That day, Harry went to find Arthur.
He truly couldn't take Draco's constant pestering anymore, so he wanted Arthur to come up with a solution.
"Hm… have you considered the gender-changing potion Hermione brewed last year?" Arthur stroked his chin and said with a playful grin. "Trust me—once you turn into a girl, Draco will definitely stop bothering you."
Arthur still remembered that day vividly. When Harry transformed into a girl, Draco had been completely dumbstruck.
"Arthur, don't joke around," Harry said helplessly. "You know how much of a sensation that caused last time. If I do that again, I'll become the center of attention for the whole school!"
"Technically," Arthur corrected him, "you already are the center of attention."
Draco challenged Harry to a duel every few days. The entire school knew about it by now—every duel drew a crowd.
What surprised Arthur a little was that Harry didn't seem particularly resistant to the idea of turning into a girl. What he really disliked was being watched afterward.
It could only be said that Britain truly lived up to its reputation. Arthur had underestimated British aesthetics.
Just then, Lily appeared from who-knows-where and asked with great interest, "My precious son actually turned into a girl before? Something this fun—and you didn't tell your mother?"
Harry forced a wry smile. "Mum, please don't add fuel to the fire. Turning into a girl isn't exactly something to be proud of. Arthur, could you please help me think of a real solution?"
"Alright," Arthur relented. "How about this—I'll mediate, and the two of you agree to have one official duel every six months, or once a year?"
To be honest, Arthur was already tired of watching their frequent skirmishes. Under public scrutiny, those duels were always restrained—neither side ever went all out.
Watching it once or twice was fine. Watching it over and over again got boring.
"That works. I'll leave it to you," Harry nodded.
Arthur brought Draco over and, under his witness, had Harry and Draco agree to a formal duel once every year after the final exams.
As for the rest of the time—things would proceed as usual.
Final exams were already approaching, and Draco needed to focus on revision anyway. He didn't have much time to mess with Harry.
After all, if his grades were poor, he'd be going home to a very unpleasant "bamboo shoot stir-fry."
Draco agreed without hesitation, and the feud between the two finally came to a temporary halt.
...
The Lands Between — Deeproot Depths.
Arthur finally arrived at the Erdtree's main root.
The moment he looked up, he saw the enormous corpse of the Prince of Death—taller even than the dragons that still roamed the Lands Between today.
Arthur's first thought upon seeing the body was oddly specific:
A mermaid in the sewers.
Not that Japanese movie—just the literal meaning.
The Prince of Death slumped against the Erdtree's roots, head bowed, his lower body ending in a fish-like tail.
With the stagnant water on the ground and the dim, sewer-like surroundings, the comparison was strangely fitting.
Of course, "beautiful" was out of the question.
The Prince of Death had nothing to do with beauty anymore.
His body, not fully dead, had been corroded by the power of the Rune of Death and was now undergoing grotesque mutation.
As Queen Marika and Godfrey's firstborn, Godwyn the Golden had once possessed both peerless beauty and overwhelming strength. Otherwise, he would never have earned the title "the Golden."
But now, his corpse—constantly failing to revive due to the absence of his soul—was warping into something monstrous.
Frankly, Godwyn now looked more sanity-draining than a Cthulhu spawn.
Arthur couldn't help wondering who had placed Godwyn's body here in the first place.
Perhaps their intention had been to use the Erdtree's power to suppress the corrosion of death.
But after the Elden Ring shattered, the Erdtree weakened.
Not only did it fail to suppress Godwyn, but the deathly power within him crept along the Erdtree's roots, spreading throughout the Lands Between—sowing Deathroot in graveyards everywhere.
What should have been tombs for Golden Order fundamentalism—meant to absorb souls and return them to the Erdtree—became breeding grounds for Those Who Live in Death.
The dead gained life once more.
But it was a twisted kind of life.
Because they could not truly die.
The power of death prevented souls from returning, causing the dead to resurrect endlessly from their own remains. Only holy power could put them down for good.
Beyond that, Arthur had another lingering question.
How had the Black Knife Assassins managed to assassinate Godwyn during the Night of the Black Knives?
