Darkscythe Drake
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Rise, Ye Tarnished Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2025-08-31 12:28:42 +0000 UTCIssei stared at his hands, as though the whole world shattered like a fourth-wall screen break in a cartoon. Just to be sure, he stared at his computer screen, then back at his hands. With much hesitation, he slowly raised his left arm and ran it over his right, dragon-covered one. Scales rubbed against his fingers, and the final lightbulb in his head fizzled out.
He wasn’t imagining things. This wasn’t some sleep-deprived hallucination brought upon by hours of late-night gaming.
Somehow, the Grafted Dragon and the Godslayer Seal from Elden Ring ended up in his hands.
Part of Issei wanted to scream. To run around and bang his head on the wall to make sense of the sheer insanity of the situation…but that would get his parents’ attention and then he’d have to explain to them what happened earlier with the devil - and boy, that was still a revelation he was shocked about. They’d ask how he ended up with these, which he couldn’t even answer because he didn’t have the slightest clue!
“Unreal…” he whispered, bringing the dragon arm closer. Everything about it seemed absolutely real, even when it shouldn’t have been. The teeth and tongue inside the jaw, the membrane of the tiny wings, and even the patterns of the scales. Dragons weren’t real, but the arm looked as real as one could get!
Devils weren’t real either.
“...One mind-blowing event at a time, please,” he muttered to himself. He almost raised his arms to rub his forehead, but stopped himself. “Okay, how do I get these off? What did I do last time?”
He bit his lip as he tried to recall how he’d made the items vanish.
“Uh, you can go now? Disappear? Dispel? Release? Go away?" To his dismay, nothing happened. “Come on, what was it?” he jumped from his seat and held his arms high. “I didn’t say anything last time, right? Maybe if I think of them disappearing, they’ll go away?”
Issei scrunched his eyes closed and imagined his arms. His regular, boring arms with no video game items on them.
A breeze passed over his arms, and the ringing of windchimes tickled his ears. He opened his eyes, and to his relief, his arms were normal once again. He slumped over and exhaled, but his eyes soon flickered to the screen. The Elden Ring menu stared back at him, and for once, the thought of stats and new equipment didn’t seem so exciting anymore.
“What do I even do with this…?”
Well, what he wouldn’t be doing was announcing this to the whole world; he’d watched enough anime to know that revealing magic powers to the public was generally a bad idea. The government would be knocking on their door before dinner if he did!
“I’ve gotta tell someone though. I can’t keep this kind of shit bottled up, but who the hell could—” one face came to mind. He sighed again, though this time the first hints of a smile grew on his lips. “Right. Motohama. I feel stupid for even asking.”
Calling Motohama an Elden Ring fanatic wasn’t an exaggeration. He had followed every leak and rumor since the game’s announcement and was active on forums, even serving as a moderator for one of them. When the first real trailers and gameplay reveals came out, not even peeping in the girls’ locker rooms could pull him away from his phone, an event that made Issei and Matsuda worry that aliens had brainwashed him. Matsuda thought he’d found a girlfriend and left them in the dust, with neither option sounding appealing. Nevertheless, Motohama was the one who brought the game to their attention and always led their brotherhood in discussions about it.
“I hope I can actually reach him. He’s been almost impossible to call since the game came out.” Issei pulled out his phone and dialled his number. After a few agonisingly long rings, his voice came through.
“Issei, my man! Erdtree bless you! It’s been a while! How’s your journey in the lands between?”
“It’s been going great!” he replied, leaning back. “Finally killed that bastard Godrick!”
“So I’ve heard! Matsuda texted me not long ago! At last, you’re one step away from losing the shame of maidenlessness! Today is the day Issei Hyoudou is ready to play with the champions!”
“I’m not ready for PvP yet, but thanks,” Issei replied. “I’ve watched the videos you posted, and I’ve got no chance in hell against those weapons. Seriously, how do you lose half your life from one bleed proc?”
“Minmaxing and optimization, my friend, an art you’d do well to master if you want a snowball’s chance in surviving the sadomasochistic hellhole we call the Lands Between.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to enjoy the game and not kick all the fun out of it.”
