Enlightenment · Six
Calamity lurks in the abyss.
When her spirit, her will, arrived at this place, the dark abyss surface immediately boiled.
"Muspelheim, unfold."
A fiery realm descended upon her by her will. The lake water evaporated, but instead of following the laws of physics to vaporize, it vanished directly into nothingness. And when the disguise on the surface of the water was removed, the dark creature beneath the surface was revealed to her eyes.
Abyss.
The essence of the abyss is the Humanity's Darkness.
It is the convergence of curses, the aggregation of power. It is the deep shadow born with the First Flame. If there is anything in this world most suitable for prolonging the burning of the First Flame, it is none other than the Abyss.
However, the Abyss cannot be used directly to kindle the First Flame —its resistance is far too severe. So severe that wherever the First Flame touches, any trace of the Abyss vanishes completely. It's as if fuel is ignited by the intense heat on its way to the fire. While the Abyss is suitable kindling, it will be reduced to nothing before even reaching the First Flame.
Therefore, if you want to use the abyss as material, you must prepare a suitable container.
Miss Surtr's idea was to use the Profaned Flame as a transitional vessel for the abyss, allowing this unrefined crude oil to be processed and used in high-tech industrial fields.
She summoned the Profaned Flame.
The Profaned Flame into a massive fireball, hovering in the abyss created by the Land of Fire.
Before igniting the abyss, what awaits Miss Surtr is a battle that is not the final one.
She saw a black blade fall from the sky; she knew it was called the Black Blade, and it had once belonged to the petite swordswoman who served King Vordt.
She didn't stop it, because she knew this was a desperate gamble from the abyss—the convergence of countless curses would create a substitute body to fight her. And even if she prevented the Black Blade from falling, she would still encounter other adversaries.
And so she gazed—gazed at the boiling surface of the dark abyss, gazed at the swordswoman in the black dress, reviving from the boiling darkness.
In this era, there are three agents of the Abyss. One is in Rundall, named Liliane. Another is in Lothric, named Yuria.
And now, the oldest and most powerful of the Child of Dark has opened his eyes under Miss Surtr's gaze!
El... Friede!
No two-in-one content today, don't want to grind until dawn _(:з"∠)_
Ah... anyone want to read about Attack on Titan's memory fragments? I'll write one when Dark Souls ends _(:з"∠)_
Chapter 217 Enlightenment VI
Three months have passed since Kal'tsit arrived in Lothric Castle.
That's right, three months.
Her plan succeeded. The knights, secretly manipulated by Rundall, were lured away and failed to catch the four-person team at the crucial moment. When they successfully stormed the border High Wall with a counterattack, Bordeaux, who could no longer be considered alive, volunteered to cover their retreat.
It may be completely dead.
It may still exist as an immortal being.
However, it will never reappear in Lothric, and its legacy will belong entirely to Kal'tsit.
Rundall's plan failed—it did not ignite a war between the two countries, but instead provided a window for the dovish forces within both sides to divert attention from the conflict—the status of the Undead plummeted as a result, while Gwyndolin returned to the capital and Kal'tsit was recognized as a high-ranking knight.
She met with Lorian, one of the Twin Princes, who promised that she could remove her cloak within the kingdom without attracting any strange looks. This was because she was a living being, possessing all the characteristics of a living being, and undetectable by magic— Spirit-like Entity. And in the Lothric Castle, which desperately needed to deal with the undead rebellion and the signs of impending doom, no one would care whether a high-ranking knight wore distinctive cat ears.
She settled down.
Her settlement was accompanied by Gwyndolin's interference in government affairs.
In the past, Gwyndolin, who had yielded to uphold the authority of the princes, has finally become a political figure and participated in this power game. And when the Winged Knights under the Princess's command bare their fangs after gaining political support, this resurgent and powerful force moves the entire nation.
The high priests of the Azure Cult are her adversaries, the dragon knights are her allies, and the sages of the library remain neutral. And so, undercurrents surge within the depths of the royal city.
Kal'tsit could clearly sense that beneath the surface of this open struggle, a hidden force was secretly stirring things up, even receiving external assistance. The stalemate between Gwyndolin and Lorian in Lothric was precisely due to this hidden third force, and she was not the only one aware of this fact.
"It is my father, Oceiros, the former, or rather, the current king." — Gwyndolin invited her to a private tea party and explained this to her.
