The Gravelord Nito—among the strange, human-like beings Lloyd encountered—was a true oddity.
The First Dead. The Incarnation of Death. The bearer of a Lord Soul...
His titles alone were enough to inspire awe, yet his battle record spoke in silence.
From the Ancient Dragon War of creation, to the Tomb of the Giants in the Age of Fire—a place of no return—and even ages after his death, his lingering power alone could give rise to countless undead monstrosities, even aiding in suppressing the Abyss...
From any perspective, Nito's significance was absolute. Hidden deep within the shadowed lands of death, his existence was rarely heard of. Even among the Four Kings, the other Lords of Soul, Nito's name and presence stood above the rest.
It wasn't only the lesser beings who feared him. Even his peers spoke of him with caution. Lloyd once described him as "the inscrutable Incarnation of Death," "the unfathomable Lord of the Abyss," and "the eternal dead who seeks to drown the world in endless death."
No one was exaggerating—back then, that was exactly how they understood Nito.
Even Gwyn had similar remarks: "A man of few words," "No one knows where he came from, but he brought death to the immortal dragons," and "After the war, he left without a word. No one could tell what he was thinking—but he was definitely a terrifying one."
But in truth…
"He doesn't talk because he can't. His own words were, 'I'm a corpse. What did you expect, a conversation?'"
"He joined the Ancient Dragon War because those damned dragons were partying above his grave, keeping him from resting in peace. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he crawled out to fight alongside everyone else."
"As for grand ambitions—sure, he had some."
"As Death itself, you'd think he never wanted to let the world fall to death, to fill it with corpses? That'd be unrealistic."
"And it wasn't just an idea—he actually tried. Tried to spread death by recruiting followers, forming a cult. But…"
'Too much trouble. I'd have to make doctrines, reward subordinates, handle paperwork, and think.'
'Forget it. It's a pain. Being dead suits me better.'
That's what he said.
Yes—Nito's fearsome reputation didn't just come from his strength, but from the simple fact that he couldn't speak.
His power was real, his deeds unquestionable. But when it came to personality, the rumors couldn't have been more wrong.
In fact, he was the complete opposite.
The so-called Gravelord, a cold and aloof god of death, was actually lazy, indifferent, and unwilling to move unless necessary. While other Lord Soul bearers were busy—some throwing themselves into the First Flame, some trying to recreate it and blowing themselves up, others losing their minds in Crystal Sorcery research—
He alone stayed buried in the deepest pit of the Tomb of the Giants, fast asleep. His greatest concern was whether founding a church was too much work, and whether he should even bother afterward.
It was absurd.
And precisely because of this, Nito didn't really mind the idea of the world ending.
After all, if the world was gone, he could finally rest for good—no more thoughts, no more work, no more exhaustion.
So in the later eras of Dark Souls, while everyone else ran themselves ragged, exploring forbidden lands and seeking ways to save the world…
Somewhere in the shadows, a fat skeleton could always be found lazing around, slacking off—truly the "Second Brother" of Dark Souls.
...
"I'm not going! I'm not working!"
Dragged up from the ground by Lloyd, the fat skeleton dug his countless pale bone arms into the cracks beneath him, refusing to move.
"I just got another chance at life—I'm not doing overtime again!"
"This world's peaceful. Just a few small issues, perfectly suited to your powers. It won't take much effort..."
"You said the same thing last time! And look how that turned out!"
"I didn't lie. Compared to the others, your workload really isn't much..."
Nito's stubborn resistance made Lloyd's expression darken, his tone edged with threat. Yet there was no real anger—only the easy teasing between old companions.
Even in the bleakest of worlds, under the greatest pressure, something constantly pushed to its limit would eventually break.
Nito's laziness, in a strange way, lightened that oppressive despair and even helped Lloyd more than once.
Still, that didn't mean he could shirk his duties.
While Lloyd continued trying to drag Nito back to work, elsewhere—since the world instance had been cleared and the time constraints lifted—Ranni found the Fire Keeper and began to speak about Lloyd.
"How long have I known him? Hmm, I can't quite recall. Even if I could, time back then—especially later on—wasn't exactly stable..."
"All I can say is that we've known each other for a very long time. And after we met, I stayed by his side—ever since."
"Was I the first to know him, or among the first to know him?"
"Though I wish I could say yes, unfortunately, even with all the qualifiers, I can't count myself among the 'first' to know his existence. I know little even of his most distant past...
"To be more specific, he was an outsider soul. After arriving in our world, the first person he met and interacted with was likely Mr. Oscar."
"And the first woman, and his partner..."
"Sorry, I haven't quite figured that out either.
"Because of the chaotic timeline—and that guy's tendency to mess things up—before he even met me, he'd already left a trail of romantic entanglements everywhere, almost all unfolding at the same time..."
"As for specific individuals, I think...
"Miss Priscilla, Miss Quelana, Miss The Fair Lady, the single Fire Keeper, and..."
"Anyway, there were many people, and the situation was a mess. Even now, no one can fully untangle what really happened.
"Especially after he started tampering with the timeline, things became even harder to explain."
"Hm? Do I care about this sort of thing?"
