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Tarnished let out a tired breath and gently patted Melina's back as she remained clung to him, her arms tense despite the warmth of her embrace. He gave a quiet, raspy chuckle. "Hey… I'm the one who almost died back there. Why do you look like the one most affected here?"
Melina stiffened immediately, pulling back from him just enough to shoot a sharp glare, her cheeks already turning a dangerous shade of pink.
Before she could retort, Siegmeyer threw his head back with a booming laugh. "That's because she was worried for your life, my good friend!" he declared, thumping a gauntleted fist to his chest. "It is only natural for a fair maiden to fear for her knight's safety!"
Tarnished smirked and turned his head toward Melina, that all-too-familiar teasing gleam dancing in his eyes. "Ohhhh, I get it now. You're scared for me because you're obviously in love with me."
The words had barely left his mouth before her fist shot out and buried itself into his gut.
The blow would have doubled a lesser man over, but his Night's Cavalry armor absorbed most of the impact, turning it into a mere shove. He stumbled back, lost his footing, and collapsed flat onto his back with a loud clang, laughing all the way down.
Melina stood over him, arms crossed tight across her chest, head turned aside in pure denial. Her lower lip stuck out in a full, mortified pout, the flush on her face betraying her every unspoken word.
Siegmeyer chuckled softly and shook his head at them, stepping forward with that familiar, jovial gait. "Ah, young hearts…" he mused. "But alas, my friends, I must be off."
Still lying in the dirt, Tarnished propped himself up on his elbows. "Off where?" he asked, still grinning.
The Onion Knight let out a low sigh and slid his Zweihander back into its holster. He shrugged with a faint rattle of his massive pauldrons. "I know not… Wherever the wind shall take me, I suppose. Perhaps I shall attend that Festival of Combat they speak of over at Redmane Castle, when the time comes for it."
At that, Tarnished's eyes lit up with boyish excitement. He scrambled to his feet. "Wait, seriously? I wanna go too! Do you know when it starts?"
Siegmeyer hummed in thought, rubbing at the chin of his great helm. "Ah… I do recall it being said that the festival happens once every full moon. A most glorious gathering of warriors under the night sky."
Melina, still facing away and red-faced, begrudgingly confirmed in a quiet, slightly flustered tone. "That is… correct."
Tarnished couldn't help but laugh again, his eyes darting to Melina's side-profile as she stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. Her embarrassed pout only deepened.
Siegmeyer placed a heavy hand on Tarnished's shoulder and gave him a nod. "Farewell, my friend. Let us meet again some other day, if the morning sun wills it so!"
With that, the great knight turned and strode off through the fading mists, his silhouette soon swallowed by the red haze of Caelid.
Melina let out a long, exasperated huff, finally turning to Tarnished with narrowed eyes. "Can we please leave now? This place smells horrible. Like the rest of Caelid, but somehow even worse. How much longer must we stay in this hell?"
Tarnished chuckled under his breath and sent his greatsword into his inventory for convenience. "Relax, we're past the worst of it. Just a few more things to tick off the list, and then we're out of here."
She sighed in pure relief, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Finally…"
Tarnished approached the commander's broken form, the once-proud warrior's torso barely clinging to the rest of his body amidst a pool of slowly darkening blood. Heat still radiated from his corpse, a grim reminder that death here never quite arrived cleanly.
Tarnished knelt down beside him, eyes scanning for the one thing that mattered now. 'Where is it…? The Unalloyed Gold Needle should've popped up by now.'
Just as his gauntleted fingers reached out toward the commander's ruined chest, O'Neil coughed, a jagged, wet sound that splattered blood across his breastplate. He gasped for air, a death rattle turned into something almost sentient.
"Motherfucker-!" Tarnished yelped, falling back onto his rear as his hand instinctively reached for the closest blade. Melina cried out in surprise, already conjuring a flaming spear and aiming it directly at the commander's frost-crusted helm.
Tarnished scrambled, hand slapping across the mucked ground until his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his discarded Uchigatana. He swung it up, tip poised just above O'Neil's remaining eye, teeth clenched as he prepared to drive it straight through.
But O'Neil weakly raised a trembling hand. "S-Stop… wait…" he rasped through gory lips.
Tarnished hesitated, glancing at Melina. She gave him a tense nod but didn't lower the spear—its burning tip hovered inches from the commander's temple, a warning and a promise.
