Within the castle, beneath the earth

"What brought you to Stormveil Castle? Were you here to challenge Godrick too? You seem to have caused quite a stir." Nepheli stood with one hand on her hip, a faint smile on her lips. She had only managed to enter after noticing that the Omen guarding Stormgate Tunnel had vanished. There were far more soldiers than she had expected, though. Most were little more than useless bodies filling the ranks, but there were brave warriors among them, such as the Banished Knights. A pity they served the wrong master.

It was thanks to the man before her storming into Stormveil so openly that she had escaped her predicament. Her first thought had been to join the attack from behind and wipe out Godrick's accomplices.

The Tarnished nodded in answer to Nepheli's question, but her expression darkened. "If you mean to challenge Godrick, you can call on me. That wretch has committed such atrocities through grafting... It's no conduct befitting a king. He has defiled the winds beyond measure... Even if I intervene, I believe my foster father will turn a blind eye."

"I appreciate the offer. I'll call on you if I need help."

"Sorry, I've talked too much. Well then, since we're both Tarnished, let us trust our own guidance and press onward. I believe our paths will one day lead to the Elden Lord's throne." With that, Nepheli waved goodbye to him.

"..." The Tarnished silently watched Nepheli walk away. He felt there was more to her identity than met the eye.

"Nepheli Loux... Storms... The Storm Lord, Hoarah Loux." The Tarnished's gaze gradually sharpened.

"You old barbarian, you really do get around. Fine, then. I'll look out for this little girl."

As he entered one of the castle's buildings, a nauseating stench of decay hit him. When the Tarnished looked up at the rafters, he found severed limbs hanging overhead. Some were caked with dried blood; others were still dripping.

"Good. Very good, Godrick." Seeing it with his own eyes only stoked the Tarnished's fury. He was no merciful man, nor did he consider himself the kindly soul Rogier had described, but Godrick's deeds had crossed his bottom line.

He would never allow the bloodline of Godfrey and Marika to sink this low.

He looked toward the portrait on the wall. The man depicted there was intimately familiar to him: Godfrey, the First Elden Lord, whose might had once shaken heaven and earth. In the portrait, he held a great axe, the lion Chancellor and his own gray hair billowing freely, his bearing every bit that of an extraordinary king.

"And you have the nerve to hang Godfrey's portrait here?" The Tarnished suddenly swept his hand to the left. The wall shattered, and the Grafting noble hiding behind it died on the spot.

"What a disgrace to your family, you old barbarian." The Tarnished approached Godfrey's portrait. The more imposing and majestic he appeared in it, the more bitter the irony of its hanging in this reeking room full of severed limbs. A descendant of the Golden Lineage, which had once ruled the Lands Between, was now committing the atrocity of hunting down his own subjects at will.

"...Right, the companions that little red hood mentioned should be somewhere nearby. I might as well look for them." Before leaving, the Tarnished cast one final glance at Godfrey, as though telling him that his unworthy descendant would not survive the day. Just then, a burst of cannon fire shook the portrait, making the entire frame sway.

Few ordinary soldiers guarded the buildings within the castle. Instead, they had been replaced by Grafted Scions, which suited this wretched state well enough. Still, the Tarnished felt some regret that the once-glorious Stormveil Castle had become a storehouse for corpses, even if he and his comrades had been the ones to conquer it.

The interior decor had changed considerably from the old days. Setting aside the blood and battered floors, the overall layout now leaned more toward that of a human king's residence. After all, the Storm Lord had been an utterly unique being in the Lands Between. Yet with so many human warriors serving under him, the castle had still been suited to human habitation.

Thus, even after its conquest by the forces of gold, its exterior and overall structure had changed little. Only some adjustments to the interior had been needed.

When the Tarnished reached a lift, an even fouler stench drifted down from above. He frowned slightly. "The main corpse storehouse must be up there." Once he reached the upper floor, the sight before him confirmed his suspicion.

Countless corpses lay packed across the floor. They were wrapped in rags, the blood that had seeped through dried almost black upon the cloth. Just as the little red hood had said, with their hands and feet cut off, they looked like pupae yet to mature.

Looking farther inside, he saw two vicious dogs gnawing on those pitiful people whose hands and feet had been severed.

"So this is how you dispose of them. Hmph." The Tarnished's gaze turned cold. Avoiding the "pupae" entirely, he cut down both dogs, then walked silently toward the pile. "I wonder if they left any keepsakes." His gaze wandered over the bodies before settling on a piece of red cloth caught between them.

"This is..." The Tarnished carefully drew it out. Judging by its texture, it seemed to be velvet. The red cloth formed a neat square bundle, clearly wrapped around something. He did not open it, merely brushing his thumb gently across its surface.

