Chapter IX:
Nathaniel was traveling through Limgrave, the air crisp with the scent of wildflowers and the distant sound of rushing water. The landscape was dotted with ruins and the remnants of battles long past. As he navigated a rocky outcrop, he spotted a commotion below—a wolf-man, towering and fierce, engaged in a brutal fight with a man in peculiar armor and a cape, the latter moving with unsettling, dog-like grace.
Nathaniel's eyes widened as he recalled the merchant Kale's words about a wolf-man named Blaidd. His gaze was drawn to the giant sword the wolf-man wielded, its edge glinting in the sunlight.
Blaidd growled, "Darriwil, you traitor."
Darriwil remained silent, his movements fluid and deadly as he clashed with Blaidd, the sound of steel ringing out across the clearing.
Nathaniel slid down the embankment, approaching the chaotic melee. "Hey, are you Blaidd?" he shouted over the din of battle.
Blaidd barely spared him a glance, deflecting a blow with his massive sword. "Uh, a little busy!" he barked.
"Okay. Let me help you out." He drew his greatsword.
Darriwil's eyes flicked to Nathaniel, his lip curling in disdain. "Another one? How quaint."
Nathaniel grinned, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "Let's see how quaint this is." He charged at Darriwil, his greatsword arcing toward the traitor.
Darriwil dodged with inhuman agility, but the distraction gave Blaidd the opening he needed. With a snarl, Blaidd swung his sword in a deadly arc, slicing across Darriwil's side. Darriwil howled in pain, stumbling back.
Nathaniel pressed the advantage, his strikes coming fast and hard. Darriwil's defences faltered, and soon he was on the defensive, trying to fend off both Nathaniel and Blaidd.
Blaidd's voice was a deep growl as he fought. "You have the courage, boy. Let's finish this."
Nathaniel nodded, focusing on the rhythm of the fight. Together, they moved in a deadly dance, their attacks synchronized. Darriwil tried to fight back, but he was no match for their combined strength and skill.
With a final, powerful strike, Blaidd brought his sword down on Darriwil, the blade biting deep. Darriwil crumpled to the ground, defeated.
Blaidd stood over the fallen traitor, breathing heavily. He turned to Nathaniel, his fierce eyes softening slightly. "You fight well, stranger. Who are you?"
Nathaniel sheathed his sword, a grin spreading across his face. "Nathaniel. And you must be Blaidd. Kale told me about you."
Blaidd nodded, wiping the blood from his sword. "Aye, I am. And you've earned my respect today, Nathaniel. You have my thanks."
Nathaniel glanced at Darriwil's lifeless form. "No problem. It was actually kinda fun."
Blaidd chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "Fun, eh? You're an interesting one, Nathaniel. If you ever need my help, you know where to find me."
Nathaniel nodded. "Likewise, Blaidd. Likewise."
As they parted ways, Nathaniel couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. He was getting stronger, and with allies like Blaidd, maybe he had a chance of surviving this strange, dangerous world.
Nathaniel trudged through the dense foliage of Limgrave, the sun dipping low in the sky. He was lost in thought, replaying his recent encounters in his mind. The weight of his situation pressed down on him, but he couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement at the prospect of each new challenge.
As he rounded a bend, he heard a voice echoing off the cliffs. "Hello! Can someone help me!? I am about to fall!"
Nathaniel's brow furrowed as he approached the source of the voice. He peered over the edge of the cliff and saw a man with blonde hair and a goatee, precariously dangling by one hand.
"Somebody needs my help. I'll save you!" Nathaniel called out.
With a quick, practiced move, he reached down and grabbed Kenneth's arm, hauling him up onto solid ground. Kenneth dusted himself off, his expression a mix of relief and haughty indignation.
"You okay, man?" Nathaniel asked.
"Thank you. Thank you, so much. Oh?" Kenneth said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Nathaniel's appearance.
"What?"
"Th-the help is very much appreciated. Even from a Tarnished. Despite appearances, nobility is no prerequisite to serving the true Order. You might have heard of me. Kenneth Haight. Next in line as the rightful ruler of Limgrave."
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "No, I've never heard of you in my life."
"Wha-? I am insulted. How do you not know about me? I am Lord Kenneth Haight."
'Rude,' Nathaniel thought to himself. "Okay, Lord Kenneth Haight. What do you need?"
