The Town of Sorcery was exactly as the Nox had described: devoid of living souls. Those figures clad in noble attire were no different from the Those Who Live in Death, their minds long since eroded by the Scarlet Rot.
While the Tarnished had intended to simply cut through the town, the areas sealed by magic caught his eye. It was a familiar pattern—the items within seemed inaccessible without breaking the seals.
"...Hah, a joke." He struck the wall with a single fist. The ancient stone shattered like dry mud.
"I've never been much for following rules, let alone in a town with no one left to complain." He opened the chest inside to find a sorcery book containing the fundamental concepts of Sellia's basic assassination magic: the Night Comet.
Using the same brute-force method to break the sealed barriers, the Tarnished plundered several more treasures. Having thoroughly stripped the place of its valuables, he immediately mounted Torrent and fled the scene of the crime.
Spirit mages pursued him relentlessly, but once he crossed the boundary of Sellia, these earthbound spirits were unable to follow.
Continuing his ride, the Tarnished arrived before the great iron gates of Sellia. This appeared to be the Sellia Gateway. Beyond it lay a much wider road. Looking down from the edge of the cliff, he saw a gargantuan basin—a landscape that resembled a mire, flooded with thick, viscous Scarlet Rot. A singular, alien tree of mottled red and white stood tall in the center of the swamp.
"Another tree. You people really have a thing for big trees, don't you...?" Several whistling sounds erupted behind him. He looked back to see a dense swarm of silk-like threads shooting toward him. The attackers were distorted, elongated white insects with countless pairs of legs lining their abdomens.
"You seek death?" The Tarnished grabbed a large stone and crushed the nearest insect into a pulp. But as soon as one died, more swarmed out, wielding weapons and scurrying forward like centipedes.
"Caelid is truly fascinating; no shortage of bizarre species here." He hurled stones one after another, clearing a path toward a nearby structure.
"What's that sound?" After dealing with the annoying pests, the Tarnished heard the voice of a young woman. Unlike Roderika's soft sobbing, this voice was a ragged gasp laden with agony. He could even hear the whistling of air escaping from a damaged windpipe. It sounded wretched.
"This is..." He stepped over the insect carcasses and entered the ruined chapel before him. A young girl was clutching her right shoulder in agony, blood continuously seeping from the stump where her arm should have been. The pain seemed to be more than just the loss of a limb; something else was gnawing at her from within.
Her shoulder-length, vivid red hair was disheveled, spread around her like the petals of a brilliant, dying flower.
"Ugh... you... who are you?" The girl raised her head, her face slick with the sweat of intense pain. Though her skin was caked in grime and one side of her face bore white, mottled patches, it could not hide her perfect features. Most striking were her eyes—a pair of brilliant golden pupils that shone with an unyielding fortitude against her suffering.
(She bears a resemblance to Trina?) The girl wasn't a perfect double, but there were undeniable similarities in her facial structure.
"Ugh... cough... regardless of who you are... do not come near me... stay away... the Scarlet Rot within me is squirming... it is a curse... ugh, not something a normal person can touch." Pain made her words blurry, but her will to protect a stranger from her fate remained unshakable.
"..." The Tarnished pulled out a Flask of Crimson Tears, wiped the rim, and handed it to her.
"It's no use... this... cannot suppress the Scarlet Rot... I appreciate your kindness... but please, leave me be." The girl forced a small smile. Though she didn't know why this man would offer her something so precious, she didn't want to spurn a good heart.
"The Scarlet Rot is indeed troublesome," the Tarnished observed. A faint warmth began to radiate from his palm.
"What are you doing... don't come closer!" Seeing the man approach, the girl struggled to crawl away. The Tarnished stopped his advance and increased the temperature in his hand, the warm air condensing into a tiny, flickering spark.
"I'll leave this with you. I hope you can endure it." The Tarnished placed the Giants' Flame spark beside her and gave her a long look before turning to leave.
"Why... are you helping me...?" Feeling the warmth, the girl asked in confusion.
"Power is cheap. Character is the true treasure."
The girl's body was too fragile, like a candle in the wind. The Crimson Flask wouldn't solve the root problem, and while the Giants' Flame could burn away the rot, the cost would be cremating the girl along with it. Weighing his options, he could only leave the spark and douse it with a bit of the Crimson Tears, hoping the combination would buy her some time.
In this chaotic world, such strength of character—thinking of others while fighting a curse—was rare. The pure, untainted light in her eyes had moved him. That alone was reason enough to help.
"Scarlet Rot... so this is what it looks like when it hosts in a human body." He hadn't felt it clearly on the Putrid Tree Spirits, but in this red-haired girl, he could feel it. The rot destroyed the flesh from the inside out. When a living thing was touched by it, both the mind and the body were eroded simultaneously.
