Chapter no.42 Of Magic and Miracles, of Gods and Knights
Naruto felt a little lightheaded at Rickert's firm but amused,
No. "You're funny. C'mon, dude, teach me magic. You're from Vinheim, right?"
Rickert chuckled dryly, setting aside the hammer he'd been turning over in his hands. "Hrm? I think you're mistaking Vinheim for a single school of thought. It's a city, not a cult. We have smiths, battlemages, archivists, and more than a few eccentric lunatics. I was trained to handle magic, yes but not to wield it the way sorcerers do."
Naruto blinked. "Wait... so you're not a sorcerer?"
Rickert raised an eyebrow. "I'm a blacksmith, boy. One of the best Vinheim had, back before I threw myself in here. I didn't spend my days poring over dusty scrolls, I spent them hammering, tempering, binding sorcery into steel. If you were hoping for a lecture on soul geometry or catalyst matrices, you're out of luck."
Naruto frowned, scratching his head. "Then why did Andre send me here? He said you'd help."
"Hah. That sounds like Andre." Rickert reached beside him and pulled out a weathered scroll bound in blue silk. "He must think you've got potential. Or, more likely, he knows how we work in Vinheim."
"What's that mean?"
Rickert held the scroll out. "We don't theorize. We don't study. We fiddle. We forge. And eventually if you're stubborn enough, it works. Andre sending you to me means he thinks you'll figure it out on your own."
Naruto stared at the scroll like it had personally betrayed him. "You mean he sent me all the way to a flooded cursed city… for a crash course in trial and error?"
"Never said the path of sorcery was elegant."
Naruto snatched the scroll. "You could've just told me this from the start, y'know."
"And spoil the moment? Where's the fun in that?" Rickert's smirk widened just enough to be punchable. "Can you really blame me? Most of my days down here are just me, the fog, and a whole lot of drowned stone."
Naruto let out a dramatic groan, flopping onto the stone stair. "If I were you, I'd at least have pretended to be a wise old master for a few more minutes."
Rickert chuckled. "You've got a sense of humor. I like that. Alright, let's get to it. Two thousand for Soul Arrow. Four for Heavy Soul Arrow."
Naruto checked his soul count, then tossed the exact amounts into the tray in front of the cage.
[You have obtained]
[Soul Arrow]
[Heavy Soul Arrow]
[Item: Soul Arrow]
[Description: Elementary sorcery. Fire a soul arrow. Soul arrows inflict magic damage, making them effective against iron armor, tough scales, and other physically resilient materials.]
The writing was intricate and complex but not incomprehensible. In fact, the more he looked, the more the pieces began to click into place. His enhanced INT stat made the glyphs clearer, and within moments, he began to recognize the logic in their construction.
"...Wait. This actually makes sense."
Rickert tilted his head. "Hm? Well, that is unusual."
Naruto looked up, grinning. "Maybe I'm just a genius."
"Don't let it go to your head. You'll need a catalyst to cast anything."
Rickert turned and dug through his cluttered pile of gear, eventually pulling free a small, wand-like object wrapped in cracked leather.
"Five hundred," Rickert said simply.
Naruto handed over the cost without a word.
[Item: Sorcerer's Catalyst]
[Description: Sorcery catalyst used by sorcerers of Vinheim Dragon School. Equip catalyst to use sorceries. Attune sorceries from a scroll at a bonfire. Most sorceries have a limited number of uses.]
With everything set, Naruto sat on the damp stone steps beside Rickert's cage, back against the cold wall. He unrolled the spell scroll, his eyes tracing its precise lines and symbols. It should've been complex. It should've looked like nonsense.
But it didn't.
It made sense. Not the way jutsu made sense. This was different. The symbols felt familiar, like echoes from a language his soul already knew but his mouth never learned. Maybe it was the INT boost, or maybe it was Beatrice's words, still fresh in his head.
Think of your soul not as some poetic metaphor, but as a thing truly seated within the cage of your flesh. A slumbering observer in a decaying shell. Magic is not light or fire. It is the soul's scream against the structure of reality. A will so enlightened it reshapes the world around it. The more you grasp how your soul presses against the walls of this fragile world, the more the world begins to bend in response.
Naruto shut the scroll and set it beside him. His fingers curled around the catalyst and he closed his eyes.
He took a breath, then another, and then he reached inward.
Not for chakra. Not for the warmth in his gut or the coils that danced beneath his skin.
He reached deeper.
The catalyst helping him connect with his soul. There was no sensation. Not at first. No heartbeat. No breath.
Just a flicker.
Like touching still water and seeing a ripple without feeling his finger move. Then everything came rushing in.
He wasn't sitting anymore. He was standing. Floating.
He didn't know.
The world had become a thin, delicate lattice of lines and geometry. The stairs beneath him, Rickert's prison, even the foggy ruins around them—it was all laid bare like a blueprint stitched into space. Every movement left traces of motion, threads of color, the shape of memory echoing against the bones of reality. And at the center of it all was him. Or… something like him. An orange silhouette, thin and bright like fire filtered through amber. It stood on a grid of reality, arms loose at its side. The Darksign burned bright on the side of his neck.
His breath caught, if he was breathing.
Then he saw it.
His cursed right arm pulsed like something was breathing inside it—not with lungs, but with hunger.
Vines tangled with ember-bright veins, crept from the core of his soul and wrapped around the limb like ivy choking the life from an ancient ruin. They weren't just on his arm. They were his arm now—woven into the essence of it. Gnarled, claw-like roots burned with ember-glow beneath the surface, pulsing in rhythm with a flame that shouldn't exist. Its chaotic energy warped the soul-flesh around it, turning it brittle and sharp, like obsidian melting and reforming over and over again. And the vines—those creeping parasites—they were feeding on it. Drinking the Chaos in slow, patient sips, like leeches on a god's carcass.
The whole thing moved when Naruto breathed.
A slow curl. A twitch. A silent writhing beneath his skin, like something remembering that it was once alive.
It wasn't painful. Not yet.
But it watched him—somehow. As if it was aware, like the vines had eyes buried deep in the soul, waiting for the perfect moment. Waiting for Naruto to let down his guard. Waiting for him to forget.
Waiting to become him. And yet, even that wasn't the most unsettling thing Naruto had seen. No, that title belonged to New Londo itself.
The water.
It wasn't just water. It was a veil.
A second skin stretched over a wound so deep it hummed. And under that veil… something stirred. A darkness that had mass. Weight. Hunger. It wasn't sleeping. It was drowning. It was holding something back.
A god? A curse? Something worse?
He didn't want to know. And yet… he couldn't look away.
"Boy." Rickert's voice sliced through the silence. "You're viewing the world as a soul."
Naruto blinked, if blinking was still a thing, and turned toward his echo in the lattice.
"Don't try to understand it," Rickert warned. "Soul sorcery comes from within. Focus on yourself. On the catalyst. Not the world. The more you try to comprehend what isn't yours to grasp, the more you invite madness."
His voice dropped.
"Everything in Lordran has a cost. For magic? It's the mind. The soul starts to see, and seeing becomes yearning. And yearning becomes obsession. That's the beginning of Hollowing, boy. The mind tries to understand the gods' language… and breaks."
Naruto swallowed.
"Pull back. Look to your hand."
He did.
The orange silhouette raised its hand—the same hand holding the catalyst. He could see it now, not as wood, but as a conductor. A bridge between the soul and the world. A focusing lens, like a blade carving the shape of will into air.
So he shaped it. The spell. The arrow. He didn't think. He didn't speak. He just focused. And the arrow formed.
It burned a pale blue, vibrating with energy that wasn't hot or cold—just pure. It hovered for a moment, cradled in his soul's breath.
Then he released.
The arrow shot forward, slicing through the fog of the lattice-world, and the moment it did, he felt his knees buckle.
He opened his eyes. Naruto was back.
Back in his body. His heart was hammering in his chest. His throat was dry. His forehead beaded with sweat. His entire body trembled as the last remnants of soul-light faded from his vision, like the ghost of a dream. The Soul Arrow dissolved in the fog ahead.
Rickert leaned on his bars. "How do you feel?"
"Like I want to take a nap," Naruto muttered, sitting down again with a thud. "A long nap."
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a small piece of Green Blossom, the familiar peppery smell hitting him like home. Before he could chew on it, a hand extended toward him. Rickert held out a smoking pipe, carved from bone and capped in silver. "Proper sorcerer deserves a proper ritual."
Naruto took it, placed the blossom inside, and with a bit of flint, lit it. The smoke curled green and warm around his face. It tickled his nose, stung his lungs just enough to be pleasant. He leaned back against the stone, puffing once, then again.
"Not bad," he muttered, exhaling through his nose.
Rickert chuckled. "You look the part."
A soft chime echoed in his ear.
[Soul Arrow has been attuned. Force Miracle removed.]
He looked at the message. Relief flooded his chest. So he didn't have to see the soul-world every time he cast. But… Even as that thought comforted him, something in the back of his mind whispered.
You want to see it again.
Because the moment he glimpsed that place, that lattice of reality, that abyss beneath the water… he knew. And that knowing—it hooked into him. Just a sliver. Just enough to make him need more.
He exhaled a final puff of green smoke and closed his eyes.
Not to rest.
But to feel his chakra again. To remind himself he was still Naruto Uzumaki.
Still him.
For now.
"I'm going to take a walk. Kill some stuff. Focus."
Rickert gave a knowing nod. It was a familiar impulse, doing something physical just to remember you still belonged to the world outside your own head.
Naruto began climbing the stairs, footsteps echoing off the damp stone, the sound swallowed by the ever-present fog hanging in the air. He paused at the top, glancing down one last time at the Hollow lying near the cliff's edge.
The creature was staring up at a single beam of sunlight cutting through the gloom.
"Guess even Hollows can be optimists," Naruto muttered.
Then his gaze shifted.
A new path. A darkened archway cut into the far wall, tucked away from the elevator's trail. He tilted his head slightly. "I wonder where that goes."
He snorted to himself. That pretty much summed up his time in Lordran: find a path, poke it, see if it bites. No map. No logic. Just a hunch and the stubborn belief that whatever lay ahead, he could take it.
And honestly? That was the fun of it.
He followed the archway, the path spiraling upward. The stone beneath his feet was cracked, the moss blooming in the crevices dampening each step. The staircase ended at a cage door, its metal bars thick with rust and time. He didn't even test it.
He already knew.
[This door cannot be opened from this side.]
Naruto rolled his eyes at the mental pop-up. Classic Lordran. But unlike some of the magically sealed gates he'd come across, this one felt... normal. No weird aura. No arcane barrier humming with power.
Just iron.
He cracked his knuckles. He had options. Blunt force, wind chakra, or... his newest toy. He reached for the sorcerer's catalyst. Channeling chakra was second nature—warm, thrumming like the breath of something alive. Soul sorcery, though? That was different. It was cold. Clean. Alien. Like light with no heat.
Naruto focused.
He felt the energy pool at the tip of the staff, a chill pressing against his palm as it gathered. A flicker of light shimmered, blue and whisper-thin, dancing like a flame seen through glass. The spell shaped itself, lines forming from memory and will.
His eyes snapped open.
He raised the staff and fired.
The Soul Arrow screamed through the air—a lance of condensed force. It struck the iron bars dead center.
Boom.
Magic detonated on impact, the cage door shrieking as its hinges buckled. The metal warped, twisted, then tore free, slamming backward and skidding across the stone floor in a shower of sparks and rust.