"Tarnished, I would have a boon of you. I want you to take back my fort. It lies to the south, beyond the Mistwood. A Knight Commander from Stormveil took it. A fool, and plumb mad to boot. Obsessed with becoming a dragon."
"A dragon?" Nathaniel echoed, incredulous.
"Taking part in dragon communions."
"Oh, I see."
"So, would you help me?" Kenneth asked, his tone imperious.
"You're telling me to take back an entire fort, Mr Haight." Nathaniel said, skepticism lacing his voice.
"That is Lord Kenneth Haight to you," Kenneth corrected.
"Lord Kenneth Haight," Nathaniel repeated, rolling his eyes internally.
"I am not asking you for much but to get back my fort."
"But I'm getting a reward, right?" Nathaniel pressed.
"Fret not, the great Kenneth Haight is known for his considerable largesse. The celebrations will be lavish indeed, upon the dawn of my fort's retrieval."
'The way this guy talks...' Nathaniel thought. "Okay. I'll do it. But I need you to mark it on my map."
Kenneth quickly pointed out the location on Nathaniel's map. "Right here."
"Okay. So...?" Nathaniel asked, sensing there was more to the request.
"What are you waiting for? A kiss goodbye? Get back my fort!" Kenneth demanded.
"Okay! Okay! Ugh," Nathaniel muttered, turning away and heading in the direction Kenneth had indicated.
As he walked, he couldn't help but shake his head. 'This guy better have some serious loot waiting for me,' he thought. But deep down, the thrill of the adventure and the challenge ahead stirred his spirit. If he was going to be stuck in this world, he might as well make the most of it.
Nathaniel rested at the Site of Grace, feeling the warmth of its light seep into his bones. As he closed his eyes, the world around him seemed to fade, replaced by a serene calm. When he opened them, Melina stood before him, her presence ethereal and commanding.
"Tarnished, what dost thou seek in Limgrave?" Melina's voice was calm as ever, but a hint of curiosity flickered in her eyes.
Nathaniel stretched and yawned, trying to shake off the weariness. "Just wanted to check things out. You know Kenneth Haight?"
"The nobleman?"
"Yeah, that's him. He wants me to take back his fort."
"Didst thou inquire of any reward?"
Nathaniel nodded. "Yeah, but he wasn't exactly clear about it."
"Would it not be more prudent to confront Godrick?"
"Maybe, but I don't feel like rushing into that right now." Nathaniel said. He knew Melina was right, but the thought of facing Godrick was daunting.
"Thou art foolish."
Nathaniel shot her a look, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Hey, watch it! I'm just being practical. Running into battle headfirst isn't the smartest move. Cut me some slack, will ya?"
"This is a squander of time. Time that would be better spent vanquishing Godrick."
"Well, I don't want to."
"Why not? Thou hast already felled the Fell Omen."
Nathaniel sighed, his shoulders slumping. His mind wandered to Roderika, her grief still raw and palpable. "It's because of Roderika. She's still mourning her friends. She wants to help me take down Godrick, so I'm waiting for her."
Melina's expression softened, her tone less stern. "Very well."
Nathaniel glanced at her, surprised by the change in her demeanour. "So, I'm gonna take Fort Haight. Are you gonna join me?"
"Indeed..."
"Seriously?"
"Tarnished, let us expedite this matter. The swifter we reclaim the fort, the sooner we can resume thy quest to defeat Godrick."
Nathaniel shook his head. 'Does she think all I care about is taking down demigods?'
He rose from his spot, feeling the weight of his decision settle on his shoulders. Taking Fort Haight might seem like a diversion, but it was a necessary one. Not just for Kenneth, but for Roderika, and maybe even for himself. He glanced at Melina, her expression unreadable, and felt a surge of determination. They were partners in this, whether she admitted it or not.
"Alright, let's go take back that fort," Nathaniel said.
Nathaniel and Melina crouched behind a crumbling wall, surveying Fort Haight. The fort was teeming with guards, but one figure stood out: a knight clad in Godrick's colours, clearly the commander. Nathaniel could feel his heart pounding as he watched the knight barking orders to his men.
"So, Melina? Which one do you think is the leader?"
Melina glared at Nathaniel.
Nathaniel raised his hands. "Kidding."
"Bring my next prey!" the knight commanded.
A peasant man, covered in dirt and trembling with fear, was dragged into view. "Oh kind, sir. Have mercy upon me!" he pleaded.
"Release him from his cage," the knight ordered.
