Unintentionally Planting a Willow

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Chapter 196 An Unintentional Success

The night was long, but not as long as I had expected.

After dealing with the small place of the Undead Fortress, Miss Surtr continued her journey in her caravan towards Farron—she had taken the smelting furnace hidden inside the Cursed Tree while she was dealing with it, thus seizing this artifact that belonged to Lord of Cinder Ludleth.

The Smelting Furnace, a secret technique of the Dwarf Kings. Once activated and put into use through proper means, this furnace core will possess the power to melt souls and forge Soul Flame into artifacts.

Miss Surtr didn't know how many legendary weapons in this world once belonged to the souls of ancient heroes. But she didn't care; all she cared about was the phenomenon that souls could be transformed into weapons, even miraculous magic. And following the same logic, since Yelena was able to bring the Storm Ruler back to Terra, then other weapons, other souls, should also be able to be transferred in the same way.

This was her way of reassuring herself—although she already had plenty of reassurances, the more of these things she needed, the better.

But--

"Ludleth isn't here, so how am I supposed to use this furnace?"

Miss Surtr held the forge in one hand, lost in thought— the Profaned Flame she wielded were ultimately not omnipotent. Even if she could sense her own body and completely replicate the Originium Arts transcribed from the world's rules, it didn't mean she could fully examine a sealed, finished artifact.

This thing is very complicated.

She stared at the smelting furnace, at the layers of runes hidden beneath its smooth inner walls. She could decipher many of them, but understood very few. Trying to decipher such a device was as absurd as someone who had never seen a computer trying to understand its internal workings by staring at a screen.

—Runic structure, composite circuits. The magic and spells of Lordran are not fundamentally different from programming in other worlds. They are simply about inputting appropriate instructions into specific operating units to make them perform various functions... or rather, the magic in many non-idealistic worlds I've experienced is roughly the same. In terms of rigor and precision, it's not much different from a supercomputer with similar computing power.

—As expected, I either need to obtain the key, which is the incantation used to trigger the decryption, or find a sufficiently knowledgeable researcher to help me crack it.

—Ah... another reason for searching for Clara. I really don't want to do this, but I have to have a backup plan. Who knows if the Fire Keeper will be modified by the world rules into a crafted Soul Weapon when I bring her back to Terra. I'd better figure out a way to craft her into a reversed form before then.

Furthermore, if I were to discover then that I couldn't bring the Fire Keeper back—I could at least forge her into a Soul Weapon, bring her back to Terra, and then restore her. This way, everything would be foolproof. And if I were to travel to other Dreamlands and need to retrieve someone later, I could do the same.

The Flame-haired maiden thought to herself—she felt as if she had overlooked something.

But upon closer reflection, it seems there's nothing to overlook. Isn't it just about transforming a sentient weapon into a human? It's a very ordinary and common technology; why all the fuss?

So she tilted her head and put the smelting furnace aside—since she couldn't figure anything out right now, she might as well take it to a professional. That way, she might save more energy and time.

—As expected, we can't do without Clara.

Ah... I really hope to see her by the Ashen Lake. For her, it would be fourteen thousand years, but for me...

Miss Surtr calculated the total amount of time she had subjectively experienced since she first arrived in the Dark Souls world.

It took her quite a while to arrive at a result that left her slightly melancholic.

—It seems like I've been waiting even longer?

She thought about it, but quickly dismissed the pointless idea. As she focused her attention on driving, the sun's rays soon appeared on the horizon.

Miss Surtr stopped her carriage atop a hill, where ordinary forests and morning mists abounded. With a wave of her hand, the damp mist dissipated in the warm breeze. As her view broadened, the distant fortresses and settlements came into view.

That wasn't Fran—it was just an ordinary, unremarkable city. On this continent, besides the revered Kingdom of Lothric, the Holy Land of the Firelinker, there were many other nations, large and small. And when the flame waned, often only one or two representative heroes remained, while the vast majority of ordinary people vanished in the chaos of time.