“That’s what they all say at the start. Anyways, what do you need?”
Issei opened his mouth to reply, only to clamp it shut. His eyes drifted to his arm as though the dragon would spontaneously appear again. Was he really doing this? He could ignore it. Keep living his normal life. Shove it away and pretend he’d never died.
Rise, ye Tarnished.
The moment that thought entered his head, however, a wave of revulsion came over him. As though the mere idea of spurning whatever this was actually made him sick.
“Issei? Bro? You still there?”
He blinked. “Y-yeah, I’m good.” He took a deep breath and bit the bullet. This…wasn’t going to simply vanish. If it came to bite him back in the ass, he’d haunt himself. “Listen, could you come over to my house? There’s something I want to show you.”
“Come over?” Motohama asked, puzzled. “Is it a new doujin? We didn’t bring up any new releases the past couple of weeks, so I might’ve missed out on some. Or is it something to do with the game?”
“It’s…kinda related to the game, yeah.”
“Can’t you send me a pic?”
“I don’t think,” Issei replied, putting as much urgency in his voice as he could, “that would be a good idea. You wouldn’t believe me if I sent a pic.”
He heard rustling and the creaking of a swivel chair in the background. His hands clenched on his knees as he waited for his friend’s answer. One last chance to back out; he could press the red button and cancel the call. Motohama might get weirded out, but he could explain when they met up at school. Yet as his thumb hovered over the button, he couldn’t bring himself to push it.
“...if that’s what you say, then sure. I’m game. When do you want me to come?”
“As soon as you can. As in, right now would be good.”
“Right now? Yeesh, did you nab a limited-edition figurine of Melina? Those sell for a shit-ton of yen, y’know? Nah, you couldn’t afford it.” Motohama replied. “Okay, I’ll be right over. At least make sure your parents won’t kick me out the moment I knock.”
“Just tell them it’s about the game. The only reason they’re up in the air about it is because I haven’t watched any hentai since I grabbed it.”
“Hah! Same here. Boy, were my parents happy. I’ll ride the bike over. See ya!”
Motohama hung up, and Issei sank into his chair, a weight in his stomach partially unloading. ‘“That had to be the hardest phone call I’ve ever made…wow.” He eyed his Momo-chan alarm clock and gave it a half-hearted finger salute. “Here’s to hoping this day doesn’t get any worse…I just jinxed that, didn’t I?”
Rising from his chair, Issei went over to his bed and fell face-first. Sinking into the sheets, he raised his arm and glared at it, as if it were to blame for his recent troubles.
“Heh. I’m having a staredown with my own arm,” he chuckled with no real humor. “I must be losing it.”
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang, and Issei perked up. He quickly headed down to the living room to see his mother standing before the door with her arms crossed. Now, Issei recognized a volatile situation when he saw one, so he immediately stepped in.
“Hey, Motohama! You made it!” he called out, breaking the tension. His mother’s head swerved to him, and she pinned him with a raised eyebrow. Rubbing his head sheepishly, he chuckled as he realized that forgetting to mention his friend coming over was a big deal. “Sorry, Mom. I invited Motohama over to talk about the game.”
“Really?” she asked. “Then if I open that bag, I won’t see more of that disgusting porn like the ones you always hide away in your room?”
He glanced at his friend, and sure enough, that infamous brown bag hung from his shoulder.
“They’re strategy magazines, Mrs. Hyoudou,” Motohama replied quickly and opened a bag, pulling out a big magazine with the Tarnished emblazoned on the cover. “Issei’s been having trouble with some of the enemies, so I brought this to help him.”
Issei’s mother tore the magazine from his grasp and flipped it open. Usually, this was the part where her face would shrivel in utter disgust at what she claimed was ‘degenerate filth that corrupted her son’. Fortunately, for both their sakes, there were no nudies in this magazine.
After a few tense seconds, she handed it back, though her eyes remained narrowed.
“Alright, both of you can go. Be careful not to make too much noise, okay? If that game really is chipping off some of that perversion of you lot, then I’m all for it. Open up a window, though. I’d better not come up there and find the room stinking to high heaven, understand?”