The guards unlocked the cage and shoved the peasant forward. "Please don't!" the man cried out, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
The knight's head suddenly transformed into that of a dragon, and with a swift, horrifying motion, he bit the peasant's head off.
Nathaniel's eyes widened in shock. "What the fuck!?"
The knight revelled in the gruesome display. "Such power is astounding. Truly magnificent. I can hardly wait to transform into a dragon."
Nathaniel turned to Melina. "Did you see that?"
"Yes, he used the dragon hearts for communion to further his transformation into a dragon," Melina replied, her voice calm but tinged with disgust.
"That shit's so messed up."
The knight barked more orders. "Alright. Men, get rid of this body."
"Understood, Sir Hector," one of the guards responded.
Nathaniel glanced back at Melina. "We need to do something. We need a plan. I'm going to distract the guards below, and then you sneak attack the knight."
"M-Melina?" he stammered as he realized she was gone, disappearing without a word.
"Dammit. Plan B," Nathaniel muttered under his breath. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. He knew he had to act quickly.
Nathaniel moved silently, using the shadows to his advantage. He crept closer to the guards, heart pounding, as he devised a way to create a distraction. He picked up a rock and hurled it into the distance, creating a noise that drew the guards' attention.
"What was that?" one guard asked, looking towards the noise.
"Go check it out," another ordered.
As the guards moved away, Nathaniel seized the opportunity. He slipped through the shadows, making his way toward the commander. With each step, he could feel the tension building. This was it—no turning back now.
When he was close enough, Nathaniel lunged at Sir Hector, aiming to take him by surprise. The knight turned just in time to see Nathaniel, and their eyes locked for a brief, intense moment.
"You!" Hector snarled, his face contorting with rage. "You dare challenge me?"
Nathaniel tightened his grip on his weapon. "Yeah, I dare," he said, determination burning in his eyes. The battle was on, and Nathaniel knew he had to give it everything he had.
Nathaniel staggered back, clutching his bleeding stomach. The pain was sharp and immediate, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay on his feet. Sir Hector's transformation was more terrifying up close, with his claws glinting menacingly under the fort's dim light.
"Well, you are a fool to challenge me!" Hector roared, his voice a guttural growl that echoed through the stone walls.
Nathaniel glared at him through the haze of pain. "I'm just getting started."
With a roar of anger, Hector lunged forward again, his claws slashing through the air with deadly precision. Nathaniel barely managed to roll out of the way, wincing as he felt the claws graze his side. He scrambled to his feet, his mind racing. He had to get a hit in—he couldn't let Hector's monstrous form intimidate him.
Nathaniel drew his greatsword with a shaky hand, its weight both a comfort and a burden. He swung it in a wide arc, aiming for Hector's exposed side. Hector deflected the blow with a swipe of his claws, but the force of the impact sent him staggering back a few steps.
"Is that all you've got?" Hector taunted, his dragon-like eyes narrowing with a cruel glint.
Nathaniel took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves despite the throbbing pain. He needed a strategy—a way to get past Hector's defences. He noticed that Hector's dragon form, while powerful, had weaknesses: the transformation was incomplete, leaving certain areas vulnerable.
Hector charged again, his claws aiming for Nathaniel's throat. Nathaniel ducked and rolled to the side, using his momentum to swing the sword upward in a powerful arc. The blade connected with Hector's shoulder, causing him to roar in pain and fury.
"You're not the only one who can dish out pain," Nathaniel growled, sweat mingling with blood on his brow.
Hector snarled, his dragon eyes blazing with rage. "You think you can defeat me? I am on the path to becoming a true dragon! You are nothing but an insect!"
Nathaniel's heart raced as he felt his strength waning. He had to finish this quickly. He sidestepped Hector's next attack and swung his sword with all his remaining strength, aiming for the knight's vulnerable neck.
Hector's eyes widened in shock as the blade found its mark. The dragon-like form flickered and twisted as Nathaniel's strike cut through, leaving Hector disoriented and vulnerable.
The knight staggered back, his claws grasping at the wound as he tried to maintain his balance. "No... This cannot be..."
Nathaniel thought. 'Now is my chance.'
Nathaniel lunged fowared but Hector used his dragon claw to strike Nathaniel's stomach.
"Fuck!" Nathaniel yelled.
Nathaniel staggered back, blood trickling from his wounded stomach. Sir Hector, now fully immersed in his monstrous form, loomed over him, his claws dripping with Nathaniel's blood. The knight's eyes glowed with a feral, almost maddened light, a testament to the twisted power he revelled in.
