The chapter opens with a still and eerie calm over the broken-down church. The air is thick with the weight of time, and faint moonlight streams through the shattered stained-glass windows, casting fractured beams of color on the dilapidated stone floor. The Tarnished, in his silent vigil, stands above Mori's unconscious body. He crouches, inspecting the unfamiliar stranger with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, his gauntleted fingers tracing over the contours of Mori's unfamiliar clothing and armor. After a few moments, he stands again, moving back to his original spot near the wall, waiting patiently for this stranger to wake.
Hours pass, and the world outside grows darker. Night falls upon the Lands Between, the sounds of distant wildlife echoing through the night air, but inside the church, it remains deathly silent—until Mori stirs.
With a sharp inhale, Mori's eyes snap open, his instincts kicking in immediately. He flips backward in one fluid motion, landing gracefully on his feet, his eyes darting around, scanning the ruined church for any signs of danger. His gaze quickly locks onto the two figures standing nearby—the armored Tarnished and the cloaked merchant, Kale, who sits near a dim campfire.
Mori, relaxing slightly, raises a hand and waves casually. "Yo," he says, a small smirk tugging at his lips. The tension he expected to find is absent, and the two figures don't seem hostile. Kale, ever the calm merchant, raises his head slightly and offers a simple reply, "Hello."
Without hesitation, Mori approaches the duo. "So, what are your names?" he asks casually, his tone curious but relaxed. "I'm Mori, by the way."
Kale, adjusting the pouch at his side, nods politely and responds, "The name is Kale. Just a simple merchant trying to survive in these strange lands. And this armored fella over here," Kale gestures toward the silent figure, "is the Tarnished."
Mori raises an eyebrow, tilting his head in confusion. "Tarnished? What's a Tarnished? And where exactly are the 'Lands Between'?"
Kale's eyes widen slightly, genuine confusion flickering across his face. "You don't know what a Tarnished is? Nor where the Lands Between are? That's… strange. Every living being here should know where they are. These are the Lands Between, a world of great power and ruin," Kale explains, looking Mori up and down as if trying to figure out where this strange man came from.
Mori shrugs off the question nonchalantly, his demeanor unbothered by the merchant's confusion. "Guess I'm just not from around here," he says casually, turning his attention to the Tarnished. "So, why are you so quiet?" he asks, his tone teasing. The Tarnished simply grunts in response, his eyes never leaving Mori, as if silently assessing him. Mori smirks and chuckles. "Alright, Piccolo, I get it. You're the silent type."
Kale chuckles lightly, amused by Mori's banter. "From what I've gathered, the Tarnished doesn't talk much—if at all. Seems to prefer action over words."
Mori nods, filing that information away for later. He stretches his arms above his head and glances around the ruined church. "So, what are you two doing here anyway?"
Kale takes a deep breath, settling back against his campfire. "It's a long story, stranger. The Lands Between… they're in a state of decay. The Tarnished here seeks to become the Elden Lord, to restore order to this broken world. It's a dangerous journey, full of trials and enemies beyond imagination. Only the strongest can make it."
Mori listens carefully, his arms crossed as he takes in Kale's words. He gives a short nod when Kale finishes. "Right… sounds like fun. Might as well stick around for a bit. Got nothing else to do anyway." He glances at the Tarnished. "So, when do we head out?"
The Tarnished, without a word, raises a hand and points toward the sky where the last sliver of moonlight begins to fade. Mori follows his gaze, understanding immediately. "At sunrise, huh?" he mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.
Without another word, Mori walks over to a corner of the church and sits down. Crossing his legs, he closes his eyes and begins to meditate, focusing on his body and his Ki. In this strange world, far from the Earth he knew, he feels a subtle shift in the flow of his energy. It's slower, harder to gather—almost as if the very fabric of this world resists him. His brows furrow in concentration as he works to reassemble his Ki, drawing it back to him and refining it, preparing for whatever challenges might lie ahead.
As the night wears on, the three remain in their respective spaces—the Tarnished standing ever-vigilant, Kale resting by his fire, and Mori, lost in meditation, rebuilding his power. Hours pass in silence, broken only by the faint sounds of the night outside.
Eventually, the first rays of sunlight pierce through the broken windows of the church, illuminating the cracked stone and casting long shadows across the floor. Mori opens his eyes and rises to his feet. He stretches, feeling the familiar surge of Ki flowing through him, albeit slower than usual.
