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Glory to my Proofreaders: Bakenekon and Solare. For they are the ones who point out mistakes and act as my favourite walls to bounce ideas off of.
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Melina took a few careful steps back, arms crossed, her cloak billowing faintly in the dusty wind as she watched Tarnished roll his shoulders and stretch his arms like he was preparing for a casual stroll rather than a confrontation with a fully grown dragon.
"Art thou truly… certain about this?" she called out, her voice a rare blend of concern and sharp incredulity. "This plan of thine sounds dangerously like a death wish. And if memory serves, dragons tend to devour fools whole."
Tarnished twisted his torso with a satisfying pop, glanced back over his shoulder, and flashed his signature reckless grin. "Hm? Oh, yeah, totally fine! What's the worst that can happen?" He held his arms wide, stepping back dramatically as if awaiting applause. "I'm immortal, remember? If I die, I just pop right back up. Thanks to Marika's Grace!"
High above on her swirling cloud of golden light, Marika raised a spectral glass of deep crimson wine in a perfectly timed mock toast, her lips curling into an insufferably smug smile. "Do remember to say 'thank thee,' mine Champion~."
Tarnished gave her a quick two-finger salute in response before turning back toward the bridge. But Melina wasn't so easily convinced. Her brow creased, worry softening her usual composure.
"And… what of the toll such things might take on thee?" she asked quietly. "Death may be but a temporary inconvenience, but canst thou truly say it leaves thee… unchanged? Are the long shadows of such things something thou wish to carry?"
Tarnished paused at that, his grin faltering just a hair. He blinked down at his gauntleted hands, turning them over slowly, almost like he was checking to see if they were still entirely his own. His fingers curled into tight fists.
'Hadn't really… thought about it like that.'
"Marika?" he asked aloud, head tilted.
She took a long, leisurely sip of her wine before offering a casual shrug. "The body suffers not. Thy flesh remains whole each time. But thy mind?"
She leaned forward on her elbow, golden eyes glinting. "Any… Scars left behind will be thine to bear. Should thy will falter… then perhaps the echoes of death may linger. But with a mind as stubborn as thine?" She smirked knowingly. "I think thou hast little to fear."
Tarnished let out a low breath, then nodded as if that settled the matter completely.
Physical consequences? None.
Mental consequences?
A problem for his future self to deal with.
And that's good enough for him.
He turned back toward the slumbering dragon, his smirk curling wide again.
For just a moment, his eyes lingered on his clenched fists before relaxing, arms falling to his sides. He turned back toward Melina and flexed his bicep with exaggerated bravado, shooting her a grin that was entirely too pleased with itself.
"Don't worry about me!" he called, his voice filled with that familiar, maddening confidence. "I'll be fine! As long as I've got you two lovely ladies watching my back, what could possibly go wrong?"
Melina let out a long, exhausted sigh, her shoulders visibly sagging under the weight of his ridiculous optimism. "That…" she muttered under her breath, "…is precisely what worries me."
And with that, she could only stand there, one hand pressed to her forehead in weary resignation, as Tarnished, completely unbothered by the very real threat of being reduced to charred scraps, marched toward the dragon in broad daylight, not even pretending to hide his approach.
"By the Erdtree…" Melina murmured to herself, watching him go headfirst into a dragon's jaws recklessly. "One day… this madness will be the end of thee."
As Tarnished walked away from her, Melina raised her hand and murmured the incantation under her breath. A radiant gold light surged from her palm, coiling around his form like a ward from the gods themselves.
"Golden Vow."
[Attack +15%, Defense +10%]
Just before the golden warmth could fade, Tarnished replied in kind, his voice carrying down the wind.
"Flame, Grant Me Strength!"
[Physical Attack +20%, Fire Attack +20%]
The red aura returned to his limbs in a wave of roaring heat, cloaking his frame in raw, aggressive power.
Across the bridge, the dragon stirred.
Its massive body shifted, wings unfurling slightly as it rose from its long rest. The ground trembled with every motion. With deliberate grace, the beast stood tall, far taller than any lesser kin, and locked its burning, golden eyes on Tarnished.
It didn't roar immediately. Instead, it growled, the sound low, rumbling, almost personal.
Tarnished blinked. "…That's new."
"Mm." Marika's cloud drifted closer beside him, her golden gaze narrowed in thought. "From what I recall, such a reaction is… rare. That intensity? That posture? It's not looking at thee as prey."