"You see, Tarnished," Hector roared, his voice a guttural, dragon-like growl. "Power is magnificent! It's intoxicating! Do you feel it? The strength, the dominance? This is what I've always dreamed of!"
Nathaniel gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain. Hector's wild proclamations were unsettling, and he could see the insanity in the knight's eyes. "You're insane," Nathaniel spat, trying to keep his focus despite the agony. "This isn't power. It's madness."
Hector laughed, a harsh, dissonant sound that echoed through the fort. "Madness? No, this is liberation! When you wield such power, you become unstoppable, unbreakable! I can feel every part of my being becoming more than human. More than anything you could ever imagine!"
Nathaniel's breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to push through the pain. He could see now, clearly, what unchecked power could do to a person. Hector's transformation wasn't just physical—it had warped his mind, twisted his values. The once noble knight had become a creature of pure, unbridled power, driven mad by his own ambition.
"I don't want that," Nathaniel said. "I don't want to be a monster. I don't want to lose myself like you have."
Hector's eyes flashed with anger. "You don't understand! You're weak, limited! You could never grasp the true potential of such power!"
As Hector lunged again, his claws aiming to tear through Nathaniel's defences, Nathaniel barely managed to roll out of the way. The knight's feral laughter was a constant, maddening backdrop to the battle. Nathaniel's resolve hardened. He was not going to let Hector's twisted vision of power consume him. He refused to become like the knight before him, driven mad by his own strength.
The realization gave Nathaniel a surge of clarity amidst the chaos. He had seen the cost of Hector's power, and it was more than he was willing to pay. He needed to end this fight, not just for his own survival, but to prevent the spread of such corruption.
With renewed determination, Nathaniel pushed through the pain, raising his greatsword with a final burst of strength. He aimed for Hector's vulnerable spots, striking with precision borne from desperation and clarity.
The knight roared in frustration and pain as Nathaniel's blade cut deep, forcing him to stagger back. Hector's dragon-like form flickered, his once-powerful claws now seeming less formidable as his transformation began to wane.
"You'll never comprehend," Hector snarled. "You are but a fool, Tarnished! You shall never savour the greatness of true power!"
Nathaniel pressed the attack, his sword cleaving through Hector's defences. "I don't need to," Nathaniel said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion. "I've seen what power does to a person. That's more than enough."
Melina stood silently in the shadows, her gaze cold and calculating. The chaos of the battlefield had begun to settle, the clamour of combat replaced by the subdued murmur of soldiers tending to their wounds or gathering their fallen.
From her vantage point, she could see a small group of soldiers huddled together, their conversation punctuated by the weariness of their defeat. One of them, a burly man with a grimy face, muttered, "I'm going to take a piss."
As the soldier moved away from the group, Melina's eyes narrowed with intent. She slipped through the darkness with practiced ease, her movements barely making a sound. The soldier was oblivious to her approach, his thoughts focused on the relief he sought.
Just as he reached a secluded spot, Melina's blade flashed in the dim light. She slit his throat with a swift, precise motion, the soldier's gasp for breath cut short. He fell to the ground, clutching at his neck as the life drained from him.
A voice called out from the shadows, "Varick? Are you okay?" The question was tinged with concern, but it was too late for Varick. The speaker, a younger soldier with a fearful expression, stumbled toward the fallen man.
Melina's blade moved quickly again. She was already upon him before he could react, her dagger slicing through his flesh with ruthless efficiency. The soldier's eyes widened in shock and pain, but his life was extinguished before he could even utter a sound of surprise.
The remaining soldiers, now aware of the silent threat among them, began to panic. They scattered, trying to defend themselves from an unseen attacker. But Melina was relentless, cutting through them with practiced precision. Each movement was smooth, each strike fatal. Her cold determination was evident in every motion as she navigated the battlefield like a shadow of death, leaving only fallen soldiers in her wake.
The scene was eerily silent after the initial chaos, punctuated only by the soft thud of bodies hitting the ground and the occasional, muffled cry of those who were unfortunate enough to be caught in her path. To Melina, the violence was not personal but necessary—a means to an end in the pursuit of her goals.
She moved with a purpose, her expression unchanging, her eyes scanning for any remaining threats or targets. The fort was being secured, the last remnants of resistance eliminated with cold efficiency. Melina knew that this was the nature of their world—a brutal, unforgiving place where survival often meant embracing the darker aspects of one's nature.
