The banquet

Warm light blossomed, and Tarnished's consciousness once again entered that strange space. It seemed boundless, with no up or down, left or right. The only thing there was the panel displaying his physical attributes as numbers.

"Forty-nine levels means forty-nine attribute points," Melina's voice rang out in Tarnished's heart. "How would you like to distribute them?"

Tarnished looked at his current attributes:

Level: 31

HP: 529

Focus: 78

Stamina: 96

Vigor: 15

Focus: 10

Endurance: 10

Strength: 27

Dexterity: 16

Intelligence: 12

Faith: 10

Arcane: 10

After a little thought, he had a plan.

As a Shield Poking hero, vigor was not actually that important, since his trusty shield would bear the vast majority of the damage.

"Raise vigor by ten points."

By contrast, guarding with a raised shield consumed a great deal of stamina, so for a Shield Poking hero, the stamina bar was his real health bar.

"Raise endurance by twenty points."

Since he needed to cast Scholar's Shield, he would also need a decent reserve of Focus.

"Raise Focus by ten points."

He had spent forty of his forty-nine attribute points, leaving nine. Tarnished's gaze fell on strength. His ultimate goal was naturally forty-eight points-those who knew, knew-but the Royal Capital of Leyndell was still rather far away, whereas Liurnia was right on his doorstep.

Thinking back, there were two pretty good shields over there. He could use those to tide himself over.

"Raise strength by seven points."

Now that he had established contact with Volcano Manor, perhaps he could find an opportunity to get that weapon.

"Raise dexterity by one point."

Shield Poking was certainly a divine technique demanding exceptional execution and skill, but it was a benevolent technique, inherently disinclined to fighting and low in damage. The real damage had to come from the Blood Loss Curse, and to make that curse trigger more frequently, he naturally needed to raise arcane.

"Put the last attribute point into arcane."

Melina carefully infused the power of the runes into each attribute according to Tarnished's instructions, and his status became:

Level: 31 ↗ 80

HP: 529 ↗ 800

Focus: 78 ↗ 121

Stamina: 96 ↗ 130

Vigor: 15 ↗ 25

Focus: 10 ↗ 20

Endurance: 10 ↗ 30

Strength: 27 ↗ 34

Dexterity: 16 ↗ 17

Intelligence: 12

Faith: 10

Arcane: 10 ↗ 11

There was little to say about the health, FP, and stamina bars. Improvements to these fundamentals were always the most dependable.

Tarnished had chosen to raise strength to thirty-four so he could wield the Golden Greatshield and the Eclipse Crest Greatshield. The former was a greatshield with exceptionally high guard strength, while the latter boasted seventy-two percent magic resistance, making it a true mage's bane. Both shields could be obtained in the Liurnia Region, so he could have Edgar look for them while recruiting.

As for seventeen dexterity, that was to wield another supreme Shield Poking weapon—the Godskin Stitcher.

It was another heavy Estoc, with greater damage and reach than the Great Epee Tarnished currently used. It was a straight upgrade.

The Godskin Stitcher was the weapon of the Godskin Noble hidden within Volcano Manor. Tarnished had absolutely no interest in why the Godskin Noble was there, whether he had fled there after his god's fall or was working with Rykard to overthrow the Golden Order.

That was certainly highly confidential information, but if you kept crouching down to look back at history, you were bound to feel dizzy when you stood up. Tarnished had his own goals. Whatever had happened in the past, however shocking the truth might be, it had nothing to do with him.

All he needed to do was obtain this weapon, become stronger, and then realize his dream of establishing a new era without regrets, where everyone could be happy.

So, should I find some more pots and pans and get Tanith to send me the Godskin Stitcher?

Speaking of weapons, though, the Great Epee is still stuck in the ceiling at Roundtable Hold. I'll have to find time to retrieve it first.

There's plenty to do. One step at a time.

With that thought, Tarnished opened his eyes.

"Did it work?" everyone asked anxiously.

"Yes, it worked. The power of a million runes is now mine to wield." Tarnished tapped his chest. "All your strength is right here, greater than Godrick's."

Hearing that, everyone shared a knowing smile.

Tarnished was right.

Although he had discarded Godrick's Center of the Elden Ring, he had gained even greater power.

The Center of the Elden Ring raised every attribute by five points. Across eight attributes, that amounted to forty points, or forty levels. But thanks to the people's hard work, Tarnished had obtained a million runes and gained forty-nine levels.

The paintings had certainly played a part, but those paintings had also been created by the people. Most importantly, the enhancement from the Center of the Elden Ring had a limit. It could only give so much. The value produced through labor, however, was limitless. The people's strength would flow without end. They were weak individually, but united, they could rise above even demigods!

"Let's hold a celebration." Tarnished did not forget those who had made his success possible. "Everyone has worked hard for so long. Take some time to relax."

No one objected.

People had been wound too tight rushing to finish Volcano Manor's samples. It was time for a rest.