He lowered the staff, grinning ear to ear.
Naruto emerged onto a ledge overlooking a massive, sunken valley, flanked on all sides by jagged, mist-choked mountains. The air here was colder and thinner.n He crouched beside a weathered corpse lying half-buried in the grass. Its armor had long since been destroyed away, but clutched in its curled fingers was a faintly glowing soul. Naruto's hand closed around it, the light vanishing into his palm with a quiet hum as the warmth seeped into his body and then into his inventory.
"Sorry, buddy. You won't be needing that anymore."
Pocketing the find, he pressed forward, letting the narrow ledge guide him along the cliff's edge. The stone cracked underfoot, weeds curling up from between the broken earth. Eventually, the path brought him to what might generously be called a bridge.
It was just a plank of rotted wood.
"Well... that looks safe," Naruto muttered, already stepping onto the plank. "Dattebayo."
He let chakra flow to his soles, feet light, balance perfect. Even as the bridge swayed and groaned beneath his weight, he crossed without breaking stride.
What greeted him on the other side wasn't any better.
A cave loomed ahead, its mouth wide and dark like the hollowed eye of a skull. Naruto slowed, pulling the binoculars from his pouch and scanning the interior. Just barely, he could make out rough wooden scaffolding clinging to the rock—shacks, walkways, supports. A settlement? Or maybe a mine?
Then it hit him.
The smell.
Decay so thick it clung to his tongue and burned the back of his throat. It was death soaked in bile, mold, and shit.
Naruto gagged. "Yeah. Nope. Not today."
He summoned a clone with a poof of smoke. The clone appeared, immediately wrinkling his nose and covering his face.
"Ugh, seriously?! What is that smell?"
"Do your job." Naruto jerked a thumb toward the darkness.
Grumbling, the clone muttered, "We need to form a union," and jogged off into the stench.
Naruto turned away, opting for another path that snaked further along the cliffside. Wind picked up, howling through the crags like ghosts whispering secrets he didn't want to hear. The narrow stone trail led to a proper bridge this time. The wooden planks were mossy and warped, the support vines frayed like they'd been gnawed on by time itself. But Naruto barely glanced at it.
His attention was locked on the structure across the way.
He crossed the bridge, boots thudding softly on damp wood. Reaching the far side, he stepped carefully along the uneven path until the structure came into full view.
That's when he saw them.
Soul drops. Three, maybe four, glowing faintly near what looked like a massive stone altar.
Only it wasn't an altar.
It was a corpse.
Naruto froze.
Massive. Slumped. Wings curled around itself like it had died shielding something.
A dragon.
Its scales were jagged stone, broken in places, revealing withered sinew beneath. The wing membranes were torn, like old parchment burned and left to rot in the rain. Its tail was half-missing, sheared off at the base. One clawed hand rested on a shattered rib, curled tight in the final moments of death.
Naruto stepped closer, his gaze drifting up toward the beast's bowed head. No eyes remained. Just empty sockets where once a gaze might have burned with ancient light.
It wasn't beautiful.
Not like the everlasting dragon he'd seen in his vision. But this... this thing had presence.
A quiet, decaying majesty.
"Damn. You were something once."
As Naruto reached toward the nearest soul drop, his fingers just brushing the glowing fragment, a deep, guttural groan rumbled through the air.
He froze.
Behind him, the massive corpse shuddered.
Cracks split across the dragon's stone-like scales, and from those fractures, a thick, purple miasma began to ooze—bubbling, hissing as it spilled out like venomous fog. The dragon's head jerked with a sickening creak, vertebrae grinding as it slowly began to rise, hollow sockets glowing faintly with baleful light.
"Shit," Naruto hissed, spinning on his heel.
But it was too late.
With a rasping snarl, the undead dragon opened its ruined jaws, and a wave of toxic breath surged outward—thick and choking, a cloud of death that rolled across the stone like living smog.
Naruto leapt back, chakra bursting beneath his feet in a flare of speed, but not fast enough.
The edge of the miasma caught him mid-air, seeping into his skin before he even landed. A sudden message blinked across his vision.
[ Status Effect Inflicted: TOXIC ]
His eyes widened. Then the pain hit. Not like a wound. Not like broken bones or torn muscle.
This was different.
He choked, staggering as he clutched his stomach. It felt like acid had been poured through his veins—like his organs were being peeled away layer by layer. His skin prickled, cracked, and burned from the inside out. Even breathing became a fight as his lungs filled with a phantom rot.
"What the hell?!" Naruto gasped, his voice hoarse.
His knees buckled.
The soul drops shimmered just a few feet away, still glowing gently beneath the haze of poison—taunting him as his vision began to blur at the edges. And the dragon, what was left of it, kept breathing, its hollow eyes fixed on him like a creature too dead to feel hatred... but too cursed to stop.
The shadow clone moved cautiously through the unnatural darkness of the cave, its only source of light coming from the flames flickering along its cursed right hand.
And the smell.
It had been bad at the entrance, but the deeper he went, the worse it got. Thick, choking rot clung to the air, a mix of stagnant water, decayed flesh, and something even fouler. Each breath felt like inhaling disease itself.
The ground was slick, coated in a wet, oozing filth that reflected the orange glow of his flame in a sickly sheen. Patches of moss and fungal growths lined the walls, their surfaces glistening unnaturally, pulsing with some unknown secretion.
"What the hell is this place?"
A sound.
A deep, guttural grunt, echoing from the shadows ahead. The Way of Focality flared, and instinct kicked in a fraction too late.
Something shot out from the darkness.
A massive club, tearing through the air with a whooshing force. The clone barely managed to twist away, chakra surging through his legs as he flashed to the side. And from the shadows it emerged.
A hulking brute of a creature, standing nearly four times Naruto's height. Its grey, leathery skin stretched over thick slabs of muscle, veins bulging beneath its scarred, rough exterior. Its face twisted in a snarl, a mouth full of jagged, yellowed teeth bared in a roar. Small, pig-like eyes glowed with an animalistic fury, set beneath a bald, ridged skull. It wore scraps of fur and tattered leather, held together by makeshift straps. Bits of crude armor—iron bracers, rusted shoulder guards—were haphazardly fastened to its arms. At its waist, belts and pouches dangled, filled with tools, bones, and the occasional severed hand.
And in its massive grip, it held a filthy, splintered club, its surface caked with old blood and jagged patches of bark.
The clone's grip tightened on his kunai.
"Big guy. Fast swing. Looks like a berserker."
No hesitation. He surged forward, kunai swirling with Vacuum Blade, its sharp edge elongating with wind chakra.
A clean strike, aiming straight for the gut.
The kunai sank deep, flesh parting with a wet, sickening tear. Blood burst forth, spraying in a thick, arterial arc, splattering against the cave walls. The stench of iron and rot flooded the air.
The creature staggered—but it didn't fall. Instead, its massive hand shot out, grabbing the clone by the wrist. The grip was like iron, unyielding, vice-like. Naruto immediately tried to wrench free, chakra flaring to enhance his monstrous strength—but the brute didn't budge.
If anything, its grip tightened and then it pulled him in. A sickening crunch as the creature's massive arms crushed the clone into a bone-cracking embrace.
And then... teeth.
The monster's jaws unhinged, its head lunging forward, and in one violent chomp, it ripped the clone's head clean off.
The world vanished in a puff of white smoke.
And this was Naruto's first encounter with the residents of Blighttown.
Naruto didn't have time to process the memories flooding in from his fallen clone. His head throbbed, but the burning sensation tearing through his body screamed louder.
The toxic status was eating him alive.
It wasn't like poison. This wasn't some slow rot or manageable burn—it was as if acid had been injected into every cell. His flesh bubbled, his organs convulsed. With every heartbeat, it felt like his skin was melting off his bones. He sprinted uphill, each step feeling like dragging a corpse, that corpse being himself. He chugged an Estus Flask mid-run, golden light flooding through him, easing the damage just enough to keep his legs moving. Chakra surged through his body as he forced himself to accelerate, climbing the valley's steep wall like a blur.
Just as the dragon's roar surged behind him and the toxic miasma crept up with suffocating speed, Naruto launched himself into the air with a backflip, wind rushing against his face.
Mid-air, he drew his Drake Sword.
The blade ignited with wind chakra the moment it left its sheath, a spiral of cutting air forming around the weapon like a vortex starved for blood. He twisted in the air, eyes narrowing, and drove the blade straight into the dragon's skull.
BOOM.
The mountain shook with the force of the impact. Rock splintered. The gust tore through the valley, blowing the toxic mist back for just a moment. The shockwave shattered debris off the ledges and sent dust into the sky like a bomb had gone off.
And the dragon… barely moved.
Its eyes, clouded and undead, didn't even blink. The beast merely groaned, the sound low and echoing, like the grinding of stone deep beneath the earth.
Naruto's eyes widened in horror.
The dragon's head jerked, and Naruto was flung into the air like a ragdoll. He twisted mid-flight, but the massive jaws opened wide. He threw out shadow clones mid-air, their forms flickering into existence as he kicked off one after another, rebounding in mid-air just as the dragon's teeth snapped shut inches from his heels.
A swipe of its claw followed, narrowly missing as he landed in a controlled roll and sprinted toward the rope bridge.
Behind him, his clones leapt at the beast—blades drawn, war cries loud and they died.
Instantly.
The moment the toxic breath rolled across the cliff again, their bodies shriveled, melted, and popped. Their deaths surged into Naruto's mind like acid, echoing their final sensations—skin boiling, bones liquefying, nerves disintegrating in a storm of corrosive rot.
His breath hitched. His legs almost failed.
Not from pain. From fear.
He pulled out a Purple Moss Clump and shoved it into his mouth.
Nothing.
The toxic effect barely slowed.
Then his eyes darted through his inventory.
[Item: Blooming Purple Moss Clump]
[Description: Potently medicinal moss clump with a flower. Reduces poison and toxin. Restores status. Toxin is a more vicious form of poison which quickly leads to death. Moss clumps without a flower are useless against toxin, and a lack of these moss clumps could lead to an early demise.]
Without hesitation, Naruto crushed the flowering moss between his teeth and swallowed.
The effect was immediate.
A rush of bitter energy surged through his bloodstream like a cleansing fire. He could feel the miasma within him—the acidic rot that had wrapped around his lungs, stomach, kidneys—start to unravel. The toxic sludge was dragged away, ripped apart by the moss's potent chemical counter. His skin stopped burning. The hallucinations faded. His vision cleared.
He could breathe again. "Gods..." he gasped. "I am never touching toxic status again."
One problem gone.
But the other was the dragon. He wasn't stupid. His strikes barely registered. That thing was beyond him right now. But if he couldn't kill it by force... He'd outthink it.
The wooden bridge groaned as Naruto summoned thirty shadow clones along its length, each one spacing themselves with tactical precision. Five of them immediately raised their catalysts, blue light gathering at their tips.
"Now!" one of them barked.
A barrage of Soul Arrows ripped through the air, streaking like blue comets toward the Undead Dragon's grotesque, half-mummified face. The blasts struck true—bone cracked, teeth shattered, and the creature's toxic breath faltered, buying precious seconds.
The remaining clones didn't waste the opening.
All twenty-four turned toward the mountain slope above the dragon.
Hands flashed through synchronized seals.
A collective roar of
"Fire!" echoed as dozens of Soul Arrows surged upward—not to hit the dragon, but to break the mountain.
