"Old Man Gael, maybe you really should just find a place to retire."
After a while, Lloyd's eye twitched as he looked over the ground, littered with insect corpses.
Beside him, Gael held his broken sword, looking a little embarrassed.
As for why things turned out like this...
Simply put, Gael wasn't weak, and he really did want to help Lloyd.
But the problem was, the nature of his power was a bit too abstract, and his control wasn't nearly as precise as Lloyd's. Sure, his entrance had been impressive, and when he started fighting he seemed overwhelmingly strong—one swing and the bugs were dead in seconds. But because of that, the insects lost hope even faster. After just two waves, they couldn't hold on and all dropped dead.
"You can't just blow everything at once. You've got to manage the pace. At first, don't look that strong—make them think they can beat you..."
"Then, once you get into the rhythm, even if you can go unharmed, you need to take a couple of hits. Maybe even let your health drop to a sliver, so they think there's still hope..."
"And only when they finally realize it was all a trick—then you show your true strength. Before they can react, you squeeze every last bit of value out of them..."
Lloyd sighed regretfully as he glanced again at the insect corpses.
If it had been him, using that slow-boil method, he could've farmed them at least twenty rounds.
But thanks to Gael scaring them off, two waves and they were all gone. Really now...
"...I'll try harder."
That's what Gael said.
And he did try, following Lloyd's instructions as best he could.
But as he'd said before, no one—except for a certain rare being—could handle such abstract power with that kind of precision. Not to mention the strength within him was among the most abstract forces in the whole Dark Souls world. So even though he tried his best to act like a rookie, even taking hits on purpose...
In the end, the only difference was that instead of dying in two waves, they lasted four. Lloyd's heart ached at the waste.
"Old Man Gael, you'd better retire. If you keep helping like this, the bugs will all be wiped out and we still won't have enough materials to bring her back."
Of course, while that was the excuse, the real reason was that Old Man Gael had just been resurrected and needed time to recover and adjust.
Letting him fight some bugs was just practice, and gave them time to talk and bring him up to speed on the situation.
Once Lloyd had explained the basics, he planned to have the old man find a place to rest, regain his strength, and slowly get used to this world.
As for where...
"Hey Edgar, there should still be some empty houses in Castle Morne, right?"
Although Castle Morne was now a city of hybrids, most of the original Misbegotten had been slaves. On top of that, Lloyd had tossed in a few Albinaurics. He figured the place would suit Gael well, and it would also help strengthen their forces, so he decided to send him there.
Hearing Lloyd's request, Edgar immediately agreed, even feeling a little moved.
After all, when Lloyd had tried to dump things on him before, it had been Flying Dragons, Two Fingers, and at the very least Those Who Live in Death or Albinaurics.
It happened so often that Edgar had developed a full-blown Lloyd phobia. Just hearing the name would make him tremble and glance around nervously, afraid Lloyd had dragged in something even more bizarre.
Now, the old man in front of him might look skinny and ragged, dressed in tatters, and was even said to have once been a slave—but at least he was a normal human being...
That really touched Edgar.
—At least until he saw Old Man Gael casually crush the skull of a champion-level monster.
Since the Seals of the Stars were broken, more and more eyes had turned toward this land, drawn by the influence of a certain flame.
Not just the ones Lloyd had encountered before. There were also those who hadn't intervened much, but still came to take a look.
While these beings didn't have any designs on the Lands Between—and some didn't get involved at all—their mere presence brought a certain impact to the region.
To Lloyd, that influence was negligible, barely even within the scope of his Law. At most, it meant a few extra oddities showing up.
But to others—especially Castle Morne, which lacked high-end fighters—it became a real problem.
But now...
"Ah, old age has made me useless..."
Old Man Gael sighed as he crushed the monsters' skulls with his bare hands, not even bothering to draw his sword.
Afterwards, he thrust his fingers into their hearts, tainting them with his own Strength. He pulled out the corrupted souls along with their flesh and blood, studied them carefully, nodded in satisfaction, and then wrapped them up meticulously in cloth.
"What are you doing..."
"Ah, nothing much. Just thought the young lady might come later, so I'm preparing some 'paint' in advance..."
After stowing the "paint," Gael stood and returned to Castle Morne with Edgar. Because he looked pitiful and hadn't caused trouble inside the city, the people there knew little of Old Man Gael's true nature.
Coming from the Dark Souls world and once a slave knight, he found it easy to get along with the city's many strange residents. Before long, he had blended in, even making a few new friends.
One of them was Albus, chief of the Albinauric Village, a figure like Latenna's grandfather. He and Gael got along instantly.
The reason was simple...
