Piles of corpses... loathsome scarlet things surging endlessly within the body... everything was so foul, so unclean. Such was the tragedy the young girl witnessed in her dreams.
Do not resist, child... You are a bud... my most cherished bud... You need not fear the rot... The moment for the cycle of all things has arrived...
"No... no!" The girl jerked awake from her nightmare. The moment she opened her eyes, she was met by a warm, flickering light, which instantly soothed the panic in her heart. She cupped the nearly inextinguishable small spark and held it close to her chest.
"So warm... For the sake of this warmth... I cannot let the rot spread! Cough... I will never allow myself to harm others again..." Her gaze remained resolute. Even if the rot was on the verge of destroying her physical form, it could not sully her will. The rot she suffered from was entirely different from that of the old general; hers was more primal, more violent, yet she refused to surrender.
There is still beauty in this world... how could she allow it to be destroyed by her own hand?
Though the flame provided some suppression, the rot within her was not something a mere spark could contain. While it eased her agony to an extent, it would not last long. Under the relentless torment of the rot, the girl, having just escaped a nightmare, found her eyelids growing heavy once more.
Tap... tap... She heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the distance.
"Who... who is it?" The one-armed girl, still shielding the flame, struggled to lift her head. She saw the Tarnished—the man she had met only once, who had freely given her the warmth of that spark.
"Why... have you returned?" Her voice carried a trace of sorrow. "Why come back for me?"
"Eh? This is...?" Facing Millicent's question, the Tarnished remained silent and simply produced the gold needle. Upon seeing the exquisitely crafted object, Millicent felt a strange, inexplicable sense of peace.
"Pierce yourself with this. It will suppress the rot," the Tarnished said softly. One should not speak too loudly around the wounded.
"This needle... can suppress the rot?" Light and shadow flickered in the girl's eyes.
"It's natural to be skeptical. The choice is yours."
"No... I believe you. Your warmth would not lie to me... and besides, it is better than being consumed by the rot. I must try." The girl reached out with a slender, trembling finger toward the Tarnished's palm. She was careful not to touch him. The Tarnished cooperated, holding the needle out toward her.
"Forgive me... could you please close your eyes for a moment?" Millicent asked apologetically. The Tarnished said nothing, simply turning his head away. He heard the sound of a sash being untied, followed by a low groan of pain as a mysterious power, carrying a searing heat, flooded into Millicent's body.
...
"Please, you may turn around now. A body half-eaten by rot is best left unseen, I think... I did not expect it to go in so smoothly."
"But why is it so..." Flame—an eternal flame—ignited within Millicent. Its power was like that of a world-cleansing deity, pinning the rot within her so firmly it could not move. Then, that gentle power from the needle acted as a tether, restraining the wild flames to ensure they did not harm Millicent herself.
"Such... a wonderful feeling..." An unprecedented sense of relief washed over her, releasing the exhaustion she had accumulated over a lifetime. Before she could finish her sentence, her eyes drifted shut, and she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
"I knew it would work." The moment he had received the needle, the Tarnished had thought to combine his Giants' Flame with the gentle power inside the needle to suppress the Scarlet Rot. While it couldn't be eradicated entirely, she would at least no longer suffer from its violent surges.
"Sleep well... we shall meet again if fate allows." The Tarnished knelt beside Millicent, untied his cloak, and draped it over the sleeping girl.
"Did I forget to ask where Redmane Castle is...?" The Tarnished slapped his forehead, realizing he had overlooked a crucial detail. He was currently below the Aeonia Swamp, a fair distance away. Though he didn't know the castle's exact location, there was a Site of Grace nearby; he could ask Melina.
"Redmane Castle? I believe it is in that direction..." Melina pointed southeast after a moment of thought. She had observed at the Sites of Grace that many travelers entering Caelid from Limgrave moved toward the southeast. However, Melina could only gather information based on the graces the Tarnished had activated. Since he had warped directly to the Bestial Sanctum, western Caelid remained a mystery to her.
"Time to use my connections." With a grand gesture, the Tarnished pulled the Omen-carved summoning rite from his waist.
"What is that?" Before Melina could ask, she saw the Tarnished shake the two wooden plates. The clashing sound was crisp. Moments later, a figure mounted on a black warhorse appeared before them.
"Eh?" Melina was clearly surprised; she hadn't expected the Tarnished to be able to "call for backup," and certainly not a non-spirit entity.
"This thing is much more useful than a bell," the Tarnished laughed.
"My Lord, what is your command?" the Night's Cavalry asked.
"I need to know where the map of Caelid is."
"The map? My Lord, you are currently on the Caelid Highway. I recall there is a map stele nearby. As for the map of the Dragonbarrow where you were previously, it is located near a certain ravine."
Having obtained the information, the Tarnished began searching the vicinity. Meanwhile, Melina wore a peculiar expression.