O'Neil exhaled, the sound almost a sigh of relief despite the agony etched into every line of his body. His eyes slowly opened, dull but strangely calm.
'Poor bastard…' Tarnished thought, his grip on the blade loosening ever so slightly. 'Living through this? That's worse than dying outright.'
"Thou should not worry thyself over that." Marika's voice coiled into his mind like velvet over steel. "Thy frost breath likely froze most of his organs, that must be why he's still alive. He will not last long. A minute or two at most…"
Tarnished relaxed a fraction. "You good?" he asked bluntly, arching a brow at the half-dead commander.
O'Neil turned his head just enough to give him the most deadpan glare possible under the circumstances.
Tarnished shrugged. "Just checking…"
With great effort, O'Neil shifted his head to face the sky. His voice came low and rough, nearly drowned by the shallow wet gasps between every word. "I… bear no grudge against you, brat. Nor your maiden. Though… not the fairest of circumstances… you still bested me."
He coughed again, blood flecking his lips as his eye drifted upward. "Strange thing, that. The younger generation… growing stronger." His breath caught painfully in his chest. "At least… some hope still lingers in this mad world."
Tarnished shifted uncomfortably, fingers still tense on his sword hilt.
But then O'Neil's lone eye turned back toward him, sharp despite the clouding haze of death. "But… before I go… I would offer you a warning."
That drew Tarnished's full attention. His gaze narrowed. "Warn us? About what?"
O'Neil sucked in a thin, ragged breath that rattled ominously in his chest. For a long moment, he just lay there, his gaze distant as if sifting through a lifetime of memories. Then, in a voice almost too soft to hear, he spoke:
"I still remember… the faces and names… of every comrade and brother I ever lost to this cursed land." His head tilted slightly. "But that Onion Knight…? He was never amongst them."
The words hit the air like a thunderclap admist the silence.
Tarnished blinked hard, eyes darting to Melina. She turned to meet his gaze, surprise flashing behind the embers of her still-summoned flame. Neither of them spoke, but the implication hung between them like a sword on a fraying thread.
O'Neil let his head fall back against the blood-soaked ground, his voice quieter now, fading. "Do with that what you will… Believe me… or don't. Matters not. But… before I die…"
He shuddered, his lips trembling. "One final favor… Please… move me. Let me gaze upon the Erdtree… One last time. Grant me this mercy."
For a moment, Tarnished stood motionless, eyes wide. Then slowly, he nodded.
He sheathed his Uchigatana and crouched down, gently hauling O'Neil's battered form against the nearby stone wall, propping him upright with his back supported, his face turned toward the distant golden beacon.
And there it stood, The Erdtree.
Its divine form soared beyond the corrupted skies of Caelid, untouched by the rot and ruin that plagued every inch of this land. Even from here, its colossal branches stretched across the heavens like the arms of a god, golden leaves swaying gently against an unseen breeze.
Light poured from it, it was not sunlight, but something older, purer, as if the grace of the Greater Will still lingered despite the festering chaos below.
O'Neil's eye glimmered faintly as he stared at it, a small, broken smile curling his bloodied lips. "Just as beautiful… as the first time I laid eyes upon it… Mayhaps… even more so…"
His chest rose one final time, breath shallow, eyes glazing over.
"Oh… Queen Marika… Why hath thou forsaken us…?"
His head lolled to the side. The light faded from his eyes. And at last… he was still.
[Runes Acquired: 58,000]
[Item Acquired: Broken Unalloyed Gold Needle]
[Item Acquired: Commander's Standard]
Tarnished stayed there in silence, watching the life slip away from the veteran who had, in his final moments, found peace not through victory—but through the simple grace of a final view.
He exhaled slowly. "Rest easy, old man."
"Forsaken…?" Marika's voice echoed through his thoughts, low and hollow before curling into a bitter, humorless laugh. "Haha~! What naïve cruelty… that in his final breath, he still believed I would answer. That I could still answer."
She sighed, the sound filled with centuries of regret wrapped in fading defiance. "What a dismal state of affairs…"
Tarnished remained crouched next to O'Neil's cooling body, fingers brushing the fabric of his ruined cloak. 'She sounds… tired.'
"Hey… You good?" he asked aloud, his voice low, unsure.