The sky thundered.
Rock cracked.
The entire cliffside shuddered as the combined force of magic smashed into the crag. Tremors pulsed through the ledge as the overhead stone groaned, then broke.
An avalanche roared to life.
Chunks of jagged mountain broke free, cascading down like the wrath of the gods. The ground vanished beneath dust and boulders as the massive stones slammed into the Undead Dragon's body. One boulder obliterated its wing. Another crashed down on its neck. The rest battered its back, breaking what bones remained.
Naruto, panting, allowed himself a grin. "That should do it."
But then the dust began to shift.
The rubble lifted.
His eyes widened. "No... way..."
The Undead Dragon was rising—slowly, agonizingly, but rising. Its clawed limbs trembled, barely able to hold the shattered weight of the landslide... and yet it did. Its ruined body creaked under the pressure, bones grinding, tendons tearing, but it stood.
And then... that sound.
A low, wet gurgle, like bile bubbling from an open wound.
Naruto's stomach turned.
From its maw, the mist began to gather—purple, vile, living. The dragon exhaled. A wave of toxic miasma surged out like a tsunami of rot, swallowing the bridge in seconds. The wood hissed and melted, eaten away as though dipped in acid. Chains snapped. Boards curled and blackened.
SNAP.
Naruto's instincts screamed.
"RUN!"
He didn't hesitate. Feet pounding on dissolving planks, he raced back, each step a gamble.
Half the bridge gave out beneath him. But Naruto was already moving—leaping from one clone to the next as they threw him forward with bursts of chakra. One launched him like a cannonball, another caught him mid-air and flung him again.
Below, the valley swallowed the bridge whole.
He was falling, then the last clone gave one final shove, hurling him across the broken gap.
Naruto hit the cliff edge, rolled across the dirt, coughing violently as the sharp sting of poison lingered in his lungs. He lay there, winded, staring at the sky.
Then slowly... he sat up.
Across the shattered divide, the Undead Dragon stood—wounded, broken, and glaring. It could not fly, and it could not reach him.
Naruto exhaled, shoulders sagging.
"Safe," he whispered.
Naruto knew he could just walk away. Turn his back on this rotting monstrosity, head down the slope, and return to Rickert's cage with his sanity and maybe his lungs intact. That would've been the logical choice. The safe choice. But Naruto didn't move because this wasn't about logic. It wasn't about survival.
It was about pride.
He'd seen that thing, stood face to face with it, and walked away breathing. That wasn't something you just let go. This wasn't just another Hollow, or beast, or corrupted knight. This was a kill, and it was his.
The question was... how?
None of his attacks had done real damage. The avalanche had staggered it. The Soul Arrows irritated it. But the Undead Dragon still stood. Shambling. Breathing. Existing.
Even though it shouldn't have.
Its body was held together by rot and instinct. Its wings were ribbons of bone and shredded flesh. Its chest caved with every movement, ribs visible beneath the sagging remains of its hide.
Something was keeping it together. Something unnatural.
Naruto exhaled slowly, grounding himself. "Time to find out what you really are."
He retrieved the spell scroll for Heavy Soul Arrow, unfolding it as he settled onto the grass. The runes glowed faintly in the wan light, the structured sorcery carefully etched into the parchment.
[Item: Heavy Soul Arrow]
[Description: Soul sorcery emphasizing power. Fires a Heavy Soul Arrow. A more powerful but slower sorcery. Difficult to use due to long cooldowns and limited castings.]
As he committed the scroll's knowledge to memory, he reached for his catalyst, resting the worn wood against his palm.
And then he let go.
The world peeled away.
Just like before, Naruto slipped beneath the surface of the world—into that thin, fragile membrane of reality where everything was laid bare.
A soul's perspective.
The ruins disappeared. The cliffside melted. Even the air seemed to vanish, replaced by a lattice of light and shadow, geometry and memory. The ground was a grid of luminous threads. Time had no meaning here. Movement was just thought shaped into form.
There, across the broken divide... the dragon.
Its soul didn't pulse. It leaked.
Rot pooled around it like vapor—miasma leaking from every crack in its withered form. Where its body was whole, the soul clung to flesh like dying embers. Where the rot had claimed it, the soul was peeling away, unable to hold on.
But there on its chest, something burned bright.
A single scale. Stone-like. Out of place. Embedded just above the creature's mangled heart.
And it was alive.
From this soul-sight, Naruto could see the scale wasn't just a chunk of armor—it was a well. A gravitational center for the dragon's soul, pulling threads of it inward, keeping it from dispersing.
The miasma was killing the dragon. But that scale... it was cursing it to keep standing.
The moment Naruto recognized it, the silhouette of the dragon twitched. Like it had felt him see it.
He clenched his catalyst.
No time to waste.
The soul scroll burned away in his inventory as the system message pinged in the void:
[Heavy Soul Arrow has been attuned. Heal Miracle removed.]
Power surged through the catalyst. Different than before. Thicker. Slower. Denser. He focused, pressing his will into the weapon, shaping the spell with his soul. The weight grew. It pulsed like a dying star. Then, when he couldn't contain it anymore, he fired. The Heavy Soul Arrow tore across the soul-grid like a hammer wrapped in light. Its core swirled, a corkscrew of compressed essence spinning wildly as it slammed into the dragon's side.
BOOM.
The shockwave rippled through the fog.
The dragon jerked.
Its shoulders reeled back, soul-shell shuddering, breath catching in its massive chest.
"Finally got a reaction out of you."
But it wasn't enough. The beast still hunched protectively, its chest curled forward, hiding the scale.
Hiding its weak point.
Naruto spun the catalyst lazily and tapped it against his shoulder. "Alright," he muttered, eyes fixed on the monster. "Guess I'm gonna have to get creative."
And he smiled.
With a hand seal, a shadow clone popped into existence beside him, arms folded and expression already unimpressed.
"You can't be serious," the clone deadpanned.
"I am," Naruto said. "Chakra and soul energy can work together. Beatrice proved that already. If we can stabilize the fusion, this might be enough to take down that thing."
The clone rolled his eyes. "Yeah, great. And when I blow up, what'll you do? Cry over the smoldering crater where my face used to be?"
"You're a clone," Naruto said, shrugging. "If you die, I'll eat a bowl of miso ramen in your honor."
"Wow. Touched."
But the clone grumbled and got to work, muttering curses under his breath. A second clone appeared beside him, both of them moving into position. One raised the sorcerer's catalyst and began focusing soul energy into it. The other positioned behind, channeling chakra through the clone's hands into the base of the staff, keeping the balance, adjusting for flux.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then...
CRACK.
The air itself warped. The catalyst pulsed with jagged light, tendrils of raw power snapping out like lightning, spiraling with unstable momentum.
A scream of energy tore through the air. And the clones exploded.
Naruto winced as smoke burst outward, the feedback slamming into his chest like a wave. The memory hit him a second later.
Chakra and magic amplified one another's power in a way that made sense—at least, once you understood how each worked. Soul sorcery was born from the soul imposing its will upon reality, using the catalyst as a conduit to shape that intent. Chakra, on the other hand, was reality. Formed from the union of spiritual and physical energy, it was woven into the very fabric of the world. The soul found a faster route to impose itself, and the result was a raw, volatile amplification.
One that Beatrice had managed to use.
And while Naruto was nowhere near the level of that Witch—not by a long shot—he had something else she didn't: shadow clones, stubbornness, and all the time in the world to trial-and-error his way through it.
The Vinheim way.
Hours passed. Thousands more clones shattered from magical backlash, their deaths leaving behind fragments of experience—angles of failure he could analyze and fix. By the time dusk began bleeding across the mountainside, Naruto stood alone on the ledge, breathing slowly, his boots firm in the soil.
He was ready.
Two clones stepped beside him once more.
No hesitation.
One took the catalyst and began casting Heavy Soul Arrow, letting the dense energy churn slowly, like thick thunderclouds coiling within the staff. The other clone placed both hands on the first's back, shaping the chakra that Naruto fed him in bursts—slow at first, then rising, like a tide swelling beneath the surface.
Naruto focused everything he had into this one attempt.
He fed his chakra directly into the spell, through the stabilizing link of the second clone, while simultaneously syncing with the pulse of the soul energy being formed. The staff rattled in their hands, but held firm. At first, the energies fought again—opposing frequencies grinding against one another like tectonic plates. Light fractured along the catalyst's runes. Steam hissed from its seams.
But this time... Naruto forced it.
He adjusted the flow, not trying to mix the two directly, but to let one ride the other.
The result? The catalyst didn't crack this time.
It hummed.
Power gathered at the tip, spiraling into a deep cerulean sphere, orbited by fine rings of white light and shimmering threads of chakra that glowed like burning wire.
The spell wasn't a Soul Arrow anymore.
It was something else.
Naruto's grin returned—feral and proud.
At that exact moment, the dozen clones surrounding Naruto loosed their Heavy Soul Arrows. The sky lit up with streaks of blue energy, the barrage hammering into the Undead Dragon's skull like thunderous hail. The decayed beast reared back with a guttural groan, its massive head twisting away from the barrage—exposing its chest. And more importantly... the scale.
Naruto didn't hesitate as he unleashed the spell.
But what erupted from his cracking, overburdened catalyst was not a Heavy Soul Arrow.
It wasn't even magic anymore.
It was fury—refined, focused, and sharpened into a beam of spiraling annihilation.
The spell erupted forward in a deafening roar, a piercing lance of compressed blue energy surrounded by a spiraling shell of chakra. The two forces fed off each other, forming a spiral drill of death that raced toward the exposed scale.
The moment it struck, everything changed.
The world went quiet.
BOOM.
The beam carved through the Undead Dragon like it was made of paper. Bone shattered, flesh liquefied, stone cracked from the backlash. A twelve-foot hole was torn through the dragon's torso in an instant. The catalyst exploded in Naruto's hands. Shards of metal and wood burst out as he was sent flying backwards like a broken ragdoll, his body slamming into the moss-covered stone. His vision swam. His ears rang with a message.
[Victory Achieved!]
[You Have Gained:]
[Dragon Scale]
[Dragon Crest Shield]
[Astora's Straight Sword]
[Soul of a Proud Knight]
[3,000 Souls]
Naruto didn't even have time to celebrate.
The moment the dragon's soul dissipated, his body reminded him violently that he was not okay.
His left arm had gone numb.
At first, he thought it was just exhaustion. But then he saw them. Whitish-blue crystals had erupted from his forearm, shoulder, and even between his fingers. They were jagged growths that looked like splinters of soul energy frozen mid-detachment. Each one pulsed faintly, glowing like shattered ice under moonlight.
"Shit," he muttered, voice strained as a clone rushed to his side.
"Hold still," the clone said, kneeling beside him. "This is gonna suck."
And it did.
The first shard came out with a wet crunch, tearing through muscle like a barbed hook. Blood spurted. Naruto clenched his teeth so hard he felt his jaw tremble. The clone didn't wait as he ripped one after another from the meat of his bicep, from the soft skin between his fingers, even from beneath his nail beds. Each removal left a small hole; some narrow, others deep and jagged. The pain was like frostbite and electrocution all at once... numbing, but still capable of making his vision blacken at the edges.
Naruto panted, sweat dripping from his brow. "Never... doing that again... without gloves."
"Yeah, I'm not even you and I feel violated," the clone said dryly before holding up a talisman.
