A/N: EDIT: I'm thinking of easing back on Elden Ring Fridays, despite all the hard work Dark and I do, chapters aren't getting much in the way of feedback; not sure if that is due to the site glitches or what have you, regardless, its a real spirit breaker...

...can anyone even see this...? T_T

Here we go, for Upon My Name~! This chapter has multiple POV's, I hope that doesn't offend anyone.

Every review truly does help, large or small, any bit of feedback is better than nothing at all.

Dark, my new Elden Ring Co-writer has been helping me immeasurably with these stories now -hence Elden Ring Fridays- which is a massive help. We're back and this chapter really ramps things up! Looking forward to your feedback! It really means a lot... =D

Can anyone see this? Site glitches are now hiding new chapters. Do let me know!

As ever, I own no references, quotes, themes or memes. They're tributes to legends far greater than little 'ol me.

I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time.

Time and feedback will determine if this remains a story. Simple as that.

In other words...its up to YOU, the reader. Do let me know~!

"SHOW THYSELF!"

~?

Name thy Victory

All the world was silence and smoke.

Nothing moved in the wake of that final cataclysm. A pall of sooty darkness hung over the ruined battlefield, lit only by the dying embers of crimson lightning dancing across upturned stones. High above, even the thunder was stunned into silence. Bits of charred earth and rock pattered down like rain, a sullen testament to the almighty explosion that had come before.

Marika and Florissax narrowed their eyes from their rocky perch, straining to see the victor. The last thing they'd witnessed was Godfrey vanishing in a flood of blinding light, meeting Dragonlord Placidusax's ultimate attack head-on without so much as flinching. Now the question on both dragon and queen's minds hung heavy in the sulfurous air:

Who still stood?

A great shape loomed amid the settling dust. Placidusax's titanic form was slumped in a newly carved crater, patches of his golden scales blasted black. Two of his five necks remained yet intact, the other three ending in ragged, smoking stumps where the Rasenshuriken had sheared them away. One surviving head lolled weakly, the other still raised in defiance, horns splintered and one eye burned blind. The Dragonlord's sides heaved—he was breathing, alive, but the proud king of dragons had clearly been brought low.

Marika hissed in triumph.

Because there across from the fallen dragon, a broad-shouldered figure pushed to his feet. At first he looked little better than a charred statue: blackened armor hanging in shards from his frame, shoulders dusted white with ash. But then he rolled his neck with a crack and inhaled sharply. The motion sent ash billowing off him in clouds, revealing flickers of gold beneath—the faint aura of Erdtree grace intermingled with a ruddy orange glow of chakra coiled around his form.

Godfrey, Hoarah Loux reborn, stood alive in the smoke. A deep burn scored his chest where Placidusax's final beam had struck him full-on , and patches of his skin were angry red from heat... but he stood. And as he took one step, then another, emerging from the darkness, his foxlike grin came into view.

He threw his head back and barked a cough that turned into a laugh. "Hah!" he rasped, shaking soot from his wild hair. "That almost killed me, you bastard!" he called out, voice echoing across the silence in a mix of genuine relief and wry humor. Despite the raw burn on his torso and the seared gash across his battle-worn arms, Godfrey's gait was steady as ever. He flexed one hand, cracking his knuckles. Smoke curled from his muscled form, but his golden eyes danced with adrenaline and triumph. If anything, surviving that onslaught had only stoked the fire in his belly.

"You're going to have to try harder if you really want me dead!" he shouted, half-chuckling.

A triumphant cry rang from above. Queen Marika's silvery voice cut through the haze: a gleeful, near-manic crowing of victory. She leapt down from the obsidian outcropping where she'd watched the battle, landing atop a shattered pillar partway down the field. Her glorious golden hair fanned out behind her, and those usually composed eyes were alight with excitement.

"Yes! Stand tall, my king!" she exulted, unable to contain her delight. "Bask in your triumph!"

To see her consort emerge from what should have been certain death—what a man, what a legend in the making. Pride and hunger warred in her expression; she looked at him as though she wanted nothing more than to bottle this moment and drink it. The darkly elegant queen who normally schemed in silence now whooped like a victorious warrior. Her laughter spilled out, rich and exultant. In this instant, there was no Eternal Queen and Elden Lord—only a woman elated that her lover yet lived and prevailed.

Not far from Marika's perch, Florissax peered through the clearing smoke with slitted, anxious eyes. The dragon-woman's arms were tense at her sides, clawed fingertips digging into her palms. Her earlier confidence had fled; where she had once worn smug certainty, now her face was tight with concern for her lord. The instant she spotted the Dragonlord's grievous state—three heads gone, golden blood pooling in the crater—a low hiss escaped her throat.

Yet her hope was not extinguished, not. "My dragonlord still draws breath," Florissax murmured fiercely, as much to herself as to Marika. She straightened to her full height, refusing to accept defeat. "He can still prevail. This battle isn't over."

Even so, a tremor belied her voice. Placidusax yet lived, yes, but for how long?

Below, Godfrey-Naruto!- cracked his neck and strode forward, smoke curling around his ankles. His great stone axe lay embedded somewhere in the distant rubble, but he didn't bother retrieving it. The Elden Lord no longer needed a weapon. Not for what came next. Each step he took was confident, almost casual, yet the cratered ground shuddered under his bootfalls. The very air around him seemed to hum, charged by the clash of gods that had preceded. His shadow stretched toward Placidusax's fallen bulk as he closed the distance.

And yet the Dragonlord did not concede.

"Round two, eh?" he called out, voice dripping with brash camaraderie. "C'mon then, get up! I know you're tougher than that."

There was genuine respect in his tone, even as he taunted. In Naruto's heart, a familiar warmth flickered: the stubborn desire to acknowledge and be acknowledged by a worthy rival. He had healed this dragon to have a proper fight, and by the gods, he'd gotten one. Now he wouldn't mind keeping the magnificent beast alive—as an ally, if possible.

But first, the Dragonlord had to yield.

Placidusax didn't look like he would; his remaining heads writhed. With a groan like grinding boulders, the ancient dragon pushed up on one colossal foreclaw. Fractured scales fell away from his chest and limbs. The dragon's pride fought against the pain wracking his body. Sparks of red lightning still skittered over his mangled wings and along the lengths of his two surviving necks. He heard his approaching footsteps and forced himself to rise higher, at least onto his haunches.

Even broken and bleeding, the Dragonlord mustered a defiant snarl. Twin pairs of molten gold eyes fixed on the approaching warrior. "You… dare mock me, mortal?" his voice came out in a thunderous rumble, though weaker than before. Smoke hissed between his jagged teeth. "I am not… yet… defeated!"

Good.

Naruto only grinned wider, baring his own teeth in a feral smile. "Attaboy."

He crouched slightly, muscles tensing and uncoiling in a single burst of titanic energy. In a blur of motion belying his massive frame, he lunged. The ground cratered beneath his takeoff. In a heartbeat, he closed the last few dozen yards and leapt up toward the Dragonlord's chest, cocking one fist back. The sudden assault caught Placidusax mid-snarl. One remaining head reared back to unleash flame, but was too slow.