"To say I don't care at all would be impossible—but I only care a little bit.
"As for the reason..."
Watching the Ashen One still fiddling with Nito nearby, even starting to pull bones from His body, the Fire Keeper smiled softly before continuing.
"I don't know what things are like in your world, nor do I know what 'normal circumstances' should be.
"But what I can tell you is that in our world, 'love' is something extremely rare—and very precious.
"As the flame weakened, the loss of humanity brought about far more than madness and Undead transformation.
"Whether it's madness or becoming Undead, they're merely the end results of humanity completely fading away. It's only because those symptoms are so visible that people notice them.
"But the real question is—during the gradual loss of humanity, when some of it still lingers but is slowly breaking apart... really, would that cause no problems?"
The answer, of course, was yes.
In truth, while Undead transformation was often seen as terrifying, the Undead of the Dark Souls world—even those not yet fully transformed—would, if placed in another world, already be considered 'souls-broken.' The worse off ones were sustained only by the remnants of thought, barely distinguishable from vengeful spirits.
When things reached that point, forget about romance—it was doubtful whether they even still possessed that capacity.
Or, to put it bluntly, the Dark Souls world was full of cold, obsessive fanatics, each clinging to their beliefs with extreme madness.
And those who weren't mad?
Those who weren't, or who were only mildly so, had long since lost their humanity and turned into Undead.
The number of sane individuals dwindled, while the number of the deranged grew. And to slow their own decay, they had to further entrench themselves in their own madness—deepening their obsession to defend their convictions.
It was already a dying, hopeless world, now eroded further by the loss of humanity.
Pain. Despair. Numbness.
The Fire Keeper could hardly describe that state of existence. She could only say that even for the Dark Souls world, the period closest to the extinguishing of the First Flame was a darkness far too deep.
Yet, within that darkness, a foreign soul descended from the heavens.
It pierced through the thick clouds gathered above, landing upon the earth and bringing with it a faint light.
At first, no one noticed that light, nor did that peculiar soul draw any attention. After all, once the Primordial Flame began to fade, all sorts of strange phenomena appeared one after another.
At first, people were curious. Many scholars even tried to study these anomalies with enthusiasm.
But as the fading grew worse, the situation more dire, and the experimental accidents more frequent, that curiosity gave way to fear and aversion.
And then, after an unknowable stretch of time, even that fear and aversion vanished.
Only indifference and numbness remained.
Until that soul appeared.
Until that Ashen One scattered into ash.
Until he stood alone at the end of time, within the endless void, grasping the final flicker of flame.
The fire was rekindled. The world began to change.
Though it was only a faint light, its glow was enough to bring hope—and to guide the lost souls once more toward a path forward.
"But what does that have to do with him... messing with flowers and plants everywhere?"
Ranni didn't quite understand that part.
The Fire Keeper smiled.
"It's simple."
"Because to us, he is our mission, our faith, and—our everything."
"That world should have died long ago, struggling futilely in endless madness, perishing in ugliness."
"But in the end, he found his own way to bind all that we were to himself. Through that act, he took upon his shoulders the weight of our entire existence."
"When I say 'borne,' I don't mean as a partner. It's just that, once bound so deeply, with emotions intertwined that strongly, not becoming partners would have made things much harder to resolve."
"And that's also why we don't really mind."
"After all, we were all fellow wanderers lost in the darkness, drawn together by that single beam of light. We understood one another's circumstances, and the feelings buried in our hearts."
"Of course, not everything went smoothly."
"In the early days, there were plenty of conflicts. I even heard that some among us clashed quite fiercely."
"But in the end..."
The Fire Keeper paused, as if recalling something amusing, and smiled softly.
Before Ranni could ask, Lloyd—who had just physically "persuaded" a certain shut-in—walked over with the chubby hermit trailing behind him.
After a brief exchange, since there were still matters elsewhere that required the Fire Keeper's attention, and because the two little ones could only help for so long, she made sure there was nothing more they needed from her. Then, to avoid any accidents, she returned to her original world.
As for Ranni...
"What are you looking at?"
Lloyd noticed that after speaking with the Fire Keeper, Ranni's gaze toward him had subtly changed.
It wasn't with more affection or admiration. The barriers between their worlds—and the fact that it had only been a casual conversation—meant the Fire Keeper's words hadn't truly stirred Ranni's emotions. She was merely curious—how had he managed to accomplish all of this?
"You want to know that, huh?"
Hearing her question, Lloyd thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"I wouldn't mind letting you try, but with my current temperature... I doubt you could handle it."
Lloyd's temperature issue wasn't exactly a secret—at least not to those close to his heart (literally speaking)—and Ranni was certainly no exception.
If it were anyone else, they'd probably sigh twice, shake their head, and give up.
But she was Ranni.
The Princess of the Dark Moon.
Beyond her relentless curiosity, she also possessed something that set her apart from others.
"If I remember correctly, your 'cooling' method involves deepening your covenant with Renna to borrow her icy essence, doesn't it?"
As she spoke, Ranni raised her staff and conjured a moon in the air.
Or rather, a Dark Moon radiating a chilling light.
"Then my Dark..."
"Would that not work?"