The trio took the long way out of the Deeproot Depths.

Gundrik did not even suggest traveling towards Leyndell directly above them, and neither did Marika or Radagon - perhaps all of them knew what awaited them if they attempted that. Not only did they know nothing about the state of the city, but while Gundrik was a demigod and Marika and Radagon were a full-fledged god, even they could succumb to raw numbers, and the Frenzied Flame would likely infect them like it had so many others. Gundrik had seen the effects of it firsthand, with Hyetta in Liurnia, with Yura in the Mountaintops of the Giants, and lastly with Vyke, still trapped inside his evergaol.

Besides, Gundrik did not want to fight the Flame alone. He needed a rallying symbol, something to solidify his and his god's reign over the coming Age. What better way to do that than to lead the charge against a common enemy?

The journey back to the surface was almost as quiet as the journey before it. In the end, the only sound that echoed in Gundrik's ears was the sound of his ramshackle plate mail and the footsteps of Marika and Radagon. Radagon, for his part, simply stared at Gundrik for most of the journey, his golden eyes burning holes into the back of Gundrik's head. He had known something was on Radagon's mind ever since Godwyn had been laid to rest, and since he had been absent since the night at Redmane Castle, Gundrik was beginning to put the pieces together in his head. It painted an ugly, though understandable, picture.

Before too long, thankfully, Gundrik felt the sun upon him again, and the Erdtree's glow, ever present in the background. Though, said glow had taken on a faintly sinister air since he knew what waited for them around its base.

They took the elevator from the Siofra River, after scaling down the crumbling architecture of Nokron. From there, they made their way to Stormveil Castle, where a majority of the army would be gathering before they set out on their march to Leyndell. As instructed, Malenia had departed to the Haligtree, to muster whatever support she could from its army as well. Gundrik had half a mind to give her hell for not using them for the assault on Caelid when he thought of it, but decided against it; the logistics were a nightmare, and with the Frenzied Flame occupying Leyndell, it was likely a blessing in disguise.

The trio hadn't even made it to the front gates of Stormveil Castle before the portcullis lifted, and a familiar gatekeeper peeked out from the adjacent building.

"Don't need to say anything when I see you coming," Gostoc hissed, "just lift the gates and get going. They're waiting for you in the throne room."

"Why, Gostoc, I'd almost suspect you did not miss me," Gundrik said.

"F-friend, you have a large, new sword on your back that's making the hairs on my neck stand on end," Gostoc stammered out, and Gundrik could see the lanky gatekeeper visibly shiver. "And what's more, I can recognize the other Elden Lord and the Queen from anywhere - I'm not even going to ask. Asking'll get me killed."

"Perhaps I hadst misjudged you, gatekeeper," Marika stated, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "Thou art of keener mind than most."

Radagon merely grunted.

"See what I'm talking about-? Eep!" Gostoc placed his only hand against his mouth as he backed into his gatehouse. "Just get going!"

Gundrik turned to Marika and Radagon. "I cannot go anywhere with you. You always scare all of my friends."

"Perhaps the company you keep should learn to bask in the presence of a god," Radagon grumbled.

Marika looked at Radagon as if he had grown a second head. "Something truly is wrong with thee, leal hound."

Radagon was silent.

Gundrik waved a hand as he turned back around. "Nevermind. Let us meet with Nepheli and Kenneth. The sooner we get the armies moving, the better."


Compared to the last time Gundrik had walked through Stormveil, the changes were far less stark. More repairs had been carried out, but as the garrison while he, Marika, and Radagon were away was a skeleton crew of former exiles, it was any wonder Kenneth had kept enough control over them that they followed his orders to continue repairing the castle.

Banished Knights and exiles were bolstered by Redmane Knights and their soldiers, bowing out of the way when they saw Gundrik, Marika, and Radagon walk past them. It was an even warmer welcome than the last time, compared to the last time where Kaiden Sellswords stared them down from the walls.

Before long, the trio went through Godrick's old graveyard, although just as last time, the dragon carcass and the tombstones had long been removed. One day, perhaps, the chasms on either side would be filled with something, whether it was water, or lava, was up to Nepheli. It was her castle, after all. When they stepped into the throne room, Gundrik was immediately accosted by a familiar face.