She floated a little nearer, inspecting the dragon's stance. "It may be displaying behavior typical of territorial aggression. In short…" She tilted her head, smirking faintly. "It sees thee as a rival."
Tarnished slowly turned his head left and right, as if half-expecting another dragon to be flanking him. "Huh?"
A second later, the dragon, Greyll, roared as its boss health bar appeared before him, slamming its claws against the bridge with enough force to rattle the entire span. Chunks of aged stone cracked beneath him.
Marika rolled her eyes. "Thou art the Progenitor of the Dracúl Aeternum. A new, rival draconic bloodline walking upright and breathing the flame of ancient beasts. Who else would it be angry at?"
Tarnished stared, stunned. "Wait… I'm the reason he's pissed?"
Marika's smirk widened. "Congratulations, mine Champion. You are the unwanted heir to a hostile dynasty. I mean, for my sake, you, and presumably the rest of your future kind, quite literally become stronger by devouring Dragons. Thou art basically a Dragon's natural predator at this point…"
Tarnished, instead of being shaken, broke into a wide, gleeful grin. "Is that right…?"
He summoned his Greatsword with a burst of silvery light, slinging it over his shoulder with a one-handed grip. With his free hand, he extended a finger toward Greyll and beckoned him forward with a cocky flourish.
"Come at me then, big guy. I'll turn your hide into my next pair of pants."
"You could not if you tried," Marika said flatly, sipping spectral wine from her conjured goblet, "but I do admire the confidence."
He grinned. "It's what I do best."
"What, lying?"
He barked out a laugh. "Doing the fucking impossible!"
With that, Greyll lunged.
The dragon's claw slammed down, but Tarnished twisted and brought his Greatsword up in a two-handed swing, deflecting the blow just enough to throw the claw wide and avoid getting flattened.
Greyll snarled, lunging to bite. Tarnished backstepped cleanly, his boots skidding across the stone, and immediately countered with a rising arc of his blade that smashed across the dragon's jaw.
Steel clanged. Flame flared. The two titans clashed with a furious rhythm.
Tarnished ducked beneath a tail swipe, rolled through a plume of dragonfire, and answered with a searing slash to Greyll's leg, ducking under its wings as they slammed downward like battering rams.
'Shit, he's strong as fuck! But…'
'Marika…' He said in his head, weaving through another bite. 'I'm just checking, but the sleep pots? I can't just throw them, right? He has to breathe them in?'
"I would presume so." She said, now floating just above his head. "There's no way they could seep through a dragon's hide. It's thick enough to shrug off lightning. If the fumes don't enter through his nostrils or lungs, they'll do nothing. And good luck getting him to sit still for that."
"Got it…" Tarnished muttered aloud, dodging another crushing slam by the width of a blade. "No pressure…"
Then, an idea sparked in his mind just as the dragon went for another swipe.
He rolled out of reach, cracked his neck loudly, and stood tall with a wicked grin.
"I got it."
Marika's expression froze as she looked down to him with an arched brow. "Coming from thee, that sentence is either the herald of brilliance… Or the prelude to unmitigated disaster." She floated lower, bracing her chin on her hand. "Do go on. Surprise me."
Tarnished licked his lips, firelight dancing in his draconic eyes as Greyll prepared for another charge.
"Oh, I plan to."
Tarnished planted his Greatsword into the ground beside him with one hand and waved the other at Greyll in open provocation, his shit-eating grin practically glowing with anticipation.
"Come on then, lizard breath…" He muttered. "Let's dance."
From above, Marika floated slowly closer, her arms folded as she stared down at him with growing confusion. "Uhh… my foolish Champion, he's charging right at thee?"
"Uh-huh," Tarnished said casually, never moving from his spot.
"And thou art not planning to dodge?"
"Nope."
She blinked. "…This is going to be good."
He dismissed his Greatsword with a flick, freeing his hands. Fire surged across his form again as he cast Flame, Grant Me Strength a second time, his limbs pulsing with draconic might.
He then reached into his soul towards the gift, or more accurately the blessing, he received from Fia. With a flick of his will, and poured some Mana into the Baldachin's Blessing. The effect was instantaneous as a flood of power rushed through him, reinforcing his body.
[Physical Attack +20%, Fire Attack +20%]
[Physical Damage Negation +35%, Poise + 34%]
Greyll barreled toward him, maw wide open, golden flame building deep in its throat.