He glances over at the Tarnished, who is already prepared for the journey ahead, standing near the church's entrance, ready to move. Mori walks over, offering a casual wave to Kale. "Stay safe, merchant."
Kale nods. "You as well, Mori. May the lands treat you kindly."
Mori grins. "Let's hope so." He turns to the Tarnished, who gives him a silent nod before the two step out into the morning light, leaving the broken church behind.
As they walk, the eerie landscape of the Lands Between unfolds before them—a place both hauntingly beautiful and filled with danger. Mori can feel the weight of this world pressing down on him, but instead of fear, he feels excitement building in his chest.
This place… this world… there was something about it that called to him, something deep and primal. And Mori couldn't wait to see what it had in store.
The morning sun climbs higher, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape as Mori and the Tarnished walk side by side down a worn path leading into the unknown. The air is heavy with an eerie stillness, broken only by the occasional distant cry of some unseen beast lurking in the Lands Between. Their journey had been quiet so far, mostly filled with the sounds of their boots crunching against cracked earth and gravel, with Mori's occasional attempts to spark a conversation.
"So... you ever talk much?" Mori asks again, glancing over at the silent warrior beside him. "Or are you one of those strong, silent types?" His words hang in the air without a response, the Tarnished continuing to walk as though he hadn't heard him at all.
Mori sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets as they press on toward what appears to be a ruined village in the distance. The air grows colder as they approach, the faint smell of decay lingering as the outline of half-destroyed houses and crumbled walls comes into view. Mori's eyes narrow, scanning the area for any signs of life—or trouble.
As they near the outskirts of the ruined village, Mori notices what seems to be a lone soldier, dressed in battered armor, standing near the entrance. Thinking that perhaps they could get some information, Mori raises his hand and calls out, "Hey, pal! Got a moment?"
The soldier's head snaps toward Mori, and for a brief second, their eyes meet. But instead of responding, the soldier lets out a guttural growl and charges, brandishing a rusted sword. Mori's eyes widen in surprise, his body instinctively dodging the swing of the blade. "Whoa, hold up! I just wanted to talk!" he exclaims, confusion etched on his face.
With a swift motion, Mori counters the attack with a powerful kick, sending the soldier flying backward. The impact of the blow sends a shockwave through the ruined village, kicking up dust and alerting the rest of the soldiers hidden among the crumbling buildings. From the shadows, more soldiers emerge—ragged, wild-eyed, and all brandishing weapons aimed at the two travelers.
"Well, guess they didn't feel like talking either," Mori mutters as he glances toward the Tarnished, who unsheathes his weapon with a slow, deliberate motion, his expression unchanging.
The soldiers rush forward, weapons raised and ready to attack. Mori cracks his neck, a grin forming on his lips. "Alright, I guess we're doing this," he says, before launching into action. With a burst of speed, Mori dashes forward, effortlessly dodging the wild swings of the attacking soldiers. His hands move in a blur, delivering precise strikes and kicks that send the attackers sprawling into the dirt.
The Tarnished, moving with silent grace, cuts through the soldiers with an efficiency that borders on brutal. His weapon swings in deadly arcs, cleaving through armor and bone with ease. Despite the chaos, his face remains calm and focused, as if the battle is nothing more than a routine task.
Within moments, the two have dispatched the entire group of soldiers, leaving the village eerily silent once again. Mori dusts off his hands and looks around at the bodies scattered across the ground. "That was almost too easy," he says, glancing over at the Tarnished. "These guys were barely a warm-up."
Without a word, the Tarnished motions for Mori to follow, leading him deeper into the village. They walk in silence, the remnants of the battle fading behind them as they come to a clearing. In the center of the clearing, hovering slightly off the ground, is a glowing yellow stone—radiating with a faint, ethereal light.
Mori's eyes widen at the sight of the stone. "Whoa, what the heck is that?" he asks, stepping closer to it. The stone pulses with a soft glow, its energy drawing him in. Mori reaches out to touch it but hesitates, looking over at the Tarnished for some kind of sign.
To Mori's surprise, the Tarnished simply sits down in front of the glowing stone, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Mori raises an eyebrow but shrugs and decides to follow suit, sitting down beside him. The moment he settles in, he notices something strange. A thick fog begins to roll in from nowhere, enveloping the area and shrouding the world around them.
