"Extinguish the three flames, and the door to the Blood of the Wolf shall open."
As the words appeared before them, a white, ethereal figure materialized before Maru and her party.
The figure was a man clad in strange, worn armor—his pointed triangular hat and crow-like mask completely concealed his face. A tattered cloak hung loosely behind him, fluttering as if stirred by a wind only he could feel. The aura he emitted was heavy, ancient, and suffused with mystery.
He raised his greatsword horizontally, pressing a short dagger against the flat of its blade. Then, bowing his head slightly, he performed a gesture both solemn and unreadable.
A ritual salute, perhaps?
Whatever it was, the apparition's dramatic entrance left everyone momentarily frozen.
"Th-this isn't a real person, right?" one of the adventurers stammered, circling the ghostly Abyss Watcher from a safe distance. Curiosity urged him closer, but even he didn't dare move too near.
Even as a mere projection, the warrior radiated an overwhelming sense of reverence—and quiet dread. His presence carried a weight not unlike that of the Dragon Slayer himself.
"He must've been a master swordsman," Terl muttered, eyes gleaming with barely concealed envy at the sight of the greatsword.
"I feel like 'strong' doesn't even begin to describe him," someone else whispered.
Beyond the Firelink Shrine stretched a long gorge leading to Farron Keep. As they crossed, the sunlight gradually dimmed—like stepping from one age into another.
Moments ago, the sky above the shrine had been bright and blue. Now, the world before them was cloaked in gloom. It felt like crossing from a living world straight into its dying echo.
The landscape of Farron Keep didn't disappoint.
"This looks... way too familiar," Maru muttered, glancing at the murky brown swamps, the withered trees, and the columns of black smoke rising in the distance. "Wait—this place hasn't changed at all!?"
"Technically, it has," Roger said, pointing toward the burning pyres scattered across the wetlands. "Last time, we lit the fires. This time, we're putting them out."
"..."
"I really don't wanna slog through mud again," Maru groaned. "Can't we just summon that dragon you caught? Let's ride it across!"
Roger shot her a deadpan look. "Hathaway's at home. Sleeping."
"Sleeping!? You're letting that kind of combat power nap at home!?"
"Hathaway's my partner, not a weapon," Roger replied curtly. "You think I'm the kind of guy who throws my friends into every fight?"
Maru fell silent, uncertain whether to call him noble—or just weird.
Left with no better choice, the group trudged into the swamp once more. Their goal was clear: follow the smoke and extinguish the pyres.
But after only a few steps, something felt wrong.
The swamp was deeper than before—some spots nearly up to their knees—and the sludge clung to their legs like living things, tugging at each step.
At this rate, even a minor skirmish would turn into a disaster. Dodging was out of the question; anyone who tried rolling in this muck would only end up humiliated.
Sensing the danger, everyone instinctively heightened their vigilance.
"Drew, old man," Maru pleaded, "can't you make us float or something? Or freeze this swamp solid? Come on, this is miserable!"
"Endure," Drew replied flatly.
Levitation magic could lift someone about ten centimeters above the ground—but the swamp didn't count as ground. If they tried it here, they'd just glide awkwardly across the surface like cursed marionettes.
As for freezing the entire swamp... Drew's brow twitched. If I could freeze something this big, I'd be a royal court mage by now.
Then—
"Pffft—!"
One of the adventurers suddenly coughed up blood, his face turning an ugly shade of purple.
"He's poisoned! Antidote—quick!"
Only then did everyone realize—the swamp's toxicity had evolved again. No visible symptoms, no warning—just instant infection.
"So vicious," Maru hissed, downing half a bottle of purple antidote. Relief spread through her body almost immediately.
The antidote, refined from Purple Moss found in the dungeon, was one of Bedford's alchemical marvels. Its concentrated form was rumored to cure any poison... though that formula was still incomplete.
For now, all they could do was press on—wading through venom and exhaustion alike.
"Hey, look over there," someone said, pointing ahead. "Weird wooden frames... and corpses?"