"...Looks like this is what the little red hood's companions left behind." The Tarnished carefully put it away.

"Rest in peace. I'll deliver this to her." The Tarnished tossed out a cluster of runes, which radiated a gentle light.

"I don't know any incantations for honoring the dead. This is all I can do. An old custom, you might say." During his campaigns long ago, he had inevitably encountered worthy enemies and innocents who had died after being caught up in war. Whenever that happened, the Tarnished would console their departed souls in this way.

Rogier, who had parted ways with the Tarnished some time ago, was making his way through Stormveil Castle alone. Thanks to the Tarnished's valor, most of the soldiers and guards had been drawn away toward him. That worked in Rogier's favor.

"What a powerful man." Rogier shook his head with a rueful smile.

"I heard there's something here connected to the origins of Those Who Live in Death... The Prince of Death’s Face." Rogier leaned in a shadowy corner, pondering. He had heard there was a Deathbed Maiden in Roundtable Hold and had hoped to learn more about Those Who Live in Death from her. After all... The title alone suggested she knew much about such matters. Unfortunately, the lady seemed unwilling to see him. Her door remained closed.

"Ah, perhaps she has her own considerations. She's under no obligation to involve herself in this." Rogier's reason for seeking things connected to Those Who Live in Death was simple. He pitied those wretched souls. Merely coming into contact with something called [Deathroot] caused their souls to be rejected by the Erdtree, leaving them neither human nor ghost. To Rogier, that was cruel.

"I don't know how much I can accomplish... But it's better than never taking a single step... Sorry, D. This is simply who I am." Someone's image flashed through Rogier's mind, and he smiled bitterly.

As Rogier advanced, he occasionally heard soldiers roaring within Stormveil Castle. Clearly, the Tarnished had thrown them into a great panic. "I should have searched everywhere aboveground by now. That thing must be beneath the castle." In fact, while exploring Stormveil, Rogier had often seen bottomless pits. With his abilities, however, jumping into one would only leave him smashed to pieces.

He did not know how long he had searched before finally finding a relatively safe route to the lower levels.

"Hmm, such enormous bats." Just as Rogier was about to venture deeper, shrill screeches rang out. Turning around, he saw two bats larger than people flying toward him. Their gleaming white eyes looked especially unnerving in the dim underground gloom.

"Please don't stand in my way!" Rogier drew his thrusting sword and focused, wrapping magic around its slender blade. He took a long stride forward and thrust, sending azure glintstone power through both bats like a spear.

"Sorry, but I won't let you stop me from moving forward." Rogier smoothly withdrew his sword and gave it a graceful flick, then looked down.

"There are some simple steps here, built specifically to reach the lower level." Rogier knew little about Stormveil Castle. He had only heard that it had once been ruled by the Storm Lord before being conquered by the Lion War King, Godfrey, the first Elden Lord.

"But if these steps were built to transport the Prince of Death's remains, that would make sense."

When Rogier jumped down to the lowest level, rustling sounds came from within. Pools of filthy water covered the ground, and splashing mingled with the rustling.

"Enemies..." Rogier raised his sword and faced the approaching sounds. Only as they drew nearer did he see their source: a swarm of hideous rats, their bodies rotting and their eyes clouded white. The one leading them was enormous. Rogier looked like a child before it.

"This... This aura... It seems I was right." Rogier quickly shook off his shock at the rats' appearance and unleashed a steady stream of precise, efficient magical combat skills, wiping out the swarm. Finally, only the enormous leader remained. It possessed tremendous strength and seemed to feel no pain at all. Now it was nothing but a shell that knew only slaughter.

"Once I find a way, I'll restore Those Who Live in Death to what they were...!" Rogier spoke with firm conviction as he stared at the great rat, which seemed to have become one of Those Who Live in Death after being infected by the Deathroot here. Then his sword punched a dense array of bloody holes into its body.

"Whew... It seems I need to improve my strength as well." He did not know what powerful enemies might lie ahead, but as long as he could still move, he would not give up. Rogier pressed deeper, discovering many human remains. More danger likely awaited him.

A tinkling chime rang around Rogier. The sound was rather pleasant, making him stop and search for its source despite himself. A small Teardrop Scarab crawled out of a corner.

"Is this... a Teardrop Scarab?" Rogier had no intention of killing it. But just as he moved closer, the Teardrop Scarab took off running and eventually tumbled into the vast open area below, landing flat on its back.

"It seems terribly afraid of people... Wait, something's happening!" The moment the Teardrop Scarab hit the ground, the entire lower level shook violently. Countless stones and clouds of dust fell from above, followed by a twisted, rotting monster covered in bark that crashed to the ground.