While exploring Leyndell, Arthur had learned parts of Godwyn's history.
Godwyn had once fought the ancient dragon Fortissax to a standstill.
How could someone of that caliber be caught unprepared and killed?
That was an ancient dragon—just look at Gransax, standing three to four hundred meters tall. Even Arthur couldn't guarantee he could kill a creature of that size.
Wings belonged to the dragon. If it couldn't win, it could always flee. Size didn't mean clumsiness—dragons were terrifyingly fast in flight.
There was also another critical point.
To form two incomplete Cursemarks of Death, two demigods had to die simultaneously.
And everyone knew that there were two initial victims on the Night of the Black Knives.
One was Ranni, whose body died.
The other was Godwyn, whose soul died.
One was at a Divine Tower in Liurnia, the other in the Royal Capital.
There was no way a spontaneous assassination could have synchronized their deaths.
At this point, Arthur formed two hypotheses.
One: Godwyn had been aware—and willingly became one of the first to die.
Two: The Prince of Death's fate had been meticulously planned long in advance.
Perhaps the "conspiracy" in the Night of the Black Knives didn't refer to the assassination itself.
The real conspiracy may have been to let the power of death infest Godwyn—causing him to live on in death—and then spread death throughout the Lands Between via the Erdtree's roots.
This would create Deathroot, taint other life, and turn them into Those Who Live in Death.
That would also explain why Godwyn's corpse lay here, in Deeproot Depths.
It was highly likely that after the assassination, his body had been discarded here by the Black Knife Assassins.
And as far as Arthur knew, only one person could have orchestrated something on this scale.
Queen Marika the Eternal.
If Arthur's second hypothesis was correct, then the ultimate goal of the Night of the Black Knives was to disrupt the Golden Order's system of soul-return via the Erdtree.
This aligned perfectly with Marika's decision to shatter the Elden Ring.
Both acts sought to break rigid hierarchy—allowing life to continue evolving, rather than returning to the Erdtree after death.
There was further evidence.
In the game, after burning the Erdtree, the player is sent to Crumbling Farum Azula.
Although the storm is guarded by Dragonlord Placidusax, he is a hidden boss. The true mandatory boss is Maliketh, the Black Blade—Marika's shadow.
Without killing Maliketh, one cannot enter the Erdtree.
The Rune of Death—Destined Death—is sealed within Maliketh.
Yet among all the Great Runes, this is the only one the player can never obtain.
After Maliketh is slain, the Rune of Death is released.
So where does its power go?
The answer lies with Melina and Godwyn.
In the Frenzied Flame ending, Melina declares that she will deliver Destined Death to the player—killing the Lord of Frenzied Flame.
This was Marika's safeguard.
She never wanted the Frenzied Flame ending.
Thus, she left a portion of the Rune of Death's power with Melina.
But Marika's true intent was to relocate the Rune of Death.
And the person she chose… was her eldest son, Godwyn.
Though Godwyn was corroded by death, he also inherited the Rune of Death's power. Through the spread of death across the Lands Between, he had already become the King of Those Who Live in Death.
When Destined Death was released, Godwyn would gain the majority of its power—further strengthening his dominion over death.
With death's power complete, the possibility of Godwyn reviving from death would only increase.
One day, he might be reborn—much like Miquella's cocoon of slumber.
In fact, his chances were far greater.
Miquella's cocoon had been damaged by Mohg.
But the Prince of Death lay undisturbed in Deeproot Depths, with all the time in the world to await resurrection.
And if fate smiled upon him—if a Deathbed Companion reunited the two Cursemarks of Death into a complete Rune of Death, and a Tarnished used it openly as law to usher in a new age—
Then Godwyn would become a god of both light and shadow.
Even if the Tarnished chose a different ending, Godwyn could still reign as a dark god wielding the Rune of Death.
Even in the Frenzied Flame ending, Melina would hunt down the Lord of Frenzied Flame.
Godwyn, meanwhile, would only need to lie there as a corpse—
Quietly waiting for his era to arrive.
In a sense…
Godwyn the Golden was the greatest winner in the Lands Between.
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