And so, on the following night, Limgrave held a grand bonfire celebration.

Gatefront had once been a land soaked in blood. Now warm bonfires and laughter gave it a new meaning.

More than a dozen roaring bonfires shone like stars fallen to earth, painting the night sky a warm red. Above the walls, where the cruel banners of "grafting" had once flown, garlands and ribbons now hung instead.

People gathered in the newly leveled square. Long wooden tables stood where ballistae had once been emplaced, and the air carried the smoky aroma of roasting meat, the mellow fragrance of fruit wine, and the wheaty scent of freshly baked bread. These ordinary, comforting smells easily swept away the stench of blood that had lingered here.

"Give me another!" a red-faced middle-aged man called, raising his wooden cup high.

The young woman serving wine smiled as she filled his cup. "Uncle Hans, that's your third!"

"I'm happy!" Hans slapped the back of a silent man beside him. "Look, everyone! This is Josef, the old blacksmith. His shop has reopened! He repaired my plowshare, and it works better than ever!"

Josef smiled shyly, cradling an almost untouched cup of wine. A few years ago, Godrick's soldiers had stripped his smithy bare, and two of his fingers had been cut off for refusing to forge instruments of torture for the Grafted Noble.

"Who could have imagined?" Josef said softly to the person beside him. "These hands of mine used to make nothing but weapons for killing."

Now his shop was full of orders for farming tools and building materials. Stormveil had rebuilt his smithy and provided him with food and other necessities free of charge. He had taken on two apprentices-a young man who had lost his parents and a veteran who had lost a leg on the battlefield.

Beside a great bonfire nearby, Kale of the Nomadic Merchants was playing his erhu. Instead of a mournful melody, he played the lively "Windmill Village Dance." Children and second-generation Albinaurics held hands in a circle, dancing clumsily, their laughter clear as bells. A white-haired old woman sat nearby, tears glimmering in her eyes as she gently clapped along. All three of her sons had died beneath Gatefront's walls. Now she could sit peacefully in the place that had taken her dearest loved ones, smiling and applauding other people's children.

Amid the merriment, a one-armed man approached a small figure in a corner.

"Try this." Orwin pushed a skewer of sizzling, dripping leg of lamb into the Demi-Human Doc's hands.

Doc flinched, his scrawny body instinctively leaning back, his claws trembling slightly. Just half a year ago, human soldiers had driven him away with spears. He remembered the flying arrows, the hate-filled looks, and all those days and nights when he and his kin could only hide in caves and lick their wounds.

"My hands... are dirty," Doc said quietly, afraid to meet Orwin's eyes.

Orwin burst into booming laughter, revealing a missing tooth. "Mine aren't clean either. Go on, eat. You've earned it. Have a little confidence. I've seen you tending the sheep. No one takes better care of them."

Doc cautiously sniffed the meat, and its aroma made his stomach rumble. He took a tentative little bite, grease trickling down his chin. It was his first time eating in front of so many humans, and he felt nervous.

"Th-thank you," Doc said softly. He remembered that this was human etiquette, but it was so loud around them that he did not know whether Orwin had heard.

The one-armed man sat beside him, pulled out his flask, and took a long drink. "You know, Doc? I used to hate Demi-Humans more than anything. My arm was..." He paused, his empty sleeve swaying in the breeze. "But I saw you working, and I saw you carrying a feverish child to Miss Irina. Suddenly, I understood something. We shouldn't be killing each other. We all feel pain. We all get scared. All we want is a safe place to call home."

Doc was silent for a while, tightening his grip on the skewer.

"I used to hate humans too," he said. "You burned my home and killed my companions. But that day... that little girl had her leg trapped under a rock. She looked at me and asked me for help instead of screaming."

Not far away, Hector was busy serving soup. He was one of the deserters who had robbed people alongside Patches in Murkwater Cave, and compulsory labor was Stormveil's punishment for him. Now an orderly queue stood before his stall-women holding babies, elderly people supporting one another, and an Albinauric sitting on the ground.

"Your legs..." Hector began, pouring steaming soup into the wooden bowl the Albinauric held out.

The Albinauric looked down at his broken body. The cracks stood out clearly in the firelight, and some mischievous child had filled them with tiny wildflowers. "Our legs wear away with time. The moment they wear out completely is the moment we die." The elderly Albinauric's voice was like a book filled with stories. "Those sorcerers considered us useless creations and told us to stay in the Village of the Albinaurics and quietly wait for death. But look-these nearly worn-out legs brought me all the way here." He carefully blew on the soup in his wooden bowl, then turned and handed it to the human child waiting behind him.

Watching this, a complicated emotion flickered in Hector's eyes. He was a deserter. Not long ago, he had been robbing travelers, yet now he could stand here distributing free food to others.