As the last of the soldiers fell, Melina's gaze turned toward Nathaniel, who was recovering from his wounds. There was a brief flicker of something in her eyes—perhaps a touch of satisfaction, or perhaps something more complex. It was a reminder that even amidst the brutality, there was a purpose to their actions, a goal to be achieved.
The air in Fort Haight was thick with tension as Hector loomed over Nathaniel, his monstrous form casting a dark shadow. A soldier hurried toward Hector, his voice frantic. "Sir Hector! A woman in a black cloak is cutting us down. We need—"
Before he could finish, Melina's blade flashed through the air, silencing him forever. Blood splattered across her face as she turned toward Nathaniel. "Nathaniel, are you injured?" she asked, her voice laced with concern despite the coldness in her eyes.
"Yeah, I've had better days," Nathaniel replied, wincing as he touched his wounds.
Hector's deranged laughter echoed through the fort. "A Tarnished and his maiden. How delightful! This should be an entertaining fight!"
"Melina, this guy is fucking insane," Nathaniel said, trying to catch his breath. "He's not just a brute; he's a real monster."
"I hath surmised as much," Melina said, her gaze unwavering as she prepared for the confrontation.
Her dagger began to glow with an ethereal light, casting a strange luminescence on her determined face.
"What manner of dagger is that?" Nathaniel asked, trying to make sense of the glowing weapon.
"Now is not the time for inquiries, Nathaniel," Melina replied firmly. "We must focus."
"Right," Nathaniel said, nodding in agreement as he gripped his own weapon. "Let's take this guy down."
Melina and Nathaniel readied themselves for battle, their combined resolve a stark contrast to Hector's madness. With a determined look, Melina's voice cut through the tension. "Prepare yourself, Hector. We are ending this here."
"Let's kick his ass!" Nathaniel shouted, charging forward with renewed vigour.
Melina followed closely, her glowing dagger poised for the decisive strike as they closed in on Hector, ready to face the monstrous enemy together.
The clash between Nathaniel, Melina, and Hector was a maelstrom of steel and fury. The fort's battlements echoed with the sounds of their battle: the clang of weapons, the shouts of combatants, and the occasional roar of Hector's monstrous form.
Nathaniel charged forward, his greatsword swinging in wide arcs. Hector's claws slashed through the air, meeting Nathaniel's blade with bone-rattling force. The sheer power behind Hector's strikes was staggering; each blow sent shockwaves through Nathaniel's arms, threatening to disarm him.
"Is this all you can muster?" Hector taunted, his eyes alight with a twisted mix of pleasure and madness. "The power to become a dragon has rendered me invincible!"
"Power doesn't make you invincible," Nathaniel grunted, barely managing to parry a vicious swipe. "It just turns you into a monster!"
Hector's eyes narrowed, his form shifting and rippling as if struggling to contain the dragon's influence. "Monster? No, Tarnished. I am evolution itself! You should be honoured to fall before me."
"Enough of thy wicked talk!" Melina used her dagger to fire a light arc at Hector, keeping him distracted.
Melina then darted around the periphery of the battlefield, her movements fluid and precise. Her glowing dagger left trails of light as she weaved through the chaos, slicing down any soldiers who dared to approach. She glided silently, her presence barely perceptible until she struck with deadly accuracy.
Melina's focus was on Hector's weak points. She waited for the opportune moment, her dagger poised for a precise strike. With each movement, she felt a surge of power from the enchanted weapon, its glow intensifying as she neared her target.
Hector, consumed by his own power, roared with rage and swung his claws wildly at Nathaniel. "Feel the wrath of a dragon!" he bellowed, the dragon's influence distorting his voice.
Nathaniel, gritting his teeth against the pain, retaliated with a powerful overhead strike. Hector barely managed to block, his monstrous form showing signs of strain. The dragon's power was both a blessing and a curse, granting him immense strength but also causing him to lose control.
"Melina, now!" Nathaniel shouted, trying to keep Hector's attention diverted.
Melina sprang into action, her dagger glowing brightly as she closed in on Hector. She slipped past Nathaniel and struck with pinpoint accuracy, targeting the vulnerable areas where the dragon's transformation was weakest.
Hector howled in pain, his monstrous form convulsing as the dagger's magic pierced through his defences. "No! This cannot be!" he roared.