What followed proved brief but ferocious. Godfrey's fist shot forward like a meteor. Placidusax swung a claw with desperate speed; man and dragon collided in a flurry of blows. A swipe of claws screeched against his half-melted breastplate, tearing the last plates away. He responded with an elbow driving into the dragon's scaly elbow joint—a wet crack and the limb buckled. One draconic head lunged, fangs snapping; he ducked under and answered with a devastating uppercut to the underside of the jaw.

The impact boomed like a drum of the gods.

Placidusax's maw snapped shut with a yelp of pain, teeth clacking on his own tongue. Before the dragon could recoil and retaliate, he spun to delivered a titanic punch with his full weight behind it. His fist, wreathed unconsciously in a nimbus of chakra and golden light, slammed into the side of Placidusax's jaw.

An earth-shattering CRACK split the air.

For a split second, time seemed to freeze: Placidusax's enormous body went rigid from the force of that blow. Then the Dragonlord was lifted off his claws, all several tons of him, sent hurtling. The ground shuddered violently as the dragon's bulk crashed down onto his side. A shocked, guttering roar escaped his many throats. The last of the stormfire flickering around him winked out in a shower of golden sparks.

High above, Florissax involuntarily cried out, her voice broke with distress as she watched the Dragonlord collapse in a heap of broken coils and wings.

Marika let out a triumphant holler, raising one fist overhead in savage delight. "Yes!" she howled to the winds, her usually poised face alight with vicious glee; she looked for all the world like a battle-mad valkyrie praising her champion.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

Godfrey exhaled, steam swirling from his lips in the cooling air. The adrenaline of combat still pounded through his veins, but the fight was effectively over. He strode toward Placidusax's fallen form, where the enormous dragon struggled feebly to right himself. One of the Dragonlord's two remaining heads was clearly broken—its jaw hung slack from the mighty uppercut, golden blood dribbling out. The final head, though, still glared at Godfrey with one unyielding eye.

Even now, Placidusax attempted to gather his limbs beneath him, to push up and continue. Godfrey felt a surge of admiration despite himself.

So this is the will of a former Elden Lord, he thought, recalling that Placidusax had indeed been a Lord in the age before the Erdtree. Stubborn old lizard.

Naruto's own stubborn spirit could deeply respect that refusal to submit. But respect or not, he couldn't let the dragon continue—the fight was decided. Godfrey planted his boot on the dragon's neck, right behind the single intact horn of the last head. With a grunt of effort, he stomped down, pinning Placidusax to the ground. The dragon thrashed, his massive tail carving trenches in the ruined field. One of his hind legs kicked out, nearly tossing Godfrey off, but the warrior quickly shifted and stamped harder. He brought his other foot down on the second writhing neck, near the base where it met the dragon's shoulder. In this way, Godfrey Loux pinned the mighty Dragonlord: one boot on each of the two remaining necks, grinding them into the dirt.

Placidusax roared in fury, his deep voice now tinged with raw pain. He heaved, muscles bunching under golden scales, but the strength was leaving his limbs. The wounds and exhaustion of battle had caught up all at once. Godfrey swayed but held, unyielding. He could feel the dragon's hot breath gusting against his greaves as the battered beast panted. Smoke rose from the dragon's shattered maw in weak puffs.

For a heartbeat, it seemed the dragon might surge up again. Tension coiled in the air. Naruto braced, summoning any last dregs of chakra if needed to reinforce his body. Above, Marika watched with narrowed eyes, hand twitching near the golden scepter at her waist in case her consort needed backup. Florissax had gone deathly still, claws digging furrows in the stone underfoot, ready to leap to her lord's aid—or perhaps paralyzed by the sight of him finally at another's mercy.

Placidusax growled, a low rumble of frustration. His tail's thrashing slowed, then stopped. The great dragon's one good eye rolled upward to focus on the human pinning him. What that gaze held was not fear, nor even anger now, but a weary acceptance. Godfrey felt the shift. The Dragonlord's mighty frame slowly relaxed, iron-hard muscles loosening under scales as he released a long, rasping sigh that sent a hot wind across the battlefield.

"…Enough." The word escaped Placidusax in a reverberating groan. Both heads went limp under his boots, one remaining eye squeezing shut in agony and shame. "No more…" The acknowledgment of defeat was bitter, but the ancient dragon forced the words out. "You have bested me, warrior."

Triumph was a heady thing. He took a moment to savor it before proceeding. Surely he'd earned that much.

Naruto's stance remained firm for a moment, caution warring with empathy. Steam drifted around him as the last fires guttered out. Could it be a trick? his instincts, however, sensed the honesty in the dragon's broken voice. He eased the pressure of his boots slightly and feel back into the ruse of Godfrey. "Do you yield, oh Dragonlord?" he asked, voice carrying across the field. Despite his irreverent words earlier, now he spoke with a bemused formality. There was a quiet respect in his tone, a warrior's honor offered to a fallen foe. "Yield, and live to fight another day."

A shudder ran through Placidusax's massive body—perhaps a sob of relief, or just pain. The dragon managed a faint nod of his remaining horned head. "I yield," he rasped, the admission rumbling like distant thunder. "By the ancient laws, I am defeated." Both of his voices, from each damaged throat, spoke in unison now, solemn and heavy. "My life is yours."

High above, Florissax let out a soft whimper of mixed sorrow and relief. Her shoulders sagged as she clutched both arms close to her bossom. The terrible tension gripping the air finally dissolved. Marika's lips curved into a victorious smile; she straightened, already regaining her regal poise now that the outcome was decided.

With that admission, Naruto exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Victory was his—but more importantly, victory without slaughter.

Such was a proper distinction, he felt.

He lifted his boots off the dragon's necks and stepped back. Placidusax did not rise; the enormous wyrm remained lying on his side, wounded and exhausted. His one open eye tracked the movements of "Godfrey" warily. Blood of molten gold dripped slowly from the torn stumps of his three severed necks, pooling in smoking puddles. Even so diminished, the Dragonlord was an awe-inspiring sight—a living relic of a bygone age now bowed by defeat.

Godfrey planted his hands on his hips and looked down at the fallen dragon with a lopsided grin. "You put up one hell of a fight." His chest still heaved from exertion, and every muscle in his body screamed for rest, but Naruto's spirit was soaring. This ancient being had given him the bout of a lifetime. In another world, perhaps they'd have been friends already. "Strongest opponent I've faced in… well, in either of my lives," he added with a chuckle, only half-joking.

Kurama gave a begrudging mental huff of agreement. "Bastard would've given the Ten Tails a run for its money in his prime...

Placidusax huffed smoke from his remaining nostrils.

"Spare me your flattery," he growled, though the edge was gone from his voice. With a pained grunt, the Dragonlord shifted, attempting to draw himself into a more dignified posture. One massive foreleg tucked under him; tattered wings folded as best they could. He managed to raise his body slightly off the ground, like a lion trying to sit upright after being felled. "If you mean to finish it, do so. I will not beg."

