White Mask Varre

Lucian stared dumbly at the scene before him.

Ever since he had crossed over, he had either been in the perilous Chapel of Anticipation or in dim, oppressive caves and catacombs, to the point that he had forgotten the artwork-like scenery of Elden Ring.

Bathed in the Erdtree's radiance, Lucian seemed to recapture the awe he had felt when he first played Elden Ring.

It was pure joy. Simply opening the game had made him excited for what came next.

The warmth of the Erdtree's light, the faint scent of flowers, the flocks of sheep wandering lazily.

It was hard to imagine such a harmonious scene existing on land watered with blood.

All this beauty made Lucian feel, for the first time, that he was truly alive in this fantastical, magnificent world.

His reluctance to face the fact of his death in his previous life, his doubts over whether he had truly crossed into another world—all the things that had lingered and piled up in Lucian's heart were cast aside at this moment.

He no longer struggled with it. Since he had already come to this world, he might as well enjoy it.

Hakan walked over to Lucian's side.

"How is it? Pretty breathtaking, right? Though the Golden Order has shattered, the Erdtree still stands."

Lucian said nothing. Only after a while did he speak.

"I've decided. I'm going to bring peace to the Lands Between."

"What? You... are you serious? Do you know how difficult that is?"

"It may have been a spur-of-the-moment decision, but my resolve is genuine."

Lucian spoke earnestly.

Hakan's expression was extremely complicated.

He did not think Lucian could succeed, but without realizing it, he began imagining such a scene.

"Sigh, I wish you success. When the time comes, I can ride your coattails and experience a peaceful age myself."

Hakan sighed. He still could not imagine such a thing happening in the Lands Between.

He patted his warhorse and swung himself into the saddle.

"Our journey should end here. It was a pleasure traveling with you. I hope we never meet on opposite sides of a blade."

Though those final words did not sound particularly auspicious, Lucian knew that such a tragedy truly could happen in this land.

"Haha, I still have to buy you a drink. Just don't die in some corner before then."

Lucian grinned as he bid Hakan farewell. Hakan turned back, and the two smiled at each other.

As if remembering something, Hakan pulled an item from his warhorse's pack and tossed it to Lucian.

"Catch."

Lucian easily caught it. It was a metal helmet, with the back and crown covered in scale armor, while fine chainmail shielded the face, leaving only the eyes exposed.

Lucian was quite surprised. It was precisely a Kaiden Mercenary helmet. No wonder he had never seen Hakan wear it—it had been stored in the pack all along.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

Without turning around, Hakan merely waved his hand.

"A helmet is armor only a warrior deserves to wear. You happen to be missing one, and I happen to have no use for it anymore."

"I'm no longer a warrior."

Lucian held the helmet and said nothing more.

"You must stay alive and wait for the future Elden Lord to invite you for a drink. If you die first, I won't forgive you."

"Hahahaha! Then I'll look forward to it."

Lucian had already come to regard Hakan as a friend. After this parting, he did not know whether they would ever meet again.

But neither of them would stop in their tracks out of concern for the other.

In the Lands Between, everyone had something they needed to do.

Lucian looked toward the distant ruins of a church and set off down the road ahead.

After walking for roughly ten minutes, Lucian followed the guidance of Grace and arrived at a small rise.

Lucian could not help complaining.

"It really is different from the game. The map is who knows how much bigger, though this does make it feel more realistic."

"Riding for a few minutes and crossing an entire mountain in the game was just ridiculous. They only shrank the scale of the map for gameplay."

A site of Grace burned warmly before him.

But just as Lucian was about to touch the Grace, a rustling sound suddenly came from the bushes nearby.

Lucian held his breath and watched intently, both hands resting on his weapons, ready to fight at any moment.

Yet the sound soon subsided, as though some small animal had merely passed through by accident.

But Lucian knew there was someone who would appear around here.

"Stop hiding. I can still tell the sounds people make apart."

"Rustle, rustle—"

The bushes were pushed aside, and a figure emerged from within.

The newcomer wore a white mask bearing a smiling face and a set of white clothes stained all over with blood that had blackened with age.

Lucian knew him. He was White Mask Varre, a subordinate of the Lord of Blood.

Once a battlefield physician who granted others release on the battlefield, he had been abducted by Mohg, the Lord of Blood, forced to accept cursed blood, and yet willingly began serving Mohg.

"Hehe, what sharp observation."

His sickly sweet voice lavished praise without reservation.

The instant Lucian heard that voice, he felt nauseated.

It was as though Varre chewed on his own tongue and the inside of his mouth while speaking, his mouth full of blood, yet thoroughly enjoying it—and even wanting to smear that blood inside the listener's ears.

And he was effeminate, too.

Lucian forcibly restrained the urge to split him open with a single stroke and pretended not to know him.

"Who are you?"

Varre folded his gloves, discolored from being soaked in blood, together and slowly rubbed them like a fly rubbing its hands.

"Oh, Tarnished, you who came to the Lands Between in pursuit of the Elden Ring."

"But how truly pitiful... You have no Maiden by your side."

"You cannot draw strength from Runes, nor can you receive an invitation to the Roundtable Hold. I fear you can only die in obscurity, hehehe..."

Lucian gradually frowned. This guy was even more obnoxious than he had been in the game.

Seemingly noticing Lucian's disgust, Varre slightly reined in his revolting smile.

"But don't worry, my dear. Even without a Maiden, you still have a glimmer of hope—"

"I happen to know that you need a little help right now, and you just so happened to meet me, Varre."

"You know Grace, don't you? That golden light that allows you Tarnished to rest for a while. Follow the direction of that light, and you will find the path you Tarnished are meant to travel."

"Yes, Grace will guide you—where you should go, or perhaps... where you should be buried."

"I don't know whether you're among the few Tarnished who can see Grace, but I imagine the direction it guides you toward must be the castle atop that cliff, Stormveil."

Lucian patiently listened to Varre's explanation to the end.

It seems the setting and timeline haven't changed much from the game.

"What is your purpose in appearing here?"

Lucian asked.

Varre chuckled a few times before answering.

"I was sent by a certain lord to set Tarnished without Maidens back on the proper path."

"Now then, get moving. Head for Stormveil, where that old and ugly demigod, Godrick the Grafted, resides."

"If you seek the Elden Ring despite having no Maiden, that is what you must do. Hehehe."