Poor people, they remained ignorant until destruction came.

Miss Surtr sighed inwardly. Though separated by a great distance, she could still sense the bustling energy and vibrancy of the town—the devastating news of the dying flames hadn't been deliberately spread. And before the widespread appearance of the undead, the land of Tales of Tales and its ignorant inhabitants remained immersed in the blissful peace and tranquility.

She shook her head, intending neither to do nor to handle anything—she wanted to save the world's fate because she wanted to. She had no desire to be responsible for the ignorant people of this land.

I hate taking unnecessary responsibility, and I don't want to fight for people I don't know.

—But as much as I hate it, I do it all the time... Ugh, headache. After the matter of linking the fire is resolved, if I have some free time, I'll travel around the myriad kingdoms of this era.

She knocked on the door of the caravan, sensing two heartbeats reviving and blood rushing to her head—after giving the crow's call, she quietly left. When she returned with firewood and some local animals, the Fire Keeper and Kal'tsit had already prepared themselves and set up a makeshift camp.

"Good morning, Kal'tsit." "Good morning, Fire Keeper."

"Good morning, Surtr." "Good morning, Miss."

A simple greeting, a gentle smile. After a brief morning chat, Miss Surtr personally prepared a quick but perfectly cooked snack and porridge for the two who had just woken up and were still a little groggy. While they ate heartily, she continued studying the map the Fire Keeper had given her.

"I think I haven't gone the wrong way," Miss Surtr concluded after comparing the surrounding terrain.

"But the journey still seems long," she said—not as a complaint, but simply as a statement. After a day and night of rest, she could clearly feel her intellect returning.

Recovery. Combat strength has increased by approximately ten percent compared to yesterday.

It's not a lot, but it's a good trend.

Perhaps once the Franco issue is resolved, I can handle the subsequent matters with a slightly more assertive approach.

She thought of it and felt the Fire Keeper approach her body.

"Should we speed things up, Miss?" the Fire Keeper asked her. "While there's no way to reach the Undead Legion's shrine directly, I'm confident I can shift our spatial coordinates to the woodlands around Farron. If that's the case, you can reach the path to the Abyss through the Undead Legion's shrine as early as that day."

Miss Surtr nodded and then shook her head.

"I know, but there's no need. I'm going to Ashen Lake because I suspect that an old friend of mine might be living in seclusion there. And her ability to break cursed powers is absolutely unmatched in the world today."

"Her?" The Fire Keeper had a strange focus.

"Yes, the last daughter of the Chaos Witch, Clara."

When she uttered the name, the Fire Keeper let out a soft "ah".

"Fourteen thousand years ago, she taught me sorcery. Strictly speaking, I should actually call her my teacher. However, after I finished learning sorcery, I found that projecting flames was far less effective than simply charging in with a sword and cutting them down. So she gradually stopped allowing me to call her my teacher."

Miss Surtr said with a touch of nostalgia, "I met her once before the linking of the fire. She taught me the spell of the Great Firestorm and then said that there was nothing more she could teach me... Ah, speaking of which, I have never used this spell before."

She raised her hand and pressed it against the empty space in front of her. Invisible flames immediately gathered in the direction she pointed and quickly transformed into something tangible. However, before the spell could take shape, she stopped it.

This is a mountain forest after all; playing with fire is not a good idea.

So she shrugged.

"I don't think there are any sorcerers stronger than her. Ashen Lake is her homeland, the tomb of her mother and many brothers and sisters—for a witch, living for more than ten thousand years shouldn't be difficult for her. I just wonder if she still remembers me after all these years."

She received no answer— Fire Keeper probably couldn't answer her on such a question either. After all, witches were also gods, and the Chaos Flame they wielded was the Lord of Life. They and Gwyn lineage, who controlled the Lord of Light, clearly couldn't be considered the same category.

The air fell silent for a few seconds.

"We'll be off in a little while," Miss Surtr said, turning and walking toward the campfire— the Fire Keeper following close behind.