The End

After blocking the heavy blow, Edgar caught the Ruins Greatsword with his halberd. Lucian immediately darted out and drove his sword into Singh's abdomen.

But Singh neither dodged nor evaded, allowing Lucian's sword to sink into his stomach.

Singh gave a powerful yank. Edgar was nearly pulled off balance by the tremendous force, but he quickly steadied himself, leaned back, and began a desperate tug-of-war with Singh.

Blood sprayed from Singh's abdomen. Realizing the abdomen was a relatively vulnerable spot, Lucian immediately put all his strength into tearing the wound fully open.

Blood gushed out, and some of his organs spilled free, but Singh's ferocity was completely roused.

He fixed his eyes solely on Edgar. He wanted to take one of them down first.

Singh stopped pulling on the greatsword and lunged forward instead.

Edgar was weaker than Singh to begin with, and had to lean back to keep from being dragged over.

Now that Singh had changed from pulling to pouncing, Edgar lost his balance and was pinned beneath him. The immense weight made his armor creak.

Singh pinned Edgar's breastplate with one hand, leaving him unable to escape, while his gaping maw lunged for Edgar.

If that bite landed, it could probably tear Edgar's entire head off.

Edgar immediately let go of his halberd and braced Singh's upper and lower jaws with both hands, but he still could not stop that enormous mouth from closing in.

Lucian's attacks continuously carved wounds into Singh's back, yet Singh remained unmoved.

At the critical moment, Evan charged over and poured an entire bottle of Spark Aromatic into Singh's open mouth.

A violent explosion erupted inside Singh's mouth. Since he was so close, Edgar's face and hands were scorched black as well.

Fortunately, the explosion stopped Singh, and Edgar was safe for the moment.

Singh rose and smashed Evan into the wall with an elbow, leaving his fate unknown.

Then he viciously kicked Edgar in the abdomen.

Edgar's armor was kicked inward on impact. He rolled across the ground several times, coughing up mouthfuls of blood, and could not get back up for a while.

Seeing that both men were badly injured, Singh turned to deal with Lucian.

Lucian had already opened some distance and began observing Singh's condition.

Singh was still steadily weakening. His fur had faded to dark red, like clotted blood. His muscles had atrophied, and he could no longer wield the Ruins Greatsword with one hand.

But in return, all the life force he lost was converted by the Ruins Greatsword into resources for battle.

Singh stuffed his exposed organs back into his body, and black mist immediately and brutally filled in the wounds across his body.

Lucian felt terrible. The Ruins Greatsword was absurdly difficult to deal with. As long as its wielder still had a breath left, he could keep fighting.

Even if using it could make someone suddenly drop dead afterward, it was still far too terrifying in battle.

If Lucian had been in decent condition, he could have kept wearing Singh down. Singh's life force would eventually run out.

He would not even need to wait until it was completely depleted. Once Singh weakened to the point where he could barely hold his sword, finishing him would be easy.

But the problem was that Lucian was not in good shape. On the contrary, it was already a miracle that he could still fight.

Both his red and blue Flasks of Crimson Tears were empty. He did not even have enough magic left to use a single skill, and the wounds on his body had split open again during the battle.

His mind was nearing its limit as well. Lucian was already prepared to use his final charge of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow.

I have to use it while I can still move...

Singh dragged his sword as he charged over, but Lucian merely stood where he was, waiting for an opportunity.

"Whoosh, whoosh—"

Several Ballista Bolts tore through the air. Lucian jumped, thinking there were more Confessors.

But those bolts instead buried themselves in Singh's body. Their aim was poor, and several flew wide, but one lucky shot pierced Singh's knee.

Singh dropped directly to his knees. At that moment, two Godrick Soldiers suddenly rushed out from a nearby room, dragging a huge net over Singh.

Lucian froze. He had been ready to activate his hidden backup power source, so where had these reinforcements come from? Still, this was a good thing. Lucian wished they had brought even more men.

Then another four Godrick Soldiers charged out of the room, carrying Brass Shields and spears, with crossbows at their waists. It seemed they had fired the bolts just now.

These Godrick Soldiers varied in age. Some already showed signs of becoming living corpses, while others looked only sixteen or seventeen.

They raised their shields and surrounded Singh, their spears continuously punching bloody holes into his body.

The net hindered Singh's escape, but with the support of the Ruins Greatsword, he still managed to stand and tear through it.

Edgar struggled to his feet and looked at the young soldier leading them with a complicated expression.

He had clearly told him to guard the residents properly. He had brought his men out instead—what if a gap opened in the defenses? What would happen to the residents?

Yet if he had not brought his men here, the three of them probably would not have survived.

Singh's body shriveled further, and his fur began to fall out. Even wielding the sword with both hands, he could barely swing it now, but he continued hacking away because he no longer had the ability to get around the soldiers.

The slashes were blocked by the Brass Shields again and again, while the soldiers' spears continued inflicting wounds on him.

Although soldiers were occasionally struck down, the ones beside them immediately stepped in to take their place.

At last, Singh could no longer raise the Ruins Greatsword. He fell onto his back, utterly powerless.

The soldiers surrounded Singh and waited for Edgar to decide how to deal with him.

Edgar and Lucian walked up to Singh. He already looked as though he were about to die of old age, making the hairs on both their bodies stand on end.

Just moments ago, Singh had been immensely muscular. Now, before their eyes, he had gradually become this gaunt, skeletal figure. The Ruins Greatsword was truly too bizarre. No wonder it had been kept sealed away all this time.

The Ruins Greatsword seemed to know it had failed once more. Its surface returned to a dull, lightless black, waiting for the next person to lift it and swear vengeance.

The Fingers stuck to its hilt fell away one after another as a result.

Evan also slowly made his way over while supporting himself against the wall. He had only taken one elbow strike, but his body was the frailest of them all. That blow had nearly shattered half his ribs.

Evan looked pityingly into Singh's eyes. The pink undertone gradually faded, and the Bewitching Branch's control weakened along with Singh's life.

"Singh, at least regain your senses before you die."

Perhaps Evan's words awakened Singh, or perhaps the control had simply weakened. In any case, Singh finally regained consciousness at the end of his life.

The "enemies" before his eyes suddenly became friends again. The confusion in his thoughts left him unable to adjust at first.

When he finally understood what had happened, two trails of bloody tears ran down Singh's face.

He had actually been used twice, hurting so many innocent people... hurting his friends...

He struggled to lean his neck against the Ruins Greatsword. Too proud to forgive himself for his repeated mistakes, he felt that death was the only thing he could still choose.

But Lucian stopped him and said seriously:

"Suicide is not the ending a warrior deserves."

"Allow me to grant you your final honor. This is my personal respect for your courage."

Singh looked at the Tarnished before him and slowly closed his eyes.

Burdened by sin, Singh did not hope for any honor.

He simply felt that, as the defeated, it was only natural for the victor to decide his fate.

Lucian raised the Lordsworn's Greatsword and thrust it into Singh's chest.

Singh did not struggle at all. He died peacefully. The greatsword standing from his body became his gravestone, recording the life of a tragic yet proud warrior.

Those last few paragraphs were meant to echo Godfrey and the revenge warriors of Castle Morne. Even after being defeated, the Elden Lord and the enemy wielding the Ruins Greatsword still received recognition. I wanted to recreate that kind of scene, but I could never quite capture the feeling. It was painful. My writing skills were still too weak.