Mori tenses for a moment, ready for an ambush, but before he can act, a figure materializes from the fog—a woman draped in simple, yet elegant clothing, her face calm and serene. Her brown hair is tied back, and she radiates an otherworldly presence. Mori stares at her, wide-eyed, before glancing at the Tarnished, expecting him to attack or at least react. But the Tarnished remains perfectly still, showing no signs of alarm.
"Huh, so she's not a threat?" Mori mutters to himself, relaxing his guard. He decides to focus inward, using the opportunity to continue meditating and gathering his Ki, which still feels sluggish and harder to maintain in this strange world.
As he slips into meditation, Mori can vaguely hear the woman—Melina—speaking to the Tarnished. Her voice is soft, carrying a strange weight with each word, but Mori tunes it out, uninterested in their conversation. Something about "grace" and the "Elden Ring," but it all sounded like riddles to him. He shuts out their words, focusing solely on rebuilding his strength.
Minutes pass, and eventually, Mori feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his trance. He opens his eyes to see the Tarnished standing, ready to leave. The woman, Melina, is gone, as if she had never been there at all.
Mori stands, stretching his arms above his head. "What was that all about?" he asks, tilting his head.
For the first time since they'd met, the Tarnished speaks, his voice low and gravelly. "Strength."
Mori blinks in surprise, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, well, looks like you can talk after all, huh?" he says, but the Tarnished simply walks away without responding. Mori shakes his head, amused. "I guess we're moving then."
The two continue their journey, following a path that leads them into an open field. The peaceful scene is short-lived, however, as a group of soldiers suddenly spring out from hiding, followed by a massive, hulking monster—a grotesque creature towering over the soldiers.
Mori sighs, clearly unimpressed. "More soldiers, huh? And a big ugly monster to top it off. Great." He raises his hand, gathering a small amount of Ki into his palm. "Let's make this quick," he says before launching a Ki blast toward the group. The explosion from the blast tears through the soldiers and the monster, leaving nothing but smoldering rubble in its wake.
Without sparing a glance at the carnage, Mori walks on, his hands in his pockets. The Tarnished follows, not missing a step. They come across another glowing stone, this time near two abandoned huts on the side of the path.
Mori looks at it, then back at the Tarnished. "You know, this whole 'glowing rock' thing is kinda weird," he says with a grin. "But I guess we're doing this again?"
The Tarnished nods slightly before sitting down at the stone once more. Mori sighs and follows suit. "Guess I'll just keep meditating while you do... whatever it is you do."
The journey presses forward—two silent warriors walking through a land forgotten by time, bound together by a shared purpose, even if it's still unclear to Mori exactly what that is.
The sun had begun its slow descent, casting long shadows across the barren landscape as Mori and the Tarnished pressed forward. They had walked in silence for hours, traversing open fields until they came upon a winding pathway leading to a massive castle that loomed in the distance. Its towering walls were broken in places, worn by time and countless battles, but it still stood with an air of daunting authority. The wind picked up as they approached, rustling Mori's clothes and the Tarnished's armor, giving the castle an even more foreboding presence.
Ahead, embedded in the ground along the path, was another one of the glowing yellow stones—the graces that seemed to guide their journey through this strange land. Mori glanced at the Tarnished, who had already made his way to the stone, and without a word, sat down to rest at it. Mori followed, sitting beside him and crossing his legs, ready to continue meditating and focusing on replenishing his Ki. It had been a long and arduous process since arriving in the Lands Between, and something about this world made it difficult for him to gather his strength.
As soon as they settled by the grace, the air shifted, and a familiar thick fog began to form around them. Mori sighed, knowing what this meant. He stayed in his meditative state, refusing to open his eyes, as the presence of the woman—Melina—once again materialized before them. He could hear the soft, whispering voice of the mysterious maiden, though he paid little attention to what she was saying.
Melina spoke to the Tarnished, her voice carrying an air of urgency. "I offer you access to the Roundtable Hold, a place of respite, where strength can be honed and allies gathered. It will prepare you for the trials that lie ahead."
But the Tarnished, true to his quiet and resolute nature, shook his head, rejecting the offer. Mori peeked one eye open and saw Melina nod, a faint expression of understanding crossing her face.
"Very well," she said, her form beginning to dissipate. "Perhaps another time, Tarnished. The road ahead will be long and full of danger."