At the last possible moment, Tarnished roared and lunged forward, planting both feet on the stone bridge and throwing his arms upward, catching the top of the dragon's mouth and shoving his feet against its lower jaw to hold it open.
His entire body trembled violently under the dragon's crushing force.
"NGH-!"
"Art thou insane?!" Marika shouted, eyes wide in horror. "The bite of an adult dragon can shatter a fire giant's spine! What in the Erdtree's name do you think it'll do to thee?!"
Tarnished groaned as his limbs shook, the pressure nearly enough to snap his bones like twigs. Melina shouted his name from the other end of the bridge and started running toward him.
"Stay back!" he snarled through clenched teeth. "I've got this!"
Melina and Marika both froze, stunned into silence.
He growled deep in his chest. "Dragon Claw!"
Golden flame flared from his arms as they warped and twisted into scaled, draconic limbs. Strength rushed through him, ancient and primal. He roared into Greyll's face, fangs bared, as he began forcing the dragon's maw wider, inch by agonizing inch.
Greyll growled, trying harder to clamp down, but Tarnished could feel it now, his heart thundering like a storm, his blood boiling with raw power. Crimson sparks of draconic lightning danced up his arms.
Something else stirred inside him. Something new.
His whole body surged with burning adrenaline as he shouted with wild laughter as he opened the dragon's maw wide. But just before this new sensation could blossom into something complete, his eyes caught the flash of flames sparking within the dragon's innards.
His grin froze. "Oh no…"
Crimson fire surged forward.
Thinking fast, he summoned his Greatsword in a flash of light and rammed it down between the dragon's jaws, using it like a wedge to keep the mouth pried open. In the same motion, he grabbed the blade with one hand and used it as a pivot to swing himself up and over the top of Greyll's head.
The dragonfire exploded beneath him. He could feel the searing heat scorching the edge of his black and white hair.
"SHIT!"
He barely scrambled forward in time, reaching into his pouch and yanking out all five of the sleep pots he had prepared. With one last burst of strength, he hurled them all down into the dragon's flaming throat, watching the pots vanish into the inferno of Greyll's gullet.
The Greatsword glowed red-hot from the fire, but it held long enough for him to grab it and throw it back into his inventory with a relieved gasp.
The dragon snapped its jaws shut, breath cut short by its own power, and Tarnished leapt down, wrapping his arms around the beast's horned skull and clinging on for dear life.
"GO TO SLEEP! GO TO SLEEP! GO TO SLEEP-!" He chanted under his breath like a man possessed.
Greyll roared in panic, flapping his wings violently and lifting off the bridge in a fury. Tarnished held tight, dragged through the air as the dragon thrashed and kicked. His limbs ached, lungs burning, but he refused to let go.
The sky wheeled around him in a dizzying blur, until suddenly, Greyll faltered. The mighty beast's movements grew sluggish, its wings stiff. A guttural growl escaped its throat, and then…
The dragon plummeted.
Tarnished tumbled free mid-air and hit the ground hard near the base of the bridge with a crunch and a groan.
[Item Acquired: Somber Smithing Stone (9)]
"…Huh," he breathed, face down in the grass. "Where the hell did that come from…?"
"That… that was perhaps the single stupidest thing I've ever witnessed in all my immortal years," Marika said from above, still hovering on her golden cloud. "And I've lived for countless centuries, so that says something."
Tarnished gave a raspy chuckle. "Impressed?"
Marika held her stomach and burst out into hysterical laughter. "Absolutely!"
Melina ran up moments later, panting, her eye wide with exasperation and relief. "You… absolute moron!"
Tarnished rolled over onto his back, grinning like a lunatic. "You're preaching to the choir, Melina. Marika already called me that."
Melina huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "Then mayhaps you need to hear it twice. You're a fucking idiot."
"HAH!"
Despite herself, she smiled, annoyed and amused all at once. She crouched beside him, brushing ash from his armor.
"…What now?" she asked, warily eyeing the dragon's sleeping form nearby.
He lazily raised a hand and pointed. "Now? We figure out how to kill this bastard."
Melina blinked. "…You didn't think of a way to kill him?"
He shrugged with zero shame. "Didn't think that far ahead."
She stared at him for a long moment with a deadpan glare. "Typical."
Marika giggled from above. "I do wonder if thou even think at all, sometimes…"
Tarnished lay there, laughing breathlessly. "Thinking is your job! I just bring results."