Golden light surged.
The Heal miracle washed over him, soothing the torn flesh, knitting together muscle, mending bone. The pain eased... but didn't vanish. Even as the holes closed, a strange stiffness lingered.
Naruto flexed his fingers experimentally. The motion was sluggish, like the nerves weren't sure they existed anymore. His skin felt stretched, almost fake—like paper that had been soaked then dried too fast. He shook the arm out, jerking it up and down. The tingling remained.
"When I did this with Beatrice," he muttered, frowning at the hand that had just nearly exploded, "her catalyst didn't blow up. My arm didn't end up looking like a cursed popsicle."
Clearly, he still had a long way to go.
The technique was incredible, but it wasn't something he could rely on in the middle of a fight. Too long to set up. Too draining. Too risky.
"And now I know it literally eats my arm from the inside out," he muttered.
But the payoff... Naruto glanced across the ravine where the Undead Dragon had once been. If that blast had hit someone like Zabuza, he would be gone. That thought alone made Naruto grin through the pain.
"Definitely a trump card," he whispered. "But more like a 'hope I survive using it' card."
He turned his attention back to his loot, trying to distract himself from the lingering ache.
First up: the Astora Straight Sword.
It was nearly a mirror of Oscar's blade—sleek silver guard, polished steel, engraved filigree along the fuller, and that faint, telltale hum of divinity clinging to its edge. But... it wasn't his master's.
Naruto could feel it. Whoever had carried this one hadn't shaped it with the same soul. It wasn't
his sword.
Still...
He slid it into his inventory with a nod.
"Nice to have a spare."
Next up was the Dragon Crest Shield.
[Item: Dragon Crest Shield]
[Description: Shield of a nameless knight, likely a high-ranked knight of Astora. One of the enchanted blue shields. The Dragon Crest Shield greatly reduces fire damage.]
Naruto lifted it from the inventory, holding it up so the sun could hit its surface. The polished blue gleam shimmered like still water, casting faint ripples of light across his arm.
He flipped it over, inspecting the craftsmanship with a slow, thoughtful hum.
It was nearly identical to Oscar's Crest Shield in size and shape—same Astoran steelwork, same reinforced rim. But where Oscar's bore the proud lion of Astora, this one carried a different mark. A dragon, etched in fluid, curling lines, wings spread and mouth open in a silent roar.
"Different houses?" he muttered aloud. "Or maybe a different order of knights?"
He didn't have enough history to be sure, but it made sense.
Whatever the truth, the shield's enchantment was unmistakable. Even without testing it, Naruto could feel the heat resistance woven into its frame. The way the air around it dulled slightly, as though warding off invisible embers.
"Fireproof. Definitely keeping that."
He slid it into his inventory and turned to the real prize—the thing he'd been itching to examine ever since he had seen the Undead Dragon.
The Dragon Scale.
He pulled it free, cradling it in both hands. It was massive, easily half the size of his torso and incredibly heavy to the point the scale could work as a shield. Its surface was textured with fine, natural ridges, a greenish-bronze sheen shimmering faintly beneath its scarred exterior.
It was beautiful.
[Item: Dragon Scale]
[Description: Dragon scale for reinforcing dragon weapons. Peeled from an ancient dragon. A dragon is inseparable from its scales, and the transcendent apostles, who seek the perpetuity of the ancient dragons, have crossed the very end of the earth to seek this invaluable treasure.]
Naruto's brow lifted as he read the message. "Reinforce dragon weapons, huh..."
His eyes flicked to the Drake Sword strapped to his side, lips tugging into a grin. Now that was exciting. The sword was already a powerhouse. If he could make it stronger? That was a game-changer. But it wasn't the upgrade that truly caught his attention.
Transcendent apostles who seek the perpetuity of the ancient dragons.
Naruto turned the scale over again in his hands, more slowly this time. The phrase echoed in his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch.
His eyes gleamed with curiosity. Was there a way to gain their power? His thoughts ran wild. What would it mean to become like a dragon? Immense power? Wings? Fire? Immortality?
Transformation?
He chuckled at the image in his head—a version of himself towering above his enemies, wings spread, eyes glowing like molten gold. People would run. Gato would panic. And yeah... it'd be cool as hell.
Naruto hummed, sliding the scale back into his inventory as he began making his way toward the spiral path leading back to Rickert.
But beneath that excitement, a question lingered:
What would the power of the dragons actually cost?
Because in Lordran, everything had a price. And for those who sought the power of perpetuity of dragons... the price was always higher than they realized.
Naruto suddenly popped his head through the tiny upper window of Rickert's cell, grinning wide. "Boo!"
Rickert jolted with a start, nearly knocking over his tools. "What in the?!"
Naruto laughed, dropping down from above with an acrobatic flip, landing with a proud smirk. "Man, you should've seen your face!"
"How did you even get up there?"
"Oh, a master prankster never reveals his secrets," Naruto said with a cheeky finger-wag.
"Fine. Keep your secrets," Rickert muttered, brushing off his sleeves. "I'll figure it out eventually."
"Great. While you're solving that mystery, I've got a real one for you. Can you reinforce a dragon weapon?"
Rickert raised an eyebrow, arms folding. "Well, as the best smith in Vinheim... yes, I can. If you've got a dragon weapon and a dragon scale, I can forge them together… but considering how rare those are..."
He stopped mid-sentence. Because Naruto had casually placed the Drake Sword on the windowsill. Then, with no ceremony whatsoever, he began forcing a massive, bronze-gleaming Dragon Scale in after it, grunting with effort.
Rickert stared at the absurdity. "...How?"
Naruto, still wrangling the scale through the tight space, answered without missing a beat. "Cut off the tail of a Hellkite Wyvern for the sword. Got the scale from an Undead Dragon in the valley up above."
"You... you went to the Valley of Drakes?"
"Yup," Naruto grunted. "Oh, and there's this weird, nasty cave nearby that smells like old feet."
"That would be Blighttown. One of the entrances, at least."
Naruto blinked. "Oh. That's where the second Bell of Awakening is."
Rickert gave a solemn nod.
Naruto let out a long, groaning sigh. "So the second bell is in a giant, stinking cave system full of disease, decay, and probably things that bite."
"Technically, it's more of an underground city," Rickert corrected.
Naruto made a face. "How many underground cities are there in this hellhole?"
"More than you'd expect. That's just how Lordran works. The gods live above. Everyone else gets shoved deeper. The lower your status, the deeper you go into dirt, into ruins… and if you go low enough, you'll find the Abyss."
Naruto muttered, "Cheerful place, huh?"
"Depends on your perspective," Rickert said with a half-smile.
"Alright, back on track. Dragon scale upgrade?"
Rickert turned, already reaching for his tools. "Yeah. That'll cost you ten thousand souls."
"Please tell me that was a joke."
"I'm not joking. To reinforce a dragon weapon with a scale, I need to melt the scale down to liquid form—magma-hot. Then I wrap it around the blade, forge it again, and rebind the magic inside it. To do that..."
Naruto finished Rickert's words for him with a sigh. "You need to burn souls to strengthen the flame."
"Exactly," Rickert nodded. "You could try doing it on your own, sure... but it'll still cost you ten thousand souls."
"Okay, fine. Let's do it."
"Splendid." Rickert turned and opened a heavy iron cupboard. Inside, nestled within a cage of silver runes, was something Naruto hadn't seen before: an ember that glowed faintly blue, cold light rippling off it like the surface of an icy lake. It pulsed with restrained power entirely unlike the orangish ember Andre used, whose heat could be felt from across a forge.
"That's a Vinheim ember, isn't it?"
Rickert gave a pleased hum. "Good eye. I'd love to show you the difference. Andre's flame burns hot. Ours... does not. Vinheim flames are cold. Controlled. Magical. Like the spells we weave into the world."
Naruto pulled out the Astoran ember from his own inventory, a warm flicker of orange heat cradled in a compact, brass container—a gift from Andre, after he taught Naruto how to reinforce weapons himself. The contrast between the two embers was clear even before they touched the forge.
One was passion. The other, precision.
Naruto held up a ten-thousand-soul drop and, with a flick, cast it into the waiting blue ember. The forge flared to life. Cold flames surged with an eerie shimmer, casting a spectral glow across the chamber as the soul was devoured.
Rickert muttered a quick incantation, then took up the Drake Sword and the Dragon Scale. He laid them both on the anvil before gingerly lowering the scale into the forge.
It hissed.
Then bubbled.
The scale began to melt, not in fire, but in light—glowing blue magma pooling like liquid steel infused with magic. Then Rickert gripped the Drake Sword in tongs and, with practiced precision, plunged it into the molten scale.
And something strange happened.
Veins began to ripple through the liquified scale, spidering up the length of the blade like the soul of the dragon was clawing its way into the metal. The air vibrated with power, and Naruto stepped back instinctively as the forge roared with unnatural sound.
Finally, Rickert quenched it.
With a hiss and billow of steam, he pulled the reforged sword free.
The blade had changed. Its surface now bore a more rough, stone-like texture. It wasn't just stronger. It felt...
awake.
Naruto stepped forward, gingerly taking it in his hand.
He felt it. A flicker. A trace. The same draconic aura he had felt during his soul vision, the awe and pressure of the Everlasting Dragon. This wasn't the same overwhelming force, but the residue of it clung to the weapon like dust to old bones.
"...Whoa," Naruto breathed.
"That was harder than I expected. Anything else you need?"
"Yeah, actually," Naruto said, looking up. "What's the difference between an Astoran blacksmith and a Vinheim one? Aside from temperature and, you know, cage placement."
Rickert chuckled. "Skill aside, it mostly comes down to embers, what types we're trained to handle for ascension. Andre can create standard weapon ascension. Me? I do magic."
"Magic ascension?!"
Rickert gave a smug smile. "If you've got green titanite, I can ascend that massive black Zweihander of yours into a magic weapon. Vinheim style."
Naruto groaned. "Green titanite again? Seriously? I need it for divine weapons, and now magic too? And of course I don't have any..."
Rickert rummaged through his box and held up a single, moss-green shard, glinting with latent energy. "I do."
Naruto raised a brow. "Alright, what's your price?"
Rickert didn't answer right away. He stared down at the green titanite shard in his hand for a long, quiet moment before finally speaking, voice lower than usual. "Just... come back once in a while," he said softly. "Talk to me. Even if it's just nonsense."
"That's it?"
Rickert chuckled, but it wasn't his usual humor. It sounded hollow. "I know it's pathetic," he murmured, eyes still fixed on the shard. "But you spend enough time in a cage, and even the sound of your own voice starts to feel like a stranger's. The world keeps turning out there. Up there. But down here, I'm stuck. And sometimes, I wonder if I'm even real anymore."
Naruto stayed quiet, unsure of what to say.
"So yeah. You want a deal? That's mine. Just a little conversation now and then. It keeps me from slipping. Keeps the silence from winning."
Naruto walked up to the bars, crouched beside the cell window, and gave him a small, sincere smile. "Rickert, you're not pathetic. You're just human. And you've been more than helpful. So yeah... I'll come back. Promise."
For a moment, Rickert just stared at him. Then he sniffed and gave a sharp, sarcastic sigh. "Well, that's bloody embarrassing," he muttered, straightening up and quickly wiping at the corner of one eye. "You show a little emotion and suddenly you're the tragic Vinheim shut-in. Might as well start writing poetry on the walls."
