Another sleepless night passed, and daylight arrived in the blink of an eye. The Tarnished opened his eyes, studied his palm, then looked up at the sky, which had returned to normal. He sighed. "It's not hard to understand, but getting better at it really isn't easy."
Sorcery differed from faith. Incantations were more subjective: the stronger your belief, the stronger your incantations naturally became. Sorcery, however, had an entirely different system and its own theories. It leaned more toward scholarship.
"That certainly fits those knowledge-hungry fellows." In just one night, the Tarnished had grasped what sorcery was: a way to give tangible form to one's understanding. Though it resembled incantations, incantations ultimately borrowed power bestowed by some great being. Sorcery was more like innovation, using the stars as a blueprint, or something else as a foundation, to create entirely new powers.
Both sorcery and incantations had limitations. Incantations required faith, and the power they granted could not exceed a certain threshold. For example, if you believed in the Erdtree and learned its incantations, no matter how powerful an incantation caster you became, you could never surpass the Erdtree itself.
Sorcery's limitation was that its design had to be rigorous. If even one step went wrong, the backlash would be more than an ordinary person could endure.
"I'll take it slowly. There's no rush." The Tarnished sorted out his equipment and continued onward.
The wind at dawn was stronger than it had been at night. Trees swayed, and the ruined wooden shacks creaked in the gusts, as though they might be blown apart at any moment.
"I don't think that wind can blow these little shacks apart completely... hmm? What's that sound?" Faint sobbing mingled with the howling wind, making it rather eerie.
"What, a ghost girl?" The Tarnished followed the sound. The crying came from the shack ahead, where a frail girl in a red hood huddled in a corner. He could see her body trembling slightly.
"Everyone... they've all been grafted... the people who came to the Lands Between with me, who fought for me, all of them..." The girl seemed not to notice the man before her. With vacant eyes, she rambled on about things the Tarnished could not quite understand. Even so, he could tell that she was terrified.
"Hehe... everyone's arms, legs, and heads were cut off... they became part of a spider." The girl muttered those unsettling words, then suddenly looked up at the Tarnished. "Did you know... people who get grafted become like chrysalises?" She sounded close to breaking down, her voice shaking terribly.
Huh? Grafting again? Is this girl a survivor? The Tarnished simply watched the frightened girl without speaking, quietly releasing a cluster of runes that radiated warmth.
"..." Feeling the gentle light and warmth before her, the girl gradually calmed down.
"Well? Feeling a little calmer?" Only after she stopped trembling did the Tarnished speak.
"Are... are you a Tarnished...? Thank you." Her eyes remained dull, but she was doing a little better than before.
"Are you traveling alone? Are you heading toward Stormveil Castle?" the girl asked weakly.
"I am alone, and I am going to Stormveil. Why?"
"Did you believe Mr. White Mask's kind words...? Or do you want to become part of a spider...? If it's the latter, then you're just like me... but I don't have the courage. Having my arms, legs, and head cut off... it's too frightening."
"I want so much to be like everyone else, but I'm too weak... I don't have the courage." The girl began crying again.
"Wait, wait, wait. I've got no interest in being grafted. Calm down." The Tarnished felt a headache coming on. This girl really had been badly traumatized.
"First, I'm not following that damned White Mask's advice, and I'm not going there to become part of some blasted spider."
"Then... then you..." Interrupted, the girl froze.
"I heard there's a king in that castle who no longer looks human. I'm here to hunt him."
"Ah... you're such a brave person... then I wish you luck." The girl admired the Tarnished's courage.
"Oh, right..." The girl looked up at him again. "If you can, please take this child with you... it's too sad for her to stay with someone as cowardly as me. Her name is Kukla. Please treat her well. I can tell she likes you." The girl opened her cloak, and a tiny jellyfish floated out from behind her. It was a Spirit Jellyfish.
"Oh..." The Tarnished looked at the bashful little jellyfish. "You said this child's name is Kukla?"
"Yes... I met her by chance... she seems to be looking for something." As she spoke, the girl nudged the shy little jellyfish forward, pushing Kukla straight against the Tarnished's chest. He caught her securely and looked down, discovering that her spirit body had actually turned a little red.
"Quite a shy one. All right, she can come with me." The Tarnished gently stroked Kukla's head. Spirit Jellyfish were strange creatures that retained some of the thoughts they had possessed in life. They were all children who had died too soon, leaving wishes unfulfilled.
"Then I'll leave her in your care... oh, right. If you see everyone who's become a chrysalis, please pass on a message for me."
"I love you all... I'm still afraid, but sooner or later, I'll become like you... I'm not quite so afraid of pain anymore." A smile tinged with despair appeared on the girl's face. She seemed to have little hope left of living.