Issei and Motohama quickly nodded, the latter’s glasses almost falling off with how fast he was nodding. She waved her hand, and Motohama stepped past her.
“Great to see you. Sorry about calling like this on a weekend, but I really couldn’t wait.” Issei said as he led his friend up the stairs after depositing his shoes near the doorway.
“You’d better have a good explanation, Hyoudou. I almost missed an important livestream, and going through comment sections is barely worth the effort,” Motohama replied. The pair entered Issei’s room, and Motohama looked around with a discerning eye. “As usual, your collection is top-notch. Even the Momo-chan poster is one of the rarer editions. I’ve truly taught you well.”
“I snatched it from the shelf before an Ugly Bastard wearing a pink t-shirt laid his grubby hands on it,” Issei said and closed the door. “Nice going with the bag, by the way. What’s really in there?”
Motohama grinned and pulled out the magazines. “I wasn’t lying this time. All these are fresh off the shelf and have some of the best gamers in the country writing for Elden Ring.”
“Can’t you just search these up on the internet?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Motohama sighed with pity and pulled back the bangs of his brown hair. “Oh, ye ignorant soul. You really think the best gamers are gonna post their best advice out on the net where every noob can read them? No, the real gems are buried here.” He traced the magazines’ edges as though it was made of gold. Or a Miku figurine. He then shook his head and threw them on the bed. “But we can get to that later. What was so important it couldn’t wait until recess on Monday?”
Issei bit his lip and clenched his fists. This wasn't gonna be easy, no matter how he framed it.
“Well, right after I owned Godrick and unlocked his weapons, Mom forced me out of my room. I walked around the city for a bit and then…I was pulled into an alley.”
“An alley? Wait, you were mugged?” Motohmama asked with sudden alarm. “Dude, are you okay? Did you call the cops?”
“No way!” Issei exclaimed, viciously shaking his head. “No, the cops have to stay out of it.”
“Are you crazy?” His friend exclaimed with raised eyebrows. “Was the mugger a chick? Cause that’s gotta be the only reason why you’d—”
“First, it was a guy! Even if it was a chick with melon-grade oppai, I’d still tell my Mom and Dad at least! And yes, they don’t know, so keep it quiet, okay?” he pleaded with placating hands. “Second, the reason why I didn’t go to the cops…”
This was it. No going back now. For real this time. Issei took a deep breath and outstretched his arms, much to Motohama’s confusion. He imagined the weight of the items again on his arms, how the scales rubbed against his skin. For a few seconds, nothing happened.
“Um, Issei? Are you sure you didn’t knock your head—HOLY SHIT!”
Wincing at the inevitable, Issei watched as Motohama jumped back, scrambling onto the bed and gaping at the newfound accessories on his arms. “Wh-what the hell is that!?”
“I said the same thing, and I have no clue.” He shook his arms and twisted them so Motohama wouldn’t miss any detail. “The guy attacked me, and the next thing I knew, I had these.”
Motohama stammered silently as his chest heaved up and down with the force of a machine gun, his eyes darting like crazy behind his glasses. He finally managed to concentrate on what exactly it was on Issei’s arms and leaned his head the slightest bit closer, only to pale and raise a shaking finger at him.
“I-Is that the…? Are those…?”
“Yep.”
A heavy tension fell upon them, mixed with pure incredulity and a not-insignificant amount of fear. Issei gave his friend a shaky smile, hoping to alleviate some of the tension, but he was just as nervous as his friend was, if not more. If Motohama panicked and ran, or even called the cops, he didn’t know what he’d do.
He could tackle him. Only a step away. Grab him by the neck with the graft and squeeze -
The instant the thought entered his head, he grit his teeth and quickly banished it. What was he even thinking!? ‘I don’t care what happens, but I’m not gonna hurt my friend for something I showed him!’
…
“...Can I…get closer?”