"What is that?" The creature before him was utterly foul, and the savage, murderous aura radiating from it filled Rogier with fear.

"Roar!!!" The Ulcerated Tree Spirit's bellow shook the heavens. From the corner of its eye, it spotted the tiny Teardrop Scarab below, then raised a hand and smashed it to pieces. The golden, glowing sphere the Teardrop Scarab held shattered as well, and some unknown object happened to fly into Rogier's arms. It seemed to be a book, but Rogier had no time to examine it.

Having dealt with the little bug before it, the Ulcerated Tree Spirit finally turned its attention to Rogier above.

"To think such a terrifying monster was hidden beneath this castle!" Rogier quickly retreated, swinging his magical thrusting sword and summoning several blades of condensed magic behind him, ready to strike when the chance arose.

"I have to find a way to defeat it... I can feel it. What I'm looking for must be just ahead..." Rogier gritted his teeth and attacked the Ulcerated Tree Spirit.

Skilled in sorcery, Rogier stood on high ground and unleashed a barrage of magical combat skills at the Ulcerated Tree Spirit. Thanks to the experience he had accumulated over the years, these repeated magical attacks consumed relatively little of his strength. Enraged, the Ulcerated Tree Spirit brutally smashed the platform beneath his feet.

As Rogier fell, he did not give up. Instead, he leaped onto the Ulcerated Tree Spirit's enormous body and kept swinging a greatsword formed from gathered magic.

"Carian Greatsword!" At Rogier's shout, magic gradually enveloped his thrusting sword, shaping it into a greatsword as large as he was. The magical blade plunged deep into the Ulcerated Tree Spirit, prompting it to reach its twisted arm toward Rogier on its back.

"Damn it... I'm not finished!" Knocked flying, Rogier cast one final spell at the last instant. The greatsword embedded in the Ulcerated Tree Spirit began to spin.

"Roar!!" Racked by piercing agony, the Ulcerated Tree Spirit spewed golden breath laden with death in every direction, its arms clawing wildly. But Rogier's weapon had already bored into its body. At last, the sword burst out and flew back into his hand. The once-gleaming thrusting sword had lost some of its luster.

"Haha... Looks like I'll need to find another weapon that suits me." Rogier dodged the frenzied Ulcerated Tree Spirit. Finally, golden energy began pouring from the great hole his sword had bored through it. Its movements grew stiff until it stood motionless like a great tree.

"Did... Did I do it...?" Just as Rogier was about to lower his guard, the Ulcerated Tree Spirit's body burst apart. A glittering Golden Seed dropped to the ground. "It seems it's over..." Rogier let out a heavy sigh of relief.

With his current strength, a monster like this was about the most he could handle, and only after using every trump card he had.

"I wonder if that Tarnished would have had a much easier time..." Holding the side of his abdomen where the Ulcerated Tree Spirit had struck him, Rogier staggered deeper inside.

"This is...! It really is here."

When Rogier reached the deepest point, an enormous, horribly distorted face came into view. There was nothing beautiful about its features: lifeless eyes, nostrils larger than a person, flies buzzing around it, and pustules covering its surface. Everything about it was revolting.

"Godwyn..." Rogier slowly approached and removed a piece of a pustule with utmost care.

"If I can understand the power within this, perhaps..." Just as Rogier was about to smile at having obtained what he had sought so desperately, a sudden, tearing agony erupted inside him.

"No...! Deathblight Thorns! I was careless. No... I can't fall yet. If I don't get away from the Prince of Death's remains..." Rogier tried to struggle, but the excruciating pain within him, combined with the injuries from his battle with the Ulcerated Tree Spirit, left him unable to move.

Am I going to die here? I never imagined the Prince of Death's deathblight curse would take effect so quickly...

"Sorry, D... Sorry, Tarnished." In what seemed to be his final moments, Rogier thought not of himself, but of his old friend and the Tarnished who might have become a friend in the future.

Just as Rogier felt the deathblight within him about to erupt completely, an immense storm rose from the ground and hurled him high into the air, carrying him away from the Prince of Death.

"What's happening? Why is there such a powerful storm...?" Swept into the sky, Rogier looked around, eventually realizing that a storm had engulfed all of Stormveil. Then it converged on a single place: the location of Godrick, the castle's lord.

"Ah...!" Along the way, Rogier's legs struck a wall, and he fell to the ground. He desperately clung to the floor to avoid being swept into the storm again.

"Was... Was that you...? What an incredible feat... Haha." Though Rogier's legs were badly injured, he had at least escaped the fate of being pierced by Deathblight Thorns.

"May you succeed in slaying the king..." Enduring the terrible pain, Rogier leaned against a wall and gazed toward the place where the storm converged...