Naruto snorted. "Want me to bring you a notebook next time?"
"Please do," Rickert deadpanned. "And maybe a mirror, so I can look deep into my soul while I work."
"Deal. Now how about that weapon?"
Rickert rolled up his sleeves with exaggerated flair, mood shifting like a coin flip. "Right. Let's turn your oversized can-opener into the most magical death stick this side of Anor Londo. Hand over that Zweihander, friend."
Naruto grinned, excitement buzzing in his chest as he handed over the Zweihander.
But then he paused.
His fingers lingered on the hilt for just a second longer. He remembered the blast. The shattered catalyst. The crystalline veins in his arm. That strange, beautiful destruction he had barely survived.
"Rickert," he said suddenly, pulling the sword back before the smith could reach it. "What exactly is a magic weapon?"
"Hrm. That's a good question."
Rickert tapped a finger to his chin. "To put it simply... it's like giving your soul something to hit the world with. A spell turned permanent. Think of it like... condensing your will into steel."
Naruto's eyes narrowed, the words echoing in his mind.
Giving your soul something to hit the world with. If that was true... and if soul magic could mix with chakra...
"I could amplify it," Naruto murmured.
"Sorry?"
Naruto waved him off. "Nothing. Just thinking."
His gaze dropped to the Zweihander again. He didn't want to lose his favorite weapon. "...Let's make something else instead," he said.
"Something smaller?"
Naruto nodded, pulling a hand axe from his inventory—the crude, iron weapon he'd started with back in his pyromancer class. The thing had seen better days, but it had history.
"This one."
"That's your backup?"
Naruto smirked. "More like a test subject."
"Well, it'll need to be reinforced first," Rickert said, pointing to the axe's chipped edge and worn hilt.
Naruto didn't argue. He reached into his pouch and produced ten titanite shards, laying them across the windowsill like poker chips.
Rickert whistled low.
Several hours passed.
By the time Rickert handed the weapon back, it looked nothing like the worn tool it had been. Now, it was blackened steel, with a deep sapphire-blue vein running through the blade like lightning trapped in iron. When Naruto held it, the vein pulsed faintly beneath his touch.
He felt the energy stir within it. It felt like an extension of his soul.
"Alright..." he muttered, more to himself than Rickert.
He poured a stream of chakra into the handle. The blue vein sparked, and then glowed white-hot.
Naruto grinned. "Okay. That's good."
CRACK.
The axe head detonated with a sharp bang.
Naruto's eyes widened as he dropped the smoking handle and dove out of the way. Fragments of metal slammed into the stone wall behind him, and Rickert vanished in a panic beneath the workbench in his cell.
Silence.
"...You alive?" Rickert called, peeking up with wide eyes.
"Yeah," Naruto groaned, brushing dust from his shoulders. "Just lost some hearing. Again."
He walked over to the scattered debris, squinting at the fragments. Something shimmered between the broken shards. A crystalline lump—small, jagged, and faintly pulsing with energy.
"Rickert," he asked, holding it up, "any idea what this is?"
The blacksmith stared at it for a long time. Then he inhaled sharply. "That's... that's crystallized soul," he muttered. "Hrm... I didn't think it was real."
"What do you mean?"
"In Vinheim," Rickert said slowly, "there were always whispers. Old theories passed around like ghost stories. That if your soul could press hard enough against reality, it could become so dense, so absolute, that it would crystallize. Like frozen light. A moment of will turned solid."
Naruto stared at the fragment. And it clicked. His soul cannon. That spiraling beam of destruction. It hadn't been just an amplified spell. It was the final form of Soul Arrow—by allowing the soul to press against reality via chakra.
"I guess that explains the catalyst and axe," he said. "They weren't breaking. I was overclocking them." He sat back, his hand still cradling the shard. "Beatrice pulled it off. No explosions. No backlash. Just pure control."
Rickert raised a brow. "Beatrice?"
Naruto took a moment before telling the man about his adventures in the Darkroot Garden, Beatrice, chakra, and the combination of the two systems.
Rickert fell silent for a long moment. Then he pressed a hand to his mouth, thinking. "Listen to me, Naruto," he said finally, his voice low. "A word of advice from a friend."
Naruto's eyes met his, sensing the shift in tone.
"Don't show that off," Rickert said. "Not to strangers. Not to allies. Not unless you absolutely have to. You're walking around with something no one in Lordran understands. And that means they'll want to understand it. Or worse... control it."
Naruto felt the truth in those words. "But how bad could it be?" he asked quietly. "Hypothetically?"
Rickert exhaled, his gaze drifting toward the far wall. "Hypothetically? The worst case would be... Seath."
Naruto blinked. "Seath the Scaleless?"
Rickert nodded grimly. "The albino dragon. Creator of soul magic. There are... rumors. That he has experimented on humans. Kidnapped them. Twisted them. Trying to force his knowledge into flesh."
Naruto felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"Someone like that," Rickert said, "if they saw you use chakra... they'd tear you apart just to study what made you different."
Naruto looked down at the crystal shard in his palm, his reflection fractured in its surface. He had a long way to go. And if he wanted to stand against beings like Seath... he'd have to walk that road carefully. He tightened his grip and nodded. "Thanks, Rickert."
"Just keep your head on out there, yeah? I'd rather not lose the only decent conversation I've had in years."
Naruto grinned. "Deal."
Rickert sat hunched over on his bench, his gaze drifting far past the rusted bars of his cage and toward the mist-veiled New Londo below. The bluish light reflecting off the sunken city made the ruins look almost peaceful... if you didn't know what lived under them.
"You know," Rickert murmured, "I'm still shocked that you met the real Witch Beatrice."
"She's a hero, right?"
"Indeed. One of the last true ones. She was born here, when New Londo was still a city. Not just ruins and ghosts."
"She lived here?" Naruto asked, glancing back over the ledge. His gaze traced the rooftops sunken beneath the black waters.
"She did," Rickert confirmed. "They say she was a prodigy. Raised among the sorcerers in this very city. But she didn't stay. Left as a young girl. Wandered the world on her own. Never joined any coven or court. Just a rogue witch with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind."
Naruto let that image sit in his head for a moment—Beatrice, wandering alone, wrapped in that quiet dignity of hers, her staff on her back, her chin held high.
"So... what happened?" he asked quietly. "To New Londo, I mean."
Rickert exhaled slowly. "No one really knows. Not even the gods speak of it. Something... ancient. Some say it rose from the Abyss itself. When the darkness came, the city was lost. But before the waters swallowed it, Beatrice came back."
Naruto's breath hitched slightly.
"She came back?" he echoed.
"She fought it," Rickert said. "Alone. No army. No Firelink support. Just her, standing against whatever hell had taken root beneath the city. And she held the line long enough for the city to be drowned—to keep the corruption from spreading to the surface. That's what made her a legend. That sacrifice."
Naruto didn't respond right away.
He just stared.
Down at the flooded ruins. At the quiet, distant rooftops rising from the Abyss like tombstones. At the stagnant black water that hid whatever final fight she had faced.
A tear slid down his cheek before he even realized it.
Bittersweet.
That was the word. He had wondered what had happened to her.
And now he knew.
She died saving her home.
There was pain, yes. A quiet ache that throbbed behind his eyes. But there was pride too. And awe. A part of him wanted to cry harder, while another part simply sat taller. Because of course that's how she went.
"She meant a lot to you, didn't she?" Rickert asked, voice soft and nonjudgmental.
Naruto wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, still staring ahead. His voice came slowly, like the words were surfacing from someplace deeper than usual. "Beatrice and I didn't talk much," Naruto said. "We fought together once. Just once. Against the Moonlight Butterfly."
He exhaled through his nose, the memory still sharp in his mind.
"No stories. No real introductions. She just showed up, cast a few spells, and changed everything I thought I knew about magic." He scratched at his jaw absently, the smallest smile tugging at his lips.
"She was the smartest and strangest girl I've ever met."
Rickert didn't speak. He didn't need to.
"She gave me the basics of magic," he continued. "Not as a teacher. More like... someone holding open a door. And once it was open, she left. Just like that."
His voice dropped, a note of something unspoken caught beneath the words.
"I didn't realize how much that mattered until she was gone."
Rickert gave a small, knowing smile, soft and bittersweet. "Sometimes the people who change your life don't need to stay long. Just long enough to point you in the right direction."
Naruto nodded, quietly.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even friendship, not really. But it was a connection. And in a place like Lordran, that meant more than most people would ever understand.
"You know," he said after a moment, voice low, "I wanted to find her in the present day. Thought maybe she'd be somewhere out there... waiting. I even imagined teasing her, calling her an old hag just to see her roll her eyes." He gave a small laugh, one that faded almost as quickly as it came. "Guess I can say goodbye to that friendship."
"Are you sad?"
"Yeah," Naruto replied. "But I'm happy, too. Happy that Bea lived her life the way she wanted. And died on her terms. If you have to go, that's the best you can hope for, right?"
With slow reverence, Naruto raised his left hand, palm open toward the sky. A silent prayer. A goodbye.
Rickert watched, saying nothing, but the moment etched itself into his memory like stone.
He'd heard the stories.
Beatrice wasn't just a sorceress. She was a legend. A rogue witch whose very presence in battle reshaped entire outcomes. Men from every corner of the world had tried to win her hand—princes, generals, scholars... all turned away with silence or a sharp spell. And then there was the tale Rickert remembered most vividly. A knight—unnamed in every version—who approached Beatrice with quiet confidence. They say she gave him a moment. Let him speak. Even smiled.
Until he took off his helmet. And then, cold as moonlight, she said:
"You aren't him."
The line became a legend of its own. Who was she waiting for? Who was
him? Most chalked it up to poetry. A myth. The kind of thing people told each other when trying to make sense of a woman who refused to be understood.
But now, as Rickert looked at Naruto, a strange thought crept into his mind.
Was he the one? The knight Beatrice waited for?
Before the idea could fully form, Naruto stood, stretching his arms overhead. "Well," he said, "I think it's time I head back. I've got a mission to finish."
Rickert nodded, his face composed but his thoughts still swirling. "I'll see you next time, then."
That made Naruto pause. He turned halfway, eyes thoughtful. "Hey, Rickert... since you're not exactly tied down anymore, why don't you try tinkering with some tech from my world?"
"Technology?"
Naruto reached into his inventory, materializing a worn but functional flintlock pistol and placing it on the windowsill with a light clack. "This is..."
"Don't tell me," Rickert interrupted, holding up a hand, his eyes gleaming with a childlike fascination. "I want to figure it out on my own."
"Alright, suit yourself. But if you manage to make something out of it, let me know. I'd love to see it."
Rickert smirked, already turning the flintlock over in his hands, fingers tracing the grooves of the barrel and trigger with growing excitement. "Oh, don't worry. I'll find something. Can't let my skills rot down here from idleness."
Naruto grinned. "Good luck, then."
"Goodbye, Naruto. And... keep your head on out there. You're a rare sort, you know. You help break the monotony."
Naruto blinked. "That a compliment?"
"Take it however you want, kid."
With a casual wave and a confident step, Naruto turned and began his walk up the stairs, the sound of his boots echoing softly against moss-covered stone. The chill of New Londo nipped at his back, but his heart was steady. His mind was already drifting forward—toward Zabuza, Gato, and the Wave mission still waiting for him. Toward the battles yet to come.