Pride still colored those words. The dragon's heads hung low, but he lifted them as high as his strength allowed, exposing his throat—offering a clean target for execution. Even in surrender, Dragonlord Placidusax would maintain some honor.

For a moment, Naruto considered it; he looked at him, golden eyes unblinking. Then, slowly, he shook his head. "No," he said, voice gentle but firm. He reached down to his belt and unhooked a golden flask—a draught of healing Grace. He had only one left; earlier in the duel he hadn't dared pause to use it. Now he uncorked it. "We didn't come here to kill you. We came here to end the war." He took a swallow of the flask himself, hissing as divine relief coursed through his scorched flesh and bruised ribs. With another step closer, he boldly held out the flask toward one of Placidusax's snouts. "Here. This will ease the pain."

Placidusax's remaining good eye widened a fraction as the proud dragon hesitated. He could sense its confusion; no doubt because he continued to surprise him at every turn—first healing him to start a battle, and now offering healing after victory. Slowly, warily, the Dragonlord extended his snout and allowed a few drops of the crimson Tears to drip onto his tongue.

The effect was immediate: some of the lesser burns and gashes along his body began to knit closed. The pain in his splintered jaw eased. Placidusax exhaled a long breath through his nose, a plume of smoke that might have been a sigh of relief. "Your mercy does you credit," he rumbled quietly, dipping his great head in an unmistakable gesture of respect. "Most would not treat a fallen foe with such kindness."

Naruto shrugged a shoulder. "Never been normal/"

At this, Florissax finally moved. The statuesque dragon-woman took wing—azure scales flickering into view across her limbs as she leapt from the cliff. In a blink, she landed in a swirl of wind and rushed to her Dragonlord's side, nearly bowling him over to do so.

"My king," she said, voice breaking as she placed a clawed hand gently against one of his massive foreclaws. Her human guise had partially fallen away: a dragon's tail swayed behind her, and a few scales traced her cheek. She looked up at Placidusax with undisguised concern, then shot a wary, begrudging glance his way. It was the look of a protective retainer, unsure whether to thank or curse the one who'd brought her lord low.

Marika, too, approached now—alighting gracefully near his shoulder. Her eyes flickered from her consort to the two dragons, calculating the turn of events. The Eternal Queen's blood was still singing with battle-fueled exhilaration, but she smoothed her expression back into one of authority.

"Dragonlord Placidusax," she intoned, voice echoing across the ruins. "The Golden Order triumphs this day." There was pride and satisfaction there, but also an undercurrent of demand. The queen's posture was imperious, chin held high. In her hand, she twirled her gilded scepter once before planting its butt against the scorched ground. "Will you honor your ancient promise, dragon? Will you swear fealty now, as was intended?"

Placidusax's gaze shifted to Marika. The great wyrm's lips curled, perhaps remembering how this had all begun—with Marika's ultimatum. A low rumble rolled in his throats. Godfrey tensed slightly, unsure if he needed to keep himself between them, but Placidusax merely gave a slow nod. "Aye… a promise is a promise." He grimaced, a flash of regret passing over his bloodied visage. "Long ago, I swore to find a worthy successor… one who could defeat me, claim the title of Elden Lord, and lead this world." His voice lowered with ancient sorrow. "I waited eons in vain. Until today."

Florissax's eyes glistened; she bowed her head, auburn hair falling forward. She knew the weight of those words. Placidusax had finally found someone worthy.

Placidusax mustered what remained of his dignity. With great effort, the massive dragon bowed his two heads. His voice resonated formal and clear despite the damage. "Before the gods, I, Dragonlord Placidusax, submit. My strength, and the strength of my kin, shall henceforth serve the Golden Order." The ancient dragon closed his eyes, as if a great burden had been lifted—or perhaps replaced by a new one. "This I swear upon my name and eternality."

Godfrey watched the Dragonlord yield with a curious mix of triumph and humility swirling in his chest. This was good. This was right. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a handful of other dragons emerge from the storm-dark sky, circling cautiously above the battlefield. Whether they were spectating lesser dragons or echoes left from Placidusax's conjured storm, it was hard to tell—but as their king bowed, these shapes wheeled and dipped low in acknowledgment. Word would spread swiftly through dragonkind: the war was over. Man and dragon would not spill each other's blood today.

Marika's lips curved in satisfaction. Victory, alliance, submission—all she desired. She stepped forward regally. "Then rise, noble Dragonlord, and be welcome under the Erdtree's aegis." She extended a slender hand. Though Placidusax was far too large to take it, and did not dare resume human form due to his wounds, the gesture signified acceptance all the same. "The Elden Throne recognizes your fealty." erh golden eyes gleamed with self-assured triumph as she proclaimed, "Together, we shall usher in an age of prosperity for all who serve the Golden Order."

Florissax released a breath she had been holding and, swallowing her pride, went to one knee (or as close as her form allowed) beside her lord. "The dragons of Placidusax stand with you," she declared, voice resonant. Though it visibly pained her draconic pride, the loyalty to her liege and his decision was absolute. She cast her gaze downward respectfully. "Queen Marika, Elden Lord Godfrey… You have our allegiance."

Naruto gave an awkward scratch at his cheek, suddenly feeling a bit out of place with all the formal obeisance. Just moments ago he'd been trading body blows and jutsu with this titan; now said titan and his retinue were bowing to him. Naruto Uzumaki had never been one to stand on ceremony. Yet, he felt a swelling warmth in his chest—a quiet joy that he had not only bested a worthy foe, but also gained a friend (or at least not an enemy). He stepped forward and placed a firm hand on one of Placidusax's massive horns, prompting the dragon to lift his heads.

"None of that. We're allies now," he said, a friendly grin softening his otherwise fearsome visage. "I didn't spare you just to have you groveling. Stand proud—Dragonlord." He chuckled. "If anyone asks, I'll just say I humbled you a little."

Placidusax gave a rasping sound that might have been a chuckle of his own. Slowly, laboriously, he heaved himself more upright. Though he could not stand fully (the pain of his wounds was still too great), he managed to coil into a dignified crouch. "Humbled indeed," he rumbled, shaking his great head. "You are an unusual man, Godfrey. Both brutal and merciful." The dragon's tone carried something almost like admiration. "Had all your kind possessed such spirit in ages past, things might have been different." He glanced to Marika, who was watching the exchange with one elegant eyebrow arched. "As it stands, I will keep my oath. When you call, the dragons will answer."

Marika inclined her head graciously. "We shall hold you to that, mighty Placidusax." The queen then shot her consort a quick, meaningful look. "We will send envoys to formalize terms. For now, go and tend your wounds." There was a subtle urgency in her voice now, as if suddenly aware of other matters. Indeed, the alliance secured, Marika's sharp mind was already moving on—to the next pressing issue in her grand design.

Godfrey nodded in agreement. He patted Placidusax's horn one more time and stepped back to Marika's side. "Thank you," he said earnestly to both dragons. "Truly." He meant it with all his big heart. Then he let out a long breath and rolled his shoulders. The adrenaline was ebbing; a bone-deep fatigue threatened to set in. Gods, he could sleep for a week.