Marika's voice returned, softer but carrying that ever-present weight of command. "I am fine. Just… I hope thou understand by now how important thy quest is. How vital thy purpose as my Champion. Far too much relies on thee. Failure…. Is not an option. It can not be."
Tarnished remained quiet, eyes lingering on the peaceful, lifeless stare of the old commander. For all his fury in life, O'Neil looked almost content now.
"I understand."
Melina's soft footsteps approached, her presence a quiet warmth against the cold air. She knelt beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" she asked gently. "And… How is Marika? My… Mother?"
She said the last part hesitantly, almost as if she was testing if it even felt right coming from her mouth. And by the sound of it, it did not, not yet.
Tarnished pushed himself to his feet, letting out a breath and forcing a small smile. "She's fine. And we need to keep moving."
Melina studied him for a second longer, then returned the smile with a quiet nod. Together, they turned from the battlefield.
With a flick of his hand, Tarnished sheathed his Uchigatana into his inventory. He approached the center of the blood-soaked field, fingers brushing the faint golden shimmer in the air. A Site of Grace flickered to life beneath his touch, its warmth radiating out and washing over him.
He sat on it, feeling the familiar rush of healing as his flasks refilled and the grime, blood, and every painful trace of battle simply melted away. His armor shone clean, the gaping hole that had been torn through his chestplate, and through his body, not even a scar now.
For a long moment, he simply sat there, pressing a hand over his stomach where the wound had been. The flesh was whole. Perfect. 'Like it never even happened…'
"In truth, 'tis a miracle thou survived at all," Marika muttered, her voice low and even. "Scarlet Rot hath claimed countless lives swifter than breath, yet thou didst endure. Mayhaps… the devouring of that blighted Dragon's heart – Ekzykes, was it? – Granted thee some innate resistance to its curse."
He chuckled at his Goddess' usual analysis, simply choosing to be glad to have survived despite how interesting the potential of such a change was to him. He shook his head to shoo the lingering disbelief away, then stood and fell into step beside Melina.
After a minute of walking, he asked aloud, "Hey, Marika… Why can't you just, y'know, activate any Site of Grace for me remotely? Wouldn't that save me a lot of trouble?"
Golden light shimmered before him, and Marika materialized, lazily reclining on a cloud of radiant grace, propped up on her elbows with her chin resting in her palm.
"It does not work like that." She drawled, voice lilting and faintly amused. "What thou dost when 'activating' a site is creating an anchor, a beacon, for my Grace to latch onto. From there, I can craft the pathways thou knowest as Sites of Grace."
Tarnished tilted his head thoughtfully. "Huh… So is there any way I can just teleport myself around without needing your help? Or a waygate?"
She gave him a sly little smirk. "Obviously, teleportation and translocation spells are far from rare. However…"
Her smirk seemed to deepen with amusement. "At thy current level, thou hast neither the Intelligence nor the Faith to wield such spells. And the mana cost… Fufu~! Best leave that fantasy for when thou art truly worthy."
Tarnished blinked, then let out a bitter sigh.. "Well, at the very least I got a clear answer… Still too dumb and weak to do any cool magic…"
"Mhm~! And do not forget heretical as well, my Champion~!" Marika's voice rang sweet and mocking. "Too stupid and too much of a lost little blasphemer to perform even the simplest of magical dignities. How very sad~!"
Tarnished exhaled sharply through his nose. "Uh-huh… You sound real broken up about it."
Beside him, Melina shot him a flat look as they walked. "It is… peculiar, watching thee speak at length to nothingness. Should we not find a way for me to hear her as well? I fear this will grow tiresome before long…"
Marika and Tarnished both turned their heads to stare at her.
Then slowly, as if by unspoken agreement, they turned back to each other and burst into laughter.
Melina narrowed her eyes, her arms crossing again as that familiar dangerous pout returned to her lips. Her fingers twitched faintly, whether toward violence or setting something nearby on fire was anyone's guess.
Tarnished and Melina crested a low rise of sickly fungus, the bulbous growths squelching faintly beneath their boots as they hugged the crumbling shoreline. Just ahead, a leaning, weathered tower loomed over the beach, its stone worn smooth by age and the endless caress of rot-laden winds.
They passed beneath its broken shadow and found themselves on a road of fractured stone, the worn path leading directly toward the pale, spectral ruins ahead. Selia, the Town of Sorcery.