Just then, Kukla tugged at the Tarnished's arm from within his embrace, as though trying to tell him something. He glanced at her, then spoke slowly.
"You don't seem to understand why I'm going to Stormveil."
"Huh...?"
"I'm going to kill Godrick."
"..."
"You know what that means." The Tarnished said no more. He merely glanced at the girl before turning to leave.
"What a... brave person... if I were like you... if I could take up a weapon and protect everyone like you..." Of course the girl understood what he meant. She looked at the warm runes the Tarnished had left behind, then buried her face between her knees and curled up again.
The wind on Stormhill was cold and biting, but at that moment, the girl felt warmer than she ever had before.
"You... seem to have brought back a very unusual companion." After the Tarnished reached a new Site of Grace, Melina appeared as well. She looked at Kukla, who was clinging to him, without any change in her expression.
"A girl asked me to look after her." The Tarnished sat down beside the Site of Grace. A little farther ahead lay the tunnel leading to Stormveil, where Margit, the Omen Beast, stood guard.
"You've grown stronger again..." Melina carefully sensed the energy emanating from the Tarnished. He was more powerful than when she had last seen him. To think he could grow like this without absorbing runes, and so little time had passed since their last meeting. It was simply unheard of.
"A warrior has to keep getting stronger." The Tarnished made it sound easy. Melina's expression shifted slightly. "I rather think other warriors... don't grow nearly as quickly as you..."
"Keep talking if you've got more nice things to say. I love hearing them."
"..."
"And now you're silent again." The Tarnished pinched the bridge of his nose. Just as the atmosphere was about to freeze over, Kukla floated toward Melina.
"?" Melina looked utterly bewildered as Kukla extended her tentacles toward her.
"The little girl is saying hello to you, big girl." The Tarnished sounded exactly like an elder at that moment. Melina was at a loss. She had barely interacted with anyone before.
"Just shake her hand." Watching Melina fumble, the Tarnished felt another headache coming on. Where had this sheltered young lady come from? She did not even know the basics of social interaction. If he ever got the chance to meet her parents, he would have to have a proper word with them.
At the mention of shaking hands, Melina's expression briefly became unnatural. "Could you come down a little farther...?" she asked Kukla, crouching down. Kukla wriggled lower until she was level with Melina and held out her hands again.
"..." After looking at Kukla, Melina reached out with her palm facing upward and took her hand.
"?" Watching from the side, the Tarnished found that odd. The girl seemed to be hiding something, apparently to do with her hand. Still, never mind. If she was not going to tell him herself, that meant she had not opened her heart to him, and it would be inappropriate to pry.
After the handshake, Kukla seemed delighted, swimming through the air and flitting back and forth around the Tarnished and Melina.
"So energetic..." Melina naturally knew about Spirit Jellyfish. She felt sorry for these children who had died so young, but there was nothing she could do for them.
"Indeed," the Tarnished replied simply. Seeing that Kukla and Melina were getting along reasonably well, he turned his attention and thoughts toward Stormveil Castle ahead.
"..."
"What are you thinking about?" Melina asked as she watched the Tarnished ponder.
"Which branch of the family is this Godrick from, anyway? Wouldn't his ancestor be so furious he'd crawl out of the tree?"
"He can't..."
"Why not?" Melina's sudden remark left the Tarnished somewhat confused.
"Because he's a descendant of Godwyn..."
"Oh, Godwyn. Then that's... huh? No, wait." Only then did the Tarnished register what she had said, and he jumped in surprise.
"You're telling me that Godrick, who's committing these atrocities with grafting and wreaking havoc in Limgrave, is Godwyn's descendant?"
"..." Melina nodded.
"Unbelievable..." The Tarnished pressed a hand to his forehead. "That nephew of mine was so perfect... how could he have such a disgraceful descendant?"
"My poor nephew. He's gone, and his descendants can't even make him proud." Of Marika and Godfrey's children, aside from the Omen brothers, Godwyn had been his favorite. Brave and decisive, he possessed his mother's composure and gentleness... though Marika was ruthless toward outsiders... as well as his father's easygoing nature. He was the perfect child, inheriting the best of both parents, and unquestionably the next leader.
Yet he had suddenly died, and his descendant had gone on to commit such shameful deeds. It was disgraceful. Godrick's actions were embarrassing enough for a member of the Golden Lineage, but he was also descended from Godwyn, the perfect eldest prince. That made it even more outrageous.
"Godrick... was born terribly weak, without the great strength of his ancestors... but the glory the Golden Lineage bestowed upon him wouldn't allow him to remain so ordinary. So he chose grafting..." Melina explained slowly.
"Oh, so this fellow isn't just weak in body. There's something wrong with his mind, too. I'd like to see for myself just what a mess he's made of himself." The Tarnished frowned and looked toward Stormveil Castle.
Before you continue