"You have a daughter too? And that bastard kidnapped your girl as well?"
That was basically it.
Besides Albus, Gael also met Boc, the demi-human tailor, who often came to Albus for advice because he wasn't the brightest. Naturally, after Gael joined, Boc met him too.
When Gael learned Boc was working for Lloyd and wanted to be more useful, he figured he might as well teach the boy something. He had nothing better to do anyway, and Boc's build seemed suitable.
"Nothing grand, just swordsmanship slaves used..."
"But for you, it might be just right."
And so, Gael settled in Castle Morne.
...
While Gael made a home in Castle Morne and the Weeping Peninsula grew more stable, things weren't so good elsewhere in the snowfields.
The first to suffer, of course, were the insects.
Being ideal for farming materials, they became Lloyd's top targets. He would comb through every area, dragging out insects even from the corners, torturing them to collapse before reluctantly moving on.
After the insects, the next to suffer were Those Who Live in Death.
Under orders to eliminate all other factions, they attacked Lloyd on sight. Their dual lives and durability made them his secondary resource.
But since they were smarter than insects, they surrendered after a few rounds of torment. As long as they yielded, Lloyd left them alone—so their treatment was far better.
As for the Stars and the Dolls...
Some Star-Eyed Aberrations tried to attack Lloyd, but before they could even finish charging, an Astel teleported in and smacked them into the ground.
It cleared the way for Lloyd and even gestured that if he needed anything, he only had to ask—they were willing to follow his orders.
Faced with that, Lloyd couldn't just keep fighting. He patted the creature's head and let it go.
The Dolls were a different story. These were degraded versions of the Albinauric puppets Lloyd had seen back at Volcano Manor.
The Albinaurics had absorbed their own self-substance, sacrificing themselves to form Albinauric Bloodclots that clung to the dolls, granting them temporary strength. With these bodies, they sought the legendary Haligtree, hoping to secure a shred of survival for their remaining kin.
Because of Latenna, Lloyd didn't fight them. But after hearing their story, his expression grew complicated.
"Then why are you fighting the other factions if you're not after the fragments?"
"Fragments? What fragments?"
The lead Doll froze.
"Aren't they trying to steal the Haligtree Medallion from us?"
At that, silence fell.
The Dolls' purpose here was entirely different—they didn't even know the fragments existed.
But the other factions assumed they were after the fragments too. Attacked without reason, the Dolls thought their enemies wanted the Haligtree Medallion and so were dragged into the snowfield chaos.
After Latenna explained the truth, barely holding back her laughter, the Dolls fell silent, stricken.
A long, awkward silence passed.
Finally, through Latenna's words, they offered their allegiance to Lloyd.
He accepted.
Then he drew his blade and killed them all.
The reason...
"These dolls are no different from the last—they're born from the Albinaurics burning away their lives."
"They gained power for a time, but at the cost of already being dead. What clings to them now is only leftover consciousness…"
"When that fades and the final restraint breaks, they'll become monsters. It's not like Fretia's case—she bound her obsession to her own soul, and the filth wanted to use her as a vessel, not destroy her. That's why a fragment of her soul survived."
"But these Dolls—when they were created, their souls were already gone. Even their last obsessions were bound to external self-substance, traded away for the strength to fight the other factions.
"With them, there's nothing left to save. The only thing I can give them is rest through battle."
So Lloyd raised his blade.
The Dolls manifested weapons of their own.
In the endless blizzard, blades clashed, cutting deep scars into the snow-covered peak.
Albinauric Bloodclot splattered as points of self-substance scattered into the air.
When it was over, Lloyd drew the White Dragon Sword and thrust its blade into the ground.
A crystalline storm swept across the snowfields, bringing the battle to an end.
[The bond of the Covenant has deepened]
[Obtained: Blessing of Platinum]
[A blessing left behind by the Albinaurics]
[When given to one who bears Platinum blood, its power can be drawn forth]
[The Albinaurics crossed the snowfields in search of the legendary road to the Haligtree, but found nothing]
[Yet at the end of their lives]
[They caught a glimpse of]
[The true Haligtree]
After inspecting the item and handing it to Latenna, Lloyd paused. At the spot where the Albinaurics had fallen, he carved a stone sword monument.
He placed it upon their grave and inscribed words in the script of the Lands Between:
[The Platinum War]
[Here rest warriors who willingly gave their lives for the survival of their people]
Then...
Then Lloyd extracted their souls and sent them to Renna for reincarnation. Though he couldn't bring them back to life, Renna's research on the Albinaurics had recently advanced and required their souls for reincarnation experiments. So Lloyd sent them straight to her.
In time, these newly born Albinaurics opened their eyes. Soon after, they stood up on their own.
