Edit: Extended the fight scene in chapter 2.

Forgive me for ranting and venting out my frustration in this note but needed to drain this bottle a bit lest it would spill. I hate being an adult. I stopped being a kid once I left overseas and stepped foot into this country. Didn't even finish school yet and now have a full-time graveyard shift job which isn't bad now since I'm in my seventh month. I generally don't like showing my emotions and keeping everything true to my chest but my carefully crafted masks have been cracking. I remember only crying once, one quarter life crisis, and multiple thoughts whether it would be less painful for a rope rather than a sharp knife or vice versa. Suppose it could be worse, could be dead-dead. Sorry, shutting up that line of thought now. Alright got some of it out now, the bottle is ready to be filled again.

Writing as a coping mechanism is fun, and I should do it more often. Though, given this intense feeling as an internal fuel partially motivates me to write faster and coherently it negatively influences my story. I am somewhat inclined to self-loathing? My headspace is chaotic. I don't even know what I'm doing. May or may not need mental help?

Edit: Calming down after a few days later and refining this interlude, I suddenly feel stupid for writing something personal in and cringing a lot while looking over it. Don't know if this is useful advice but what I always tell myself to keep in control is that: there is always someone that has it worse than you, so stop complaining and chin up, smile and move forward. Guess I just wasn't as strong and selfless as I thought I would be.

Addendum: This story is also on Spacebattles under a different format, primarily using its tools to separate sections like threadmarks, interludes, omakes into its own category, a very useful system. The notes are hidden too (for example like this one, and that rant above this), which can be revealed with a click. I am also more active to respond there than it is into here as I don't like writing replies at the end of chapter as that would elongate the notes even more. So if you have questions or want to discuss something related to the story then head on over there.

Interlude: The Thorned Dreamer.

A thorned armour, sat motionlessly at the log, it would be normal for an outsider to assume that this rusted suit of armor is without a master. And the outsider would be correct… It was eerily unsettling that he didn't move or budge an inch.

At a first glance, it would appear that Ferri was sleeping in a tranquil like state, peaceful even… words that were foreign to the ever vigilant Tarnished. But no, as still as the armour was, there was the fervent twitching of his fingers.

Ferri was indeed not peaceful in his sleep. It was more akin to assume that he was currently experiencing what one would call a nightmare. Dreaded visions of horror that haunt the dreams of the sleeper, taking on the forms of their darkest fears deeply etched within the mind.

Or… of one's guilt and regret.

Twisting them into abhorrent abominations to further plunge the knife deep into the heart. The more grave the sin, the more unbearable the guilt… will the knife twist — the longer the pain will torment.

One must wonder what horrible abominations plagued his mind.

Soon the twitching grew in strength that even managed to shake his shoulders, enough to wake him from his restless slumber.

The first sensation Ferri felt was cold. The air was rigid, even with his caped armor, the freezing air bit through reaching his skin with icy teeth. His head throbbed as he stood abruptly. Quickly, his eyes snapped open.

Darkness. That is all he saw. A murky abyss surrounded him. Not a single shred of light penetrated the dark. He couldn't see anything, save for the ripples formed underneath in every step he took.

Where…?

With no goal or direction in mind, only left to wander aimlessly in this unending abyss. The pain in the side of his head pulsing with each movement he made. Where could he be? he questioned. A question he didn't expect to be answered but felt the solution to be at the end of this perpetual darkness.

However, in the dark.

He felt a nostalgic feeling of sorts… even as the pain grew in his head, he felt… almost as if… this feeling, he could not recognize it but it is familiar to him… it is as odd as it is vexing.

He shook his head. He should not be distracted nor bothered by the implications of it. He needed to find a way out of this damnable place…

A way out…? An exit? Now why does he need to leave the dark? He is comfor— stop. He needed to find out how he wound up here and get back to the girl… The girl in the red cloak… The little one under his protection?

Who was she again?

No, he knows who the girl is, should know who she is. That silver eyed… blurry face? Who is she?

Does it really matter?

The Tarnished stomped at the ground as a large ripple formed underneath his feet that produced or imitated the sound of water splashing.

No this is all wrong, it is all wrong. Just… What is this…!?

His surroundings changed as the miasma subsided and the abyss receded. He squinted his eyes as he adjusted to the low lighting, revealing… a long old hallway. As vast as the eye can see. grimy expanse of monotonous brick tiles that stretched endlessly. Accompanied by pillars that pierced the dark sky.

He looked behind him. The same endless abyss then to the everlasting hallway seamlessly interconnected with each other by something intangible. Others would be perturbed or perplexed by the sight. But naturally for him, he ignored it and marched on nonetheless.

Uncaring as long as it took him to his goal, just like before.

Goal? What goal? Desire to reach the end? And before?

Hmm? Where are the others? And where is the Knight-Captain? They were supposed to meet back after that contract to exterminate some barbaric heretics. Though he did not want to admit it… did he get lost again?

He was going to get an earful once again wasn't he? Shame came at the forefront of his mind as his comrades would surely get a laugh out of this. He released a sigh, just his rotten luck.

He shook his head again, he should not be bothered with such thoughts. There was only one path that he could see and deemed that was one he should take. Maybe they are waiting for him at the otherside.