"It seems... I am no longer needed...?" Thinking back on their journey, aside from helping him absorb the power of Runes, she hadn't been much help at all. He was helping her on her journey, and she had called it a trade... yet she felt she had nothing to give in return. Even her one specialty—gathering information through the Grace—was now being usurped by these black-clad knights.
To be honest, Melina felt a bit dejected. Returning to the Grace with the map, the Tarnished saw her expression and understood what the girl was thinking.
"Ahem... Melina." He reached out toward her.
"?" She looked up, puzzled.
"The Runes... I'm counting on you. Only you can help me mend this deficiency. Besides, without you to look after Torrent and chat with me, I'd probably lose my mind out here," he said with a smile.
"But..." She hesitated.
"Don't dawdle." The Tarnished took her hand. "You accompany me, I accompany you—that is the essence of a journey. Everything else is just an extra... non-essential. Melina is Melina; you are unique. There's no need to overthink it."
"Tarnished... Yes, I understand." Melina gripped his hand, a faint smile reappearing on her face.
At the top of a high tower in western Caelid—the Divine Tower—a burly Crucible Knight stood watching a rather lethargic Two Fingers.
"It seems the fate of Radahn's death is imminent," the knight remarked.
(A remnant of the Crucible dares to covet a Great Rune?!) The Fingers twisted their body, transmitting a mental wave into the knight's mind.
"Hah, ridiculous thing... you are nothing more than a rotting finger found anywhere." The Crucible Knight looked down with disdain.
(Insolent! A mere remnant of the Crucible...)
"I won't kill you; you'll die on your own soon enough. And don't think I don't know—your master has long since vanished. Without those cowards hiding in the cosmos to back you up, do you really think you can still toy with the Lands Between as you please?" Every word from the knight was laced with contempt.
(Remnant...!)
"Silence. I am your ancestor." The knight's greatsword spun in his hand like a whirlwind before smashing down onto the Fingers. The Fingers were instantly slammed to the floor, their long limbs twitching.
"The Great Tree originated from the Crucible. Who gave you the courage to challenge the authority of the Crucible? Just because this is 'your era' doesn't mean you can forget your roots." The Crucible Knight planted a foot on the Fingers.
(....) The Fingers fell silent, trembling slightly.
"Hmph. A stray dog."
"Now then... let us see who it is that will bring down the once-mighty General." The Crucible Knight stood atop the northwestern Divine Tower, gazing across the vast, desolate plains of Caelid. There, a mountain-like figure let out a howl of utter desolation...
Back on the highway, the Tarnished saw a different sight. Unlike the desolate north, this area was filled with warriors locked in a life-and-death struggle against monstrous dogs and giant crows. They roared with battle-lust. Some had discarded their shields, holding torches in their left hands and sharp greatswords in their right. The higher-ranking knights had already used special means to coat their blades in fire.
"Filthy beasts... begone!" A knight leapt high, his sword cleaving the earth and splitting a giant beast in two.
"Soldiers, stay sharp!" he barked at the men behind him. The surviving warriors ignored their wounds, continuing to hold the line against the maddened beasts.
"Quite lively," the Tarnished suddenly interjected into the fray.
"Tarnished...? Leave this place at once! This is no place for you! The Scarlet Rot here is not something a normal person can withstand!" the knight warned, forcing a monster back.
"I appreciate the concern, but... I think my flames are better." The Tarnished slammed his left hand into the ground. Pillars of fire as tall as the monsters erupted, incinerating the crows and dogs instantly.
"What fierce fire... who are you?" The soldiers stared in awe at the vicious flames—this was on an entirely different level from their own.
"Giants' Flame... I didn't expect such a formidable figure to come to Caelid." The knight's tone was surprised, but his weapon remained drawn.
"Don't be nervous. I'm here for the Festival." The Tarnished pointed toward the structure behind the soldiers.
"I see... you've heard the rumors from Master Jerren."
"Many warriors have already set out to challenge the General, but it is like ants trying to topple a tree. Think carefully... even if the General is a shadow of his former self, he is not someone mortals can reach... though, saying that to you seems redundant." As a veteran Redmane Knight, he could clearly sense the Tarnished's power.
The Tarnished was strong... the Redmane Knights hadn't left this place in a long time and didn't know if new legends had risen in the Lands Between, but the man before them made even them tremble. If someone like this couldn't defeat the General, then the General's fate was truly tragic.
"Well? Can I pass, or do you want a round as well?" The Tarnished drew his Crescent Blade. A cold glint spread outward, his aura overwhelming.
"No... as you are no enemy of the Redmanes, we will not block your path. We are sworn to hold back the Scarlet Rot; we do not seek senseless conflict. Go... I hope you and those other warriors can give the General an honorable end. We can no longer bear to see him suffer so." Even the brave Redmane Knights felt endless sorrow for Radahn's plight.
"Redmane Castle... I don't know if the Festival has started, but I'll head there now."
•
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