In the end, it was Melina who broke the silence.
"Um… is everything all right?" she asked gently, her voice tinged with concern.
Lucian blinked, pulled from his daze. "My apologies. I lost my composure for a moment. Seeing you reminded me of someone from long ago." He buried the wave of emotions threatening to rise and offered the lie with practiced ease.
Melina gave a small nod. It was odd, but not implausible. "I see… You must have been very close."
"We were. She was my maiden. We traveled together, faced countless trials side by side. I thought those days might last forever… but in the end, she gave her life for mine."
She didn't know the truth—that the maiden in his story was her. To Melina, it simply sounded like the tale of a distant companion.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "That must've been painful. But if you still pursue the Elden Ring, then… you must continue forward, mustn't you?"
Lucian nodded slowly.
"And you?" he asked.
Melina took a breath, visibly relieved to see him steady again.
"As I mentioned earlier, I offer you an accord."
She hesitated, watching his expression carefully.
"Have you heard of the Finger Maidens?
They serve the Two Fingers, offering guidance, and aid, to the Tarnished."
"But you, I am afraid, are maidenless."
When Lucian didn't respond with irritation, she relaxed and continued.
"I can play the role of maiden.
Turning runes into strength.
To aid you in your search for the Elden Ring."
"In return," she added, "You need only take me with you.
To the foot of the Erdtree."
She looked at him expectantly. "What do you think?"
There was no reason to refuse, not really. Still, Lucian feigned thought for a few moments before replying.
"I don't know who you are exactly, but… it doesn't sound like I have anything to lose."
"So, is that a yes?"
He nodded.
"Yes. My name is Lucian. I look forward to working with you… my maiden."
Melina's lips curled ever so slightly, a faint smile gracing her usually stoic face.
"Then it's settled.
Summon me by grace to turn runes into strength."
Lucian stared at that smile, and his heart thudded hard in his chest.
The Melina he remembered from his past life had always worn a calm, unreadable expression—people even joked she was made of wood. Now, smiling as she was, she looked like a glacier touched by sunlight—softened, radiant, beautiful.
It was a breathtaking contrast. And in that moment, Lucian felt that if he were to die again, he'd die with no regrets.
"Can we do it now?" he asked, stepping closer. "Convert the runes?"
Melina nodded and extended her hand.
"Let my hand rest upon you, for but a moment."
As her pale hand reached out, Lucian noticed the burn scars that marred her skin—raw, raised patterns etched along her palm and fingers. His chest ached at the sight.
Melina saw his expression and mistook it for revulsion. Her fingers trembled, starting to withdraw.
"Forgive me. It must be unsightly. Next time, I shall wear gloves—"
Before she could retreat, Lucian took her hand in his. Gently, firmly.
Melina stiffened, startled like a deer caught in torchlight.
H-Huh?! Why did he grab my hand so naturally? Is this how normal people react to scars?
Her hand, small and fragile, was easily enveloped by his. She looked down, unsure how to react.
"They're not ugly," he said, voice low and certain. "You've been through a lot. I can see that. But from now on… I'll protect you. I won't lose my maiden a second time."
She lowered her head quickly to hide her expression. After a pause, she gave a quiet, almost imperceptible "Mm."
Melina drew a deep breath, trying to slow the rapid thumping in her chest.
She hadn't expected that. She hadn't even pulled her hand away.
Oh no, she thought. Torrent's found me a strange one this time…
Wait. Wasn't I the one who asked him to let me touch him?
By the time she looked up, her face was composed again—but she knew the calm she showed was a mask.
"I shall begin the conversion now. Don't resist."
Golden light began to flow from Lucian's core, drawn out by Melina's touch. The runes—shimmering motes of power—gathered in her palm, warm and radiant.
"You currently hold just over 2,200 runes," she informed him. "That is enough for two attribute advancements. You may distribute them among the following: Vigor, Mind, Endurance, Strength, Dexterity, Intelligence, Faith, or Arcane."
"Boost Vigor and Dexterity" Lucian replied.
She nodded in acknowledgment, then released the energy. The golden light flowed back into him—but this time, it didn't just return. It sank into his flesh, merged with muscle and bone, becoming part of him.
It was irreversible.
Lucian had chosen carefully. When Melina asked earlier, a translucent status window had appeared before him—like a game interface from his previous life.
Current Attributes
Vigor: 15
Mind: 10
Endurance: 11
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 13
Intelligence: 9
Faith: 9
Arcane: 7
A typical Vagabond-class spread. Solid Vigor, Strength, and Dexterity. No glaring weaknesses.
Low Intelligence, Faith, and Arcane weren't a problem yet.
What mattered now was survivability—especially to handle the recoil of using Wind Spirit Moon Shadow's skill, which needed high tolerance for mistakes. Against the Grafted Scion, his invincibility triggered automatically only once. He'd have to activate it himself next time.
More Vigor meant more health—a buffer against sudden death. Higher Dexterity meant faster movement, quicker dodges, tighter windows for flawless strikes.
The transfer finished quickly. His stats now read:
Vigor: 16
Dexterity: 14
"All done," Melina said. "Your runes have been successfully converted. But be warned—the stronger you grow, the more runes each upgrade will cost."
Lucian released her hand. A bittersweet realization settled over him.
That was the first time… he'd ever held a girl's hand.
Melina, perhaps sensing the shift in mood, reached under her cloak and retrieved several items.
In her left hand, a soft golden ring that pulsed with gentle light. In her right, two golden flasks—one filled with red liquid, the other blue.
She handed him the flasks first.
"These are Sacred Flasks containing Crystal Tears" she explained. "A sacred flask modelled after a golden holy chalice that was once graced by a tear of life. Filled with crimson tears, this flask restores life with use. Filled with cerulean tears, this flask restores focus with use."
"Don't be afraid to use them. Whenever you rest at a Site of Grace, the contents will be replenished."
Lucian nodded and packed them away carefully. Life-saving tools, no doubt.
Next, she held out the golden ring.
"Use it to traverse great distances. It works like a whistle. Blow on it, and it will summon a spectral steed named Torrent."
"Torrent has chosen you. I hope you'll treat him with respect."
Lucian accepted it with both hands, his expression solemn. He slipped it onto the ring finger of his left hand—where he'd just removed his gauntlet.
Something about the gesture felt… significant.