And so forth he stepped past the dark rippling lines and into its reality. Unbeknownst to him, his original "thoughts" were left forgotten. So forth he stepped past the dark rippling lines, the briars on his armour were gone, faded away like a dust blown wind. His dirtied red cape, returned to its original navy blue color, his armour restored to its pristine condition. All whilst the changes were left unnoticed by him — whom had adorned this armour longer than he can remember, whom has considered it, as if it were his second skin — and continued to take another step.

Into the hallway as vast as the eye can see.

The longer he trudged on, the more he felt that he had been here before. However, he failed to recollect any memory he has to prove otherwise. But nonetheless, he tried again… only to draw blank once again.

Yet he wasn't discouraged. He kept trying again, until he felt his head throb harder. Ferri gripped his head as his headache got worse. Ferri grunted in pain, he felt every pulse worsen. His body twitched with the throbbing in his head, as if in sync.

However, the throbbing suddenly stopped. And the pain left — gone as if it was never there. Ferri relaxed his body and sighed in relief over his discomfort finally ceasing… But a smaller part of him grew anxious and apprehensive at the sudden dissipation of his mental torment.

And with it came trepidation.

His eyes suddenly widened as if he received an epiphany. In an instant, he drew his sword and held his blade in a guard behind him. Without warning, he caught a glimpse of something golden hitting his blade. And now, he found himself falling and hit the ground with a thumpf.

Whether due to his battle experience and instinct or some unseen aid outside of his force, he was lucky enough by a hair's breadth to just get pushed back instead of being bisected in half right then and there.

But the strength of that swing… It was stronger than the Knight-Captain's.

Ferri planted his blade on the ground — using it as some kind of a crutch — and pushed himself off as he got his bearings together. His arm was still trembling as he still felt the blow. He should've deflected it instead of trying to block it.

It does not matter, he would not make the same mistake twice.

He assumed a defensive guard, close to the head and always ready to thrust, like an ox poised with its horns bared pointed true at their foe's face. not the most stable of guards but it protects well and is good for making your opponent wary of direct threats with a straight thrust along with its versatile follow up attacks. The knights of Eochaid's offensive guard should their greatshield be lost.

Ferri breathed in with his nose and exhaled through his mouth as he brought his right leg forward, the opposite side the blade is in before examining his adversary.

A warrior bathed in gold opposed him with the end of its blade. An opponent far larger than him wielding a sword taller than him and dwarfing his own. And accompanied with that horned greatshield, it exuded an imposing figure. A knight would be more befitting of a title for it rather than a warrior.

As such a battle between two knights from respecting homelands would bring great honor to both parties. Regardless of the preemptive strike it made.

Still…

This should be his first time facing such an opponent but for some unknown reason, or a hidden force at work… The mere sight of it brought him unbridled fury.

The fog in his head cleared, bringing alight new information. It was one of the Crucible Knights, royal guards to the sovereign of this land, the Elden Lord Godfrey and each trained by the warrior-king himself truly.

Numbering only a mere 16 strong. Yet a single one of them matched his superior's skill and strength, then two subdued him, while the others successfully detained the remainder of his comrades after a brutal fight with none of the golden knights killed.

This was supposed to be a simple contract taken from the Golden Order and instead of awarding them with the rewards they were promised, they were ambushed near the end of their task.

Betraying them. A thought came to his mind then… the ones they killed, none of them put up a fight. They weren't heretics were they? And none of the common masses knew little to nothing about their clan and beliefs.

Dread filled his head as he reached his conclusion. No, no, no! They were burying the truth along with them!

A whisper of a voice— no, a command tore through him. Singing louder and louder like a chorus of despair vehemently demanding vengeance.

His logic tried to reason that it would do best to keep a level head and assume a tactical retreat but his eyes seared as if they were burned from the hottest of flames.

His vision turned red. Gripping his sword tightly until his knuckles turned white. His anger caused him to throw off any caution as he dropped his defensive stance, whilst the Crucible knight held his shield up and walked slowly towards him.

There would be no honor or respect in this battle, only bloodshed and desecration.

He let out an animalistic growl as he charged forth. Dodging a straight thrust from its greatsword, landing close beside it. The Eochaid Knight spun on his heel whilst swinging his sword, grazing past The Crucible Knight's second blow and met hard ressistance.

Tch! Tougher than our armor.

He backed away just in time to avoid getting caught being bashed by its horned greatshield.

He cursed, its armor was too hard for his blade to slice through. But was it hard enough to resist this!

His arm glowed red with his blade as it floated above him and began to spiral rapidly. The blade followed his motion as he pulled back his arm, before letting loose with his arm outstretched. Like an arrow it spiraled towards its target.

Fast enough to catch it without its guard up, hitting it dead on its chest. Like a drill, it bit through its armor whilst large amounts of blood continued to gush out of its large body.

He was unaware that the corner of his lips tugged upwards slightly morphing into a cruel viscous smirk as the golden knight emitted a sound not so unlike a grunt of pain.

Before his face contorted into a scowl as the Crucible Knight — in spite of the pain — stomped the ground which splintered it and portuded spikes that hit The Tarnished making him flinch and lose concentration over his sword.

