The heavily guarded place was called the Gatefront Ruins. As its name suggested, it stood along the normal route to Stormveil Castle. Beyond the outpost lay Stormhill, a hill wreathed in storms-the very reason this region had originally been called Stormhill, and its castle Stormveil.
Naturally, they stationed heavy forces at the Gatefront Ruins, both to guard the road to the castle and to hunt down any Tarnished who passed through, on the orders of Godrick the Grafted. Their king possessed something the Tarnished craved beyond measure, something they could never resist. They would inevitably come... and these soldiers would inevitably offer Godrick fresh limbs.
Clad in old, faded brass armor, a knight held a spear and greatshield as he watched the road ahead. These were soldiers who served Godrick, king of this land. The double-headed battle axe emblazoned on their breastplates represented the Golden Lineage, as well as the strength in which they had once taken pride.
Yes, once.
Now, corrupted by the cruel and tyrannical Godrick, they had long abandoned their former faith in favor of twisted paths. When the leader was crooked, his followers followed suit. Their king had taken the lead in slaughtering residents, severing their limbs, and grafting them onto himself, turning all of Stormhill into a graveyard of body parts.
How could the soldiers under his command be decent men? The Knight Commander who had rebelled at Castle Morne was proof enough. Desire had long since consumed them.
The spear-and-shield knight continued his patrol, but behind him, the situation was quietly changing. One soldier after another fell without a sound. By the time he noticed something amiss, it was already too late. A flash of cold, deadly steel marked the fall of the outpost.
"That really took some effort." Taking down dozens of soldiers, several dogs, and a fully armed knight in one go, even by stealth, was no easy task. Fortunately, many of the soldiers were listless and mentally unstable, giving him an opening. In the end, he had killed the greatshield-bearing knight from behind. Only then could he consider the outpost conquered.
"They're even sending stray dogs into battle." Glancing at his empty bolt pouch, the Tarnished found Godrick's methods increasingly absurd.
The Tarnished surveyed his surroundings, checking for survivors or anything else worth noting. Once he was satisfied, he approached the stone obelisk in the middle of the road. It was identical to the one from which he had obtained the map of the Weeping Peninsula.
"Looks like there's one here too." He reached out and touched it. As expected, just as on the Weeping Peninsula, golden letters floated into the air before forming a map and flying into his pack. When the Tarnished took the map out again, it had changed completely.
The map had grown larger, and Limgrave's terrain now appeared on it as well.
"But this looks like only half... this is the west, so there must be an eastern section too." The Tarnished studied the half of Limgrave shown on the map. Aside from a few new markings, its terrain seemed little changed from the Limgrave of the past. The only thing that caught his attention was the Evergaol on Stormhill.
"No rush. I've got plenty of time." The Tarnished put away the map and approached a carriage. Calling it a horse-drawn carriage was not quite right-it was drawn by Trolls. Back on the Weeping Peninsula, he had seen Trolls pulling just such a carriage toward Limgrave.
He kicked open the enormous chest aboard it, revealing a sharp greatsword. Just as he had suspected, these chests contained supplies, presumably confiscated from all over Limgrave.
"You really know how to squeeze people dry, Godrick." As he picked up the greatsword, the Tarnished discovered weeds and mushrooms underneath it. The sight left him speechless.
The Tarnished reached the road leading to Stormhill. A new Site of Grace stood conveniently nearby, offering somewhere to rest. Taking the outpost had honestly cost him quite a bit of stamina.
"Stormhill... I wonder if its storms are still like the ones of old." The Tarnished looked toward the hill. Just then, a blue spectral figure appeared before him.
"Hm?" The Tarnished immediately turned his gaze toward the spirit.
"Greetings... Tarnished who crossed the fog to reach the Lands Between..." The spirit gradually solidified until she looked almost like a living person. Judging by her figure, she was a young woman. Under the Tarnished's gaze, the spectral maiden slowly crouched and drew back her hood, revealing her face.
Her shoulder-length rose-gold hair curled slightly at the ends, like gentle waves. Her delicate, fair face bore no hint of emotion. Her eyes were strikingly unusual: gold shimmered in her right eye, showing that she was no ordinary person, nor a Tarnished, while her left eye remained shut... no, it looked more sealed than closed. A black marking stretched from her upper eyelid to the corner of her eye, like a beast's claw holding it shut.
"My name is Melina," the maiden said slowly, her thin lips parting. "I would like to offer you an accord..."
"This isn't our first meeting, is it?" the Tarnished asked Melina. "You were the one who treated me in the Stranded Graveyard and left me that Crystal Tear flask, weren't you?" Her presence was almost identical to the last faint trace he had sensed back then.
"I didn't expect you to have been awake already..." Melina's words indirectly confirmed that it had been her.
"Ha, that makes things easier. I've been looking for you. Go on, what accord did you have in mind?"