With that, she disappeared into the fog, leaving Mori and the Tarnished alone once more. Mori couldn't help but smirk as he stopped his meditation, his Ki now flowing more steadily than before. "Doesn't seem like you're much for conversation, or fancy rest stops, huh?" he said, standing up and stretching. "Fine by me."
The two of them continued their journey, leaving the grace behind as they made their way closer to the looming castle ahead. The path grew steeper, the winds harsher, but neither Mori nor the Tarnished paid it much mind. They were focused, driven by their separate but intertwined purposes. The landscape around them seemed to grow darker as they approached the castle gates, the sky now painted with hues of deep orange and red, almost as if signaling the coming of something ominous.
As they neared the massive stone bridge that connected to the castle's entrance, the air around them grew still, unnaturally so. The silence was deafening, as if the very world was holding its breath. Mori's sharp instincts picked up on the shift immediately, and he slowed his pace, his eyes scanning their surroundings.
Then, without warning, a booming voice echoed through the air, dripping with disdain and malice.
"Foul Tarnished, in search of the Elden Ring. Emboldened by the flame of ambition…"
Mori stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. His muscles tensed, his senses heightened. The Tarnished, standing beside him, raised his weapon, prepared for whatever was coming.
The voice continued, filled with dark intent. "Someone must extinguish thy flame. Let it be Margit the Fell!"
Suddenly, a figure descended from above, shrouded in smoke and shadow, landing with a heavy thud on the stone bridge before them. The impact sent a cloud of dust swirling through the air, obscuring the newcomer's form for a moment. The Tarnished instinctively raised an arm to shield himself from the dust and debris.
Mori, however, had no patience for theatrics. With a swift motion, he punched the air in front of him, sending a powerful shockwave that cleared the smoke instantly. As the air settled, the figure before them was revealed in full—an imposing figure cloaked in dark robes, with grotesque features that made him seem more beast than man. His gnarled face was twisted in a permanent sneer, and in his hand, he held a massive, gnarled staff that pulsed with a faint, eerie light.
Mori took one look at the figure and scoffed, a grin spreading across his face. "Wow, you are quite ugly, huh?" he said, his voice filled with mockery.
The creature, Margit the Fell, snarled at Mori's words, his eyes glowing with rage. He raised his staff high into the air, his voice booming once more. "Impudent wretch! Thy arrogance shall be thy downfall!"
Mori simply rolled his shoulders, loosening his muscles as he prepared for the fight ahead. He could feel the tension in the air as the Tarnished readied himself beside him, their silent understanding growing in the face of this new threat. Margit was powerful—Mori could sense that much—but after the bizarre encounters they had faced so far, Mori was eager for a real challenge.
the three of them facing off, the tension rising as Mori and the Tarnished prepare to take on Margit the Fell.
The air thickened with the weight of impending battle as Margit the Fell stood before them, towering and monstrous. His grotesque form, with twisted horns and eyes burning with malice, radiated power that seemed to warp the very atmosphere around him. Mori could feel it—a pressure far different from the usual foes he encountered. But it didn't faze him; if anything, it intrigued him. He craved excitement, and Margit promised to be a source of it.
As the wind howled through the canyon leading up to the massive castle, the eerie stillness of the land was shattered by the growl of Margit's voice. His grip on the crooked staff tightened as he pointed the gnarled weapon toward Mori and the Tarnished.
"Thou art unfit to even touch the Elden Ring," Margit snarled, his voice reverberating off the stone walls. "In thy pitiful defiance, I shall snuff out thy flames."
Mori raised an eyebrow and glanced at the Tarnished beside him. The silent warrior was already crouching into a battle stance, weapon at the ready, his gaze locked on Margit. For a brief moment, Mori smirked to himself. The Tarnished, while stoic and quiet, had a determination that couldn't be ignored, something Mori respected. But it was clear that neither of them was going to back down from this fight.
Mori stretched his neck, loosening his muscles. "You've got a lot of nerve, don't you?" he said, his voice calm but laced with amusement. He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing as if mocking Margit's threats. "Alright then, let's see if you can live up to all that big talk."
Margit let out a furious roar and leaped into the air with a speed that belied his size, bringing his massive staff down with the force of a battering ram. The Tarnished moved first, sidestepping the attack with practiced ease, but Mori stood his ground, meeting the descending weapon with a surge of his own power. He raised his hand, and a shockwave of Ki erupted from his palm, deflecting the blow and forcing Margit back several paces.