"What in the world is that? A dog?" On the main road past the gateway, the Tarnished spotted a giant-headed dog chained up. The creature's proportions were bizarre—its head was massive, but its body was unnaturally thin.
"Look at this scrawny mutt." He mocked the beast as it snarled at him.
"Who owns this dog? If no one claims it, I'm putting it down!" the Tarnished called out toward a dilapidated shack ahead, wondering if anyone lived there.
"Please, wait!" An aged voice drifted from the shack. "Could I trouble you to come over? My legs are not what they used to be."
"Do not mind the T-Rex dog; it will not harm you." As the old man spoke, the giant-headed dog indeed calmed down. The Tarnished walked toward the shack, finding a withered, pale old man dressed in a red cloak.
"Greetings, Tarnished. I am Gowry... people once called me a Sage." The old man spread his hands, palms up, in a gesture of introduction.
"Oh... a Sage." The Tarnished's sharp gaze swept over the man. Gowry gave off an unsettling aura—he remained perfectly still, like a corpse. The Tarnished caught a whiff of something non-human about him, but he didn't call him out, choosing instead to let him speak.
"I assume you have something for me," the Tarnished said, getting straight to the point.
"I am grateful for your directness... yes, indeed. I can sense your immense power, and so I have a request." Gowry nodded.
"You just came from the direction of Sellia... no doubt you know its secrets by now. It is not my place to say... but perhaps my request will align with your own interests?" A benevolent smile appeared on Gowry's face.
"How so?" The Tarnished wanted to see what game he was playing.
"You've seen her, haven't you? The girl in the ruined chapel on the hill... her name is Millicent. She is afflicted by the rot and is bedridden. I wish to heal her." Gowry's eyes were full of pity.
"You have a way?" The Tarnished's interest was piqued.
"The rot is an incurable malady. Even at the height of the Erdtree's power, the demigods who were closest to divinity could not root it out."
"Then how do you plan to treat her?"
"It is like this... while it cannot be cured, it can be suppressed. Within the Aeonia Swamp, there should be a needle—a Unalloyed Gold Needle. This item is extraordinary; it has the power to ward off the influence of the rot. I ask you to find it. With it, we can suppress the Scarlet Rot within Millicent." The old man spoke with such sincerity, he seemed like a father worried for his daughter.
"Unalloyed... Gold... Needle... hmm..."
(Unalloyed gold... and the 'younger sister' Trina mentioned... could it be?)
"Is something wrong?" Gowry asked, confused by his reaction.
"It's nothing. I'll take the job. The swamp is on my way anyway. Wait for my word." Without another word, the Tarnished mounted Torrent and galloped down the slope. Looking right through the gates, the Swamp of Aeonia came into view.
"The rot is thick here... but it won't stop me. Get ready, Torrent." He patted the steed's head. Torrent whinnied excitedly; he knew what was coming. The Tarnished gathered fire in both hands, releasing two bursts of intense flame.
One burst was channeled into himself, the other into Torrent. The brilliant, searing flames wreathed Torrent's coat, making him look like a creature of myth. Given the horse's robust constitution, the fire didn't harm him; instead, it pushed him into a state of hyper-arousal.
The flaming Torrent charged into the swamp. The rotting liquid kicked up by his hooves was instantly turned to ash by the heat. Wherever they passed, the rot was replaced by a trail of roaring fire. Man and horse moved through the forbidden zone like gods of fire.
"Hm?" An attack from an unknown source struck at him—a ring of golden light, swift and possessing a strong homing capability.
"A knight...?" The Tarnished looked toward the source. He saw a tall, thin knight in polished gold armor, a red cape fluttering behind him, wielding a massive scythe and a longsword. His posture was grotesque—he leaned heavily to one side and walked with a pronounced limp. He had clearly been in the rot far too long.
"For... the Lord... I fight!" the knight muttered incoherently, dragging his broken body toward the Tarnished. But the Tarnished had no time to waste. He signaled Torrent to speed up, slamming into the knight. The golden warrior was sent flying like a broken kite. By the time he scrambled back to his feet, the Tarnished was long gone.
There were many such knights in the swamp. Bypassing them, the Tarnished headed straight for the massive tree in the center. It was too prominent to ignore, and since Gowry hadn't given an exact location, he would start his search at the most obvious landmark.
His first stop: the base of the great tree.
"Oh? Hahaha, this is interesting... I didn't expect to run into an old acquaintance here." Beneath the tree at the heart of the swamp stood a burly figure holding a blood-red war banner. Despite his aged face, he remained stoic and resolute, showing no signs of distress from the surrounding rot.
This man was a grand commander under the former Storm Lord and one of the leaders of the Banished Knights—Commander O'Neil.