…
5 Minutes Later…
A thunderous roar burst from Tarnished's lungs as he raised his Greatsword overhead and brought it crashing down with everything he had.
Steel met scaled flesh. There was a sickening crunch, and a gout of blood erupted into the sky as Greyll's head was severed clean from his shoulders, crashing down beside his slumbering body with a heavy thud.
For a moment, the only sound was their breathing.
Tarnished dropped to one knee, bracing himself on the hilt of his sword. Melina stood beside him, equally breathless, a fine sheen of sweat clinging to her skin despite the cold winds of Dragonbarrow.
They watched in silence as the dragon's body shimmered, the golden light of death overtaking it. Slowly, gracefully, Greyll's body dissolved into pale dust, fragments scattering into the wind like forgotten history.
[GREAT ENEMY FELLED]
[Runes Acquired: 87,000]
[Item Acquired: Greyll's Heart]
Tarnished let out a long, wheezing laugh, dragging open his inventory and pulling out the glowing, still-beating Greyll's Heart, a massive, leathery organ radiating crimson heat and ancient power.
He stared at it for a heartbeat, then grinned wildly.
"Down the hatch!"
Without hesitation, he bit into it, tearing into the sinew and meat with the ease of a starving beast. The flavor was familiar, it was ancient, metallic, bitter, like charred blood and iron left to ferment in time. His eyes flashed bright as the power hit him like a tidal wave.
[Stat Boost: All Stats (except INT) +4]
He grinned wider, letting the last of the heart dissolve in his grip before pulling up his stat screen.
[STATS PAGE – Level 34 | Radagon's Soreseal Equipped]
Name: John Elden Ring
Class: Samurai
Race: Progenitor of the Dracúl Aeternum
Talisman: Radagon's Soreseal
Burden: Medium
Spells: Flame, Grant Me Strength
Level: 34
Vigor: 46 "Oh? Look at thee, finally built like someone who doesn't explode on impact. A true walking fortress, or a very well-dressed boulder."
Mind: 29 "Impressive. Thou might even cast two whole spells without crying for mana. A miracle worthy of documentation."
Endurance: 44 "At last! Stamina worth more than a common mule. Perhaps now thou shalt stop wheezing like a nobleman after mild exertion."
Strength: 41 "So brutish now. Doth thou intend to lift entire buildings next? Or just punch the world into compliance?"
Dexterity: 44 "Elegant and deadly. Yet somehow, I suspect thou still manages to get stuck on furniture. Consistency is thy true stat."
Intelligence: 9 "...Still tragically untouched. A number so low, it echoes when one knocks on thy skull."
Faith: 36 "Thy growing piety is almost respectable. Almost. Try not to set thyself alight by accident."
Arcane: 26 "Curious, aren't we? Just be sure thou doth not pry too deep. Some secrets do bite back."
Tarnished tilted his head slightly, still staring at the display. "Huh… That's the same amount I got from Ekzykes. But he felt stronger, way stronger."
Marika, now lounging more languidly than ever on her gilded cloud, tapped a glowing nail against her temple. "Likely because much of Ekzykes' essence was consumed by the Rot long before thy battle."
She sat upright, her tone growing thoughtful. "Even the heart of a dragon, immortal though it may be, has limits. Prolonged corruption eats away at their inner fire. Thou consumed what little remained."
Tarnished rubbed his chin. "Makes sense… And Greyoll?"
"Ah, Greyoll…" Marika mused, crossing one leg over the other. "She, too, was fading. Far, far more than Ekzykes had. The rot had eaten away at the Godbeast's very core. Had she been at full strength, I daresay thou wouldst have received far more."
He sighed, finally rising to his feet and stretching his arms with a groan. "Shit, I'll still take it. No complaints here."
Melina crossed her arms gently, watching him with a mixture of awe and concern. "Was that… truly worth the risk?" she asked softly. "Charging into the maw of a dragon…?"
Tarnished looked at her, grin still wide despite the bags under his eyes. "You tell me."
She looked like she wanted to scold him again, but instead, she just shook her head and let out a breathy, exasperated laugh. "I suppose… You are still alive."
Marika chuckled darkly. "By some miracle, or madness."
Tarnished and Melina walked side by side beneath the towering shadow of the cliffs, the sky above darkening into a bruised violet. The winds of Dragonbarrow carried the scent of blood and old rot, but the road ahead had never been clearer. Behind them, Greyll's ashes scattered in silence.