But first, they needed to return to Leyndell and inform the nobility and troops that the conflict was resolved. And maybe find a bucket of water—Naruto belatedly realized his eyebrows were singed off, and he probably looked like a half-cooked piece of meat. A rueful grin tugged at his lips.

Marika had already turned on her heel, golden cape swirling behind her, eager to depart. "Come, my king," she said briskly. "Leyndell awaits our triumphant return." Her eyes flickered once more to Florissax and Placidusax. "We shall see you soon—under better circumstances."

With that, the Eternal Queen summoned a small portal of crackling golden magic in the air with a wave of her hand. Clearly, she was not inclined to travel on foot after such a battle; the urgency in her movements suggested she wanted to be back at the capital immediately. Godfrey shot one last look at the Dragonlord and his knight, nodding farewell, and stepped through the portal after Marika.

Florissax watched as the shimmering portal blinked out, carrying the victors away. She then turned to Placidusax, relief evident in her draconic features.

Gently, she began to tend to her lord's wounds, golden blood staining her clawed hands.

The war was ended, their lives spared.

They would live to see a new dawn—and perhaps, a new age under these unlikely human sovereigns.

(.0.0.0.)

Leyndell, the Royal Capital, usually greeted its returning champions with fanfare and celebration; a proper feast worthy of their statue.

But as Naruto and Marika emerged from a stream of golden light onto the city's grand plaza, they found only chaos. Twilight had fallen over Leyndell's majestic spires, and in the gathering dusk, the royal couple was met not by cheering crowds, but by the clamor of clashing steel and the panicked cries of guardsmen.

He reacted instantly. Fatigue forgotten, he stepped protectively in front of Marika, broad shoulders squared. The plaza that stretched before the Erdtree's shadow was in disarray. Scattered weapons and broken halberds littered the polished marble tiles. Several royal guards in their gleaming golden armor were groaning on the ground, struggling to rise after being viciously thrown against walls and pillars. One knight lay embedded in a heap of splintered wooden market stalls, moaning about his ribs. It looked as though a whirlwind had torn through the royal defenses.

"What in blazes—?" Naruto muttered, eyes darting. His battle-honed senses caught sight of a figure at the far end of the plaza, near the base of the Erdtree's monumental trunk where the palace steps began.

There.

Amid a knot of wary guards, an armored warrior moved with terrifying purpose, tossing aside Leyndell soldiers as if they were training dummies. Godfrey could hardly believe his eyes as he watched a full-grown knight get lifted one-handed by this stranger and hurled clear across the courtyard, clattering to the stones. Another rushed in with a spear; the intruder sidestepped with fluid grace and sent the poor fellow sprawling with a backhanded blow from a heavy gauntlet. The strength and speed on display were inhuman.

Marika's eyes widened at the spectacle, and a flash of recognition—followed by horror—crossed her face. "No… it cannot be," she whispered. Her sudden fear was palpable. The queen who had moments ago been exultant and confident now went rigid at Godfrey's side, as if she'd seen a ghost.

Godfrey's golden gaze narrowed, trying to discern details of the rampaging figure. The intruder was clad in ornate armor of deep azure and silver that glinted under the faint light of the Erdtree above. A flowing cloak, dark as a midnight sky, whipped behind them. The armor's design was unfamiliar to him, marked with an emblem of twin moons—one full and one new—etched in white on the breastplate. A closed helm concealed the face, shaped like a snarling wolf with two moon-shaped crests. From within that wolfish helm came a voice echoing with fury.

"GODFREY!" the armored knight bellowed, throwing another hapless guard to the ground. The sound of that shout froze Godfrey's blood for an instant; it was laden with anguish and wrath. "Defiler of mine sister! Show yourself!" The enraged cry reverberated off Leyndell's golden walls. Any remaining citizens in the vicinity scattered, slamming doors and peering from shuttered windows in terror.

He felt a jolt of confusion so strong it nearly left him dizzy. Defiler of… sister? What was this lunatic talking about? He glanced aside at Marika, seeking some explanation. Her reaction alarmed him further: Marika had gone pale, her eyes wide and lips parted in shock. He could see the pulse fluttering in her throat. The queen's momentary fear was quickly smothered by an expression of cold calculation as she stepped back into the shadow of a column. But Godfrey had caught that first look of raw panic.

Whoever this knight was, Marika knew them.

"Marika…" He asked under his breath, keeping his voice low as he positioned himself slightly in front of her. "Who is that?" His instincts as Naruto screamed to get answers before rushing in. Something about "defiler of my sister" made his stomach turn uncomfortably—what misunderstanding or lie was at play here? While he had fought Rennala at Raya Lucaria, he certainly hadn't defiled anyone's sister (he'd been busy fighting dragons, thank you very much). But the way this knight hurled the accusation with such conviction, it was clear they believed it.

H eneeded clarity.

Marika did not immediately answer. The knight's rampage continued across the plaza below; with a sweeping gesture, the intruder summoned a burst of pale blue sorcery that blasted back a ring of advancing guards. The Twin Moon sigil on their armor flared with magic. Clearly, this was no mere swordsman but a knight equally adept in combat and spell.

He watched in grudging respect as a swirl of frosty mist coalesced around the knight's gauntlet, forming an ethereal blade of moonlight. One guard brave (or foolish) enough charged with a halberd—only for the moonlit blade to slice the weapon's shaft in two with a single stroke. A follow-up kick sent the guard flying.

This knight is on par with a Demigod, he thought. And that voice… it sounded feminine beneath the rage.

"Twin Moon… by the Erdtree, it's Rellana," Marika finally hissed under her breath, confirming Godfrey's suspicion that the assailant was a woman knight. She pressed back against the marble column as if wishing to melt into it. In that moment, the ever-poised Eternal Queen looked almost like a cornered animal. "Why now?" she breathed, a tremor in her voice. "Of all times, she appears now?"

Godfrey caught the name. "Rellana?" he echoed, puzzled. The name was rather similar to Rennala, almost eerily. Below, the knight—Rellana—continued to stomp forward, knocking aside the last few defenders between her and the base of the palace stairs. There was something oddly familiar in the way she carried herself, but Godfrey couldn't place it. "Who's that? What is she doing here…?"

Marika's blood was running cold in her veins . Her mind churned, frantically analyzing the ramifications.

She's here. She knows. She must know; why else would she be here?

The Twin Moon Knight's presence could only mean one terrible thing: Marika's past had come calling. A past she had carefully buried long before meeting Godfrey and founding their new Golden Order. Marika felt a swooping sensation of dread in her stomach. This couldn't be happening. Not after all her perfect plans, the happy new life she'd built for herself, free of her past…!

She risked a glance around the column at the raging knight below. Rellana stood amid a ring of unconscious guards, chest heaving, wolf-helm scanning the upper terraces for any sign of her targets. "Godfrey! Queen Marika!" Rellana's voice cracked with grief and fury.

"Face me, cowards!" she howled. "For Rellana of the Twin Moon calls thee to account!" Her declaration rang with knightly formality even through the anger. She drew that ethereal moonblade across the stone, leaving a trail of shimmering frost, as if challenging anyone to come forward.