Issei blinked. His friend, while paler than a ghost, didn’t look like he was about to bolt. Slowly nodding, he kept absolutely still as Motohama slowly crawled from the bed and stepped closer. He seemed ready to bolt with every step, but he managed to approach Issei until he was almost nose-to-nose with the dragon head. Grasping his trembling finger, the bespectacled boy lightly prodded the scales and pulled back, utterly alarmed.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “This is either the greatest cosplay ever conceived by fans of anything, or…”
The dragon's head opened as Issei clenched his fist, and this time, Motohama did flinch. Not enough to crash through the ceiling, but close to it. He slowly looked up and their eyes met. For a good while, neither of them said anything, each waiting for the other to take the lead.
‘But what the hell can I say right now?’
“...How? Just, how?”
The image of an endless void flashed before the brown-haired boy’s eyes. Of creeping darkness and sorrow, and of stone coffins and golden lights that blossomed into infernos.
“Honestly? I haven’t got the slightest clue.”
Motohama swallowed, then hesitantly nodded. “Okay, okay, I’m good.”
He didn’t look good at all - a sheen of sweat was forming under his bangs - but Issei smiled again. “Do you wanna sit down?”
“I don’t think I could get up if I did,” he replied. Pressing his hands together, he sharply inhaled and straightened himself up. “Better now. Right. You say this came outta nowhere, correct?”
“Pretty much.”
Motohama squeezed his hands tighter, though his eyes never left the Grafted Dragon. “And…these actually work?”
‘Oh, they work alright.’ Issei thought as the memory of the screaming devil played in fast-forward. He clenched his fist again, and reddish light bloomed from within the dragon's maw. “I don’t think showing you the rest here is a good idea. Explaining to Mom why I burned down my room is the last thing I want to happen today. I haven’t tested out the Seal yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I can cast magic now.”
As Issei finished that statement, his eyes widened, and an unexpected rush of excitement ran through him. ‘Oh shit, can I actually use magic?’
Every chuuni’s dream, and he held it - literally - in the palm of his hand? And from the way Motohama pushed up his glasses, he realized that tidbit as well.
“Grafted Dragon and Godslayer Seal…hmm, odd combination. Any reason why?”
Issei gestured to his computer screen. “See for yourself.”
Motohama rushed to the computer and roused it from sleep mode, whereupon he was treated to the sight of Issei’s Tarnished standing in Enia’s chamber. His eyes roamed over the screen before his head sharply turned to him, and he almost stumbled at his friend’s piercing stare. Usually, Motohama would use it to analyze the sacred numbers of the girls at school, but now that he was on the receiving end of it…yeesh.
“You actually use the Grafted Dragon?” his friend deadpanned. “Seriously?”
“Wha—it’s a literal dragon’s head that can shoot meteors!” Issei protested. “Who wouldn’t want to use something that oozes badassery? I’ve got the stats for it, and it does burn damage without buffs or items!”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that,” Motohama replied, waving his hand in dismissal. “Don’t come crying when you lose to the next mini-boss fifty times.”
“Fifty times? Wow, you have that much faith in me?”
“Your failure to understand the principles of proper minmaxing confounds me to this day, brother.”
“Unlike some people, I actually wanna have fun while playing. Grinding has its time and place, but not every moment of the game,” Issei countered, almost crossing his arms before remembering that it wouldn’t be a pleasant experience, considering what was on them.
Motohama stared at him with the same level of disappointment that was reserved for anime fans who claimed that Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood was a mid-tier anime and not absolute cinema. Issei refused to budge, though; he had his gaming principles, and like his love for oppai, he’d stand his ground for them no matter what!
Then, his friend finally cracked a smile. “You’re utterly hopeless, you know that?”
All the tension in the room slowly evaporated as Issei smugly grinned. A huge weight dropped from Issei's shoulders as the tension in his arms lightened somewhat. Not completely, since Motohama still stared at the game items unabashedly, and Issei didn’t think he could blame him for that.
“So, you have your weapons loadout in real life, complete with magic that you may or may not know how to use, and you have no idea why.” He rubbed his chin in deep concentration. “If this really is your loadout, what’s your other equipment?”