They passed a twisted tree near the trail, its roots gnarled around a small glowing object nestled within the rot-cracked earth.
Tarnished reached down and pulled it free.
[Item Acquired: Golden Seed]
Further along the path, near a crumbling watch post, they found a faint shimmer rising from the ground—one of Marika's scattered flames. Tarnished brushed his hand across it, and the Site of Grace flared to life beneath their feet.
[Lost Grace Found]
He sat briefly, taking in the warmth and letting it cleanse the lingering ache in his muscles. Then he stood, and they kept moving.
Along the broken stone trail, malformed figures watched them from the cliffside shadows, the Beastial Vulgar Militia. Gnarled weapons in their hands, faces twitching with animalistic suspicion. But none of them moved.
Melina noticed too. "They are… hesitant. As if watching a predator pass by their den."
"Or maybe," Tarnished muttered, "they saw what happened to Greyll and decided they'd rather not be turned into soup."
The militia vanished into the haze, giving them a wide berth.
And then the Sanctum came into view.
The tower loomed black and unyielding, carved from obsidian stone veined with silver. Its doors were sealed tight—guarded by a hulking, unmoving sentinel clad in onyx armor. The Black Blade Kindred. Its twin blades shimmered with dull obsidian light, and it stared directly at them with hollow eyes of death.
Tarnished sighed, already pulling out his Greatsword. "Welp. Guess we're doing this."
Melina mirrored him, her hand already glowing with flame.
But Marika's voice stopped them cold.
"There's no need for that."
Tarnished paused mid-draw, blinking. "What?"
"However long it hath been, the Black Blade Kindred are the sworn soldiers of my Shadow. They shall obey me, and mine commands."
Tarnished turned toward the golden specter floating beside him. "Yeah, okay. Problem: I'm not you."
She gave him a long-suffering sigh. "No, but thou art my Champion, art thou not?"
Without waiting for his answer, she raised her hand. Golden light gathered in her palm, weaving through the air like silk. A glowing rune began to form, an archaic symbol of loyalty and bondage: two crescent moons bound by a vertical spear of light, coiled by a ring of thorns.
"This," she said, "is the Sigil of the Shadowbound Oath. Visualise the wellspring of Faith within thee and latch on to it. With it in thy hand, etch this symbol into the air with thy hand. And repeat after me."
Tarnished squinted. "This is gonna be embarrassing if it doesn't work."
"Just do it."
He exhaled slowly, looking deep within himself to find that hidden power within. It responded to him eagerly, instinctively. Digging his will into the wellspring felt natural, as if it wanted to spill out.
His hand drifted up, drawing his finger through the air. The first try fizzled. The second twisted. But on the third attempt, the symbol solidified, humming with warm, ancient power.
The Kindred raised its blades ever so slightly, as if sensing a shift.
Marika's voice dropped to a regal whisper. "Repeat it now."
Tarnished nodded, stepped forward, and shouted with all the force he could muster:
"By Queen Marika's decree, the Shadowbound Oath endures. Let her Order be still within thee, Kindred of the Black Blade!"
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then, the Black Blade Kindred froze.
Its body went rigid, twin blades still poised for battle. Then, slowly, it dropped one knee to the ground, placing the blades before it like offerings. Its head bowed low.
A voice emerged from its throat, gravelly and resonant like a tombstone speaking through wind.
"…We have awaited her call for countless centuries. Has our Queen… truly returned? Has she come again for her Shadow?"
Tarnished, stunned but doing his best to recover, began walking forward. "Marika's return is close. Her Grace rises again within the Lands Between, and I will see it restored."
The Kindred exhaled, the sound dry and heavy like dust. "Then… you must hurry. There is little time."
It stood tall once more, then turned and reached for the massive gate behind it.
With a groan of ancient stone and rusted hinges, the Black Blade Kindred pushed the doors open, the light from within faint and pulsing with sickly grace.
"Do as you must, Chosen of the Queen. But know this, our master, Maliketh… is fading."
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Author's Note:
Next chapter should be full of fun reveals.
Also, sorry for being a day late, moved to the UK for uni and was technically homeless for a few days (That was fun). See y'all next week!
...Don't forget to drop the pity Power Stones along your exit.
…
Next Chapter Title: The Queen's Shadow.
…
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