"Ah there you are, my friend!" Kenneth said, bowing before Gundrik. "And not a moment too soon! We have been waiting for weeks!"

"Well, even when traveling on Torrent, the Lands Between is a big place," Gundrik grunted, turning his head to look at the twin halves of god behind him. "Thankfully, it was not a lonely trip."

"Indeed, indeed, and might I add," Kenneth continued, "that, er, your armor- well, you will be no doubt happy to know that I commissioned something for you once I heard of your growth in stature. I may no longer be able to knight you, but I can grant you a gift. I'm afraid it may not be up to your old standards, but I hope you will accept it either way."

"Kenneth, if it fits me, I will wear it," Gundrik said, placing a hand on the noble's shoulder before walking past him. "Are they here?"

Kenneth shook his head. "Ah, no. Give me a moment and I shall retrieve Lady Nepheli and Sir Jerren from their duties. In spite of all this time, we have not been idle! In fact, a full retinue of my castle staff have come-!"

"I recall you. You are the one who employs demihumans," Radagon suddenly said, standing in front of Kenneth, whose mouth closed so suddenly it sounded almost like a lid clamping shut.

"T-that is true, Lord Radagon! A pleasure to see you again." Kenneth bowed. "I had intended to bring them here, but perhaps it was good to keep them out of your-!"

"Are they capable?" Radagon asked.

Kenneth looked up, confusion marring his face. "Er, my lord?"

"I asked if they were capable," Radagon repeated, exasperation entering his tone as his brow furrowed.

"Er, yes, quite. They have maintained my fort well enough, though they have decided to use the remains of their previous queen as some sort of altar to what I assume to be me," Kenneth said awkwardly, standing up straight and folding his hands together. "And while their attempts to retake my fort in days past were unsuccessful, they never stopped trying."

"Perhaps even demihumans have a place in this Order," Radagon concluded.

An awkward silence followed for a few moments before Gundrik patted Kenneth's shoulder. "Perhaps the great Kenneth Haight ought to retrieve the two generals of this army?"

"A-ah, aha, yes!" Kenneth chuckled, speed-walking past Marika and Radagon. "I shall return shortly. Please, make yourselves comfortable!"

When he left the throne room, Gundrik let out a sigh. "You have the social graces of a dying tortoise, you know that, Radagon?"

"I have always been more comfortable in the presence of trained soldiers and warriors than with nobles," Radagon grumbled.

"Truly, thou art akin to a storm hawk in the wind, leal hound," Marika commented.

"I have half a mind to cut your tongue from your mouth, snake," Radagon growled.

Marika laughed. "And thus, half a mind you would retain!"

"Do you two wish to stand there bickering or would you like to attend this meeting?" Gundrik asked, "You have left that to me up until now, but with Leyndell in danger, I wonder if that will continue to be the case."

"I have seen thine abilities, Lord Gundrik, and believe thou art capable of leading an army well. However, fear not; I shall attend this meeting. I want a part in this." Marika said.

Gundrik nodded before turning to Radagon. "And you?"

"I wish to talk with you in private," Radagon began, crossing his arms, "But it appears that will need to wait until this is over. I shall attend as well, but do not expect me to say much at all. The path ahead is clear."

Pursing his lips, Gundrik nodded. "So it is."


"This 'Frenzied Flame'," Jerren said, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. "What is it?"

It had taken less than an hour for all to arrive. Jerren sat on one side, and Nepheli and Kenneth sat on the other. Gundrik, Radagon, and Marika took their place at the head of the long table, with Radagon pacing around behind Gundrik as he heard what was being said.

"The manifestation of another Outer God's power," Gundrik stated, placing his hands on the table and tenting them. It had taken some time to find a chair that fit him, and he could feel it creak beneath him as he shifted his weight. "It is connected to Shabriri the slanderer in some way, and perhaps even going so far as to be a manifestation of the Great Caravan and its massacre. I have not read much about it, and there is not much to read in the first place."

"The vengeance of a people wrongly destroyed," Nepheli breathed out. "And who was behind the genocide, I wonder?"