The combined assault was too much for Hector to withstand. As Nathaniel pressed his advantage, pushing Hector back with a series of relentless strikes, Melina continued to exploit the weaknesses, her dagger slicing through the dragon's power with every thrust.
With a final, earth-shaking roar, Hector collapsed to the ground, his form reverting to that of a man, though twisted and broken. His once fearsome presence was now nothing more than a shadow of its former self.
Breathing heavily, Nathaniel wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to Melina. "We did it."
Melina nodded, her expression stoic but her eyes reflecting the toll of the battle. "Indeed. We have vanquished the beast."
Nathaniel looked around at the fort, now eerily quiet in the aftermath of the fight. "Let's get out of here and let Kenneth know his fort is safe."
"I will not be felled by a Tarnished..." Hector said.
Hector took a rock that was shaped of a heart and put it inside him.
The battle had taken a grim turn. Hector, his body writhing and shifting, had used the rock heart to transform himself into a fearsome humanoid dragon. His human skin was replaced by tough, scaled dragon hide, and his face was a monstrous snout, lined with razor-sharp teeth.
Nathaniel's eyes widened in horror as Hector's dragon-claws swiped through the air with terrifying speed. "Melina! Look out!" he shouted, but it was too late.
Hector's clawed hand struck Melina with brutal force, sending her sprawling to the ground. She gasped in pain, clutching her stomach where the wound bled freely. Her usually composed demeanour faltered, and she struggled to rise, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"No!" Nathaniel's voice cracked with desperation as he saw Melina's state. The sight of her bloodied and wounded spurred a surge of rage within him. "You're fucking dead!" he roared, his fury echoing through the fort's walls.
Hector's monstrous form turned to face Nathaniel, a cruel smirk twisting his dragon's maw. "Such rage. It only makes my victory sweeter," Hector gloated, his voice a deep, distorted growl.
Nathaniel's mind raced as he watched Hector prepare for another attack. His thoughts flashed back to his recent realization: his immortality. He remembered how he'd come back from death before, how the power of the grace had allowed him to defy mortality.
An idea sparked in his mind. Nathaniel gritted his teeth, his resolve hardening. He gripped his greatsword tightly, the weight of his weapon grounding him in the present. He knew what he had to do. If he could keep Hector occupied, if he could just hold out long enough—
He took a deep breath and charged at Hector with renewed determination. "Come on, you bastard!" he yelled, swinging his greatsword in wide, powerful arcs. The blade cleaved through the air, and Hector had to focus on fending off Nathaniel's relentless assault.
Hector's dragon claws met Nathaniel's sword with a resounding clash. The dragon-man's scales were tough, but Nathaniel's attacks were fuelled by his fury and the advantage of his immortality. He fought with a frenzied intensity, using every ounce of his strength to land blows that would have otherwise been fatal.
"You think you can defeat me?" Hector roared. "I am beyond mortal limits!"
Nathaniel gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face. "You're nothing but a fucking monster!" he shouted back, his voice raw with emotion. "You've lost your humanity!"
Nathaniel's strikes grew more frenzied, his rage giving him a strength he hadn't known he possessed. He aimed for the gaps in Hector's dragon-hide, exploiting any weakness he could find. Each swing of his greatsword was a testament to his resolve, his determination to avenge Melina and put an end to Hector's monstrous reign.
In the midst of the battle, Nathaniel could feel the familiar, unsettling sensation of his body breaking apart—his immortality reasserting itself. It was both terrifying and reassuring. He knew that as long as he could keep fighting, Hector could never truly defeat him.
Finally, with a massive, overhead strike, Nathaniel drove his sword deep into Hector's chest. The dragon-man let out a guttural roar of agony, his form shuddering as the blade pierced through his scaled hide. Hector's monstrous face twisted in a snarl of pain and disbelief as he staggered backward.
Nathaniel pulled his sword free, his chest heaving with exertion. Hector's dragon-man form began to collapse, his strength waning as the dragon's power was torn apart by Nathaniel's relentless assault.
"No. How have I been slain?"
The monstrous creature fell to the ground, defeated and broken.
Breathing heavily, Nathaniel looked over at Melina, who was still struggling to get up. He ran to her side. "Melina! Melina! Are you alright?" he asked urgently.
Nathaniel's heart raced as he rushed to Melina's side, his eyes wide with panic. "No! No!"