The Crucible Knight wrenched the blade out of its chest before quickly dashing forth with a speed that didn't befit his size. It stopped directly in front of him ready to bisect him with an overhead slice. It seemed all would be lost for him, his sword was far away, there was nothing to defend himself with.

But he didn't panic, his mind kept cool just as it had before. In the many life and death battles he faced under the banner of his admired commander. Every single time he thought this would be the end. This would be the blade to cut him down. To finally rid him of his miserable existance.

Only to narrowly dodge death and cheat the reaper's scythe time and time again. It was as if Time seemed to slow down for him. He would not be entering death's door again today, as his eyes perceived everything in a slow manner whilst thinking of every possible way for a solution.

And in that moment.

The Crucible Knight's greatsword stopped mere inches apart from his hands. Glowing in a dark red hue just as the Tarnished hands were. It took every bit of focus for the Eochaid Knight to push back the immense strength of The Crucible Knight.

Possessing a blade unfamiliar to its user with Eochaid's Dancing Blade would be unimaginable to the average Knights of Eochaid. But for him, he was skilled enough to use it. And was among the few able to utilize it.

His willpower alone was stopping the greatsword from bisecting him… but willpower alone was not enough. The Crucible knight dropped its shield and used his free hand to push the back of his blade. Forcing the Tarnished to kneel and splintering the floor that cracked not unlike that of spiderwebs.

The blade was heavy and the force his enemy used was a testament to the strength of the golden giant above him. If he didn't stop it in time, then there would have cleaved into tw-

The Eochaid Knight grunted in shock and surprise, and almost fell over when he was suddenly bereft of the immense weight he was pushing back. And would have been decapitated had he not hurriedly resumed his faux barrier against The Crucible Knight's golden greatsword.

Ferri glared at his opponent and snarled when he realized what happened. That knave… lifted his blade up for a moment's notice, and with a strong forward step, swung it down again using the entirety of its might.

Among the other things it could have done, it still went for this?!

It didn't seem keen on changing its current tactic nor using any other abilities it kept hidden beneath his sleeve. The Crucible Knight was entirely determined into fulfilling his current action. Was it a test for strength? for now it was a battle of attrition. A battle he would surely lose if this continues.

He can't endure this any longer. He can feel his strength waning.

His eyes scanned around his surroundings,quickly probing for anything that might help him until he saw it.

In the corner of his eyes, he spotted his sword laying on the ground, a few spaces away from his foe.

Ferri reached whatever spare strength he has left and possessed his sword to be flung and aimed at his adversary.

As if sensing his thoughts. The Crucible Knight around and batted his sword away and kicked with enough force to send him flying away into a nearby pillar. And in a blink of an eye, the area around it exploded and the space was consumed with fire and smoke.

The Eochaid Knight dropped a few bombs before he got kicked away. He always did like to have his bombs put more of a kick than the ordinary.

But nevertheless, in spite of his effort into putting more blackpowder in his black bisque urn — Black Firebomb, as the people of his homeland called it — it was all for naught, its firepower wasn't enough.

A loud stomp echoed through the everlasting hallway, releasing a golden shockwave that Ferri could describe as a blast of holy energy blowing away the dust and smoke. Revealing the Crucible knight, growing a pair of golden wings and leaps high into the sky, then dived towards him with its sword outstretched.

He rolled away just in the nick of time, only to get hit by a golden tail just as it turned when it landed. His armor clinked as he tumbled along the stone tiled floor, and only came to a stop when he managed to recover his sword and planted it into the ground.

Ferri squinted his eyes and glared intently at his foe. Bastard didn't even look like it got scratched. He growled and got up immediately despite the excruciating pain his injuries induced.

A rib might be broken or two, but nothing he can't heal with one of his items. Ferri rummaged through his items, searching for a certain flask— flask? What flask? He didn't have anything of that sort.

However At this rate, he will be bested and finished off.

An idea came to his mind, and the factor that determined the success of this plan was… Pure luck. How he loathed that word, and then here he was relying on said 'pure luck'. Normally, he would be averse to it. But he was out of options and in this situation.

… He detested the thought of being killed by a Crucible Knight.

Ferri ran towards the direction of the pillars as it came charging towards him, dodging his opponents attacks and purposely letting it hit the pillars. He heard a rumbling sound, then came another, and in which another followed shortly after. His plan was coming into fruition.

The ceiling came crashing down with large debris collapsing unto the Crucible knight, almost taking it with him too. If he hadn't narrowly avoided those falling debris, then he would have been surely entombed with it.

Is it over?

With no way of knowing other than assumption. His grin faded away. And his bloodlust, his blind rage, gone as it wasn't even there in the first place.

Quickly losing his temper like that… What had happened?

He regarded himself as someone that never relies on their emotions to decide the course of their actions. Therefore, losing control and letting his anger cloud his judgement deeply unsettled him. If he did that again and to an even greater foe than this one, then he might be visiting death's door a final time.

Perhaps, he could still probably survive even against all odds… after all he wasn't called a Lucky Cub for nothing… still can't they have picked another name for him? Have they no shame at all?

He felt vexed at being called a cub despite he, himself being the youngest in the group.