Godfrey felt a pang of protective concern seeing the usually indomitable Marika so shaken. He gently touched her arm. "Do you know this woman?" he asked quietly, urgently.

Marika's eyes flicked to him, then back to the scene below. She swallowed, her throat painfully dry. "I… may be acquainted with her," she managed, affecting a tone of mild disdain, but it emerged decidedly strained. He didn't miss how she evaded a straight answer. His brow furrowed.

Down in the plaza, Rellana's patience was fraying. Not seeing Marika or Godfrey present, the knight let out a frustrated scream and thrust a gauntleted hand toward the massive double doors of the Erdtree sanctum—the entrance to the royal palace. With a flash of azure light, she blasted them open, sending the intricately carved doors slamming against the interior walls. Golden candlesticks and vases inside toppled from the impact with a distant crash. The path to the palace lay bare. Rellana began to march inside, but paused on the threshold. She tilted her head up, as if sniffing the air for her quarry.

Then that fearsome helm lifted, and Rellana bellowed anew: "MOTHER OF MESSMER! SHOW THYSELF! NOW!" Her voice was raw with emotion, echoing through the royal corridors beyond the open doors. The phrase made little sense to Godfrey, but clearly it hit its mark—he felt Marika flinch beside him as if struck.

Marika's nails bit into her palms. Messmer. The very name was a dagger of memory and shame. At hearing it spoken aloud in her capital, in front of Godfrey, her carefully crafted composure wavered on the brink of collapse. The source of her shame, the one thing she prayed to never face again, was now thrown at her doorstep . Marika's heart pounded a frantic drumbeat.

He mustn't find out… mustn't find out…mustn't...

The words ran through her head like a mantra.

Godfrey mustn't find out about her failure, the secret scandal she'd buried. She had to contain this, now, before Rellana revealed too much .

Godfrey was reeling. Mother of Messmer? His mind raced. Messmer… The name tugged at something in his memory—had he heard it before? Perhaps in whispers among the knights, or in passing from Marika? He couldn't place it. But judging by Marika's reaction, it was deeply important. He looked from the stricken queen to the enraged knight below and felt utterly at a loss.

"Who is Messmer?" he asked, the confusion plain in his voice.

Mustn't tell him. He won't understand. No one can.

That simple question broke something in Marika's resolve. The idea of explaining… of confessing the truth of Messmer to Godfrey right here, right now, was unthinkable. Marika's eyes flashed with a sudden decision — a terrible resolve. If Rellana was here for blood, then blood she would have. But it would be Rellana's, not hers, and not Godfrey's.

Marika snarled under her breath, slipping fully into the ancient cadence of her fury. Enough was enough. She would not let this mad knight ruin everything. If silencing Rellana was the only way to keep her past sins buried, then by the cosmos, she would do it without hesitation. Godfrey felt the air crackle around Marika as golden light, the power of her divinity, coursed up from her clenched fists.

Before he could utter another word, Marika stepped out from behind the pillar, regal fury emanating from her in palpable waves. She glanced his way with a tight, apologetic smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Excuse me, mine consort," she said, voice cold and polite in a way that sent a shiver up Godfrey's spine. "I need to commit a murder."

Godfrey's mouth fell open in surprise, and he barely managed to sputter, "Marika, wait—!" as the Queen of the Golden Order launched herself off the balcony with a single powerful stride. She dropped toward the plaza like a golden comet, her radiance illuminating the gloom.

Rellana looked up just in time to see a burning gold figure descending upon her. The Eternal Queen landed before the Twin Moon Knight in a shockwave of light, knees bent, fist striking the ground and cracking the marble at her feet. The impact sent a gust of wind that fluttered Rellana's cloak and snuffed out the lingering frosty mist around them. Marika rose slowly from her three-point landing, incandescent wrath in her eyes.

"You dare bring this madness to my city?" Marika's voice was eerily calm, but underlain with lethal intent. Her entire form glowed with the subtle aura of an Empyrean goddess. Dust swirled around her like planets caught in a gravity well. Rellana recoiled a half-step at the sudden appearance, then steadied, raising her moonlit blade.

"Queen Marika," Rellana spat the title like a curse. Through the wolf-helm, her voice trembled with rage. "You know why I am here. What you have wrought will not be hidden!" She pointed the blade accusingly. "I'll have justice for Messmer and my sister, or I'll have your head!"

Up on the balcony, Godfrey hesitated only an instant before vaulting over the side himself, determined to not let Marika face this threat alone—especially not in her current state of mind. He landed a few paces behind Marika with a thud, less flashy but solid, his boots grinding on stone. As he straightened, his tall frame looming, he tried to project calm he didn't entirely feel. "Enough!" he thundered, stepping forward between the two women. "Nobody's defiling anybody. Let's all calm down and talk—"

But the vengeful knight would not be soothed. The moment Rellana saw Godfrey up close, something seemed to snap. "You…" she whispered venomously, recognizing him by his golden hair and mighty stature. "Barbarian from the Badlands! Godfrey!" The way she said his name dripped with disgust. "You wear the face of a hero, yet you're naught but a fiend!" Before he could even protest, Rellana surged forward with a cry, her enchanted blade arcing toward his neck. "DIE!"

Marika moved with blinding speed, intercepting the strike with her golden scepter. The clash of moonlit steel on holy alloy sent sparks of blue and gold scattering. Godfrey staggered back, shocked at the sheer ferocity aimed at him. He raised his hands defensively, unwilling to draw a weapon on a woman he still didn't understand the reason for fighting. "What is this about?!" he growled, feeling frustration boil. "What do you think I've done?"

Rellana pushed against Marika's block, eyes never leaving Godfrey. "You defiled her!" she snarled through what sounded like tears. "My twin! My own flesh and blood! You destroyed her life, took everything from her, even her very mind" The agony in the knight's voice rang true and deep. "And you," she seethed, now directing her fury at Marika, "stood by and let it happen, Mother of Messmer." She practically howled that epithet again, each word a dagger. "You couldn't let her rule in peace, could you? Thou had to act; just as ye did with Messmer!"

Godfrey's mind whirled. Mother of Messmer? Marika? Messmer's mother—Marika's child? He looked to Marika in astonishment. Her face was a stony mask, but her eyes… Her eyes showed a flicker of something like regret and sorrow at Rellana's words, quickly buried under anger.

A horrible realization began to dawn in Godfrey's head. Could it be true? Could Marika have a child named Messmer? And something terrible had happened involving him? But when—how? He had no memory of meeting anyone by that name.

What was he missing here...?

He opened his mouth to press for answers, but Marika suddenly shoved him back with her free hand.

"Stay out of this," she ordered, not unkindly but with absolute authority. The brief distraction cost her; Rellana took advantage of Marika's split focus and slammed a mailed boot into the queen's abdomen. Marika gasped, more in surprise than pain, and skidded back a foot. Rellana advanced, blade raised for another strike.

Naruto felt his gaze narrow. This was spiraling fast. He needn't pretend as Godfrey; he felt a flash of protective fury—no one hurt his queen, whatever the situation. He moved to flank Rellana, raising his fists. "Lady, I don't know what your grievance is, but if you touch her again—" he warned.