Melina, struggling to stand, met his worried gaze. "Tarnished…"
"Oh god. Melina. You're bleeding!" Nathaniel's voice cracked. He could see the crimson staining her clothes and the pained expression on her face.
"I…" Melina began, but her voice faltered as she tried to stay upright.
"We need to get you help. Take us to the Roundtable Hold," Nathaniel said urgently, his hands hovering around her but unsure how to best support her.
"Yes," Melina replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just give me a moment."
Nathaniel's mind raced. He couldn't lose her. Not after everything they had been through. He grabbed her gently but firmly, supporting her as she leaned on him for support. Her breaths were shallow, each one seeming to sap her strength further.
Melina closed her eyes for a brief moment, focusing on steadying her breath. "We will… we will reach the Roundtable Hold," she said with great effort. "I need you to… stay strong."
Nathaniel nodded, trying to keep his own fear in check. "We'll get through this. Just hold on."
With Melina leaning heavily on him, Nathaniel guided her through the fort, navigating the chaos left in the wake of their battle. He glanced around, making sure they weren't followed or ambushed as they moved toward their destination.
As they reached the fort's exit, Nathaniel helped Melina through the door and into the fresh air. He glanced around, noting the approaching twilight that cast long shadows over the landscape. He felt a surge of determination. They had to get to safety, and he couldn't afford to falter now.
"Take us there now!"
Nathaniel grabbed Melina's hand and they were transported.
As they travelled toward the Roundtable Hold, Nathaniel's grip on Melina remained steady. He occasionally glanced at her, his worry growing with each passing moment. Her breathing was laboured, and he could see the pain etched on her face.
When they finally arrived at the Roundtable Hold, Nathaniel nearly collapsed with relief. He helped Melina inside, where the sight of familiar faces and the promise of aid provided hope.
"Help!" Nathaniel shouted as he carried Melina through the doors. "She's wounded. We need immediate assistance!"
The denizens of the Roundtable Hold rushed to their aid, and as Melina was carefully taken from Nathaniel's arms, he took a moment to catch his breath. The worry that had been consuming him began to ease slightly, though the weight of the situation still pressed heavily on him.
He watched anxiously as the healers and attendants worked to tend to Melina's injuries. Despite the chaos and fear, Nathaniel's resolve remained unshaken. He would do whatever it took to ensure Melina's recovery and continue their quest.
Roderika rushed forward, her face pale with worry. "What happened!?"
Nathaniel's voice trembled as he tried to stay calm amidst the chaos. "I can't explain right now! Just… get a bandage. Quickly!"
Corhyn, the healer, approached with a determined expression. "Did something happen?" he asked.
"Melina was hurt," Nathaniel replied, his eyes not leaving Melina's injured form.
Corhyn's face hardened with resolve. "Don't worry. Set her on the bed. I will use my healing incantation to tend the wound."
Nathaniel carefully laid Melina down on the bed, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to ensure she was as comfortable as possible. Corhyn moved with practiced efficiency, gathering the necessary supplies and beginning his incantation.
As Corhyn chanted softly, a warm, soothing light enveloped Melina. The pain she had been enduring began to fade, replaced by a calming sensation. Her breathing gradually steadied, and the pained expression on her face softened.
"Nathaniel…" Melina's voice was barely a whisper.
Nathaniel felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Oh, thank God. Melina, you're okay," he said, his voice choked with emotion. He reached out, gently grasping her hand. "I was so worried."
Melina managed to speak, her eyes fluttering closed as the healing magic continued to work. "I… I shall be well," she said softly. "I merely need rest."
Corhyn's incantation continued, the glow from his hands gradually fading as the healing took effect. He stepped back, his face showing a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. "The wound is mending. She'll need rest, but she'll recover."
Roderika, who had been hovering anxiously nearby, let out a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness. I was so afraid."
Nathaniel looked at Roderika and Corhyn, his gratitude evident. "Thank you both. I don't know what I'd have done if something happened to her."
Corhyn gave a nod. "Just make sure she gets plenty of rest. Healing is one thing, but recovery requires time."
Nathaniel nodded, his eyes returning to Melina. "I'll make sure she gets everything she needs."
As the room quieted down, Nathaniel settled into a chair beside Melina's bed.
Gideon shuffled into the room, his eyes scanning the scene. "What is all this commotion about?"
Nathaniel looked up, his face lined with worry. "Melina's hurt."
Gideon's brows furrowed. "Truly by what?"