Ferri left and took a step towards the other end of the hallway, only to lean into a nearby wall and collapse under his knees. He was exhausted. Ferri took large breaths to regain his stamina.

This is odd. He felt more drained than usual. Normally he would have kept walking at a fast pace without trouble, not leisurely catching his breath and resting by the wall like this… Normally?

He was a mere human, so why was he currently having a conundrum about inhuman characteristics he should have?

Ferri sighed and forced himself to stand up and continue walking. His breathing was ragged as he tried to compose himself. He couldn't afford to leisurely stroll now, he needed to form up a plan to get to his comrades. Although for now he needed a way out of this dam maze.

His pace, even now. It wasn't long when he encountered something that piqued his interest.

His movement came into a halt before a set of stairs that led down below. He peered down the staircase and inspected what lies below. Only to find the abyss gazing back. Something lulled him to come down and he found himself agreeing to it.

Without his knowledge, Ferri was suddenly at the bottom of the stairs with a pool of blood underneath his heels. He looked around his surroundings and found — to his confusion — dead bodies lying everywhere around him. The state of their bodies indicated they were killed in a brutal manner and their clothes… Wait, they seem familiar to him.

He bent his knee down to get a better look and almost instantly he felt his eyes widen infinitesimally. Garbed in clothes meant for travelling and their ever present lutes clutched in their cold rotting hands.

These were the nomadic merchants they were assigned to murder… Visions of a massacre forcefully invaded his mind. The screams of the innocent, slaughtered indiscriminately. Subjugating the rest of them, burying them alive in an unknown vile place.

Their hopeless moans of desperation screamed loudly.

Stop.

The knight quickly brought his hands to his ears in a futile attempt to block out their anguished cries. But it was of no use, their voices grew louder and louder as if they were inside his head.

Cease.

Then their lamentation changed into a chorus channeled by their shared hatred and sorrow, chanting a curse of despair, summoning something unknown to him. Then it stopped. He could hear nothing.

Was it finally over? But he noticed something that he would've disregarded had he been not on edge.

At first it felt like he was in front of a hearth but all at once he felt agonizingly being burned alive. He couldn't even scream as he dropped to his knees, clawing at his helmet in a desperate attempt to stave off the fire that wasn't there. He kept trying to scratch his eyes — despite his helm in the way — but even through this pain, he was able to keep what little of his senses left to discern burned more intensely there, almost as if it was the source of his suffering.

Make it stop!

The fire gradually faded away, but not before it left something behind.

Bear all the curses, the suffering, the pain, their despair until all is melted away.

He was at a loss, what could all this mean? This isn't real, should not exist. But something was compelling him to sow and instill chaos to the world above and he felt himself losing to it and that mere thought terrified him more than anything he faced before.

He heard a slight noise not too far from here. A distant plink sound. The kind a liquid would make when it fell. Just ahead of him were the falling droplets of water in the same shade as the pool of blood he is standing upon. Then another fell not too far from the last one, and another fell, and then so on and so forth until he lost count.

Ferri looked up, following the droplets of blood.

Disbelief came barreling to the forefront of his mind. No, this can not be happening. A sob threatened to hitch out of his throat at the sight of the many armours that look almost identical to his. The ones he fought with, the men and women he cared for without showing it, his true brothers and sisters.

All crucified by barbed iron wires. His legs carried him forward and before he could even think, he was running towards them, splashing the endless pool of blood beneath his boots.

figures garbed in blue robes with black mantles and most prominently a mask adorned with white hair slowly stalked behind his crucified comrades, each with a longsword wielded in a two handed grip pointing it to their necks.

He didn't even need to think what would happen next but they were so far away so far out of reach that he could do nothing but desperately shout begging for them to stop.

It was all over, in one fluid motion their heads fell to the pool of blood. He saw red and anger boiled inside him, the same fury that caused him to lose that cool edge he had when he fought the Crucible Knight. Before he could even summon his gladius.

Men in red robes chanted a magic that he binded him in place. Strings of iron snaked around his body. Winding his armor and twisting them out of proportions. The thorns bit through without any resistance as if his armour wasn't there. It was the same barbed wires that entwined his comrades before they were executed.

He was being executed in the same manner he realized.

Blood continued to seep out of his armour as the briars coiled tightly. The whole process was agonizing yet he did not scream… not when already felt worse and did not— will not grant them the satisfaction of hearing him scream for his pain. Hatred still burned inside him but all of it went away, replaced with pity at the mere sight of him.

His Captain was there, bound in the same manner as he was. Even reduced to that state his mere presence still brought him awe and respect, in a way he exuded strength. But what brought him grief was that he was the last one to be executed.

His Captain was watching his whole family be murdered… Elemer, this will surely break him. He felt Elemer's eyes trained on him, trying to express his concerns and soothe him without using words.

This sombreness made him recall the words he kept repeating before.

Think nothing.

Feel nothing.

Be nothing.

He closed his eyes, eager to end it all.

The Tarnished stirred awake for the second time.

But he didn't immediately open his eyes once he woke, merely keeping them closed for a little while longer. His mind was wide awake now but his body was not, still lingering in the sweet embrace of sleep.