Gundrik turned to his right, where Marika sat. Though she hid it well, she shifted uncomfortably as all eyes laid upon her.

"It was an order," Marika spoke, her voice quiet. "I had not a direct hand in its perpetration, but I made no motion to stop it, and thus I am responsible as well."

"They were suspected to be having relations with a deity outside the Golden Order. I remember it well," Radagon said, pausing his pacing for a moment. "I had offered my assistance in rounding them up, but the Two Fingers took it upon themselves to do it, using their own resources as envoys of the Greater Will. By the time no such connection had been made, they were already trapped beneath Leyndell, and the rest is old history."

"The past continues to haunt this Order, even now," Kenneth mumbled. "It is any wonder we are able to sit here now and discuss battle strategies, with half of the land dead, and the other half succumbing to madness."

"The Scarlet Rot was expelled from Caelid, chum, do not forget," Jerren pointed out. "We have accomplished much in a short amount of time. If the impossible has been done before, then it can be done again."

Nepheli stood up. "The suffering of so many people cannot, and will not, be repeated. I know you, Lord Gundrik, and know that you are a man of integrity. What will you do, when Leyndell is secured, the Frenzied Flame destroyed or sealed away, and your new Order with Marika and Radagon has been made?"

Gundrik was silent for a few moments, his expression hidden behind the helmet he insisted on wearing, before finally speaking. "All are accepted under this Order, so long as they are willing to serve it. The Elden Ring and the Erdtree will not spurn anyone based on the Greater Will, or the whims of the god that houses it."

Marika leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and nodded. "As it shouldst have always been."

"I am surprised you would give up such power, Queen Marika, if you do not mind my intrusion," Kenneth said, "the Golden Order prospered underneath you and your demigod kin, and no doubt it shall again under this new Order, but I am curious all the same."

Marika's expression settled on a grimace as she let out a breath. "Power? Is that what thou perceived it as? Yes, perhaps I had power. Perhaps the Lands Between wouldst bow before me were I to command it. But look to me, Kenneth Haight, and see what ultimate power availeth."

Marika extended her arm, showing off the cracked scars that covered it. She flexed her hand once before placing it on the table.

"One day, we wouldst run out of enemies to fight. No wars to be won. What doth thou think wouldst happen then? What is the mind of men compared to that of an Outer God?" Marika continued. "The Omen. The Misbegotten. The Albinaurics. The Fire Giants. The Great Caravan. The Trolls - all outside of what it considered 'Order', and thus they were spurn'd. Who wouldst be next? I became disillusioned when I realized, there was no plan. The Greater Will - the damnable Will - it cared not for what camst. What was next. Time was a malleable construct, and it existed outside of such nonsense."

"We were puppets," Radagon whispered. "At times, literally. I see that now. My loyalty… perhaps it was misplaced."

"And thus, the leal hound becometh a simple dog," Marika commented.

"...A-ah," Kenneth stammered out, coughing into his fist. "I see. My apologies for speaking out of turn."

Gundrik raised a hand. "No matter. We need to formulate a strategy either way. Now, let us begin…"


It would be a pincer move. Malenia's forces would attack from the east, traveling from the Grand Lift of Rold in the Mountaintops, while the remainder of the army would attack from the west, moving from the Grand Lift of Dectus. There had been no word of any forces mobilizing from within Leyndell or Altus itself - not that they had any scouts that could see as such, one would need to fly high above the clouds to see what was really going on behind Leyndell's walls.

Within the week, Gundrik and his generals would march from Stormveil Castle, through Liurnia, and up the Grand Lift of Dectus. And from there, a swift end would be found, for either them, or the Frenzied Flame.

When the meeting was adjourned, only Gundrik and Radagon remained within the meeting room. Marika was the last to leave, trailing her hand on Gundrik's soldiers before leaving as well.

"Well," Gundrik said, "it feels like just yesterday we were in a position similar to this, huh?"

Radagon looked down. "It feels a lifetime ago to one such as I, Gundrik."

Gundrik removed his helmet and placed it on the table. He wouldn't be needing it for long, anyway.

"Alright, then. Tell me what is on your mind," Gundrik began, "You have been giving me strange looks since you and Marika separated again. And I think I am starting to understand why."

