Crackle! Crackle!
It was the sound of flames burning...
In the dark world, a murky yellow fire sprang to life. Beyond the flames, I thought I heard someone chanting in a whisper:
...chaos...
Who was that?
Where was I now?
The flames were silent, offering no answer. They only kept burning, blazing higher until they set the heavens alight and stained the entire world a murky yellow!
I was surrounded.
The fire devoured the oxygen, leaving my chest tight and me struggling to breathe. Its searing heat drew sticky sweat from my body... When I looked down, my hands were melting and dripping as though they were made of wax.
My entire body was about to be consumed by the flames!
"Ah-!" My eyes flew open. Fresh, icy air rushed into my lungs, making me sit up and cough.
Crackle! Crackle!
There really was a campfire beside me, scattering faint sparks.
From the other side of the fire came a man's sly voice. "Oh, you're awake?"
I looked up-and saw a bald head?! It was Nerijus!
Ten thousand alarms blared in my mind at once!
I glanced around. My weapons weren't beside me, and my waist pouch was missing too. Had this bastard taken everything?
-Death!
In my panic, I grabbed a rock and hurled it at Nerijus.
"Hey, calm down!" He hurriedly stood and stepped aside.
I forced a warning through clenched teeth. "D-don't come any closer! Nerijus!"
"I told you... Ow!"
Good. Right on his bald head!
Humiliated and furious, the man abruptly pulled something from his waist and took a swig. Then he breathed it toward me, sending a cloud of choking yellow dust rolling my way.
-Cough, cough! Wh-what was this?
Before I could figure out what was happening, a dark figure burst through the cloud. His arm struck my neck, forcing me down against the ground.
A moment later, a dagger stabbed into the stone with a sharp, piercing clink, clearing much of the fog from my mind.
Only then did I get a good look at him.
He had a pinched, ratlike face, and a faint red mark on his smooth, rounded bald head. When his fierce gaze met mine, it suddenly softened, and he said with a smile, "Well? Awake now?"
He really wasn't Nerijus. They were both bald, but this man's face lacked the crimson trident mark-the symbol of someone from the Mohgwyn Dynasty.
And speaking of another bald man, it could only be...
"The name's Patches. 'Mad' Patches. I'm a Tarnished like you, a drifter who travels all over." Patches stood and walked back to the other side of the fire. "So let's get along, shall we? Heh heh heh."
My mind was still reeling. Was I still alive?
"What... happened to me?"
Patches smiled. "Lucky lad, aren't you? You passed out outside Murkwater Cave this morning, and happened to run into a good Samaritan like me. So I brought you in and saved you."
"Then... what about Nerijus?"
"Nerijus? Oh, you mean that troublesome Bloody Finger." Patches poked at the fire. "He's dead."
"Dead...?"
"That's right. His corpse was lying right beside you when I found you. Looked like someone had ambushed him from behind and run him through the head." Patches looked over at me again. "Don't know who it was, but you got lucky, lad. That's how you escaped him with your life, I'd wager."
I recalled the last thing I had seen before losing consciousness:
-After Nerijus ambushed me, I had dimly seen a cold gleam stretching out from the far end of the night. It did seem to have struck him in the head.
Had Yura, the Bloody Finger Hunter, made it there after all?
But remembering last night's desperate fight, with my life hanging by a thread, still made my hands-and my heart-tremble uncontrollably.
Was killing someone, or being killed by someone else, really this terrifying?
But then, that time I passed through the mist...
Hmm?
When I touched my chest, I discovered that the wound had healed.
Of course, with the Flask of Crimson Tears' miraculous healing, that was hardly surprising. The problem was, where was my Flask of Crimson Tears?!
"Hey." As though he had seen through my predicament, Patches tossed me a bundle. "Catch."
The Straight Sword, the Large Leather Shield, my tool pouch, the Flask of Wondrous Physick... Everything had been wrapped in a set of cloth clothes. I remembered that, in the game, Patches had initially hidden this very outfit in a treasure chest to lure the Tarnished into his trap.
But did this mean he was giving it to me for free?
My first set of clothes in the real Elden Ring world was a gift from Patches?!
Had I actually met a good guy?!
Patches raised a hand, gathering a golden glow of runes in his palm. "I'll be helping myself to your runes, though. I did save your life, after all."
Uh, scratch what I said before. This bastard was taking advantage of my misfortune!
Then again, trading about two thousand for my life seemed like a better deal for me.
After watching me put on the clothes, Patches continued, "Hey, mate. You had quite a few runes on you, and you survived that Nerijus fellow. You must be pretty strong."
"...I'm not really sure myself." I chose a vague answer.
Patches brushed it off. "No need to be modest. To be frank, I've fought him myself. I know how strong he was."
"...You couldn't beat him? So you had to hide in this cave?" I ventured.
Patches paused, then rubbed his bald head helplessly. "Ha ha ha! Saw right through me, did you? Still, I know this cave better than he did, so he wouldn't dare barge in."
That was true. Murkwater Cave had quite a few traps.
On my first visit in the game, I had been poisoned, then brutally beaten by a mob.
"My lads told me about your fight with him. If we actually came to blows, I probably wouldn't be a match for you either." Patches rested a hand on my shoulder. "So there's a deal I'd like to discuss with you."
"A deal?" I asked in confusion.
"In a couple of days, one of Godrick's caravans will be coming up from the Weeping Peninsula. We'll intercept it along the way and pull off a nice little heist!" Patches took his hand away. "Truth is, I've had enough of being a bandit and robbing people... Too risky, after all."
"Then why are you still..."
"Heh heh. I want to go straight and open a shop. Need some starting capital, don't I?" Patches leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Besides, I've got a bunch of lads under my wing. Before I leave, I'd like to leave them something so they can get by."
"Well..."
"Seeing as we saved you, how about doing us a favor? Then we'll call it even."
-The sly old fox. If I refused, I'd probably never hear the end of this debt.
I could only sigh. "But... I'm not as strong as you think. I might even hold you back."
I wasn't lying about that.
Even now, whether it was the fear lingering within me or the guilt of taking another person's life... Death still haunted my heart, like a wad of cotton stuffed into my chest, leaving it tight and my thoughts tangled.
Perhaps Patches thought I was simply scared. He patted my shoulder confidently. "No worries, no worries. All you have to do is help throw them into disarray. Another pair of hands always helps."
"Th-then, all right." I reluctantly agreed.
Patches nodded in satisfaction. "Heh heh. Long live communication!"
"Come on, lads. Welcome our new mate." He clapped his hands, and a small band of bandits immediately approached from the cave entrance.
Uh... If I'd insisted on refusing just now, or even started a fight, would this bunch have rushed in and executed me on the spot?!
A chill ran through me. Sure enough, this "mad baldy," Patches, was an even slyer old fox than I had imagined.