The sound of crackling and popping along with the heavy breaths of a person was present in his mind but he paid them no heed.

A moment passed before half opening his right eye and letting it wander before being joined by his left and stopping to stare at the source of the sounds.

The bonfire he made last night was still burning which meant not a lot of time had passed after he fell asleep. And that person is still sleeping through the pain. Quite tenacious isn't she.

This was his of waking up as to not have his vision be blurred lest risking disorientation… the foggy vision was quite displeasing and uncomfortable to him.

"That place again…"

Ferri noticed the slight trembling of his hands, he clenched his wrist and continued to flex his fingers before relaxing it. Unclenching his hand away, he rested his head atop it. Releasing a sigh, as if being reminded of a heavy burden on his shoulders.

That particular dream kept recurring to him ever since he's taken her in. The dream would place him in a mind far younger than his own currently, making him susceptible to far volatile emotions of his younger self and without the memories of the present only during that time.

A truly unpleasant dream. Young, naive emotional fool that aspires to be a knight for the sake of the people and dreams of a world without pain. That boy is no longer here anymore all that remains is a forlorn husk of armour that looks ready to fall over at the slightest touch, only held together by two duties given to him that he clings tightly with every fibre of his being just to justify his continued existence still standing.

Despite a very tired part of himself, whom wished to no longer remain in the waking world.

His eyes turned to the redheaded girl. In a sense, he could see a younger version of himself in her albeit in a more diluted image. Her cheerfulness was unmatched in this world in an almost blinding way that did not fit this bleak place they live in.

But how long until the darkness of this world eats away at her? All she values, ideals and everything she holds true would eventually rot away. Just like himself in the end.

Those principles won't apply here, it would sooner get you killed. It was unrealistic to save and care for the enemy and expect them to do the same.

His eyes narrowed into slits and stared far away seemingly glaring at nothing in front of him. Nor a peaceful ending, where both lived to see another day. Those last words were directed more at himself than her.

He reclined his head to look at the moonlit night sky; a clear sky free of clouds giving a wide berth to the stars above and to the full moon at which he stared absentmindedly. The deep azure night offered him no solace, but the chill wind that softly reminds him of home.

His mind drifts back to his dream — to his past.

Had his fallen order of knights — that he once took pride in when he became a part of —fell deep enough into the chasms of the abyss to commit such atrocities that he never noticed?

Sometimes he wondered if his homeland was never vanquished, would he still be a part of the Order of the Sword Dancers? Would they not have been reduced to mere mercenaries? Ruthless vagabonds that were paid in gold?

Would they never have committed genocide to a clan of innocent merchants?

Would Elemer… still be alive?

It was best to stop now rather than delve further and question the things that could never be changed anymore.

But there was one thing he was certain of. No matter the reason; regardless of the outcome, he just couldn't bring himself to hate his former comrades.

Even if they became the most unkind and inauspicious of men.

But without the duty given to him by grace, without his pursuit of a treasure commanded to him in service to the witch of blue. Then he is lost, without guidance there is no further meaning to himself. There is no reason to continue.

The Tarnished yet released another heavy sigh, before abruptly taking a knee and embedding his sheathed sword to the ground. The disgraced knight started reciting and repeating the words in his head like a mantra.

Senseless? Meaning? Purpose? It doesn't matter. Until this body can no longer stand up, he will do as he is ordered to.

Don't let it flow through. Emotions are unneeded, useless feelings and thoughts that lead the mind astray and cloud your decision. Let your heart turn to stone, and your eyes as cold as ice.

These words were instilled to his core. From the very day he started training as a knight to even now long after his first death. One of the first lessons Knight-Captain Elemer taught to new recruits is to always have a calm state of mind.

Then to something more personal, the advice he took to keenly the most. One of the many things Elemer had given to him and him only.

Think nothing.

Feel nothing.

Be nothing.

Then nothing will truly harm you.

Having finished his mantra, he rose and sat back on the log, letting the cold visage of unfeeling apathy sink into his form.

Ferri gazed at Rose's still form.

She was still in a deep slumber, recuperating from both her wounds inflicted by him and the sickness that sapped her strength and stamina away and caused her to cough up blood in her sleep.

Ferri was by no means an expert in the medical field, but It didn't take a healer to know that she was currently affiliated with a disease given the apparent fever. But what kind of ailment was lost on him.

What kind of disease could cause the skin in her left hand to decay?

Which is why he left identifying it to his other traveling companion, surely one from these lands were far more knowledgeable than he is. Now all that leaves him to do is to wait for her to come back and keep monitoring Rose's wellbeing should it get conditionally worse.

It shouldn't be that long now. Judging by that look of recognition in her eyes, Ferri suspected she already knew of it. But instead of telling him outright she paused, and he caught sight of a short glimpse of hesitation — with how her lips thinned into a thin line — she was holding back something.

Finally out of her stupor, she opened her mouth to answer but paused again, it seems a particular blue skinned witch required her attention. She apologized to him and soon after vanished into motes of light. Not much time has passed since then.

However, there was still one other thing to note when he inspected the girl's hand. Even before he examined her symptoms. It was when he first shook her hand that he noticed something remarkably rare.

Ruby's hand wasn't bloodied.