"Do you know of the Finger Maidens...? They serve the Two Fingers, offering aid and guidance to the Tarnished." Melina's voice was calm, with little variation in emotion, and she spoke at an unhurried pace.
"A little." The Tarnished nodded and listened patiently. Varre had told him something about them.
"But you have no maiden at your side... I can fulfill their role, turning runes into strength for you... so long as you seek the Elden Ring, this will surely benefit you..."
Absorbing the power of runes... Honestly, he did need that power. For some reason, ever since his revival, he had been unable to absorb it on his own. The cause did not seem to lie with the Erdtree. Rather, something appeared to have changed within his body.
"So I would ask for your help... take me to the foot of the Erdtree." Melina looked steadily at the Tarnished.
"All right. I accept."
"...This seems to have gone remarkably smoothly..."
"I'm just repaying your kindness." Melina's treatment and the Crystal Tear flask had helped him enormously, and would continue to do so in the future. That was why he had agreed so readily.
"You needn't concern yourself with that... Torrent chose you. I merely lent a hand."
"Torrent?" Another new name. Who was that? He could not recall knowing anyone called Torrent. Then Melina took a ring from her pocket.
"This is called the Spectral Steed Whistle... it can summon the spirit of a horse named Torrent."
"Oh... so Torrent's a horse..." How strange. Why would a horse choose him? The Tarnished accepted the whistle, slipped it onto his hand, and immediately blew it. Soon, a Spectral Steed with two horns and a body as sturdy as an ox shook its head and walked toward him.
"Is this an ox or a horse... an ox-horse?" The Tarnished stroked Torrent's coat. Its appearance had genuinely surprised him. Could this Spectral Steed be a Misbegotten too?
Torrent snorted and nuzzled against the Tarnished's hand, looking quite happy.
"Torrent is very fond of you... please treat it well," Melina said as she rose to her feet.
"I don't know why it chose me, but since it did, I certainly won't mistreat it." Torrent was not especially large, but it was powerfully built, every bit the equal of the Tree Sentinel's horse or those ridden by cavalry.
"You said you could turn runes into strength for me, right?"
"Yes... if you wish, please touch my hand. Just for a moment." Melina extended her right hand, palm upward, her movement somewhat awkward. The Tarnished paid it no mind. Once he touched her palm, she began chanting an incantation. Within moments, the runes he had collected from the enemies he had slain over the past several days merged completely into every part of his body.
A golden light flashed through his eyes, then faded. His speed, stamina, and strength all underwent tremendous changes.
"There... the runes have now merged into your body."
Spreading his arms, the Tarnished felt the surge of strength within him. It was good, but not enough. He was still far from his former peak, and his ultimate goal was not merely to regain that peak, but to surpass it. For that, this much strength was nowhere near enough.
"..." Melina watched the Tarnished in silence. While turning the runes into his strength, she had sensed a very strange power within him. She could not describe it, and her experience seemed insufficient to uncover its source. It merely felt familiar, yet she could not put a name to it.
"That was a huge help," the Tarnished thanked Melina, then added, "My journey might be a long one. I may not be able to take you to the foot of the Erdtree very soon."
"That is fine... so long as you truly intend to reach the Erdtree..." Melina gently shook her head.
"Understood." The Tarnished swung himself onto Torrent. "I'll need strength to reach the Erdtree. I have to make use of everything I can, and hunting for treasure is part of that." He turned toward Melina with a smile.
"..." Melina said nothing. "If you need me... visit any Site of Grace." With that quiet farewell, she dissolved into blue light and flew into the Grace.
"She really doesn't say much... but that was quite a sight. She can actually dwell within Grace. Her identity really must be something special." Though anyone could travel through Sites of Grace, only those with exceptionally potent golden blood could truly dwell within them. Even Godfrey, a king, had never done so. In the Tarnished's memory, only Queen Marika and Godwyn the Golden had managed it.
"Come to think of it, that old barbarian really had rotten luck. Hahaha!" It was rather funny. Godfrey had once tried to merge with a Site of Grace as Marika did, only to be thrown out the very next moment. That had been a once-in-a-lifetime sight.
"Still... everyone I've met along the way seems to be someone extraordinary." First came Saint Trina, then a spectral maiden who could wield pure Erdtree incantations and dwell within Grace.
"It's time..." He looked at the sturdy Torrent beneath him, then toward nearby Agheel Lake, where the flying dragon lurked.
"Torrent, how about a dragon-hunting feast to welcome you aboard?" The Tarnished patted Torrent's head, his tone light, though his gaze toward Agheel Lake brimmed with killing intent.
"Snort, snort!" Torrent raised its head, clearly eager to give it a try.
"All right... let's go!" As the Tarnished flicked the reins, Torrent shot toward Agheel Lake like an arrow loosed from a bow.
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