The ground cracked beneath their feet from the sheer force of the clash. Mori grinned as the tremors spread through the stone bridge. "That's more like it," he muttered, feeling the adrenaline begin to pump through his veins.
The Tarnished wasted no time, charging forward with his blade drawn, striking at Margit with precise, calculated blows. Margit, however, was no mere brute. He parried the Tarnished's attacks with surprising skill, the clash of steel and magic filling the air. Sparks flew as their weapons collided, the echo of their battle rolling across the barren landscape.
As Mori watched them exchange blows, he noticed something—Margit wasn't just powerful; he was cunning. Every strike, every feint, was laced with dark sorcery. Energy crackled around Margit's staff, and with every swipe, waves of magical energy arced through the air, forcing the Tarnished to keep his distance. But the Tarnished was resilient, dodging and weaving through the attacks with an almost mechanical precision, his movements honed through countless battles.
Mori couldn't just stand by and watch forever, though. His blood boiled for the fight. "You two look like you're having fun," Mori called out, his tone almost teasing as he stepped forward. "Mind if I join?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Mori leaped into the fray, his body flashing with speed as he appeared beside the Tarnished, just in time to block another one of Margit's powerful magical strikes. His hand glowed with a fiery Ki as he caught the staff mid-swing, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground. Margit's eyes narrowed, recognizing the threat that Mori posed.
"Such arrogance!" Margit hissed, retreating a few steps before slamming his staff into the ground. The air around them shimmered, and glowing ethereal blades materialized, surrounding Margit like a deadly halo.
"Ah, hell…" Mori muttered, realizing what was coming next.
With a sudden wave of his staff, Margit launched the blades toward them in a whirlwind of glowing steel. Mori grinned in the face of the onslaught, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He sidestepped one of the flying blades with ease, then leaped into the air, dodging another that whizzed past his head. In a burst of speed, he appeared directly in front of Margit, his fist crackling with energy.
"Hope you're ready for this!" Mori shouted as he unleashed a powerful punch. The blow connected squarely with Margit's chest, sending the creature staggering backward.
Margit roared in fury, but Mori wasn't done. He pressed the attack, following up with a series of rapid punches and kicks, each one infused with his Ki. The force of the blows sent shockwaves through the battlefield, cracking the stone beneath them. Margit, though powerful, was struggling to keep up with Mori's sheer speed and strength.
The Tarnished, seeing an opening, lunged forward and slashed at Margit's side, his blade glowing with a faint golden light. The strike cut deep, causing Margit to stumble. Mori glanced over at the Tarnished and nodded in approval. They were working well together, even without speaking a word.
But Margit wasn't finished. With a pained growl, he raised his staff once more, summoning dark energy from the very ground beneath him. The air around them grew heavy with the weight of his sorcery, and the ground began to tremble violently.
"This ends now!" Margit bellowed, his voice echoing with malevolent power.
Mori narrowed his eyes. He could sense the immense energy Margit was gathering, and it wasn't something they could afford to ignore. He took a deep breath and focused, channeling his own Ki to match the growing storm of energy around them.
"Not today, big guy," Mori muttered.
As Margit prepared to unleash his final, devastating attack, Mori acted. He surged forward in a blur of motion, appearing directly in front of Margit with his fist glowing brighter than before. With a roar of his own, Mori slammed his fist into Margit's staff, shattering the weapon in a blinding explosion of energy. The force of the blow sent a shockwave through the battlefield, knocking Margit to the ground.
The Fell Omen gasped in disbelief, his form flickering as the dark magic sustaining him began to unravel. He let out one final, defiant growl before his body disintegrated into ash, carried away by the wind.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Mori dusted off his hands and glanced at the Tarnished, who had sheathed his weapon. "That was…fun," Mori said with a satisfied grin. "You're not bad yourself."
The Tarnished simply nodded in acknowledgment, his expression as unreadable as ever. Mori chuckled to himself and looked toward the castle ahead.
"So, that's it then? We're off to storm the big scary castle now?" he asked, though there was no doubt in his voice.
The Tarnished said nothing, but the determined look in his eyes told Mori everything he needed to know.
With the pathway now clear, the two of them began their ascent toward the castle gates, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.