They were not the hands of a ruthless killer. Unsullied and Undirtied they belonged to an idealistic innocent child dreaming to be a hero. To put it simply, she hasn't killed anyone in her life.

It should have been telling already, when her silver eyes twinkled brightly at the dull cruel world. Perhaps he was getting rusty at discerning their behaviours and intentions… or perhaps it was more likely to be attributed to him being in nature a stoic man.

Not that he was bad at socializing, in fact he was perfectly fine at it, not on the level of a master conversationalist but he could hold a conversation if he wanted to… just that he preferred to do the listening instead of the talking.

After all, he preferred solitude much like his own people. Even if it was contradicting his own situation right now. His own comfort and privacy dispensed to care for another one. To tell the truth he wouldn't have brought her along solely that he knew it was illogical, he couldn't fight and protect at the same time especially if his deduction remains to be true.

That she couldn't kill even if her life depended on it.

But all thanks to his faux finger maiden's vague insistence, he was forced to reluctantly keep her safe and close at all times. His finger maiden's reasons are still unknown to him, even now. But he believed that he may get ahold of his answers tonight.

This place holds no kindness for sympathy and sentiments. The strong and powerful enjoy their debauchery and often do as they please at the expense of those weaker than them just because they are powerful. Whilst the meek and powerless could not afford to live in such a cruel and vile world. However, if they have the will to live — even if with a sufferable and deplorable one — they will do anything to survive because they are weak.

That is why didn't feel any guilt when he inflicted such injuries on her. She was fast; as swift as the wind, faster than any opponents he ever faced and such force with that speed would surely throw him back if he blocked the full brunt of the attack rather than merely parrying and deflecting it in time. and if he blinked even once then there will be no doubt that she would be able to break his defence.

But there was a problem, a flaw that remains stagnant within her. Each time she struck, she held back at the last possible moment. And only kept targeting his blade — trying to avoid hitting his body — until it broke. He had a feeling then that she was going to use the blunt side of her sword.

And then she proceeded to panic when she saw him bleed.

He needed to utterly break that side of her. Even going as far as to capitalize on her hesitation during their last trade. The next time they spar he will make sure that she will come at him with the intent to kill.

The only saving grace was that she managed to wound him greatly with her last attack. He had not expected the sword to be more potent in power than the last wielder he faced. For a person that did not believe magic exists at all managed to immensely amplify the swords power without any training and knowledge required perplexed him.

Maybe he should start asking his own questions soon.

But for what reason is he doing this? Currently from where he stands, there is nothing to gain from this. He will not only endanger himself more but her as well by bringing her along. Regardless of what his finger maiden wants.

Ferri shook his head lightly. Such thoughts were for another time. Until then, he will be merely forced to defend at two fronts. As for now, she was breathing normally and under the warm cover of a bedroll procured from Torrent's saddle.

He turned to watch the burning bonfire between them. Then proceeded to craft more fire pots with the remaining ingredients he had; it would only result in a total of three pots. The fire urns replaced his firebombs as this land has different elements than what he was used to. Still it surprised him that the alternate ingredients have the same effect.

Who would have known that a smoldering butterfly with mushrooms would replace black powder?

A warping sound distorted the air and a robed woman emerged from blue motes of ethereal light. She sat on her heel beside a tiny golden aura as her short red hair swayed against the wind. Her remaining good eye looked at him then to Ruby.

"Hello again little one," Melina greeted the unconscious Ruby without expecting back an answer, before she turned to him again.

She bowed her head gently to him.

"Pardon me for being delayed but Lady Ranni needed to confirm her suspicions with me…" she paused for a moment, looking apologetic. "And do forgive me for my indecisiveness."

"Your travelling companion, Ruby, I share in her plight to find a way home… which is why it brings me shame to be the bearer of bad news," her face turned grim and lowered her head once more.

"She has taken host to a foul and atrocious illness. The Scarlet Rot," Her tone was always the same flat tone but there was a barely noticeable hint of anger when she mentioned that word.

The Scarlet Rot…? Such disease was wholly lost upon him, this was his first time hearing of it.

"In the meantime take these," Melina handed out a pair of boluses covered by scarlet colored moss. "These are called Preserving Boluses, they will help in alleviating the pain but it is not a cure."

"It will only delay it. and do not give her large doses of the boluses as I am uncertain what effects the properties inside it would have on her," Ferri nodded and inspected the boluses before putting them away.

"Normally these boluses would cure the afflicted but—" a violent cough interrupted Melina before ending with a whimper. Melina frowned, she moved toward Ruby and gently raised her head to rest it on her lap before softly patting her head. "Poor child. The Sealed God of Rot has taken a keen interest in you. Death would have been preferable… Please endure, if not for your sake then assuredly for others that await your return."

As if comforted, Ruby's whimpering subsided. Satisfied, Melina continued to ruffle her hair before shifting back her focus towards the Tarnished.

"I take it this is your first time hearing of this?" Melina questioned to which he nodded.

"Then I will inform you of what I know."

"This child has — without to her knowledge — became an unwilling vessel of the God of Rot," Melina paused gesturing to their surroundings. "This land known as Caelid, once a vibrant lush of green, now lays decayed, malforming its life horribly. That is the Outer God known as the Scarlet Rot."