And he was ready for whatever hell came next. Because Lordran had taught him well. And somewhere deep in his soul, he could feel it:
The real game had just begun.
Naruto stepped onto the elevator, the ancient chains rattling as they pulled him up toward Firelink Shrine. He was satisfied with the strength he'd gained. The next step was simple: return to Andre, die, and respawn back in the Elemental Nations. Fifteen days in Lordran. He hoped everything back home hadn't gone to hell in his absence. But halfway up, he heard a wet squelch sound, a flutter of wings, followed by crying.
His instincts screamed, and he was already sprinting the second the platform locked into place. Up the worn stone steps. Around the corner.
His breath hitched.
A crow was perched on the iron bars of Anastacia's cage, its talons sunk deep into the rusted metal. Its head jerked with unnatural spasms. But Naruto's eyes weren't on the bird.
They were on what hung from its beak. A strip of torn flesh. Red. Wet.
Anastacia's tongue.
Still tethered to her mouth by a glistening thread of sinew, the crow yanked and twisted, trying to pull it free—dragging her stolen voice out inch by inch. Anastacia sobbed quietly, her body curled into the corner of her cell, her hands pressed over her mouth as if trying to hold in what was already being taken.
Naruto didn't think. He moved.
His Zweihander cut the air.
Shink!
The crow's head dropped to the floor. Its body flailed, wings beating frantically for a few final seconds before stilling with a soft thump. Blood spattered the stone. The foul thing twitched once more, then lay silent. Anastacia gasped. Her eyes were wide, glassy with terror, yet they didn't move from the corpse. Not from fear. From recognition. Of what almost happened.
Naruto stormed up to the cage, grabbed the bars with his left hand. Crack. Groan. With a grunt, he forced the metal apart, slipping through and dropping to his knees beside her.
"Drink," he said, pulling an Estus Flask from his pouch and holding it to her.
She hesitated.
"
Drink," he repeated, his voice firmer, gentler.
Slowly, she took it. The golden light trickled down her throat, and Naruto felt her trembling begin to ease as the warmth spread through her fragile frame. He exhaled in relief and pulled her into a soft hug.
"You're safe," he murmured. "I took care of it. You're safe now."
Her body shuddered against him. She gripped his tunic like it was an anchor. For a long moment, they just stayed like that—still, quiet, breathing. Naruto glanced around the room. No bed. No blanket. Just cold stone and silence.
His jaw clenched.
Why was an innocent girl subjected to this hell?
But instead of rage, he reached for something lighter.
"Hey," he said softly, pulling back, "wanna see something cool?"
Anastacia blinked, still sniffling.
Naruto flicked a shuriken from his pouch, spun it across his knuckles, then balanced it on one finger before flipping it across to the next. A simple trick. But in the right moment?
Magic.
Her eyes widened. And the corners of her lips curved just slightly.
"... Amazing," she whispered.
His grin lit up the room.
He reached into his inventory and pulled a torn page from his journal. Folded once. Then again. A crease. A corner tucked. An edge turned. He handed it to her. A paper flower.
"Ever tried origami?"
She shook her head.
"Well, then..." He pulled out a second page and handed it to her. "Let's change that."
As Naruto gently guided Anastacia's fingers through the folds of paper, teaching her the quiet rhythm of origami, he made a quick shadow clone to handle the rest. The clone wordlessly slipped out of the cell, crouched beside the crow's body, and examined it.
But the moment it touched the corpse.
Pssshhhh.
The crow melted like wax in fire, dissolving into a puddle of dark mist. Like it had never been real to begin with. Naruto blinked. His eyes narrowed.
What the hell…
The clone didn't hesitate. It sprinted down the spiral stairs to Rickert's cell. "Hey, you ever hear of a crow that melts after you kill it?"
Rickert looked up from tinkering with the flintlock Naruto had left him. "A what now?"
The clone filled him in, voice taut with urgency.
Rickert shook his head slowly, face troubled. "I don't know anything about crows like that… but if it was targeting Anastacia? Might've been sent by the Way of White. She's their prisoner, after all."
That made Naruto still.
When the memory hit, the real Naruto clenched his jaw.
The Way of White. The bastards just kept crawling up from the cracks.
Fine. Time to get answers. He walked across the shrine's moss-streaked courtyard, boots echoing off the stones, until he found him.
Petrus of Thorolund, in all his false holiness.
The cleric stood up when he saw him approach, his mace already in hand. "You dare approach me again?"
"Shut up," Naruto growled. "I'll pay you 1,000 souls if you answer a question."
Petrus paused.
Then, the tension in his shoulders melted away. "Ah, of course, dear brother. What knowledge do you seek?"
"A crow attacked the Fire Keeper. Tried to rip out her tongue. You know anything about that?"
"Hmm… now that is peculiar indeed…"
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, and Naruto felt his patience thinning.
"Tell me," Petrus said finally, "did you… heal her tongue?"
Naruto's fists tightened. "Yeah. I did."
A shadow passed across Petrus's face. His next smile was thinner, sharper. "Then that may be the problem."
"What?"
"I have never heard of a crow targeting a Fire Keeper for her tongue. But if the tongue was never meant to be there…" Petrus tilted his head, mock-thoughtful. "Perhaps… the gods are merely correcting a mistake."
Naruto's chakra flared in his chest.
"You should cut it out again," Petrus said casually, like it was a piece of rotted meat. "After all, it was likely removed in her village, to prevent her from ever speaking a god's name in vain. And now… you've restored the source of her sin. The gods are simply correcting it."
Naruto's glare could've split stone. "I'm not doing that. She didn't deserve any of this."
Petrus gave a flippant shrug. "As you like. I only offer what wisdom I've gathered in service of the gods."
Naruto turned, disgusted rising in his throat.
This wasn't wisdom. This was rot. This was the kind of thing that masked cruelty behind golden robes and hymns and worse still…
He felt helpless.
If some divine force was actually behind this then he was powerless to stop it. For all the strength he'd gained in Lordran… he couldn't protect her.
Not from this.
"Ah, but perhaps I could interest you in a new miracle?" Petrus called after him, his voice sticky with false kindness. "Something to keep your mind off the Fire Keeper's… predicament?"
Naruto didn't even look back. "Maybe later," he muttered, walking to the elevator.
But deep down, he was already planning his next move. And when the time came, he'd make sure that bastard would regret ever opening his mouth.
Naruto barely touched the ground as he leapt off the elevator, chakra flaring in brief, silent bursts. His boots skimmed the wall before his body flipped upward—feet latching to the ceiling with pinpoint control. He sprinted along the stone overhead, weaving through the narrow shaft's gaps and crumbling supports until he reached the top.
A flicker of movement and he slipped silently back into Firelink Shrine.
Time for phase two.
Two fingers flicked up.
Poof.
Three shadow clones appeared at his side.
Transformation Jutsu.
In a puff of smoke the clones took form, one wearing Kakashi's familiar flak vest and tilted headband, another in Sakura's pink hair and red dress, and the third sporting Sasuke's trademark scowl and Uchiha crest.
The "Team 7" trio approached Petrus.
"Yo," the Kakashi clone greeted casually, one hand raised in lazy salute.
"Hn," the Sasuke clone added, arms crossed.
"Hi!" Sakura chirped brightly.
Petrus turned to them, robes rustling. "Ah… new faces. Unfamiliar, and yet…"
He frowned.
"You carry the aura of the Baptismal Rite. The blessing of the Way of White flows through you."
The clones tensed but the Sakura one quickly laughed it off. "Oh, that! Yeah, we actually met a member of the Way of White on our travels. They—uh—baptized us, but we never learned the miracles."
"Hmph." Petrus' tone curled with disdain, though he forced a smile. "Then I assume you've had the… pleasure… of meeting Lady Rhea and her little band of guardians?"
Naruto's ears perked up from where he listened, hidden on the roof.
The Kakashi clone nodded smoothly. "We did. She was very generous, but…" He let the sentence trail, glancing sideways. "I found myself wanting more. Something deeper. Something purer."
Naruto let the words drip with calculated devotion. "I wish to further serve the Way of White," he continued, his voice lowered. "Perhaps even join a hunt for the Undead. I hear there's one stirring trouble around these parts."
Petrus's eyes sharpened but his mouth twitched into a slight, approving curve. "You are wise to pursue a truer path," he said, voice like velvet hiding a blade. "Rhea… stands where she does not through merit or piety, but by virtue of a bloodline soaked in heresy. Her father, that false bishop, was a traitor to our faith. A coward. A liar. She's just a naive child, dressed in holy robes, given purpose only by her name."
The bitterness in his tone couldn't be mistaken.
Naruto's clone inclined his head in faux humility. "Then allow me to learn from someone of true devotion. May I buy from your wares?"
At that, Petrus brightened instantly. "Of course," he said, practically glowing. "I would be delighted to offer a true follower what he seeks."
"I'd like the Homeward Miracle," said the Sakura clone sweetly.
"That will be 8,000 souls."
"Don't worry, I'll cover it," the Kakashi clone interjected, arms folded. "Let my students pick, and I'll pay for everything in one go."
Petrus gave a small nod, turning to retrieve the scroll. He held it just out of reach, clearly waiting for the payment first.
"I'll take Seek Guidance," the Sasuke clone added.
"2,000 souls," Petrus muttered.
"I'll take the Great Heal Excerpt," the Kakashi clone said casually.
Petrus froze. His hand stiffened mid-reach. "How… do you know about that miracle?"
Naruto blinked behind the transformation. He only knew about the Excerpt because Petrus offered it to him when they first met. But that reaction, it wasn't normal. Was the Excerpt not supposed to be public knowledge?
"Oh," the clone said smoothly, adopting Kakashi's lazy tone. "Some knight named Naruto told us about it. Said you had a few good ones tucked away. Even named them for us."
Petrus hesitated, then slowly nodded, masking whatever internal panic he was hiding.
"That scroll is 10,000 souls. Your total comes to 20,000."
Naruto raised his hand, forming a glowing soul orb in his palm, letting the light dance across Petrus's greedy eyes. He didn't have 20,000 souls. Not even close. But he had a plan.
His gaze snapped suddenly to the staircase above them. "Oh! Lady Rhea! What a surprise."
Petrus's head whipped around, his posture stiff, gaze frantic but there was nothing.
No noble lady.
Just empty stone and silence. And when he turned back, the scrolls in his hand were gone. So were the strangers. For a beat, Firelink Shrine stood still. Petrus blinked. Once. Twice. Then his hands clutched at air, as if trying to squeeze ghosts.
"Wait!" he choked. "Where...?!" Realization hit like a collapsing tower. The miracle scrolls. All three. Gone. And not a single soul in return.
From the rooftop, Naruto's real body had to physically slap a hand over his mouth to keep from howling with laughter.
Below, Petrus's face twisted in outrage. "Damn you, Rhea!" he hissed, voice shaking. "I know not how, but I know you had something to do with this!" He stormed off, eyes wild, searching the ruins for enemies that didn't exist.
Naruto shook his head, glancing at the three stolen miracle scrolls with a smirk.
Before he left, he made one last shadow clone and whispered a command. "Stay with Anastacia. Protect her."
The clone nodded and vanished down the stairs toward her cell.
With that done, Naruto turned and walked toward the elevator, satisfaction humming in his chest. Petrus got what he deserved. But this was far from the last time Naruto would cross paths with the Way of White. The deeper he dug, the more it became clear: the church wasn't just hiding secrets from the world… it was hiding them from itself.