“A brass shield and a broadsword,” Issei replied without thinking, then his eyes widened. “You don’t think…”
“It wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“How would I even do that?” he asked, raising his arms again. “It’s not like this thing comes with an instruction manual!”
“Hmm…it’s a reach, but try picturing swapping between the weapons like you would in the game.” He swiped his finger in the air.
Issei’s brow furrowed. How exactly Motohama came to that logic, he wasn’t sure, but it made sense. He still held reservations, but his friend gestured to him again and he realized he wasn’t going to back down.
‘Okay, just swap the weapons…’ he closed his eyes and imagined his Tarnished character, this time with the broadsword and the shield in his hands. For a few moments, nothing happened, and Issei began to think he was being played.
‘Is this revenge? Cause it’s not really funny.’
Then, with the faintest chiming of a bell, the weight on his arms vanished before being replaced with—
“WHOA, WATCH IT!”
“What are you—oh shit, sorry!”
Issei winced as his apology did little to alleviate Motohama, who grimaced before slowly nodding. “Well, at least it worked.”
Sure enough, in his right hand, he held a long, European-style sword, and in the other, a shield bigger than his chest.
“Holy shit,” Motohama muttered, carefully inspecting the weapons while Issei made sure he didn’t nick him by accident. “I think I’ve said that phrase more times today than in my whole life.”
“No kidding.” Issei held the sword closer and examined the steel. He hadn’t seen any real-life swords, both native and foreign, outside of museum trips, but this one looked sharp enough to cut through his desk. The shield was also a work of art and sturdy to boot if the weight on his left arm meant anything. “When I came back, I honestly thought I’d go postal. Wait, I actually did, I just held it inside.”
“I feel you, brother,” Motohama nodded sagely. “How heavy are these?”
“Heavy?” Issei asked, then bobbed them up and down. “Not that much.”
“You sure? Cause I’m certain that much metal is way heavier than what you can usually carry,” His friend pointed out.
“Hey, I do fine in gym class! Besides, I didn’t say these were feathers, just…” He lightly waved the sword around. “Not crushing.”
“Weight 7 for the shield and weight 4 for the sword…” Motohama pondered and began counting off his fingers. “How does that translate to real life? Did the devs try and find an equivalent for the real weight, or did they just give a number based on how heavy it looked?”
“It’s a fantasy game, I don’t think the devs cared if it was super-realistic.”
“Point. Still, considering that you have…this…it’s not something you can just ignore.”
Well, the shield’s heavier, that’s a given,” Issei said, hefting the shield. Yet as he kept staring at its back, he felt a light pull coming from the arm that held it, tugging at his mind.
‘Hell, I’m already in this deep..’ He ‘tugged’ the string and-
The clanging of steel. The roaring of knights. The whinnying of horses, stampeding and charging.
Swords against shields, as the gods clashed behind
“Hold the line!” He buckled under the mace’s blow, but the shield held, and he cut off his foe’s legs from under. “By Margit, keep them away from the walls!” His horse reared as he parried another blow, and his lance skewered a line of knights. Arrows rained down upon him, only to shatter harmlessly against his shield. “Castle Morne must hold! Erdtree as my witness, this castle will hold! Do you hear me, soldiers!?”
“Yes, Sir Niedhardt! Glory to the Fell Omen!”
“Not again, dude! You gotta warn me when you try something like that!”
“Huh?” Issei cleared his eyes, the memory of the vision still lingering in his mind. ‘Again? This is starting to get really…oh.’
“Okay, I swear I didn’t mean for that to happen…” Issei raised his shield again—his glowing shield—and gave a weak chuckle. “But at least we know Ashes of War work, right?”
Barricade Shield was easy enough to identify, after all—a simple skill meant to bolster the shield’s defense. And just like everything else that day, it wasn’t limited to a screen.
‘Does that mean my broadsword has…’ Issei thought before quickly shaking his head. ‘Nope. No fire or hacking the room to bits. I don’t wanna find out what Storm Blade can do to a wall… or Motohama.’
Motohama forced his jaw shut and bowed his head, fingers furiously drumming against each other. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, completely tuned out from the world.
“Heh.”
What?