Tarnished nodded to the right, gesturing casually. "We wanna head that way."
Melina offered a faint shrug, her cloak swaying as she followed in quiet step, her gaze lingering on the eerie, flickering lights that danced like will-o'-the-wisps over the broken town.
From just over his shoulder, Marika lounged comfortably atop her floating cloud of grace, eyes half-lidded but sharp as ever. "I do not mean to ruin the mood," she drawled lazily, "but art thou truly content to pretend thou didst not hear the warning that commander left thee?"
Tarnished sighed. "Oh… that."
Marika arched an elegant brow. "Yes, that. Art thou not concerned in the slightest about thy supposed friend's potential betrayal? Mayhaps he is not the same man thou rememberest from another world. Not like that… other constant. What was his name? Patches, was it?"
Tarnished hummed thoughtfully, hands clasped behind his head as he walked. "Yeah, you're right. He's no Patches, that's exactly why I'm not worried."
Melina tilted her head toward him, her eye narrowing slightly. "Worried about what, Tarnished?"
Without missing a step, he replied, "Marika's asking about O'Neil's little parting gift, his warning about Siegmeyer."
Melina's lips parted, her expression shifting with concern. "Ah… yes. I had intended to speak of that just now. What do you propose we do?"
Tarnished tapped a finger against his chin in mock contemplation, then grinned. "Absolutely nothing."
Both Melina and Marika turned to him in perfect sync, eyes mirroring the exact same flat, unimpressed stare.
He barked a short laugh. "Hah! Like mother, like daughter, indeed…"
With a shrug, he continued. "Look, no matter the circumstances, I just can't picture Siegmeyer betraying us. It makes no sense. And really, would you trust the dying words of a man whose mind was half-eaten by Scarlet Rot, and who I personally had to help into the afterlife?"
Melina pressed her lips together, her brows furrowing. "I suppose… not. But…" Her voice grew quiet, uncertain. "What reason would he have to lie?"
Tarnished spread his hands. "Good question. What about Siegmeyer? What does he stand to gain by lying?"
Marika rolled her eyes and offered in that familiar, scathing tone. "Mayhaps he wished to lead thee into battle before thou wert ready. A convenient death for two troublesome souls?"
Tarnished waved a hand dismissively. "Please. The man fought beside us without faltering once. If he wanted us dead, he had every opportunity to let it happen. And even if he tried, what would it accomplish? I'm practically immortal, and Melina could just disappear into the Aether whenever she likes. No… Whatever is going on with Siegmeyer, I just don't see it being malicious."
Melina glanced aside, unconvinced.
"And you are certain of this?" she asked softly, almost hopeful despite herself.
Tarnished gave her a warm smile, reaching out to pat her lightly on the back. "Positive. Trust me. All will be well."
Melina sighed through her nose, a faint blush dusting her cheeks despite her best efforts to appear calm. She looked away, hiding the small smile curling at her lips. "Very well… I shall trust in your confidence. For now."
As they continued along the road toward the haunted spires of Selia, Tarnished smirked to himself. 'Besides… if it's who I think it is behind that onion helmet… this could be really funny.'
"And who might that be, I wonder?" Marika teased, her golden cloud drifting lazily alongside him as she leaned closer with a knowing smirk.
He raised a mental finger sharply. 'Ah-ah! No peeking! You'll ruin the surprise!'
Marika's eyes gleamed with faint amusement as she lounged back on her cloud. "Fine~! I shall allow thee this one indulgence. But know this, my Champion… I shall have my answers in time."
Tarnished grinned wider, the mischief almost radiating off him. 'Hehe~… knew you loved me too.'
Her smirk deepened, her golden eyes half-lidded and dangerous. "Careful now, my Champion. Do not press thy luck."
"Yeah, yeah…" Tarnished muttered aloud, hands resting lazily on his sword belt as he walked on through the fading light.
Behind him, Melina sighed heavily, her eye closing in long-suffering exasperation. "Truly… the two of you are impossible…"
As they followed the worn road past the edges of Selia, a low, guttural growl rolled through the thick air. Sitting rigidly at attention near a rotting shack was a monstrous hound, its flesh stretched too tight over exposed muscle and jagged bone. Pale, blind-looking eyes locked onto them, and though it didn't lunge immediately, it cast them a warning glance, lips curled back over teeth like daggers.