"Silence, cur!" Rellana snapped, whirling to keep both Marika and Godfrey in view. "I did not come for words. I came for vengeance!"

Marika's face twisted with impatience and mounting wrath. Enough talk indeed. She thrust out her scepter, and from the tip shot a searing bolt of golden magic. Rellana reacted instantly, conjuring a crescent of shimmering moonlight in the air as a shield. Marika's holy bolt splashed against the moon barrier in a crackling explosion, disintegrating several of the plaza's flagstones.

Shielding his eyes from the magical flare, Godfrey could only curse under his breath. So much for a peaceful resolution. The time for diplomacy was likely over—the time for survival had begun. As Rellana and Marika clashed, the air filled with sparks and shards of ice, Godfrey knew he had to do something. But what? He was still in the dark about the true nature of this grievance.

"Tch… not good," Kurama's low growl resonated in his mind. For once, the nine-tailed fox sounded as perplexed as Naruto. "Your queen's emotions are all over the place, and this knight's out for blood. We're missing a piece of the puzzle, kid."

No kidding! Naruto thought back. He squared his shoulders, determination settling in. Whatever this was about, it looked personal—and lethal. He couldn't allow Marika to murder this Rellana out of hand, nor could he let Rellana harm Marika. If necessary, he'd knock some sense into this knight and tie her up until she cooled down. Maybe then they could sort out truth from lies.

Down in the courtyard, Marika launched a flurry of attacks, golden light lancing from her palms and scepter in quick succession. Rellana weaved through them with uncanny grace, the twin moon sigil on her breastplate blazing as she drew upon deep wells of magic. One bolt grazed her shoulder, charring the pauldron, but she retaliated with a sweeping slash of her moonblade that released a wave of cold energy. A frigid wind slammed into Marika, coating the queen's arm in hoarfrost and drawing a snarl of annoyance from her lips.

Godfrey took a step forward, preparing to join the fray, but suddenly a chorus of shouts echoed from behind him. Reinforcements. Royal guards—dozens of them—came pouring into the plaza now that the initial onslaught had been survived. They must have rallied when they saw their Queen and Elden Lord arrive. Godfrey saw the dragon standard of the Banished Knights among them, as well as Leyndell soldiers and even a couple of colossal gargoyle sentinels stomping closer. They began to encircle Rellana cautiously, weapons drawn, waiting for an opening.

"Stand down, all of you!" Marika's commanding voice rang out, halting the soldiers in their tracks. Her eyes never left Rellana, but she addressed her troops sharply: "This knight is mine to deal with."

The guards hesitated. Godfrey added in a carrying growl, "Do as your Queen commands." Though every instinct made him want to accept their help and overwhelm Rellana by sheer numbers, he understood Marika's reasoning. This was a private matter—and if what Rellana said held any kernel of truth, involving others might spread knowledge of something Marika desperately wanted silenced.

The ring of soldiers held position but did not advance further. They created a broad circle around the combatants, shields raised to prevent any stray blasts from hitting bystanders, but otherwise obeyed.

Rellana barked a harsh laugh. "Hiding behind your guards and consort, Marika? Afraid to face me properly?" She spat on the ground, the glob freezing solid upon contact. "Some Eternal you are."

Marika's temper finally boiled over. With a wordless cry, she flung aside her scepter—letting it clatter to the stones—and summoned a shining hammer of golden light in her right hand. In her left, a mirror-image hammer of cold obsidian materialized, crackling with dark energy—the twin aspects of her soul, both Golden Order and the forbidden Destined Death she once harbored. Godfrey's eyes widened; he had rarely seen her call upon that second power. It meant she was deadly serious.

The Twin Moon Knight seemed to recognize the threat as well. Rellana's stance shifted, and with a swift motion she drew a second weapon from her belt—a curved dagger etched with runes, which ignited with pale lunar flame. Now armed with both her Moonlight greatblade and the dagger, she answered Marika's dual-wielding with her own.

For a heartbeat, the two women faced each other in taut silence, powers crackling around them, the very air trembling. Godfrey, standing just behind Marika's shoulder, could feel the heat of her golden hammer and the chill of her black one, a bipolar tempest of power swirling around his wife. This is about to get very ugly, he realized. His muscles coiled, ready to intervene at the slightest opening.

Before the storm of their clash could break, Godfrey tried once more to reach the humanity in the maddened knight. "Rellana, wait!" he called out, voice strong and earnest. "If Marika wronged your sister, I swear I didn't know. Whatever happened, we can make it right. But not if you tear each other apart!" There was genuine plea in his tone, his endless empathy, that need to understand and fix the pain in others, surged up despite the insanity of the moment.

For a fraction of a second, Rellana's helmeted gaze flickered toward him. Through the narrow visor slits, Godfrey thought he saw a glint of moisture—tears? Her fists tightened on her weapons. "You… know nothing," she said hoarsely, the fury in her voice undercut by a profound sorrow. "You can't make it right. You defiled her!"

His jaw clicked open. "I beg your pardon...?"

He'd done no such thing!

Rellana's shoulders shook. "And the ones responsible stand before me, feigning ignorance and pity." Her grief transmuted back into rage like steel hardening in a forge. "I'll never forgive! Only their lives will suffice!"

With that, Rellana lunged, and Marika met her halfway. Hammer clashed with blade, golden sparks and blue embers exploding outward. A collective gasp sounded from the encircling soldiers as the two warriors became a blur of violent motion. The courtyard rang with the impact of each blow—clang, boom, crash—each powerful enough to sunder stone.

Godfrey moved in tandem, trying to outflank Rellana. He threw a testing jab toward her side when she was occupied parrying Marika's onslaught. Rellana twisted with uncanny agility, letting his punch glance off her spaulder, and retaliated with a slash of her dagger toward his face. He jerked back—too slow. The dagger's lunar flame seared a line across his cheek, drawing blood and a startled grunt from him. She was fighting them both at once, like a cornered tiger striking at two hunters.

Marika, seeing Godfrey wounded even by a scratch, saw red. With a furious chant, she crossed her radiant hammer and dark hammer together. "Fall kneeling, insolent wretch!" she cried, releasing a shockwave of gravity magic from the combined hammers. The invisible force hit Rellana like a collapsing star—her knees buckled, armor screeching as a colossal weight bore down. The Twin Moon Knight crashed to one knee, briefly pinned by the spell.

Gritting her teeth, Rellana defied even that magic. With a raw scream, she channeled a surge of azure energy from within, negating the gravity field enough to force herself upright inch by inch. Her armor crackled, the twin moon emblem blazing bright. The ground beneath her splintered under the opposing forces. She was still rising, refusing to bend.

Godfrey realized with awe and dismay that Rellana's willpower matched any he'd seen—Naruto knew the look of someone who would die before yielding. And Marika… well, Marika was much the same. If this continued, one of them would die here on this courtyard. That was unacceptable. Think!

