And there I was, striding out with all the flair of a hero, draped in a black-and-gold cloak, my magical spear resting on my shoulder.
Then I noticed the boulder at the gate stirring. But it wasn't a boulder—it was some creature in a grimy gray cloak. A genuine demon, massive, horned, hairy, wielding a wooden staff instead of a trident. When it stood up to its full—though slightly hunched—it still radiated a menacing presence.
"Another one," the demon sneered contemptuously. "A pathetic extinguished soul, driven by the flames of vanity."
"Excuse me… are you Margit the Terrible?" I asked.
…
The demon faltered. It seemed like he wanted to continue, but I cut him off. Or rather, after his initial statement, he paused, and I assumed he was done speaking, so I began to engage. He, however, was ready to speak again, leading to a brief awkward silence.
"Yes," he sighed. "I am the Omen of Terror awaiting you, the one who will extinguish your flame. You shall not claim the Elden Ring!"
"Oh, I have no interest in that," I waved him off.
"Hnn?" The demon squinted, displeased.
"Could you, perhaps, point me toward the library?"
"What?" Margit didn't understand.
"I intend to become a mage. I'm heading to the Raya Lucaria Academy. I've heard their magical library is still the finest in all the Lands Between. Keep your rings—they're of no concern to me. Ruling over these ruins? Pfft…"
I wasn't entirely honest—my future plans did involve the great runes—but at the moment, I truly had no interest in them. In a sense, I wasn't lying. The demon even seemed to ponder my words. My voice and gaze betrayed my genuine fascination with magic.
"Very well, so be it," he concluded, striking his staff on the ground.
The earth trembled.
I stepped back, bracing for an attack, but none came.
"If we meet again, you will die, extinguished one," Margit threatened.
Then he vanished, dissipating into a silver mist like a spirit. I still felt his presence for a few seconds, much like with Melina, but it soon faded entirely, confirming that the giant had left the area.
Roger came up beside me.
"What… why did he leave?" the mage asked, puzzled.
"Ah, well, I threatened him… he got scared and ran off."
The boy gave me a skeptical look.
"Fine. Let's keep moving," I rolled my eyes, heading toward the gates.
Specifically, I was interested in a huge hole in the wall near a lowered portcullis. As we approached, a weary-looking man peeked out before retreating behind the wall. He still looked like a pale zombie, though a bit better off than most locals I'd seen. I wondered why no one had repaired these gaps. Then I answered myself: who would? Walking half-corpses that barely remember who they are?
Closer inspection revealed wooden walkways and awnings, though some boards were rotting. The place looked ancient. Attempts had been made to patch the gaps, but clearly, nothing effective came of it.
"Extinguished!" a voice called as we entered.
It was the pale, skinny servant we'd seen earlier.
"If you want to go through the gates, better not," he warned. "This section of the castle is heavily guarded. Use that hole to reach the inner chambers. There's guard there too, but they're weaker."
"Hmm?" Roger looked around, evaluating the passage. "And why are you helping us?"
"Why?" The servant glanced around furtively. "Because demigods are dragging all of us into the abyss! Only the extinguished can make a difference. My mind hasn't decayed enough to ignore that."
"Alright… noted."
"And the gates are closed anyway," I shrugged.
"If you insist, I can signal to raise them," the servant offered. Convenient.
"But I advise taking the detour."
Roger and I exchanged a glance.
"Real heroes always take the detour," I remarked.
"What? Aren't… oh, it's a joke!"
Leaving the servant among the ruins, we squeezed through the wall's gap. A ledge allowed passage to the castle's other side—but…
"Oh… yeah," my head spun at the sight of the cliff we had to cross.
"Afraid of heights?" the mage snorted.
He calmly stepped onto the ledge and crossed to a sturdier section. I followed, but at the narrowest point, I slipped.
I had to try again.
Even the second attempt wasn't smooth. I reached Roger, but while he jumped neatly across the narrow ledge, I clung like a caterpillar. I must have looked ridiculous. I tried again. And again. Only on the seventh attempt did I manage to cross the ledge without losing face.
Then I finally saw the storm hawks in person. On a cliff beside the castle wall, several of them perched. At first glance, they looked fine—but closer inspection revealed augmentations: limbs amputated and replaced with blades, wings bound with chains. Despite injuries and extra weight, they could still fly, but slower and unable to use their whirlwind abilities. We didn't interfere, passing cautiously.
Wooden walkways led upward, guarded, but we didn't linger. I wanted to deal with opponents quickly to claim their runes, not share them. Roger seemed less focused on the runes, surveying for passages to the dungeons.
Then we entered the inner chambers…
Explosion!
A fiery wave hurled the mage back and singed my clothes. Gunpowder barrels scattered throughout the room erupted. Parts of the wall collapsed, threatening to bury us.
After a quick rewind…
"Wait," I held Roger back.
I sped ahead, slowing time, to deal with the servants. They were messing with grenades, rudimentary but dangerous—like Kale's work, just bigger. This castle would never be rebuilt with such builders. I confiscated the remaining explosives.
"Come on, I cleared the way," I returned to the astonished mage.
"Ah… okay… but wait… what kind of magic? No, it… speed blessing? Never heard of that."
"Don't worry about it," I waved.
From then on, Roger watched me closely. I was used to Melina not questioning my abilities. I didn't plan to hide them, but explaining everything wasn't in my agenda either.
