Beautiful? Me?
Millicent froze, staring at Lloyd, who was still hunched over, carefully tending to her decayed flesh—completely unaware of what he'd just said.
Unlike the other women around him, she had been born cursed. From the moment she came into existence, her fate was tied to the essence of rot—marked for suffering.
No sane person would befriend the embodiment of Scarlet Rot. No one with a normal sense of beauty would ever praise her ruined, festering body. Even the Kindred of Rot who guarded and tended to her weren't really there for her—they were protecting the corruption inside her.
No one had ever truly loved her. No one had ever truly cared. No one had ever called her beautiful.
She had always been like a forsaken child, curled up in some forgotten corner of the world, watching the busy streets from a distance—clutching something hollow in her arms. She didn't even know what it was anymore. But it was all she had left.
Time and again, she refused the scarlet hand that reached out to her.
Even though she knew—if she just took that hand—she could gain strength, live with less pain, maybe even have a better life.
Still, every time, she shook her head. She refused to reach back. She refused to let go of the hollow thing she held close to her chest.
It may have been meaningless. It may have been empty. It may have filled her with a strange sense of loss she couldn't name.
But she wouldn't let go.
Because that was all she had left.
Her last shred of dignity.
Even if her body rotted. Even if her soul broke. Even if a thousand mountains stood in her way, she would carry that dignity back—to that being. And to herself.
And now, the man crouched before her had looked at her—really looked—and told her, sincerely, "You're beautiful."
It wasn't just a compliment about her appearance.
It was acknowledgment.
It meant everything she'd endured wasn't meaningless.
At least to him... her struggle was something beautiful.
For the first time in her life, someone praised her.
For the first time in her life, someone saw her.
She didn't even know what to feel—because she had never felt this before.
So, overwhelmed and uncertain, she sat there in silence as Lloyd finished checking her condition. Her lips trembled for a long while before she managed to whisper,
"...Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Lloyd didn't notice anything unusual. He just answered plainly, pulled his hand back, and gave a nod.
"At this rate, I should be able to make you a prototype arm in two days. It'll probably have a few kinks—maybe some lag in control or stiff joints—but no worries, I do after-sales. I'll tweak it as we go..."
He paused, remembering something.
"Oh, right—you mentioned before you had a mission, didn't you? Things are calm here, and Melina's not rushing me. If you need help, I can go with you once the battle festival's done."
Millicent tilted her head, looking down at her severed arm.
Especially the wound—one that had already started to heal under someone's devoted care.
After a long pause, she gave a slow nod.
"...Okay."
Lloyd was about to stand and leave—but paused when he caught sight of her again. Head bowed, shoulders hunched, like a little red flower curled in on itself.
He thought for a second, then reached out and gently rubbed the "petal."
"Uh... you..."
"It's nothing. I just think you're cute and wanted to touch you."
Lloyd said it without hesitation.
"Consider it your reward."
With that, he turned and left.
He didn't see the little flower behind him, quietly lowering its head.
Its color—just a little more vivid than before.
...
"What's going on with you?"
After finishing Millicent's checkup as usual, Lloyd made his way over to Seriel, who was standing not far away. She had been acting strange ever since Millicent joined them, and the more they explored together, the more obvious it became.
"I..."
Seeing Lloyd approach, Seriel paused. Thinking about their time together—and the way he cared for Millicent—she ultimately decided to be honest.
"I've recovered some memories. But... they've brought problems too."
"I don't know if it's because the memories are incomplete, but a lot of what I remember feels... wrong. Some of it even contradicts itself."
Lloyd perked up with interest.
"Go on."
Seriel hesitated for a moment, then slowly spoke.
"In my memories, my brother—Miquella the Empyrean—was incredibly gentle and full of compassion."
"He would personally draw out pus from wounded soldiers, he created the Haligtree to shelter those abandoned by the Golden Order, and he did everything he could to cure the Scarlet Rot in me... even going so far as to sacrifice his own Law."
"But in my most recent memory... he told me something."
"He said, 'If necessary, you can remove the needle.'"
"'Think of it as a necessary sacrifice... to achieve gentleness.'"
Seriel paused, her voice growing heavy.
"That... doesn't sound like the brother I remember."
"He even used charm on me."
As Miquella's Blade, Malenia had always followed his will.
But obedience didn't mean she lacked her own thoughts or pride—especially when it came to Scarlet Rot and her brother.
Had Miquella forced her to release the Rot, she would have obeyed. She didn't deny that.
But even as his Blade, when faced with a decision so unlike the Miquella she knew, she should have questioned it. At least hesitated.
After all, he was the one who crafted the Unalloyed Gold Needle to suppress her Scarlet Rot. No one understood better than Miquella what would happen if it bloomed unchecked.
Caelid would become a living hell. If not for the Redmane Knights holding the line, half the Lands Between might already be consumed.
And she—his sister—would suffer all over again. At best, falling back into agony from the Rot's return. At worst... she'd die on the spot.
Was that really Miquella's order?
Why hadn't she sensed anything wrong at the time?
Why hadn't she even asked?
Seriel couldn't make sense of it.
Lloyd couldn't either.
Because based on everything he'd heard, aside from old Marika's side of the story, almost everyone who spoke of Miquella had nothing but praise.
The Golden lineage called him the blessed twin.
The Misbegotten said the Haligtree welcomed all.
Rogier had told him even Those Who Live in Death once hoped to take refuge there. The Albinaurics gave their lives guarding the Haligtree's medallion half, saying he was their last hope.
