sorcerer. After standing by the bush for a while, Melina decided to show a bit of humanity and gave it a kick. (4)
After all, without a touch of humanity, there would be nothing left of their world.
The bush let out a loud yelp as it scattered into particles of energy. The enchantment was broken. Melina, now fully visible, stared in mild surprise at the small demi-human who had been revealed. She hadn’t expected to encounter someone like this.
Wearing a peculiar hat, covered in fur, and with the face of some strange animal, he was nonetheless humanoid.
The demi-human, now on his knees, looked down at his unnaturally long fingers with wonder, as though seeing them for the first time. Slowly but surely, his memories seemed to return.
“Now I remember…” he murmured, unsteadily getting to his feet. “Some fool turned me into a tree…”
Melina smiled faintly.
That “fool” was likely a rather frightening sorcerer with a particularly bad sense of humor.
“And you managed to break the spell. Thank you.”
The demi-human said this so earnestly and pitifully that Melina felt a pang of guilt for her earlier suspicions.
She had been too focused on her own goal, forgetting everything else. It was only thanks to her chosen Tarnished that she was beginning to reconnect with her humanity. Perhaps they were both finding their way again, little by little.
She resolved to give her all to ensure that the Tarnished learned to maintain his appearance once she was no longer with him. Melina was determined.
Unaware of the ghostly maiden’s inner musings, the demi-human hesitantly continued:
“My name is Boc…”
“Melina,” she replied, shaking herself out of her reverie. “Why are you here, Boc?”
Demi-humans rarely ventured into the open. Exceptions existed, but they were exceptions for a reason.
“They drove me out of the cave and told me never to return…” Boc muttered miserably. “And then I became a tree! But fortunately, I met you!”
Boc smiled at Melina as sincerely as he could, though his smile quickly faded.
“S-sorry, I’m so hideous…”
Melina tilted her head.
“It’s all right, Boc. Do you need help?”
Her mood seemed unusually good. It had been so long since she had revealed herself to anyone besides her Tarnished. She doubted that appearing before a no-name demi-human would change anything.
Her decision to accompany her chosen one to the Roundtable Hold during the next visit already felt like a significant shift...
She’d only observe. Nothing more.
“How embarrassing!” Boc exclaimed, raising his hands. “There’s no need, no need! The ones who threw me out of the cave took all my belongings, so this is all I have to express my gratitude. I hope you can forgive me…”
Melina chuckled softly, accepting the moldy mushrooms he offered.
Boc suddenly seemed to be deep in thought.
“Or… if you could wait a bit, I might sneak back into the cave and bring you something truly valuable. Then, perhaps, I could be of use to you…”
Melina found his demeanor quite endearing. With no expectations, she calmly asked:
“And how would you do that?”
“I’m a tailor…”
The cursed eye of the ghostly maiden almost widened again.
It seemed that with the arrival of this Tarnished soul in their world, events were progressing far too quickly.
_________________________________________
(1) (AN:) Refers to Greyoll, the Great Dragon. Covered in rot, she is defenseless against pesky samurai katana attacks, succumbing to bleed buildup early on. The terrifying part is that casual players seeking free runes can rest at the nearest Site of Grace, reset her death, and farm her repeatedly while still receiving the runes.
(2) Thops’s spells are actually quite decent. While he lacks power, he could have made a brilliant scholar—if he didn’t die at the end of his questline. His body can be found in the Academy, seated at a desk, with no explanation or foreshadowing.
(3) Comet Azur is one of the strongest mage spells, firing a massive beam of energy that obliterates anything caught in its path.
(4) The kick isn’t arbitrary. It’s the same kick players use to dispel Boc’s enchantment.