A half-smile formed on Radagon's face as he sat up in his seat. "Marika was right about you, then. You are smarter than you look."

"I am surprised it took you so long to notice!" Gundrik said, placing a hand against his breastplate in mock offense. "Not just anyone can command an army this large in the wake of the most terrible catastrophe in human history."

"You jest, but that is true," Radagon replied, "Only Godfrey was able to do what you have done here. Granted, it was at the height of our power, and even then, not all of the Lands Between bowed to him, in the end."

"Well, yes, that is true," Gundrik conceded, "and it is not as if there is much organized resistance this time around. Mt. Gelmir only needs to be cleared of the dead and it could sustain a population, and perhaps it is time that the Mountaintops of the Giants are, hmm, 'restored', so to speak."

Radagon waved a hand. "All topics for a different time. For now, I would speak with you."

"Is that not what we are doing, right now?" Gundrik asked, tapping his knee.

"You are lucky I find you charming, else I would end a discus through your neck," Radagon said, "Marika does indeed care about you, you know. I can feel it, just as much as she does. We are the same. And therein lies my worry."

Gundrik's lips pressed into a thin line. "It is good to have confirmation, at least."

"I apologize for my venomous words before," Radagon said, pressing a hand against his toned and muscular chest. "Here I am, calling her the serpent, when I have acted the part as well. Even then, her fondness of you was there, perhaps a consequence of that… construct's memories. I just simply refused to see it. As I did a great many things."

"I would have you speak plainly, Radagon," Gundrik finally said, his voice grim. "It is just you and I here. No one else. Not Marika. Not Nepheli, Not Jerren. Just us. Something has been troubling you for a long while, and I will hear it."

Radagon snorted. "Not a fan of idle conversation? Neither am I. Let us discuss it, then. What we have shared."

Gundrik nodded. "I had a feeling it was about that night in Redmane Castle. Was it… it was not forced upon you by Marika, was it? Because if so-"

Radagon held up a hand. "No. It was by my own choice that I participated as well. A snap decision that even now, I do not regret. Not with all of my being. But that is the crux of my conflict, Gundrik: I do not know how much of it was my fondness for you, or if it is simply Marika's fondness bleeding into my mind."

Gundrik nodded slowly, turning his head away. "You are worried that you are being made to feel this way, huh? I did think it was strange that you joined in when just days prior I heard- I should not say that."

Radagon shrugged. "There is no shame in saying it. I divorced Rennala of my own volition, even if it was ordered of me. That bond has been severed for many, many years. I had wanted time to fully let her go, and perhaps that is what led to my part in that night. I wanted to forget, if only for a moment."

Gundrik turned his right hand over, and let it sit on his knee. A moment later, Radagon laid his own hand in Gundrik's palm.

"It does not have to be this way," Gundrik murmured. "I do not want to have you question your own feelings this way. You do not have to do that. I am sorry that we continued that night despite your misgivings."

"Did you not hear me?" Radagon whispered. "I told you I had done it of my own volition. And I do not regret it. Maybe it was not Marika's feelings bleeding into my own. Perhaps I have moved on far faster than I had anticipated. Or, maybe, you hit me too many times across the head during our battle, and being turned into a sword by our superior merely compounded the problem."

"Was that a joke? It sounded like a joke," Gundrik wiped his forehead. "Sometimes I forget that you are incapable of jokes."

"There has not been much reason to jest," Radagon said, "and to be perfectly clear, now is not the time either, but I could not resist. I could not admit it at the time, but that battle was extraordinary. I could not have asked for a better opponent."

Gundrik snorted. "And I could not have asked for a better man to give me a concussion with a broken stone hammer. I wonder what happened to it."

Radagon shrugged. "I do not know. Lying within the dust of Leyndell, or within the Erdtree, perhaps. Nonetheless, Gundrik, I want- no, I need to ask you something."

"Anything."

Radagon took a deep breath, and squeezed Gundrik's hand. Gundrik could feel the power swell from the red-headed former Elden Lord, not too dissimilar from when Marika had done the same that night in Redmane Castle. It wasn't quite as radiant, or as ecstasy-inducing, but it was there, and Gundrik felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was only there for a moment, and then it was gone, but Gundrik could feel its ghost even several seconds after it had dissipated.