Their forms were still incomplete, their steps unsteady.
But this was the first time, aside from Latenna herself, that Albinaurics had stood upon the earth through their own strength.
As Lloyd watched them struggle to walk, something in his pocket began to tremble.
[The Flame Knight Medallion is vibrating]
Messmer had come to deliver Lloyd's payment.
Earlier, since handling the souls of the Hornsent was troublesome, Messmer had asked Lloyd for a smelting furnace.
By rights, given the furnace's power, Messmer should have long since filled it and repaid Lloyd.
But the boy's sense of morality was high. He used the furnace sparingly, carefully investigating each soul's past life before casting judgment. Only those who were truly sinful were thrown into the fire.
It was less efficient, but ensured every soul cast in was deserving of its fate.
[Acquired: Sinner's Great Curved Sword]
[A massive blade formed from the twisted horns of the Crucible]
[Approach it, and you will hear the wails of tormented souls within]
[Yet this is not punishment]
[It is merely returning their 'hospitality' in kind]
[Exclusive Skill: Sinful Slash]
[By tormenting the souls within, their essence clings to the blade, which then swings forward]
[The skill can be chained up to five times, each strike calling forth a different power]
The Sinner's Greatsword scaled purely with Strength, boasting solid range and weight, with a skill that was... abstract.
Its wind-up was painfully long, even comparable to the Godslayer's Greatsword. But its reach far surpassed that, rivaling sorcery range. It granted immense poise during use, making it difficult to interrupt while delivering high stagger.
But that wasn't the strangest part.
The strangest part was that the skill had five stages, each with its own effect:
A storm of pure physical damage.
Frostbite from freezing cold.
Lightning strikes.
A blaze of fire.
And at the end, a vertical curse of Deathblight.
A lawnmower of a weapon.
That was Lloyd's verdict.
As for why it wasn't fit for bosses?
In theory, with its broken power, even base bosses could be shredded. But the ones Lloyd faced had all been pushed to extremes.
By the time he could finish the skill's full combo, he'd already be dead eight times over...
While Lloyd inspected his reward, Messmer noticed the nearby Albinaurics walking on their own.
After asking Lloyd about them, he was shocked and quickly requested a copy of the research.
"I also have an Albinauric friend who suffers from a crippling leg ailment..."
"Of course, I'll provide compensation. In my city, I've built a research facility containing much unique data. We can trade."
As Marika's most favored son in life, Messmer was far more capable than he often appeared.
Beyond his strong sense of morality and tendency to humanize the Lands Between, he placed great importance on technology.
He wasn't just building war beasts. He had also established a species preservation museum in his castle, ordering his men to minimize destruction during missions.
He gathered every scrap of knowledge he could—stone tablets the Hornsent had tossed aside, artifacts, histories—everything was collected and stored in the museum for study.
So while he might not have looked scholarly, in terms of sheer knowledge, Messmer rivaled the Academy.
But even he had his limits.
After further discussion, Messmer and Lloyd struck a deal: knowledge in exchange for the completed Albinauric restoration technique, which Messmer planned to use immediately on one of his veteran subordinates.
During their talks, he also learned things most others already knew, but he himself had not, having spent little time with Lloyd.
Like the Crucible Fragments, and the matter of aiding reincarnation.
Hearing those two things made Messmer's expression shift.
One of the main reasons he built the preservation hall and great library was to save certain people.
They were called the Numens—Marika's kin.
In the Lands Between, Queen Marika was called a "Numen." But that term wasn't a race—it meant "outsider."
The true race of Marika and the Black Knives who served under Lloyd were Witches.
Or rather, the survivors of the Numens.
To put it simply...
Long ago, before the Golden Order Dynasty rose, the Hornsent ruled the Lands Between with a thriving civilization.
And at the edge of their territory lived outsiders—the Numens.
The Numens were few, no more than a small village. Gentle and kind by nature, they settled peacefully, never clashing with the Hornsent. In fact, they even shared a friendly bond.
During festivals and holidays, they would even gift villagers with local specialties, which made them popular among the Hornsent.
After this continued for some time, just as the Numen were settling into this peaceful life, the Hornsent returned.
But this time, they did not bring their usual exchanges. They brought pain and destruction.
Had the Numen offended the Hornsent?
No—quite the opposite.
Far from offending them, as outsiders, the Numen were grateful simply to be allowed to live on the fringes of Hornsent civilization.
Being gentle and kind by nature, even when small conflicts arose, the Numen always chose to yield. Both sides lived in peace, never once descending into real strife.
But what they never expected was that this very kindness would invite their destruction.
The Hornsent had a custom known as "making a vessel."