And some of those secrets belonged to the gods.
The clone of Naruto watched quietly from his crouched position as Anastacia delicately finished folding the paper swan. Her hands trembled, unsure but determined, and when the final crease was made, she smiled. Not a large smile, not a triumphant one, but a small, innocent curl of her lips. Childlike. Pure. The kind of smile that should've belonged to someone far from a place like this.
Naruto clapped gently. "You did great."
Anastacia's head tilted slightly, as though she weren't sure if she was allowed to be proud. But she smiled again, shyly, holding the swan close to her chest. "You know..." the clone started, rubbing the back of his neck. "You could come with me. I've got people back where I'm from. A place. It's not perfect, but it's safe. And you'd never be caged again."
Her smile faded. Her voice came quiet, but there was strength behind it.
"My duty is here."
The clone sighed and glanced at the iron bars. "You sure it's your duty? Or is it just what they told you your whole life?"
Anastacia lowered her gaze, but she didn't answer. The clone stared a moment longer before nodding, and with a grunt, bent the bars back into place.
Before turning to leave, he slid a kunai between the bars.
"I don't know if my words'll ever stick, but just remember. You've got a choice now," he said softly. "That's yours. To protect yourself."
Anastacia nodded, her fingers gently curling around the foreign weight. She held it to her chest, unsure of what it meant to hold a weapon, only that it was something he had trusted her with.
As the clone turned away, she sat back, the candlelight flickering over her and the small origami swan resting beside her. She picked it up, tilted it, made it dance. For the first time in what felt like lifetimes, a quiet laugh left her lips. Not strong. Not loud.
But
real.
Hope.
Then came the voice. "Such a sight of innocence. A shame it belongeth to a sinner."
Anastacia froze.
Her gaze snapped up. The paper swan slipped from her hands. A crow, far larger than before, now perched atop Naruto's clone. Its talons dug into the boy's head. His eyes were wide, glazed over like he was sleeping with his eyes open.
"Thy tongue was stripped for thy trespass," the crow crooned, wings twitching with contemptuous elegance. "And yet here thou sitteth, reborn in blasphemy. Dost thou think thy penance complete?"
Anastacia shrank back against the wall, gripping the kunai as the crow continued. "Thou knoweth well thy curse. Thy voice is but sin given shape. Wilt thou cut it free again, child? Wilt thou silence the serpent within?"
Anastacia's chest trembled. She brought the blade to her lap, the cold steel stark against her shaking fingers. The clone's mouth moved, barely a whisper, caught in the crow's hold. "Ana…stacia…"
Her eyes flickered to him.
He was trying. Even bound, his will fought the bird's grip. Even when entranced, he still called her name.
Her name.
She looked down at the blade.
I was never meant to speak.
She looked at the swan.
I was never meant to be seen.
She looked at him.
But I was seen.
Her grip on the blade loosened.
"Thou believeth this knight to be thy savior?" the crow rasped, voice like parchment torn in shadow. "This fool, this mortal boy, whom I didst ensnare with naught but a whisper of unreality? A mere flicker of thought and behold, he is naught but a prisoner in his own mind."
Its beak tilted toward the clone still frozen, trapped in dream.
"I wonder, sweet vessel… should I show thee what becometh of such knights when their minds unravel? Wouldst he still remain gentle? Or would the spiral claim his soul entire?"
Anastacia's hands flew to her mouth. "Please… don't."
The crow's head snapped toward her. Its eyes burned with cruel light. "Then do it."
Her breath hitched.
"Take thy blade. Cleanse thy blasphemy. Restore thy silence. Let not the defiled tongue twist once more within thy flesh."
Anastacia shook as if the words themselves struck her. She looked at the kunai, still slick with the faint memory of her hope.
She raised it.
The metal kissed beneath her tongue, cold and unyielding.
The first cut was shallow.
A gasp escaped her as the taste of iron spilled across her palate. She bit down to stifle a scream, tears leaking from her eyes.
The second slice plunged deeper.
Her body convulsed, the muscle spasming in panic. The sound of her breath became a wet, gurgling rasp as she felt something vital tear. Blood gushed over her lips, drenching her chin and staining her robes in terrible red.
She gagged, trembled.
And then with one final tremor of will, she jerked the blade sideways.
Her tongue fell.
A soft, awful
slap echoed through the hollow chamber as the severed flesh hit the ground, twitching as though still begging for mercy. Blood pooled at her knees. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks, silent and burning. The crow ruffled its wings, satisfied, voice cold and commanding.
"Knoweth thy place," it said. "Thou art not maiden, nor mother, nor self. Thou art firekeeper—flame's slave. Thine duty is to serve. To silence. To sacrifice."
It paused, one gleaming eye fixed upon her broken form.
"Not to dream."
Then, with a shriek like the death of light, it took flight, wings scattering ash and whispers as it vanished into the broken sky.
Anastacia collapsed to her side, gasping through blood and tears, clutching the kunai to her chest.
The paper swan lay beside her, crushed and red.
A gift from a boy who had smiled at her. Who had seen her not as flame's servant, but as a person. She had heard the stories of knights saving maidens, of swords drawn in righteous fury, of chains broken by kindness. Tales whispered like lullabies among the desperate. Fantasies passed from lip to trembling lip, between those caged beneath the world, daring to believe in the impossible.
But Anastacia was no maiden.
She was no noble's daughter, no princess in a tower awaiting salvation.
She was a firekeeper.
A sinner.
A nameless soul born to serve and suffer silently.
A vessel without worth.
And yet…
And yet…
She dared to dream.
Just for a breath. Just for a moment.
That Naruto Uzumaki—that foolish, loud, kind boy who called her
friend—might be the knight to save her. A girl who once longed to speak. Who once longed to live.
Even if it was a sin to be born outside her fate.
Even if it was blasphemy to want more than silence.
Even if it condemned her, she let herself dream of the knight that would stand before the gods.
Naruto sat cross-legged as the elevator rattled upward toward the Undead Church. In one hand, he flicked through the miracle scrolls, mentally reviewing their descriptions with the narrowed eyes of someone already feeling buyer's remorse.
[Item: Great Heal Excerpt]
[Description: Great miracle cast by advanced clerics. Restores high HP.
Great Heal Excerpt borrows from only several verses of Great Heal. As a result, it can only be cast a stark few times.]
Naruto hummed, rubbing his chin. Right. That explained why Petrus looked like he'd swallowed spoiled milk when he mentioned it. If Rhea was a high-ranking cleric, and this scroll was only an excerpt… then Petrus probably stole it. Cut and pasted divine scripture just to make a quick buck.
"What a bitch," Naruto muttered under his breath. Still, a powerful healing miracle had its uses.
He flipped to the requirements.
[Faith Requirement: 14]
[Spell Uses: 1]
He stared. Then stared harder.
"You're joking."
One cast? One?! For two whole levels of Faith? His eye twitched. "This is as useless as Petrus' bowl cut." With a grumble, he shoved the scroll back into his inventory. Maybe he'd come back to it if Hinata's mother ever needed more than the Estus could offer.
Onto the next.
This one looked… weird. No words. Just a smudge of paint, like someone had dragged a wet brush across the scroll in a lazy half-circle.
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Okay…"
[Item: Homeward]
[Description: Great miracle cast by advanced clerics. Return to the last bonfire rested at. Would normally link to one's homeland, only the curse of the Undead has distorted its power, redirecting casters to a bonfire. Or perhaps for Undead, this serves as home?]
Naruto blinked. "…So it's just a miracle version of a Homeward Bone?"
Actually… that sounded useful. Instant teleport back? Could come in handy in either world. Especially if he had no Bones left and a backpack full of souls.
Then he checked the requirements.
[Faith Requirement: 18]
[Spell Uses: 1]
Naruto physically recoiled like he'd been slapped. "Six levels in Faith?! For one cast?!" At this point, he was starting to lose faith in miracles, period.
With a sigh, he pulled out the final scroll.
[Item: Seek Guidance]
[Description: Miracle of clerics on an Undead more guidance from other worlds. Guidance facilitates communication between Undead, but their value varies greatly. A balance of faith and wisdom is required.]
He squinted.
"…So it's just a miracle version of the Orange Soapstone?"
Still, he checked the stats.
[Faith Requirement: 12]
[Spell Uses: 5]
Finally. Something he could actually use. The Soapstone messages had helped him once or twice before. If this miracle uncovered even more hidden messages, maybe he'd actually get some useful hints. Or at least a few chuckles.
He rolled the scroll up just as the elevator ground to a halt with a groan. The ruined hall of the Undead Church stretched before him. Naruto glanced up to the second floor, half-expecting the Channeler to be there, dancing.
Nothing.
Even the Berenike Knight was gone.
Guess those two were like the Black Knights. Naruto frowned, disappointed that the Channeler's ridiculous robe was no longer available to loot. He'd really wanted to try it on, if only to mess with Kakashi.
But his disappointment faded as something caught his eye. A faint orange glow shimmered near the cracked floor. A Soapstone message.
"Blacksmith Ahead."
His eyes drifted to the
Seek Guidance scroll still clutched in his hand.
...Wonder if this thing shows anything different.
He stepped forward, gripping the catalyst tightly. The scroll's text danced in his memory, and he recited the incantation with a reverence that surprised even him.
"O lost souls who walk between light and dark, let your wisdom pierce the veil of silence. By the grace of the divine, may your echoes guide my steps, your voices rise from the abyss, and your truths be laid bare before me."
The words left his lips like warm mist in the cold.
The vision this time was different.
Flickering, like candlelight in a storm, came visions that were rapid and disconnected, yet somehow linked. Not one… but many.
A woman in ragged white robes, her hands trembling as she traced a glowing symbol into the mud before collapsing, a hollowed shriek caught in her throat.
A knight, face half-melted from fire, dragging himself across blood-slick stone, his last act a prayer whispered into a cracked talisman before he died with his forehead pressed to it.
A young boy, no older than Konohamaru, hunched beneath a broken arch, drawing a symbol into the dirt with shaking fingers. His lips moved as if begging someone, anyone, not to take the same path he did.
An old cleric atop a cliff, wind howling around him, carving glowing lines into the rock with the very last of his strength. As he finished, he fell backward smiling.
Hundreds of them.
Dying, warning, praying.
Each one leaving behind a piece of themselves—not power from above, but something pulled from within.
Naruto's eyes snapped open, breath catching in his throat. His heart thudded, but it wasn't fear.
It was clarity.
The
Seek Guidance miracle… it wasn't from the gods. It was a patchwork of will. Of desperation. Of hope. The final messages of the dead.
Naruto stood silent in the cathedral, the faint orange script on the stone glowing like dying embers.
Miracles don't have to come from gods, he realized as he remembered how Beatrice was able to use a miracle via magic.
So then… "Can I make my own miracle?"
The thought struck him like lightning. If miracles could be born from human will—from soul, from memory, from meaning—then maybe… he could craft one himself.
But how?
His thoughts shattered with a ping.
[Heavy Soul Arrow has been replaced by the attunement of the Seeking Guidance miracle.]
"Let's not get hung up on the advanced stuff," Naruto muttered. "Do what I can, for now."
He raised his hand and cast
Seeking Guidance.
The air shimmered like hot air. The usual message
"Blacksmith Ahead" remained. Then… shadows formed. Faint silhouettes, glowing like firelight on soot, flickered into existence. One knelt, pointing toward Andre's workshop.