Nathaniel took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "A knight that transform himself into a dragon looking creature."
Gideon's interest piqued. "Describe him."
Nathaniel's voice was steady despite the lingering tension. "He had dragon scale skin and a face like a dragon, but he still retained a human form."
Gideon's eyes narrowed as he listened. "He used something called the Rock Heart."
"What the hell is that?"
Gideon took a moment to gather his thoughts. "A Heart consumed in the ancient, original form of Dragon Communion. It's used while disrobed to turn one's human flesh into an ancient dragon. The change cannot be undone except by death."
Nathaniel remained silent.
Gideon's gaze shifted to Nathaniel. "Did you deal with him?"
Nathaniel nodded. "I killed him."
"Good." Gideon's tone was gruff but approving. "This girl was truly cut up like an animal. Now you know, boy, that the Lands Between is not a playground. It's a place of peril, and those who come here must understand the risks involved."
Nathaniel's face tightened, a mix of anger and determination flaring in his eyes. "I get it, Gideon. I'm learning the hard way."
"Make sure you do. The more you understand the dangers, the better you'll be prepared to face them. But remember, the real fight is just beginning."
Nathaniel nodded. "Thanks for the heads-up."
Gideon gave a curt nod before turning to leave. "See to it that you and your companions stay safe. This world is unforgiving to the unprepared."
As Gideon exited, Nathaniel's thoughts turned to the power he had witnessed and the cost it had exacted. He understood now, more than ever, the dangers of unchecked power and the importance of staying true to one's humanity. It was a lesson learned through hardship, and one he would carry with him as they moved forward.
Melina's eyes softened as she gazed at Nathaniel, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "Why dost thou care for me so deeply, Nathaniel? I hath not treated thee as a friend."
Nathaniel's expression was earnest. "Are you kidding me? Your life is precious. I couldn't lose you."
Melina's heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't help but think, 'Precious? No, he's only saying that because he needs me.'
Despite her internal scepticism, she saw the genuine worry in his eyes, and it made her question her own reservations. "Thou truly meanest that, dost thou not?" she asked softly.
Nathaniel nodded, his voice firm. "Absolutely. We've been through a lot together, and it's not just about what you can do for me. I've come to value you, Melina."
Her gaze dropped to the bed, a mixture of confusion and relief in her eyes. "Even if I've been distant, and sometimes harsh?"
Nathaniel reached out, placing a hand gently on hers. "Yeah, even then. Sometimes people show they care in strange ways. But it doesn't change how important you are to me."
Melina's eyes met his again, searching for the truth in his words. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, even if she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "It meaneth more than thou knowest."
Nathaniel gave her a reassuring smile. "Just focus on getting better. We've got a lot more ahead of us, and I need you ready for it."
Melina nodded, her thoughts still swirling, but the warmth of Nathaniel's words provided a small comfort amidst the chaos.
Melina lay quietly in the dimly lit room, her mind racing. 'Precious?' The word echoed in her thoughts, stark and unfamiliar. 'No one has ever said that to me before, except Vyke.'
She closed her eyes, allowing the faint hum of the healing incantations and the distant murmur of voices from the other room to wash over her. Nathaniel's words were still fresh in her mind, their weight pressing heavily on her.
'Vyke...' Her thoughts drifted back to him, the only one who had ever used such a term to describe her. It was a rare, bittersweet memory that reminded her of the bond they had shared.
But now, Nathaniel had spoken those words—an offer of value and care she hadn't expected. It was strange, unsettling, and oddly comforting all at once. Melina had always been wary of forming attachments, of letting her guard down. The world she inhabited demanded strength, not sentiment.
As she lay there, she couldn't ignore the tiny, persistent feeling of gratitude mixed with confusion. Nathaniel's concern had cut through her usual emotional barriers, revealing a side of herself she'd long kept guarded.
'What doth it mean to be "precious" to someone in this world?' she wondered. 'And why doth his concern feel different from what I have known before?'
The room grew quieter, and Melina's thoughts circled back to her current situation. 'I need to focus on recovering. There is still so much to do, so many dangers ahead. But... maybe, just maybe, I can allow myself to believe that there's a place for me in this chaos.'
With a deep breath, Melina shifted slightly, trying to make herself more comfortable. She resolved to push her doubts aside for now and concentrate on healing. She would take Nathaniel's words as they came, and if her feelings grew more complicated, she'd deal with them in due time.