Gentle. Accepting. Empathetic. And a cute blond boy...
You know the type—a Soulsborne pretty boy. Miyazaki's golden child.
By that kind of character setup, yeah, he really shouldn't be saying things like that.
But now... hmm?
Lloyd glanced toward Melina, standing nearby like a motionless doll, and raised a brow.
"Hey, Seriel. Let me ask you something."
"...What is it?"
Lloyd paused, then looked her straight in the eyes.
"Your brother—Miquella. Can he resist his own charm?"
What kind of question was that?
"Of course he can... re...sist...?"
Her voice trailed off.
She stared at the faint purplish glow circling Lloyd's neck—like a scarf—and went rigid.
"I mean, look. If even his other half couldn't resist her sleep magic, it's not out of the question that your brother might fall victim to his own charm."
Lloyd blinked at her.
"And that power you carry now—Abundance—everyone says it's your brother's Law, right?"
"You said he gave it to you to heal you. But what about himself?"
"I mean, let's face it—your whole family's got issues. Serpent essence, Destined Death, your own Scarlet Rot, Trina's sleep…"
"So what if your brother also had something? Maybe that Abundance was a seal. Or a safeguard. And he didn't even know it."
"And then, one day, to help you... he broke it."
"And lost himself."
Just a theory, of course.
Lloyd had no proof. He hadn't even met Miquella. He was just speculating based on what Seriel said.
But for some reason, whenever Lloyd shared a theory like this, the people around him would always fall into a deep, lingering silence.
Seriel was no exception.
She didn't say a word after he finished.
She didn't seem eager to continue the conversation, and Lloyd had gotten used to that kind of response. He didn't think much of it.
He stood, left her there, exchanged a few words with Melina and Alice, then resumed exploring the map.
...
And during his exploration, he once again ran into that skin-swapping Onion Knight—the "Jar Warrior," Alexander.
It was in a tunnel. After clearing out all the enemies inside, Lloyd pushed open a door—and there stood Alexander, waiting behind it.
"Oh? How did you get here?"
When Alexander spotted Lloyd, he looked both surprised and puzzled.
"I remember that path was a dead end…"
"What? A door appeared out of nowhere!"
"Well, that's incredible. But thanks to the door, we might finally have a way to reach the Caelid Wilds."
"I've been banging my head against that wall because of the dead end—wahahaha!"
Lloyd glanced at the Jar Warrior and the doorway beside him. For a moment, his thoughts drifted, and the Great Rune in his hand gave a faint flicker.
Felt like opening the gate for Onion Knight all over again. Some things never change.
He shook himself out of it with a muttered comment, then parted ways with Alexander once more.
He wasn't too concerned about the warrior's safety. Sure, traditional Souls tropes meant Onion Knights always met tragic ends, but unlike most characters, triggering his death usually required a whole series of steps—and often near endgame.
And besides, Alexander seemed focused on joining that "Battle Festival," so until that actually started, it was unlikely anything serious would happen to him.
...
Shortly after their separation and more exploration, Lloyd managed to put together a prototype right hand for Millicent.
As he'd warned, it wasn't exactly top-tier. It worked well enough for daily use and movement, but in combat, it was far from ideal.
Still, Millicent was pleased. It might not have been excellent, but it was hers.
And with it, she could perform the Waterfowl Dance Sword Style—and assist Lloyd in battle.
But...
As the technique unfurled and a faint wave of Abundance rippled forward, Lloyd frowned in thought.
The Waterfowl... felt weak. Barely enough to nudge the corruption.
Millicent noticed too. Her cheeks flushed red.
"I can try harder. And the hand is, well... still new..."
"It's not your fault," Seriel suddenly said.
"This land has been steeped in rot for far too long. It's not easily shaken."
"And between Abundance and corruption lies a barrier of golden immutability."
"If we can't break that barrier, then even a deluge couldn't bridge corruption and Abundance."
Lloyd turned to her.
"You've got an idea, don't you?"
"I do." Seriel nodded.
"The flowers of rot bloomed here once and have taken root deep into the soil. Along with the Golden influence, conventional methods won't work."
"But if the flower of Abundance can bloom on this land—and release enough force as it does—it might be able to break through that golden barrier, suppressing the corruption beneath."
Lloyd considered this, then nodded.
"So how do we do that?"
"A battle. A grand one."
Seriel looked him in the eye.
"My strength is still far too weak to challenge the corruption here. But the Law of Abundance can be strengthened through combat."
"I know I have no right to demand anything—not of you, not of anyone."
"But the truth is, I'm too weak right now. And the Law of Abundance isn't meant for direct battle. So I need your help."
"I'd like you to take me with you to the battle festival. Just for a short while, I want you to serve as my lord—to help me gather strength."
"Before the fighting begins, I'll embed the golden needle you carry into myself. After the battle, I want you to take me to the place where you met that old warrior. And there... help me remove the needle."
"When that time comes, the bud will bloom once more on Caelid soil."
"But this time, I swear to you—it won't be a flower of Scarlet Rot. It will be a flower of healing. A flower of Abundance."
"Will you help me?"
Lloyd stayed quiet for a while, thinking.
"And you?"
Seriel didn't answer. She simply extended her right hand.
There, the Abundance her brother had left her pulsed gently—the same power that had reminded her of why she was here in the first place.
Lloyd looked at her—steady, unwavering.
Then he nodded.
"Alright."
"If that's what you want."
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
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