"My father has gone mad. He is imprisoned in the Demon King's courtyard, yet he remains free. This is because he is ultimately a king who supports linking the First Flame. And Lothric is a nation that holds the responsibility of linking the First Flame. My brother, Lothric, who was born to be the King of Cinder, was misled by the sages and refused to link the First Flame. This is why, even if they ascend the throne, they remain only princes and are not worthy of being kings."
Gwyndolin picked up a cup of black tea, took a small sip, and the tea was as red as blood.
"My father has gone mad, and a mad king is incapable of handling state affairs. But he must still have many followers and loyalists around him. These people surround my father, hoping that he will one day regain his sanity, and also hoping that the 'Son of the Dragon' secret technique that he has been researching will succeed. And it is through their efforts that I, who should have been at a disadvantage, have been able to achieve a balance with my brothers."
She smiled at Kal'tsit, a smile that was genuine, yet could no longer conceal the chilling aura of a predator.
"Isn't it interesting, Kal'tsit? The whole world has become what it is because of an old father's pursuit of the glory of linking the fire. My brother Lothric was born weak, and even if he managed to ascend the throne of Cinder, he couldn't prolong the season of linking the fire for long. So many years ago, the Whitebeard chose the hero Gundyr to take over the duty of linking the fire... However, my father imprisoned him, determined to use the arcane arts to create a dragon child with the qualities of a Cinder Lord, but he failed, which drove him to madness, and the end was about to come."
"Your Highness..." Kal'tsit lowered her eyes slightly. "If... you succeed, what will you do?"
"I will send my brother into the First Flame," Gwyndolin answered calmly and slowly. "Of course, he is no longer even qualified to be a Lord of Cinder. At most, he can only serve as a catalyst. So, not only my brother Lothric, but I will send my brother Lorian, and all their knights and colleagues, into the First Flame —if that is not enough, I will wage war and plunder the surviving kings and heroes. Ah... of course, before that, I will send my father in as well."
"... You are well-suited to be a king, Your Highness." If anyone familiar with Kal'tsit were here, they would certainly have heard the sarcasm and irony in her words.
"I'm not suitable." However, Gwyndolin could tell, but simply waved her hand gently. "It's just that someone has to be in the position I've predicted, doing what I need to do. My brothers believe that linking the fire is a curse, so the whole world should be plunged back into darkness. But that would mean the extinction of human civilization, so sacrificing the freedom and lives of some individuals is just a trivial sacrifice in order to ensure the continuation of civilization."
She winked at Kal'tsit.
"If even piling up that much firewood isn't enough to keep the First Flame burning, I myself will jump into the First Flame. Of course, power is a tempting poison, and I don't know if I could maintain the same desires then. So..."
"... If I change my mind then, then you can kill me. Kal'tsit."
The air fell silent for a moment.
Kal'tsit lifted the teapot and refilled the Princess's cup with black tea.
"Your Highness." There was no surprise in her voice. "This joke isn't funny."
"I'm not joking." However, Gwyndolin simply waved his hand. "I have many knights around me, some brave, some intelligent, most of them loyal, and a few who are subservient for personal gain—I can give them benefits and honor, so I can rely on them to ascend the throne. But they lack one quality, a quality that you have but they don't."
"That is the quality of becoming a hero."
She didn't let Kal'tsit refute her, but instead put her hands together and continued to speak.
"Don't rush to deny it. I know you come from a foreign land, perhaps from another continent, or even an independent space like Eremias. Where you are, the definition of a hero may be different from that of Lordran. However, here, the meaning of a hero is only one—that is, a strong person who is qualified to accumulate a huge number of souls, become suitable kindling, and is willing to rekindle the flame. I have been observing you for the past three months, and I am well aware of your special qualities."
"The strong are often resolute—for the past three months, you have been going against the tide to help the innocent undead. You are extinguishing the Mars of war, helping those who have lost their property due to the signs of the apocalypse, and moving between salons and gatherings, using all sorts of clever tricks to prevent direct conflict between different forces. You have been doing this all along, and it has brought you no direct benefit."
"So, this is your creed—you are so devoted to it that even if you were to die here, you would surely be able to be resurrected with an immortal body. And beyond that, I can see the speed at which you are growing." Gwyndolin picked up the second cup of black tea that Kal'tsit had poured for her and took a small sip.
"When I first saw you, your strength was only slightly above that of an ordinary senior knight."