"Outer God?"

"They are mysterious beings of awe and dreadful power lacking any corporeal form and instead influence the very events of this world," Melina supplied. "The Scarlet Rot for one, and so is the Greater Will and among many others. None know their true number nor none can truly confirm they are Outer Gods. apart from speculating their status from a great number of scholars and followers alike."

Apart from the Greater Will, this information was too much for him as there were a lot of terms that he did not know of. Before he could even form another question in his mind fortunately, Meline continued.

"Lady Ranni has strictly forbidden me from truly telling you everything. At least until you fully comprehend everything that was spoken off and that she is certain that she can trust you." That is acceptable, he remembered he blindly and rudely entered into her service.

"And there is one more thing that she requires of you. In her own words 'Thou with all thine will, must cease the young rose from Blooming.'"

"Blooming?" He mouthed back.

Melina did not elaborate further.

The two heard a soft and gentle whistle singing through the air. Melina fixated her gaze at a particular golden incomplete ring where the ends didn't completely meet. Nestled gently on the young girl's ring finger.

"Torrent has taken a liking to her it seems," she gave off a small smile. A moment of silence passed between them, it was peaceful but it was broken immediately when he noticed Melina looked almost uncharacteristically uneasy.

"Tarnished, I know that I was supposed to withhold you from this but at least this little one should have the right to know. Do I have your word that you will tell her this when you feel the moment is right," She looked intently through his visor as if demanding an answer.

The Tarnished merely gave a nod.

Melina's lips tug infinitesimally upwards, pleased.

"The reason that I have been mostly away, and with Lady Ranni, was that we suspect there is something more than it seems with the little rose," She started, gently patting the girl's head on her lap affectionately. "Ages past, Long before the Shattering, Long before the Long March of the Tarnished, and long before even the Age of the Erdtree. There existed a woman grown, greatly resembling this little one here in my hands."

Melina paused again, examining the girl's sleeping face before she pressed on. "She, who bore the same black and red hair and the same lustrous silver eyes… she, whom stood beside the last Dragonlord. We suspect that she may be affiliated with the unnamed ancient Dragon God, another such Outer God whom has fled from this world before the Age of the Erdtree. More worryingly, is that if it were to return, then I fear for her safety,"

Meline shifted closer to Rose, whispering into her ear that he couldn't discern before pulling away.

"I am sorry, but that is all I could gather for her," She apologized but Ferri shook his head.

Again the serene calm and quiet proliferate the air around them. Only the slow sleeping breaths of his charge, the soft and gentle humming of his maiden and the nostalgic wind were present in his mind.

"Tarnished or would you prefer to be called Ferri Now?" Melina inquired after some time had passed.

"It does not matter to me." Ferri honestly answered, but ever so vigilant took note of the way his maiden cast him a disappointed look.

"Tarnished, then on to another matter."

"I admit I have not been around often but I am aware that you have entered into the service of Lady Ranni, and you seek the eternal city of Nokron but the path is hindered and the only way to unveil this path is to challenge the conqueror of the stars, General Radahn himself?" she asked almost rhetorically.

He nodded.

"If so then do not underestimate him, even if his wits are long gone and the Scarlet Rot eating inside him, he still holds the title of the strongest demigod, After all he is the one who held back the stars themselves," Melina had a thoughtful look on her face before frowning.

"Do forgive me; I am unable to give you advice on how to face him, given as I have not personally witnessed how he fares in battle."

"Although I will borrow this saying and impart these words of wisdom unto you, 'Against a feral beast stronger in every way, fight with both sharpness and shrewdness,' in short, fight smartly Tarnished," Melina smiled softly

"I may not have been close to him but he is still a relative of mine. I beg of you, put him into mercy and usurp his Great Rune." Melina pleaded, her tone soft.

"I will," He assured her that he will certainly succeed in this endeavor, even if it is against the strongest demigod. She smiled again, this time brighter than ever.

"Ever since I had you take her in, I have noticed that you talk more now than when we initially started. It seems that she has a great influence on you," Hmm, that must explain why his throat has been straining. "It is certainly a welcome change, although I would request that you take it easier on her when you train with her." She narrowed her eyes at the end and he didn't deign to reply.

"Shall I call you Ferri now?"

He moved his mouth to answer but he held his breath a little longer contemplating on the answer this time before deciding on a simple answer. "No."

Melina puffed a breath, a little amused.

"Well then, I shall be taking my leave. Summon me by grace should you be in need of me again. I bid you good luck and give my regards to Ruby, I do not wish to interrupt her dream." She made to stand up and lay her down but almost immediately, the dreaming form of Ruby clutched onto her arms like a lifeline.

"Mom…." she croaked out.

Melina frowned, her eyes betraying a tinge of sadness. "... I am sorry little one but I am not your mother," She continued to gently pry the young girl off her arms so as to not rouse her from her slumber. "But in a way, I can share my sympathies with you as I too, long to see my mother."

"Rest child, we will meet again," Melina bowed her head to her.

"Oh and one other thing Ferri. You believe yourself to be unkind and cruel. Locking off all your feelings to be hollow," Melina eyed The red hooded girl. "Your actions, albeit strangely, prove otherwise. You are kinder than most whether you deny it or not. That is all I have to say, take care of her for me."