“Um, Motohama? You good?”
“HeheheheheheheHAHAHA!” Motohama reared back his head and cackled. “This is the greatest day of my life!” Issei stumbled as his friend suddenly rushed behind him and roped his arm around his head. “Our fantasies have finally come true! Today is a historic day for us, Issei! No longer will we be the perverts for the girl to kick around, but anime protagonists drowning in ladies! Our shonen adventure has begun, with all the blessings it entails!”
Issei stared with disbelief at Motohama, who’d raised his finger heavenward, and his glasses glinted against the light. “What are you saying?”
“That we are going up in the world, my friend! We need to test everything: if you can use the rest of your gear, if you can use magic, the whole damn training montage!” He detached himself from Issei and pulled out his phone. “I’ve gotta call Matsuda. He’ll be over the moon when-”
“NO!”
Motohama paused with his finger right over the call button. He turned to Issei and tilted his head.
“Look, I really think we should keep this between ourselves, okay?”
“What—why?” Motohama asked, baulking at the suggestion.
Like before, Issei dispelled the weapons before rubbing his head, the words souring in his mouth. “This whole thing…I’m still trying to process it, and we don’t know anything about it. If this gets out, I’d bet you my stash that I’d be carted off to some government black site. If we keep the number of people who know on the down-low, there’s less of a risk that someone would blab.”
“Someone would—” Motohama held back a curse. “It’s Matsuda! He’s not gonna snitch on us, Issei! He’s the last person who would!”
“I know that!” Issei shouted. His fist clenched as the words left his mouth. “You think I want to do it? I’m scared, Motohama! One step away from pissing myself, scared! I don’t know what’s going on and how I even got these, but I don’t want this to come bite me or my parents in the ass!” He clasped his hands and bowed. “Please, just…hold off on telling Matsuda until we’ve got a better grip on this, okay? I only called you because you know a hell lot more about Elden Ring than me!”
Motohama frowned, though he could see worry in his expression. “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”
“While you were on your way here. Please, I’m begging you.”
His friend’s eyes flickered to the screen and then to him several times, biting his lip. The sweat on Issei’s brow was almost dripping down his face. Honestly, Issei really wanted Matsuda in the loop, too, but he’d watched enough anime to know that the slightest wrong whisper would have the government knocking on his door before he could blink.
‘When I figure all of this out, I’ll tell him. And my parents.’
Finally, Motohama sighed and returned the phone to his pocket. “Fine, I won’t tell him. You owe me big, though, you got that? Do you know how pissed he’s going to be when he finds out we kept him out of this? It’ll be your head on the line, not mine.”
Issei swallowed his guilt. “...A-Absolutely. Whatever you need.”
“Great!” Motohama clapped his hands, his eager grin snapping back into existence. “First things first, we need a testing ground. There’s a spot in the old forest nearby that we can use as long as we don’t use anything too flashy. We’ll head over tomorrow so I can write a full experiment plan! Incantations, skills, the whole shebang! This is gonna be awesome!”
Despite the mental exhaustion, Issei smiled. On one hand, he had a feeling hiding his situation from people would be the least of his issues. On the other hand, he was going to cast magic. Enough said.
“Oh, what happened to the mugger?”
Ah, Issei swallowed. He’d almost forgotten about that. Which was strange considering he’d…killed him. ‘I thought I’d throw up when I came back, I mean, I killed a guy! But he tried to kill me, so…wait, I burned him alive! How am I not bothered by that?’
Still, he had a feeling his friend wouldn’t take that well. A bit of omission then.
“The guy who attacked me called himself a devil, and it wasn’t a chuuni nickname. He had the ears and fangs and everything. He almost killed me before I got the drop on him.”
…
“...Okay, let me get this straight: you went on a walk, got mugged by a devil, and then you somehow gained access to your weapons from Elden Ring. All in one day.”
Issei’s head slumped forward. Well, at least there weren’t any more bombshells to drop.
Comments
Antonio Ranza
My friend, do you have doubts about the Lore or questions? Or do you want interpretations?
Antonio Ranza
Top chapter Bro