He quickly formed a shadow clone behind a pillar out of sight, a trickle of chakra he could afford even in this state, and had it begin building a jutsu—just in case. Meanwhile, he decided it was time to stop holding back physically. If he could subdue Rellana by force, perhaps he could save both women from an irreversible catastrophe. His muscles bulged as he drew further on his untapped power angry red veins scrawling across his skin—Hoarah Loux's primal strength.

From there he went a step further, using not his ax, but an old favorite jutsu.

With a roar, he rushed in from Rellana's flank at breathtaking speed, Rasengan in hand.

Rellana paused, but only briefly.

"Rrahh!"

He swung it at Rellana's sword arm the moment she broke free of the gravity bind. His jutsu caught her forearm with bone-jarring force, mangling the limb. The moonblade wavered, its tip dipping. In the same breath, Marika darted forward from the opposite side, golden hammer arcing down toward Rellana's helm. It was a perfectly coordinated maneuver, honed by countless battles fought side by side: Godfrey creating an opening, Marika delivering the finisher.

Time seemed to slow. Rellana, dazed by the duel forces and the savage blow to her arm, looked up just as Marika's weapon descended. Even through the wolfish mask, Godfrey could see her eyes widen, a flash of fear or perhaps regret.

And then, in an instant, everything halted.

"ENOUGH!"

A voice boomed across the plaza like a divine command. It wasn't Godfrey's, nor Marika's, nor Rellana's. It came from everywhere at once, resonant and impossibly loud. The very air trembled. Godfrey felt the hairs on his neck rise; Marika's hammer stopped mid-swing; Rellana staggered back, stunned. The golden light of the Erdtree overhead pulsed unexpectedly, casting dancing shadows.

All eyes turned upward toward the source of that voice. There, hovering above the plaza, was a glowing apparition—a tall, armored figure wreathed in gentle blue light, with two great spectral wings unfurled from its back. In its hand was a staff topped with a crescent moon. An echo of grace and sorrow emanated from the phantom. Gasps rose from the soldiers; a few dropped to their knees in reverence or fear.

Rellana lowered her weapons, her whole frame quivering. "Sister…?" she choked out, voice small and disbelieving behind her helm.

Marika took a step backward, eyes wide in outright shock. "Oh, dear...

The phantom's face was obscured by a silvery helm and flowing veils, but when it spoke, the voice was unmistakably that of a gentle woman. "Rellana," sighed the figure, "please… no more." The words echoed softly, yet everyone heard them as clearly as if whispered in their ear. "This path only leads to ruin."

Godfrey's breath caught in his chest, and not entirely from confusion.

He knew that voice. "Rennala?"

The phantom glanced his way and sputtered, hurriedly averting her gaze.

He wondered why...

Rellana, meanwhile fell to her knees, dropping her weapons with a clatter. Her gauntlets reached up to grasp at the edges of her helmet. With a sharp motion, she removed it and cast it aside. A tumble of midnight-blue hair spilled out. By the flickering torchlight around the plaza, Godfrey could see her face at last—tear-streaked, beautiful and fierce, with eyes like two full moons, one silver and one blue. Those eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed up at the ghostly figure.

"Renalla…?" Her voice cracked, all the wrath bleeding out to reveal raw hurt. She looked like a lost child in that moment, kneeling with arms limp at her sides. "I thought… I thought you—!"

"You were mistaken." the spectral woman only shook her veiled head slowly. "I am quite alright. What you see here before you is merely an astral projection, a means by which I might speak to you despite the distance, My time here is short." She turned towards Marika, who stood rigid, still dual-wielding hammers that now flickered uncertainly. "And you...you are not entirely blameless in this, either.

Marika flinched as if stabbed. Pain twisted her regal features. For once, the ever-composed queen was speechless, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I know not of what you speak."

"Yes, you do, Mother of Messmer. But that is a matter for another time.…"

Naruto's heart pounded in quiet confusion. Again with this mention of Messmer! Who—? How—when—? A thousand questions flooded him, but he kept silent, sensing this moment transcended his need to know. It was a moment of truth for the three of them evidently—for Marika, Rellana, and Rennala herself.

And then the spectral apparition of the queen herself pivoted to face him. Away went her helm, revealing her face in all its pale glory.

"It has been some time since we last spoke. You are in good health, I trust?'" she touched a hand to his cheek, startling him.

His breath caught. "I am...

"Good." Her spectral form drifted closer. "I am gladdened by it. Now, then...sister."

Oh, dear. She sounded angry.

Rellana froze, body locking up her her spectral sister's stare; she shook her head fiercely, tears flying. "Sister, I failed you," she sobbed. "I should have protected you from the beginning! I should have been there to fight beside you—"

"Hush, dear sister." Rennala descended until her glowing feet nearly touched the ground before her twin. "You speak of me as though I were wrestled to he ground slain. Rest assured, I am most happy with my choice."

"Your choice...?"

Naruto tilted his head. What was she on about?

Marika made a painfully bemused noise in the background.

Rennala reached out a hand, and Rellana leaned into the phantom touch, sobbing quietly as the ghostly fingers brushed her hair. "Dost thou understand now, my sister?" Thou hast made quite the fool of thineself...

"But I wasn't wrong about her!"

"Perhaps. But vengeance will not bring me peace. Only understanding can." She glanced meaningfully between Rellana and Marika. "Understanding, and forgiveness."

Marika at last dispelled her conjured weapons, the hammers of light and dark dissipating from her hands. She took an unsteady step back, tears spilling freely now from her golden eyes. Her voice came out as a broken whisper. "I did not willingly choose what befell him...

Rennala shushed her.

The queen's twin clawed at her. "Sister, can you ever forgive—"

"You are young. There is naught to forgive." But even as she spoke, Rennala's spectral form began to flicker. The celestial wings dimmed. The phantom gently cupped Rellana's face once more. "My time wanes. Please, Rellana… let go of your hate. Live, love, and remember Messmer without pain. He would not wish this of you."

Her form began to slowly unravel into motes of light.

Rellana cried out, trying to hold on to the fading image. "No! Don't leave—please!" The knight's fierce strength was useless here; her hands passed through empty air as Rennala drifted back.

"Silly girl. I am not leaving. Thou may seeketh me out in the academy...once you have atoned for your transgressions here."

Her starry gaze swept back to him, them.

"Might I write to you once more, my lord? Raya Lucaria consumes much of my time, and I find myself lonely."

Godfrey gulped despite himself. Her gaze shy, but longing. "I suppose...?"

She wriggled a little in place. "I wouldn't mind a visit, either...

His brow shot up into his hair.

"I'll get on that...

"Excellent." Rennala's final gaze turned to Marika, who had fallen to her knees, weeping silently. "Marika," she intoned her name solemnly. and there was such longing and sorrow in that single word that all present felt their hearts ache. "Take care not to repeat your mistakes. It would be a shame to see you fall again. Until our next meeting.

Her outline grew indistinct.

"Be at peace."

With that parting benediction, the astral projection dissolved, the azure light rising like fireflies toward the Erdtree until it was gone.

Silence reclaimed the plaza, broken only by Rellana's quiet sobs into the floor.

"Foolishness," she muttered under her breath, "I'm such a fool...why did I ever listen to him?"