"Blacksmith ahead."
Naruto blinked.
Then more appeared. One trudged toward the church doors, raising a spectral hand.
"Elevator ahead."
It walked two steps farther…
WHAM.
Naruto flinched as an illusion of a massive mace—just like the Berenike Knight's—crashed down from above, smashing the figure into glowing dust.
"Whoa…"
He let out a low whistle. Useful. But he frowned again.
"Still… one spell slot? For this?"
He could only attune a handful of spells at a time. Carrying around
Heal,
Soul Arrow,
Homeward, and now
Seek Guidance? He needed options, but the system didn't want to give them to him freely.
Then an idea sparked.
"Wait a sec… my clones can attune spells on their own, right? So what if I made a few in advance… sealed them into storage scrolls… each loaded with different spell setups?"
His grin returned.
"Emergency clone loadouts," he muttered. "One for healing, one for nuking, one for support… and they just pop out when I need 'em."
A workaround. Classic Naruto style. Until he had the attunement to manage all these himself… he'd outfox the system with good old Shadow Clone Jutsu. And it felt damn good to win at his own game.
Naruto strode toward the bonfire, sitting down and stretching his legs with a relaxed sigh. "Hey, Andre!" he called.
From the forge below, Andre's gruff voice echoed up through the stone. "Well, you took your time!"
"Yeah, yeah. Ran an errand. Found Rickert."
"Did you now? That poor bastard still locked up in New Londo?"
"Yep. Some kind of cage. I could break him out, but... he wants to stay. Wouldn't say why."
"Hmph. Figures." A pause. Then louder: "So? You get the magic you were after?"
"Yeah. Picked up some soul sorcery. Still learning."
Andre gave a short, booming laugh. "A knight tossin' spells. Sounds like an Astoran noble's daydream."
"Is it really that rare?"
"You'd be surprised."
"Well, I'm not a knight yet."
"Damn right. You're a squire. Oscar's squire, no less. Don't start givin' yourself titles."
Naruto fell quiet for a moment. His fingers traced the hilt of his sword. "...Yeah. Squire of Oscar." He let that settle, then pushed the thought away. "So. Want to keep training me?"
"Weren't you going home?"
"I am but I'll leave behind clones to keep practicing with you."
"Good. Maybe they'll finally craft a functional smoking pipe."
Naruto blushed. "I'm getting better, okay?!"
Andre just grunted.
Naruto stood, ready to use the Ring of Sacrifice and return home. But then his eyes drifted to the towering silhouette of the Grand Fortress.
He had spotted Siegmeyer from a distance, the familiar round bulk of his Catarina armor standing motionless in front of the great iron gates of Sen's Fortress. The knight hadn't moved an inch since Naruto had last seen him, still lost in thought, still waiting. The world had shifted, but Siegmeyer had not.
A man of patience or a man trapped by indecision?
Naruto exhaled and stepped forward. "Sir Siegmeyer," he called out, straightening his posture.
The older knight blinked and turned, as though waking from a daydream he'd been lost in for hours. "Oh! Hello there, young squire," he boomed, his voice as jovial as ever.
Naruto glanced at the towering gate behind him. Still shut tight, still unmoving. "...I see you're still waiting for the gates to open."
Siegmeyer let out a hearty laugh, deep and booming. "Just goes to show good things come to those who wait! Hah hah hah!"
Naruto didn't smile. Not this time. In the time Siegmeyer had waited, Naruto had fought his way through the Undead Church, faced down the Moonlight Butterfly, descended into cursed depths, learned soul sorcery, boxing and blacksmith, healed a crippled girl, and slain an Undead Dragon. Fifteen days of hardship.
And this man had just... waited.
For a flicker of a second, frustration churned beneath Naruto's calm. But he buried it. Siegmeyer had earned his respect. He wouldn't let impatience sour that.
He stood tall, like a knight-in-training should. "Sir Siegmeyer," Naruto said, tone level, "may I ask you a question?"
The older knight perked up. "Oh? Ask away! I could use the company."
"Are knights allowed to use magic?"
Siegmeyer paused as Naruto noticed the subtle shift—the tension behind the armor, the way the knight's jovial presence grew guarded. "...It's complicated," Siegmeyer said finally.
Naruto waited.
"A knight can use magic," he said, slowly, carefully, "but to do so is to stray from tradition. It would be... frowned upon. A knight who practices magic risks being cast out by his peers."
Naruto frowned but didn't care, as he had lived his entire life as the outcast. He had no noble title, no true homeland. He wasn't even officially a knight.
"Why?"
"To answer that, you must know what knights were made for. We were created to fight the everlasting dragons. To slay a dragon was to prove one's valor and honor."
Naruto's thoughts drifted to the Undead Dragon and the scale he had taken from its corpse. The Dragon Crest Shield resting in his inventory. That knight had hunted the beast. And now...
"What happens when a squire kills a dragon?" Naruto asked.
Siegmeyer paused. "That squire would bring great honor to their master. And in many cases... would be knighted."
Naruto's lips parted then curved into a smile. That meant... he had brought honor to Oscar. But the warmth of that thought flickered.
Can I call myself a knight now? Or would Oscar even approve of what I've become?
Siegmeyer continued, unaware of Naruto's spiraling thoughts. "But as for magic," he said, "it is distrusted for a reason. Because the one who first unlocked the secrets of sorcery was not a man. He was a dragon."
Naruto felt his gut tighten. "Seath the Scaleless."
"Indeed. A dragon who cast down his own kind, who sought knowledge above all else. He taught humans how to harness the soul, how to shape the world with thought and will."
"But he was still a dragon," Naruto said.
"And the knights... were made to kill dragons."
Naruto's eyes lowered. "So they couldn't accept that their greatest enemy became their greatest teacher."
Siegmeyer nodded. "Pride. Tradition. Fear. Take your pick."
"...Then why isn't magic forbidden?"
The older knight chuckled. "Because no matter how much knights protest... there's always another war. Another dragon. Another foe that demands more than steel can offer."
Naruto exhaled slowly. "So they turn to the thing they hate."
"They always have."
For a moment, they stood in silence. Then Naruto spoke, quieter now. "...If I keep using magic, I'll never be a true knight, will I?"
"Being a knight isn't about tradition. It's not about sword or magic. It's about protecting what matters. If magic helps you do that then use it, and hold your head high."
Naruto looked at him, genuinely startled. "Sir Siegmeyer..."
"Hah!" The knight laughed again, but there was no mockery in it. Only warmth. "Don't let the ghosts of old honor stop you from forging your own."
Naruto smiled, small but sincere. Then he turned toward the path leading home. "Goodbye, Sir Siegmeyer."
"Goodbye, knight Naruto."
Naruto paused mid-step. He glanced back. "I'm just a squire, Sir."
Siegmeyer's laugh echoed gently through the air. "The reinforced drake sword on your hip begs to differ."
"I... don't know if I'm ready to be a knight."
"Well, my dear friend, no one is ever truly ready for anything worth becoming. Readiness is a myth comfort tells itself before running."
"Can I really do this?"
"Surprisingly, you already have," Siegmeyer replied. "You stood for the weak. You bled for strangers. You raised your sword against evil not for glory but because it needed to be done."
Naruto opened his mouth, then closed it again. He took a breath and began to walk again.
Behind him, Siegmeyer raised his voice one last time. "May your sword be swift, your heart be steady, and your purpose ever your own. Walk forward, Naruto Uzumaki... for the world does not wait."
Naruto didn't turn back. He just walked.
Author Note:
Wow, that was a massive chapter, so let's dive into some Q and A.
1 – Mixing Chakra and Magic
Let me explain the thought process behind this.
Magic in
Dark Souls is not clearly defined. It works well in gameplay. You pick up a scroll, meet the stat requirement, and attune the spell like a DnD system. But for storytelling, that system feels too mechanical.
So I asked myself:
What is magic in the world of Dark Souls? I went through a bunch of drafts. One version had magic as misunderstood science, but that felt lazy. I scrapped it.
Instead, I drew inspiration from
Demon's Souls, the spiritual predecessor to
Dark Souls. There, magic came from the soul, and the soul came from cognition. Magic was a gift from God through a massive world tree. But when humanity misused it, that tree became the Old One, which began creating demons as a divine failsafe.
I loved that concept. And given that FromSoft reuses and evolves ideas from previous games, I felt that kind of lore fit perfectly here.
So in my fanfic, magic is the soul's will directly affecting reality. Scrolls act as formulas. Catalysts are tools that speed up that reaction. That brings me to...
Chakra.
In
Naruto, chakra is the union of physical and spiritual energy, a system already designed to interact with reality. So I thought:
If a catalyst speeds up the soul's influence on the world, would chakra, being a physical spiritual bridge, supercharge it?
That is how I landed on the concept of chakra amplifying magic. Chakra pushes the soul to express its will faster, more forcefully, and often more dangerously. That is why Naruto's early attempts blow up. He is forcing a spell to manifest at its apex, which the tool or body cannot handle yet.
Cool, right?
This lets me explore both systems while respecting the lore of both worlds.
Now here is a question for you.
What do you think would happen if the reverse happened? If a jutsu was influenced or warped by magic? What would that look like? How would the soul affect chakra techniques?
Let me know in the comments. I would love to hear your ideas.
2 – The Beatrice and Naruto Hints
Okay, so the little moment between Beatrice and Naruto? Yeah, that was me leaning into your interpretations. A surprising number of you have been shipping those two together, and honestly, I kinda get it.
Personally, I do not think either of them is in love or even crushing right now. But they
do mean something to each other. It is not romance, at least not yet. It is connection. Mutual respect. A strange comfort. Whether that develops into something deeper? I do not know yet. It would be interesting if it did.
So I am tossing the question back to you.
Do you think Beatrice had deeper feelings for Naruto? Or is Rickert just being a hopeless romantic? And more importantly,
do you want this to go in a Beatrice and Naruto direction? Maybe I will do it. Maybe I will not. Who is to say?
3 – Rickert's Gun Plot
Yes, Naruto gave Rickert a gun. Yes, Rickert is absolutely going to tinker with it.
But what do you think he will make? Will it be a prototype chakra gun? A soul firing cannon? A cursed relic that backfires hilariously? Drop your ideas. I might actually use one.
4 – Why Did the Crow Attack Anastacia
Crows in Japanese mythology are messengers of the gods. Divine agents of fate. So yes, one of the gods definitely noticed Naruto messing with something sacred.
The real question is:
which god?
You will find out eventually. Just know this. Naruto is walking a path unaccounted for. One that even the gods did not prepare for. And that is going to put him in direct conflict with some powerful beings.
5 – Rickert as a Side Character
He is getting more screen time. That much is guaranteed.
What did you think of his role in this chapter? His personality? His dynamic with Naruto? He is calm, a bit self deprecating, and slowly unraveling. But he is also clever and kind.
6 – Naruto's Current Strength Level
Alright, here is a fun one. Naruto has spent fifteen days in Lordran. Training hard. Experimenting with soul sorcery. Amplifying magic with chakra. Defeating an Undead Dragon. And learning from masters.
How strong do you think he is right now?
Let me know. A big fight is coming soon, and I would love to see what you expect of him now.
That's it for now!
And if you can't wait for the next update, the next chapter drops on
May 22th! You can read ahead to Chapter 90 on
Patreon.
Thank you all for your support—you make writing this story such an incredible journey! As always, thanks for reading.
—Adam