Tarnished, of course, started walking directly toward it.
Melina let out a sigh heavy with practiced exasperation, already preparing the incantation for a Flame Spear in her palm. "Must thou always approach danger as if it were a dear friend?" she muttered under her breath.
The hound tensed at Tarnished's advance, growling louder, body coiling like a spring ready to snap.
But just before the beast pounced, a weathered voice called from within the shack. "Easy now, my friend. Calm yourself."
Instantly, the monstrous hound settled, growling under its breath but retreating slightly. From the shadows of the shack, a hunched figure emerged, his gait slow but deliberate.
Gowry appeared, his aged form swathed in a ragged scholar's robe that had long since lost any trace of its original color. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken yet alight with a strange, almost fanatical clarity, and his thin fingers trembled slightly as he reached out to pat the beast's snout.
"Oh, a pleasure to see you. A pleasure indeed," he said with a strained smile. "I am Gowry. A great sage… in my day anyway." He folded his hands, peering at Tarnished with barely restrained curiosity. "I'd hoped to ask a favor. You are the one who battled the Commander in the heart of Aeonia, yes?"
Tarnished laughed, his smirk cocky. "What gave it away?"
Gowry's eyes glimmered faintly with something like hope. "Who wouldn't hear such a battle when it raged so near? And by your survival, I take it you achieved victory over the commander?"
Tarnished crossed his arms and offered a satisfied grin. "That I did."
For a moment, Gowry seemed almost overcome with relief. His voice turned hushed, almost reverent. "Tell me… did you perhaps find a certain kind of needle upon his body? I seek it… to heal a young girl. Millicent is her name. You'll find her beyond Selia, resting in the church atop the cliff. She suffers terribly from the rotting sickness. If you have it… I would be eternally thankful."
Tarnished smirked and reached into his inventory, pulling out the two broken halves of the Unalloyed Gold Needle. "This what you're after?"
From her perch on a cloud of light nearby, Marika arched a golden brow. "Why art thou so willing to hand over such a valuable artifact, even if it lies broken?"
Tarnished answered her silently, his thoughts calm and certain. 'He's the only one I know who can fix it. And besides… I already want to save Millicent.'
Marika gave a soft hum of consideration, eyes narrowing faintly. "This girl… what is she to thee, I wonder?"
Tarnished fought down the grin threatening his lips, deliberately refusing to respond. Marika chuckled softly, reclining further into her cloud. "Very well, Champion. I shall indulge thy little drama for now."
Before him, Gowry's eyes had gone wide at the sight of the needle fragments. "Yes… yes! This is exactly what I needed." He beckoned them closer with a shaking hand, his voice trembling with sudden urgency. "Please… give it to me, and I shall do all I can to mend it. Together, we might yet save the poor girl."
"Wouldn't have come here otherwise." Tarnished nodded as he handed over the broken pieces without hesitation.
Gowry took the fragments as though they were sacred relics, turning them over gently in his hands. Without another word, he disappeared back into the shack, his voice echoing faintly through the broken boards. "This will take time… an hour or two at least. The needle's design is impossibly complex… I mustn't be hasty or risk marring it further. Please… wait until I have finished."
Tarnished turned away from the shack, stretching his arms overhead. "Guess we've got some time to kill," he muttered, already rubbing his chin in thought.
Melina walked beside him, her expression cautious. "Art thou certain it is wise to part so readily with something so precious?" she asked softly. "Do you truly trust the old man?"
Tarnished shrugged with that same reckless grin. "It'll be fine. Besides…" He snapped his fingers suddenly, eyes gleaming with excitement. "I got it! Who here wants to kill a dragon and then pay a visit to Maliketh, the Black Blade?"
Melina stared at him in stunned disbelief. Then sighed, a deep, tired, and utterly resigned sigh. "Why do I know I am going to regret this…"
And yet, despite the protest, she followed without hesitation. As always.
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Author's Note:
Sorry for the wait. Silksong, am I right? Shit's so peak, though, they did up the arbitrary difficulty dial ALL the way up.
Who the hell makes a boss run back across an entire region with only one checkpoint??? Sadists, istg.
Anyways, stones?
…
Next Chapter Title: How to Cheese a Dragon.
…
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