Him...?

Was Radagon making trouble again?

If he was responsible for this madness, he'd taste his axe.

Belatedly, Naruto realized he had been holding his breath. He let it out shakily. Around them, the ring of soldiers stood awestruck and uncertain. None dared move or speak after witnessing such a miracle. The tension of battle had evaporated, replaced by a suffocating melancholy.

For a long moment, the three at the center did not move: Rellana kneeling where the ghost vanished, Marika kneeling a short distance away, and Godfrey standing guard between them, unsure what to do or say in this delicate and heart-rending tableau. The brash warrior who moments ago fought a dragon felt profoundly out of his depth in the face of this family tragedy laid bare.

Finally, Rellana wiped her face with a gauntlet, smearing tears across the steel. She rose unsteadily to her feet, retrieving her fallen helmet. The fight had completely left her. When she looked at Marika now, it was with an expression of deep grief and fatigue, not wrath. The queen met her gaze, guilt and love and regret swirling in her eyes.

"This… isn't over," Rellana murmured hoarsely, voice thick. The words held no threat now, only a sad truth. There were things yet to be said, wounds that could not be healed in an instant. She turned that dual-colored gaze to Godfrey, and some of the earlier fire returned, though tempered. "We will speak again—of Messmer, and of the past. When I am… calmer." She sheathed her dagger and dispelled her moon-sword, its glow fading.

Naruto gave a slow nod, relief and concern mingling in his heart. "We will," he agreed softly. He glanced to Marika, who was trembling as she attempted to compose herself, wiping tears with the back of her hand. Godfrey longed to go to her, to hold her—so many secrets, he thought, so much pain.

But Rellana had to be handled first.

The Twin Moon Knight took a step back, sliding her dented helmet back over her head with a decisive click. Facing the silent ring of guards, she drew herself up and spoke clearly, if wearily: "I am Rellana of Caria, the Twin Moon Knight. I claim the protections of parley."

Under the ancient chivalric code, this meant she wished to leave without further violence, promising the same in return.

The guards glanced uncertainly to their Elden Lord and Queen.

Godfrey immediately raised a hand in signal. "Let her pass." His deep voice brooked no argument.

The soldiers parted, though many cast curious or wary looks. Rellana began to walk toward the open city gate, her steps heavy. As she passed Godfrey, she paused and said quietly from behind her visor, "We will finish our conversation, Elden Lord. For now… take care of her." She nodded faintly toward Marika.

Without waiting for a response, Rellana continued on, leaving the plaza and disappearing into the darkness beyond, a lone knight with a shattered heart.

A profound stillness lingered. Godfrey stood watching after her until she was gone, then immediately rushed to Marika's side. The queen had one hand braced on the ground, the other pressed against her breast as she gulped in ragged breaths. The sight of her tears tore at him—Marika never showed such vulnerability. Gently, Godfrey knelt and placed an arm around her shaking shoulders.

"Marika…?" he whispered.

She leaned into him, eyes shut tight. For a moment, she allowed herself to be held. Perhaps it was only because no one but Godfrey was close enough to witness; the guards respectfully kept their distance, and many had turned away to give their sovereigns a semblance of privacy.

In a small, choked voice Marika asked, "Do you hate me now?" The question was so quiet he almost missed it.

Godfrey's throat tightened. He understood now—she thought her terrible secret would make him turn away. He gently tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. Her beautiful face was stained with tears, her pride and composure in shambles. And yet, to him, she had never looked more human. More real.

"Never," he said, golden eyes earnest and tender. With callused fingers, he brushed a wet strand of hair from her cheek. "We all have our pasts, Marika. Our sins. I'm not going anywhere." His lips quirked in a faint, sad smile. "You're stuck with me, remember? Even if you eventually tell me yours, it won't shake me."

A shaky laugh bubbled from her lips at his attempt at humor. She managed a small smile in return, though tears still glistened. "You absurd man," she whispered affectionately. Relief flooded her voice, and she closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to his. For a heartbeat, the weight of the world was forgotten and it was just Naruto and Marika, two souls clinging to each other amidst the swirling chaos of fate. "...perhaps I will tell you one day. Just not today. 'Tis not a tale I'm proud of...

He half-expected Radagon to rock up and use the opportunity to drive a rift between them, but no, Marika's other half remained absent.

Suspiciously so.

Surely Orin hadn't been able to keep him occupied that long...?

Concerning, but ultimately not his problem right now.

He had other concerns.

Shaking his head, he cast a glance for his surroundings; all around them, the Golden Capital stood battered but intact. The guards began dispersing to attend to the wounded and secure the area, casting curious glances but wisely holding their tongues. The night air was cool and carried the scent of ozone and embers from distant torches. Overhead, the stars emerged, twin moons rising—one silver, one a darker hue—twin beacons in the sky as if reflecting the fate of two sisters and the reconciliation to come.

Naruto helped Marika to her feet. She straightened, regaining a bit of her regal posture, though she kept a hold on his arm as if afraid to let go. There was much to discuss—explanations to be given, apologies to be made. But not here, not now. Now was the time to tend to immediate matters and retreat to the solace of their chambers where truths could be unveiled in privacy.

"Captain," he called to a nearby knight, his voice steady and authoritative once more, "see that the wounded are cared for. And… spread word quietly that the situation is handled. No need for rumors to spiral out of control tonight.

The knight saluted. ""At once, Your Grace."

Marika cleared her throat, mastering herself with visible effort. Her mask of queenly control slid back into place, though faint cracks remained. "And send word to the Carian estate," she added softly, referring to the domain of Rennala's family, where Rellana likely hailed from. "Inform them that Lady Rellana is to be treated as an honored guest henceforth, under the crown's protection." It was the least she could do now—and a signal of her intentions to make amends.

The captain nodded, confusion flickering in his eyes at that but not daring to question. "Yes, Your Majesty."

As the guards moved to their duties, Godfrey placed a comforting hand at the small of Marika's back and guided her gently toward the palace steps. Both of them were exhausted—physically from the dragon battle, emotionally from the confrontation just now. The prospect of a warm bath, some ointment on their burns, and a long, honest talk in the safety of their chambers sounded more precious than any Elden treasure.

At the top of the steps, Godfrey paused and looked back over the city. The moonlight cast the plaza in a gentle glow. Already, servants were dashing out to scrub the blood from the stones and prop the broken doors. The events of this night would become hushed legend among those who saw—no one would believe it fully if they hadn't been here.

He felt Marika's hand squeeze his. "Come, beloved," she said softly. "We have much to… discuss." Her tone was wry, but underpinned with anxiety.

Naruto turned to her and gave a reassuring smile. "One step at a time."

She tutted. "That sounds like a slow way to live."

"We have all the time in the world, don't we?"

...I suppose so."

They entered the golden halls side by side.

A king and queen battered by battle and secrets.

United against whatever trials the coming days would bring.

And there would be many.

So very many...

A/N: Scene~!

More on Messmer later...assuming Radagon doesn't start something.

Hope you're looking forward to it! Would you like weekly updates? Do let me know~!

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