"We can't descend here…"
"Let's climb up and traverse the walls."
"Hmm, fine."
We ascended, and suddenly a knight emerged from a room. His armor clanged, and he turned to face us. I noted his armor was surprisingly well-made: full plate covering every vulnerable gap, joints shielded, only a narrow eye slit exposed. He raised his shield instantly, ready for combat.
"Extinguished…" His voice chilled through the helm.
Surprisingly intelligent. At least, he could speak.
"Um, maybe we don't fight? We're not challenging Godrick," I tried reasoning.
"Doesn't matter," he cut me off.
He lunged with a powerful strike. The wind from his swing threw me off, but my combat instincts, honed from training and battles, allowed me to react almost reflexively. Before his greatsword reached my neck, I slowed time with a sand-like whirl, freezing the moment.
"Your fault," I muttered, slipping behind him.
The knight's back was less protected. I struck with my magical dagger through the eye slit.
"Nice…" Roger muttered, impressed.
I took the knight's sword and armor into my realm.
We faced more guards and servants, eventually breaking into a tower linked to the castle wall. From there, we reached the first floor of the internal chambers, leading to the inner courtyard.
Here we found the spider: a grotesque, fused amalgam of bodies and limbs. At first glance, it resembled the spawn I had already dealt with. Perhaps it had undergone some local form of rebirth. The concept, weapon, and grim cloak were similar, though the limb fusion and face differed—the spider's head was male, but features subtly feminine.
"Looks like the knights of Roderica," I whispered.
"Who?" Roger asked.
"On the way to Stormveil, I met an extinguished woman. She said knights came to the Lands Between with her and were turned into spiders."
The mage frowned.
"One knight we fought is an exile. Godrick took some into his service; now they hunt the extinguished."
"Hmm…"
"Stay here. I need to speak to the spider."
"You're insane! Don't approach it—it'll eat you!"
"Heh, I promised a girl to deliver a message to her knights. Don't worry, I've dealt with these creatures; they're not as deadly as they seem."
I descended into the hall, the spider confined due to its size.
"And this is my business. Better stay put," I added.
Another guard lurked nearby. I neutralized him to prevent interference.
The hall had several servants warming by the fire, ignoring me. Most locals were hostile. The servant guiding us through the wall was a rare exception.
I addressed the servants:
"Greetings, I am Kron. Yes, I'm extinguished, but we don't need to…"
As expected, they drew weapons. I left the scene, blood streaking my dagger.
"Hss…"
The spider noticed and moved toward me, shield and golden sword ready. I summoned my magical spear.
"Before we start… a girl asked me to deliver a message. Do you know Roderica?"
The spider froze, astonished. Its once impassive face now contorted with realization.
"Gos… plea…" it rasped, shoulders sagging under sword and shield, but it did not release them.
"You remember," I sighed. "She regrets not helping, and she loves her knights."
The spider's face twisted with despair, grief, and rage.
"GYRAAA!" it roared, lunging at me.
I slowed time, struck with golden shards, unleashing over a dozen projectiles piercing its massive body. Then, I delivered a finishing strike with the golden cutter, cleaving it nearly in half.
Enough.
The spider collapsed, fragments scattering. It dropped its shield, pointing a hand toward a passage.
"There… take…" it whispered in its last breath.
I saw a dark entrance leading somewhere. Roger followed, noting the remaining humanity in the spider.
"Godrick will pay," I muttered, heading toward the passage, stifling the stench of rot.
"Careful!" Roger warned.
Two golden blades pierced the flayed dogs that had noticed us. The scent of fresh flesh drew them more than the rotting corpses piled here. A troll hung from hooks, drained of blood, barely breathing.
I felt the spirits' presence intensify, converging on the pile of remains.
"The parts the spider didn't claim," Roger murmured.
I retrieved a small red bundle with a golden brooch, attracting the knights' spirits. They wanted me to deliver it to the girl.
We silently made our way to the courtyard, the main goal aligned with the companion of the dead.
"Blocked here, can't descend," I observed.
"Can you deal with the guards? I want to inspect that wall," Roger asked.
"Wait a moment…"
I entered the courtyard, blades ready. Many guards, but ill-prepared for an attack from inside. Time control gave me a huge advantage. A thorough sweep would temporarily disrupt Godrick's work on new spiders. The guards weren't suitable for augmentation anyway.
I agreed with Roger and Nephili—augmentation was grotesque. The longer I stayed, the more I considered challenging the demigod. I didn't need his great rune now, but stopping these abominations seemed crucial.
After clearing the courtyard, I summoned Roger and we headed to the wall. Stormveil's cliffside location created irregular architecture, with internal walls concealing a deep crevice.
"I think I see someone down there…" the mage squinted.
"Exactly where we need to go," I sighed. "How do we descend?"
Roger looked at me helplessly.
"There must be a way down," he noted. "It's part of the fortress."
Logical.
Eventually, we found a collapsed staircase. No climbing skills would help here.
"We can try a rope," I shrugged.
We found a detour through semi-ruined chambers leading to the lowest part of the castle.
"Brr… strange feeling here," Roger commented.
"Hmm? I don't feel anything unusual."
The air was cool, but nothing else.
We descended into the abyss of Stormveil, home to enormous, grotesque rats. Stepping down, the surrounding rocks trembled.
At that moment, I felt something…
"There is death here…" Roger exhaled tensely.
A persistent, intrusive sense of impending danger. Something was about to happen.