"I used to think this world was a hell where the strong devoured the weak," Hector said, almost to himself, as he scooped up a generous ladleful of stew packed with vegetables and chunks of meat. "Either you robbed people or you starved. But now..." He smiled. "Turns out even a useless fellow like me can earn his meals with his own two hands. Every night when I lie down, my belly is full, and my heart is at ease."

A deeply wrinkled old woman in the queue nodded. "Yesterday, a rock broke my granddaughter's leg, and a Demi-Human carried her to the medical team. Before this, we would have shut our doors and windows tight whenever we saw one."

As the night deepened, the music and laughter only grew louder. Tarnished sat quietly on a low wall at the edge of the crowd, his gauntlets set aside, revealing callused hands. His armor still bore flecks of mud and mortar from repairing the walls that day. Compared with the commoners around him in their festive clothes, he looked positively plain.

Hans staggered over with a wooden cup raised, his face flushed with drink. "Lord Tarnished, a toast to you!" His voice was hoarse with emotion. "Before you came, I spent every day waiting to die. Guarding these crumbling walls, never knowing what for, never knowing what tomorrow even meant."

Tarnished readily accepted the other cup Hans offered. His gaze swept over the laughing crowd-Demi-Human children danced with human children, Albinaurics competed in horsemanship with the Kaiden Mercenaries, the Warrior Jar Alexander and the Troll boasted about who was stronger, and soldiers and merchants who had once hated each other now sat drinking together...

"Trust me, Hans. Tomorrow will be better!"

At the other end of the square, Roderika had just finished discussing their newest embroidery design with Fia.

"Whew. My father once told me that sharing a table with commoners would tarnish a noble's honor." Looking toward Tarnished, Roderika could not help smiling. "But now it seems true honor lies not in whom you share a table with, but in what you do for the people sitting there."

"You like him," Fia said with a smile.

Roderika jumped. "I do not!"

"What a shame. He probably likes you, or he wouldn't call you his third wife."

"That's only a joke," Roderika said, biting her lip. "And now he already has two fiancées."

"If he already has two fiancées, why can't he have a third?"

"Can he?" Roderika asked in surprise.

"Can't he?" Fia countered.

Roderika imagined herself getting engaged to Tarnished, and a puff of steam burst from the top of her head.

"Wow, that's quite a reaction. I was only discussing it with you," Fia teased.

The young noblewoman was mortified and clumsily changed the subject. "Aren't you joining the banquet?"

"No. I have another banquet to attend. The living probably wouldn't enjoy it." Smiling, Fia walked toward Those Who Live in Death hidden in the shadows. Summonwater Village was also holding a bonfire celebration, though its fires were ghostly flames.

"Can she? Can't she?" Fia murmured as she walked. D emerged from the darkness and came to her side.

"I'll escort you, so you don't sneak off and hatch more schemes, you witch."

Fia rolled her lovely eyes and curtsied, accepting the awkward fellow's company.

Watching the two depart, Rogier could not help smiling.

Kenneth Haight was drunk, laughing and crying by turns. Before Edgar could stop him, he climbed onto the wall and began a speech that sounded almost like a song:

"Peace is not a grand treaty or a hero's epic. It is these little choices-choosing trust over suspicion, choosing sharing over plunder, choosing to sit down and eat together rather than draw swords against one another. On this land once torn apart by war, every such choice is a miracle greater than any legendary sorcery!"

As he spoke, he pitched headfirst off the wall. Edgar barely managed to catch him, saving him from splattering his brains across the ground.

Tarnished did not know whether to laugh or cry, and had someone take Kenneth Haight back to his room.

Turning to Melina beside him, he asked, "Can you see scenes like this from inside my body?"

Melina paused, then shook her head. "No. Although I dwell within you, I cannot intrude upon your privacy. I cannot see through your eyes or share your senses. I am a wandering soul. Your body is a haven where I can rest. It is peaceful there, but completely dark."

"Then come out and look around more often." Tarnished revealed his true intention.

"Is that why you insisted I attend the banquet with you?" Melina asked, puzzled.

"Yes. Being alone is too lonely. Believe it or not, I know how that feels."

Melina looked at Tarnished, and Tarnished looked back at her.

After a moment, Melina said softly, "I... will."

Tarnished smiled.

Suddenly, Melina felt a little unable to look at Tarnished. Lowering her head, she said, "I'm a little tired. I'd like to go back."

"Then get some rest." Tarnished spread his arms. "I'll drink with them a little longer."

Melina nodded and stepped into Tarnished's embrace. Just before they touched, she raised her head. "Thank you for bringing me to the banquet. I... really enjoyed it."

Tarnished reached out to pat her head, but before his hand reached her, the girl dissolved into motes of light and vanished.

Shy, huh? So cute!

Tarnished took a deep breath. Once he was certain Melina had returned to his body, he immediately found Nepheli and Irina and pulled them into a secluded corner.

"I've confirmed it." Tarnished revealed the true intention behind his true intention. "Melina can't see outside, so, my two wives, please!"