She looked at him in the eye and smiled warmly one more time before disappearing in blue motes of light.

She smiles more often now he noticed. A noise caught his attention.

"Chocolate chip cookies my preciouzz… gimmezzz," Ruby muttered incomprehensibly, deep in her sleep with a smile on her drooling face. What are chocolate chip cookies?

He wonders, what could she be dreaming about? Regardless he was content to see her pain devoid from her and safe for now.

A pair of yellow orbs gazed observantly at the girl with the red cloak.

Author's Note:

So it's been a year… yay? At least I'm not dead yet.

I rewrote this chapter a great number of times that I failed to even remember. I stopped counting past seven and no that is not a metaphor. I just couldn't place how to write this chapter without revealing too much information as I have plans and twists in the far future until I eventually settled onto something I'm content with.

For those confused about Ferri's personality in the first dream sequence it's because I wanted to show him regressing his mentality back to when he was a lot younger. If I failed to portray this inconsistency let me know as I want to become a better writer by learning from my mistakes. And always any constructive criticism is welcome, I really need feedback to become a better writer

Anyways it has been a long time since I played the game or any soulsborne games in general so will need to research and play again before continuing this and I won't be working on the next chapter for quite some time as I have quite a few new story ideas I want to write first before proceeding with this one. How long exactly though is indefinite, might be shorter or might be longer than the time it took to post this chapter so keep your expectations low, then you won't be disappointed as much. To give a hint: the first one is a cross of RWBY/Darkest Dungeon and the other one Danmachi/Warhammer Fantasy.

See you all next year on April 11, 2024.

Just joking.

Omake II: I offer you an "Accord."

"Ah, erm… Oops?"

- Ruby Rose, probably.

When Azure offered to let her drive in his steed named Torrent, Ruby couldn't exactly fault herself for expecting a lot of things. It could be a Unicorn, or a Pegasus, or a magical mix between a goat and a horse! …alright, she's gotta have to hand it in to herself for that one was a bit too weird and out of place even for her. On the other hand, it could just very well have been a plain old horse.

Although she got one thing right. What he pulled out definitely exceeded her expectations and left her speechless with her mouth left hanging wide open.

A Honda Accord was certainly not on her list.

WHAT IN THE NAME OF COOKIES IS A CAR DOING HERE IN A FANTASY THEMED WORLD!?

Well to be fair, no one would really expect a modern car in what seemed like a medieval era setting… looking back at the silver car again… it really looked out of place.

Even the goat-horse hybrid she thought pales in comparison to this… ugh, this is somehow ruining her immersion

This definitely blew her mind enough that her brain didn't even register Azure trying to snap her out of it by waving his hand in front of her face.

How would something like a car fit into here of all places? Where guns still haven't existed. Maybe she was just overthinking things, it could just be an illusion. Yes! Maybe that's it. But what if it isn't? What if all the parts inside are authentic?

And can someone please tell me why guns have not been invented yet!?

Aahhh!

Owow ouch. ookay, this is giving her a headache. Trying to take a breather, she noticed that he was trying to get her attention.

Ruby slapped her cheeks hard enough to leave red hand imprints on it

Better not to think too much over it, let's just hear what he wants to say. Hmm? What's that shiny thing and is that a doll?

He held out a keychain — there was a mini blue doll with a white wide brimmed hat connected to it… it was surprisingly rather cute that he had accessories attached to it — and dangled it in front of her.

"Doth thee wanteth to try?" Ruby's eyes beamed at the prospect of driving his vehicle and almost grabbed the key from him before restraining herself. Her arm stopped short mere inches apart from it, whilst his head tilted at her hesitant inaction.

Well she never drove a car before, but if Yang can drive Bumblebee then who says that she wouldn't be able to do the same? Well not exactly the same since it's a car, but how hard could it be?

"Sure!" Ruby took the keys from him and bolted to the car with Azure following suit.

As Ruby slammed the door shut and inserted the key to the ignition before turning it, a hidden glint shined in her eyes as she listened to the engine rev. Azure who lagged behind entered the car in the passenger seat and saw her gleaming eyes that hid behind intentions unknown to him.

And ultimately did nothing to question her intentions.

She looked at the shift… then to the missing clutch pedal… danggit! it wasn't a manual. Now she can't copy those cool moves the movie and anime characters do when they make those awesome drifts!

Wait, maybe she can still somehow do it!

She may be an inexperienced driver, but she was never known to give up without trying.

She powered on her music player and played eurobeat music out loud — Azure, who had never seen such a device, was going to ask her what manner of tool is that before concern immediately took hold of him as she grabbed the stick… aggressively and shifted it from Park to Drive.

"Prithee drive carefully... Ruby?" She didn't answer back. Instead she ste-stomped on the accelerator pedal.

Azure would later come to rue his decision. A regretfully expensive decision.

…

Ruby could only dumbly stare at Azure, then to Torrent crashed at a boulder then back to him again. Before sheepishly scratching the back of her head and putting on an awkward smile.

… It was going to take every Rune he had to fix Torrent wouldn't it?