"We have faced many opponents, even before the Shattering ruined this land," Radagon began. "And yet, this Frenzied Flame frightens me. I fear, in another time, it could have reduced us to ash. And so, I want you to know this: I care for you, well and truly, and though I cannot grant you all that Marika can, even if my thoughts are not wholly my own, I thank you for allowing me this."

Gundrik sniffled. "Do not make me too emotional, now. I am not sure I can take it."

"Am I not the one who should be saying as such?" Radagon replied, eyebrow raised. "I will not lie to you, Gundrik - I had intended to cut this off. To not show my hand, and yet, perhaps these thoughts are my own after all. A part of me will always belong to Rennala, just as a part of Marika shall always lie with Godfrey, but just as her, I shall embrace this with all that I am."

"I have always seen you as your own person, Radagon, for what it is worth. You were Radagon the Champion before you were Marika, to me." Gundrik said.

Radagon leaned forward and briefly, chastity pressed his lips against Gundrik's. The contact lasted for mere moments, but it sent electric shocks up Gundrik's spine, and he did not want it to end. All things must, however, and when it was over, Radagon stood up.

"I shall see to it that this army is in shape for the coming battle," Radagon said softly. "And you - I believe there is something waiting for you, yes? It is time for you to dress the part for your new title."

Gundrik let out a laugh. "I can hardly remember what it was like before, you know. My body has changed so much- I have changed so much, that it all seemingly blends together. And you know what? If this is to be my final battle, then I am glad I am charging forward with two people I love at my side."

In the end, that would have to be enough.


"Oh, I am sure you will be pleased, my lord!" Kenneth said, rubbing his palms together as if he was planning something nefarious, though with the smile on his face, the image that Gundrik called to mind was of a child showing their parents something they had crafted. "I will have you know, this was a labor that has been going for some time; ever since you and your golden host departed from this castle, the servants and soldiers have slaved over this."

Kenneth was leading Gundrik to a part of the courtyard that he had once been intimately familiar with; it was there that he had been set on fire by exiled soldiers and their dragon-headed flamethrowers. Though it was in Gundrik's lordly opinion that it had become far better since that disastrous time. The room Kenneth had led him to was where he had once found a Site of Grace, though it had long disappeared along with others of its ilk, when Destined Death had been released.

"Would it not be more difficult to create something if everyone is working on it?" Gundrik asked. "And how did you and yours create it when, if I remember correctly, I was still normal-sized?"

"Well, as you know, I told you that I had this suit of armor made for you when I heard of your growing prowess, shall we say," Kenneth said, pacing in front of the door. "That is, indeed, true, but the plans for it have been in the works since you and Lord Radagon left. It simply needed to be made anew once we received word of your changes."

"So it will fit me, then?" Gundrik asked, gesturing to his body. He was almost twice as tall as Kenneth. "All of me?"

"I should think so!" Kenneth chuckled. "A few changes and additions could be made before you depart again, I suppose, if it turns out to be unable to fit you."

"Well, then," Gundrik said, gesturing to the door. "Do not leave me in suspense. As accustomed to surprises as I am, I still do not enjoy them."

Kenneth bowed. "Very well, my lord. I present to you…"

Moving forward and gently opening the door, Kenneth led Gundrik into the room. It had been renovated into an armory, seemingly, with dozens of racks holding swords and spears of all sorts of make. The crowning jewel of it, however, was most certainly the armor that stood directly in the middle, held in place by a custom-made stand.

The armor itself was indeed about as large as Gundrik was. The Lands Between had played host to many suits of armor, designed to be as ornate as possible. Gundrik recalled the armor that Bernahl wore - the old Tarnished with his silver and gold armor, with engravings of beasts upon the polished metal. What stood before him was not much different, although it was distinctly more utilitarian than many of the suits Gundrik has seen before.

Polished grayish-silver steel plates made up a majority of the armor, with a cape billowing out from behind it. The helmet was done in a traditional knightly fashion, with its visor pulled upward, though it had details akin to a crown atop its head. Overall, Gundrik was shocked that such a suit of armor had been the product of exiled soldiers and demihumans.