Indeed, eerie wooden structures lined the path—some still bound with decayed bodies. Judging from the bones, they weren't human.
Wolves, maybe?
It had to be connected to the "Blood of the Wolf" mentioned earlier.
"Hey, I see something glowing under that tree," another adventurer called out. "Could be loot."
He took a cautious step closer, then hesitated. "Wait... I remember this dungeon has monsters hiding under shiny loot spots."
He jabbed his spear into the mud a few times.
Squelch—!
A splash of dark, foul blood bubbled up.
"Ha! Knew it! Always trust your instincts."
Smirking, he bent down to grab the glowing item—only for something massive to drop from above.
"Splurt—!"
Several enormous slugs, each larger than a grown man, fell from the trees with a disgusting wet sound. The unfortunate adventurer was crushed flat, air bubbling from his mouth as he flailed helplessly in the sludge.
The others rushed to help—but the slugs retaliated with a spray of thick, stinking slime so foul that Maru nearly retched.
"Ugh, that's disgusting!"
She hurled one of her blades like a throwing knife, impaling a slug clean through. The rest were swiftly dispatched by the group's combined assault.
The adventurer survived... barely. Though judging by his face, he probably wished he hadn't.
"I swear these monsters exist just to disgust us," Maru grumbled, kicking off a chunk of slime from her boot.
Drew quietly cast a cleaning spell, restoring some dignity to the poor man before they moved on.
Finally, they reached a patch of solid ground—a small hill crowned by a roaring pyre. The first beacon.
"Graaagh!"
Several thin, warped humanoids burst from the shadows, tumor-like horns jutting from their heads as they howled and charged.
[Ghru]
[Combat Power: E+ ~ E++]
Each wielded splintered spears and crude wooden shields.
The battle was fierce but brief. Against veterans who had faced Crucible Knights, these Ghrus were little more than training dummies. Even the weaker adventurers held their own—barely.
When it ended, one man stayed behind, clearly trying to avoid effort.
"With these pros around, I can just take it easy," he muttered, relaxing his stance.
That was when he noticed a hunched figure crawling toward him—on all fours.
A weaponless Ghru. Wild. Primal.
"Figures," he said, raising his shield and rapier. "It lunges, I parry. Easy."
Normally, that tactic worked fine.
But this was Sein Dungeon.
And its monsters knew grapples.
"AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The group had just finished cleaning up when a bloodcurdling scream echoed from behind. They turned—just in time to see the Ghru mounted on the adventurer's shoulders, clawing violently at his head.
It was a hair-washing technique—executed at maximum intensity.
By the time they pried him free, his face was shredded, body limp. A second later, he turned to ash—revived back at the bonfire.
"Should we... wait for him?" someone asked awkwardly.
"No need," Terl said coolly. "He's not making it through that swamp alone. Going back would just waste time."
He turned toward the hilltop. "Let's move. Doubt he'll hold a grudge."
At the summit, they found the blazing beacon. Just as Terl reached to extinguish it, Roger stopped him.
"Wait. There's a statue."
Indeed, beside the pyre stood the stone figure of an old man with a crown and flowing beard—Gwyn, Lord of Cinder.
The abstract statue loomed over the flames, immortalizing his fabled act of linking the First Flame.
Drew studied it quietly, mentally noting every detail for his sketches later.
"Doesn't seem all that symbolic to me," Terl shrugged. "I'm putting it out."
Ignoring the searing heat, he pressed his palm into the fire and snuffed it out in one motion.
A simple act—but in this dungeon, the phrase extinguish the fire carried an unsettling gravity.
The group exchanged uneasy glances with the statue, half expecting the old man to step out and smack them for their blasphemy.
Then, as they turned toward the next pillar of smoke—
The entire landscape shifted.
Maru grinned. "Ahh. Now that's more like it."
Somewhere deep within the fortress, one of three great braziers before a sealed gate flickered... then dimmed.
They had extinguished the first flame.