Unlike the vessels of the Lands Between, however, the Hornsent's vessels were instruments of punishment for criminals. They performed a ritual that allowed a body—even after being hacked into minced flesh—to remain alive as scattered lumps of meat.
Through this ritual, the sinner's life was preserved. Then, by constant whippings and mutilations, the Hornsent reduced them to a pile of living pulp.
Afterward, while keeping that pulp alive, they stuffed it into the vessel, believing this process would force the sinner to reincarnate as a "good person" in the next life.
Abstract? Very much so.
But what followed was even more twisted.
So far, bizarre as it was, it remained the Hornsent's internal custom. Outsiders had no right to interfere, and it had nothing to do with the Numen.
The problem was, no one could predict the Hornsent's distorted logic.
Once they came to know the Numen—especially recognizing their gentleness and kindness—they had an idea.
"Hey, since they're so kind, wouldn't putting them into vessels increase the chances of sinners reincarnating as good people?"
A brilliant revelation, in their eyes.
So the Hornsent seized the Numen, treating them as material for their vessels. After enduring the same torment, they too were stuffed inside.
And the Numen's own opinions?
The Hornsent didn't care.
Some claimed the Numen's kindness and weakness were gifts from the gods, their existence meant solely for reincarnation. "You Numen were born for this," they said.
Others even thought it a blessing—being so kind and frail, merging with sinners to become both powerful and virtuous would surely be a good thing.
Though terrified now, they would one day be grateful.
Twisted doesn't even begin to describe it.
Incidentally, the Hornsent treated their own people much the same way. Discrimination and persecution within their tribe never ceased.
In fact, compared to how they treated their own, their attitude toward the Numen could almost be called "respectful."
Later, after Marika ascended to godhood, she sent Messmer as her dark hand to purge the Hornsent from the Land of Shadow.
But the slain kin could never be revived.
As for the survivors, since Two Fingers had helped Marika in this matter, they became his retainers. Serving as Black Knife Assassins, they played a major role in the rise of the Golden Order Dynasty. After Two Fingers retired, they each went their own way.
Many chose to follow Moonlight Twelfinger, favored successor of the Golden Two Fingers, while others followed Ranni, Marika's beloved youngest daughter.
The rest either stayed in the Royal Capital or went down into the underground tombs. Though diminished, they still managed to live on.
Yet no matter how hard life was for the Black Knives, it was far better than the fate of their kin left in the Land of Shadow.
When Messmer defeated the Hornsent, he rescued those still alive within the vessels—the mothers' kin who had not yet died.
But rescue was not salvation. It was only the beginning of a nightmare.
Because of the Hornsent rituals, even the survivors had already been hacked apart, reduced to pulp, then stuffed into jars.
The abuse had left them with grievous physical and mental scars.
And for the sake of "rebirth," their bodies had been stitched together with flesh from both kin and Hornsent criminals.
In the end, they became monstrosities—like swollen tumors grown into vaguely human shapes with four limbs.
Their situation was so complex that, even after the rescue, Messmer tried everything he could to heal them.
But the best he could do was use the Eye Veil to grant them a final illusion of happiness before watching them die.
He never gave up on trying to save those masses of flesh.
But he had come to realize that, with his abilities, curing them was impossible—at least for a very long time.
But now...
"The situation you describe is indeed difficult."
Lloyd thought for a moment.
"I can't promise I can cure them, but if you want, next time bring me a case. I'll study it..."
"Alright."
Messmer nodded, then discussed with Lloyd how to bring one over.
Since the Land of Shadow was cut off from the outside, he could only come in spirit form. Bringing knowledge was one thing, but bringing a person was much harder.
In the past, Lloyd might have found it troublesome.
But now, with Alice's Covenant, even if Messmer couldn't come in person, sending a subordinate was simply a matter of opening an entry.
"I'll summon you once the Fire Knight Medallion is fully charged."
"Good. I'll prepare knowledge and candidates."
With that, Messmer's spirit faded away.
After he left, Lloyd spoke a little with Renna. Once assured there was nothing else, he returned to the Consecrated Snowfield, continuing along the path of Grace.
Then, as he crossed an open snowfield, a towering figure descended from the sky.
Clad in the robes of the Land of Reeds, wearing a demon mask, and wielding a massive naginata.
"You're the one who killed the insect, aren't you?"
It raised its head, bracing the naginata in front, and peered at Lloyd through the mask before nodding.
"A fine vessel. Lord Shura will surely be pleased."
"Then—"
The figure leapt, the enormous naginata crashing down with such force that wind and snow erupted in a violent surge.
"Let me test your strength!"
BOOM!