Quietly, almost reverently, Gundrik walked to the side of the armor to look upon the cape. It was slightly tattered; no doubt a consequence of no one within the castle being a tailor. In fact, Gundrik looked closely at it to see it had likely once been a part of Godrick's standard, although the dyework did a mostly fine job of hiding such a fact. The heraldry upon the cape was what caught Gundrik's attention the most, however.

Gundrik held it in his hands for a moment, studying the symbol before turning to Kenneth. "This appears a symbol of the Dragon Cult, Kenneth, but I can see it clear, the fundamentalist influence."

Kenneth nodded proudly. "I will have you know, my lord, that the symbol is of my own conception. Considering your connection to the Dragon Cult of old, I thought it prudent to show in your own heraldry. Though we have limited materials, with your approval, I would have this symbol placed upon banners and given to standard-bearers within the army."

Gundrik looked at the symbol for a few more moments, his mind coming to terms with what was happening. After a moment, he let out a breath.

"You have my permission, Kenneth," Gundrik said, "but be sure to show it to Marika and Radagon, as well. They are as much a part of this as I am."

Kenneth bowed, his smile practically shining. "It will be done, my lord!"

Placing a hand upon the armor's pauldron, Gundrik let out a deep, resounding chuckle. "Hewg would be proud of this, I am sure."

"Er, Hewg, my lord?" Kenneth asked. "Ah, is that a blacksmith or armorsmith you know of? If I had known of him, I would have invited him to this project as well. Perhaps there may still be time-"

Gundrik waved a hand. "Do not bother, Kenneth. He is long gone now. But I will never forget him, or his daughter."

Kenneth lowered his head. "My condolences, Lord Gundrik. I am glad you think he would approve of this, however."

Gundrik hummed, looking into the visor of the helmet before speaking again. "Well, let us not waste any time."

Kenneth looked back up. "My lord?"

"Help me get this on," Gundrik said, "I will need to remove this patchwork of metal off me first, but once that is done, well, I cannot pull these straps on myself, can I?"

"I-I would ask that you rephrase-"

Gundrik leveled a narrowed gaze at Kenneth.

Kenneth sighed. "Very well. Though I know others would be more suited to this task.


For a second time, the army of the new Order marched through Liurnia. Instead of a bannerless, borderline lawless company of the exiled and the banished, however, there marched a new golden host, complete with its own heraldry, and at the head of the army rode Gundrik atop Torrent, his new arms and armor glistening in the wet sunlight. And by his side at all times were Queen Marika the Eternal, and Lord Radagon.

Gundrik could remember what Marika told him before the march began, when she saw him in his new armor.

"And so, this new, Perfect Order, is finally birthed," she had said, "Thou hast saved us, my lord. Lord Gundrik. Champion this new world thou hast ushered in, put the Frenzied Flame to thine deathly blade."

Radagon's reaction, for the most part, was far more subdued.

"Now, you look the part of the lord. Lead us."

Small gestures all, but welcomed nonetheless. For the first time since he had slain the Elden Beast and burned the Erdtree into a blackened husk, Gundrik felt like the lord his title declared him as. And as his army traveled through Liurnia one final time, he felt contentment with his lot in life.

Before his host made it to Altus, and to Leyndell beyond, however, one more trial remained. And said event came roaring from the sky in a meteor of white gravelstone scales and red lightning. It had not hit the bulk of the army itself, but the water and mud it had kicked up when it landed caused a stir. And when its angular maw and face lifted up from the clouds of steam, letting out a deep, guttural roar that made his bones quake, Gundrik remembered one single name.

Lansseax.


So, uh, in the time I've been away, I kinda finished the rest of the fic. All that remains is to have it beta read and such.

So expect that within the next few weeks, at least. I'm not entirely sure how the ending is, but I thought it was pretty decent as I was writing it. But hey, at least the fic will be complete! Less than some can say, surely.

Also, Gundrik out here not beating optional bosses. Who the fuck does he think he is, someone who plans ahead? Get real.

Anyway, see you guys next time!