"My friend, honestly, sometimes I feel like you're even crazier than I am..."
Beneath the mask, hollow eye sockets turned toward Lloyd as Chaos spoke with a peculiar tone.
"Didn't you say to call you if anything came up?" Lloyd looked at her. "Or are you backing out now?"
"No…"
Chaos shook her head, then suddenly smiled.
"Forget it. This works too. You've already started rekindling, so I'll give you a hand."
As long as the ending was tragic, she didn't care about the process. And if she could toss in a little more fuel along the way, all the better.
"Alright then, see you later."
With that, Lloyd rubbed the uneasy head of his spectral steed, calmed it down, and took off toward Castle Morne in the direction Irina had described.
Back where they had been, Chaos looked toward Lloyd as he disappeared into the distance, then glanced at Irina, who still didn't seem to understand what was going on. Shaking her head, she sighed softly.
"What a promising seedling… what a waste…"
...
Truth be told, Lloyd didn't think there was anything wrong with asking Chaos to protect Irina.
After all, she seemed to have nothing to do at the Roundtable Hold, and she'd said before she was willing to help. So calling on her when needed felt perfectly reasonable.
Besides, with Soulsborne side quests, the rule was to try everything. For all he knew, when Chaos mentioned helping earlier, she might've meant this exact situation. There was no cost to testing it out anyway.
If he couldn't summon her, that was fine—it just meant the quest wasn't supposed to be triggered at this point. But if he could summon her and didn't, and that led to Irina's death, he might break the entire questline.
He knew all too well from his Souls game days just how obscure and finicky Miyazaki's side quest triggers could be.
Now that things had shifted from a boxed-in world to an open one, and without any hints or guidance—maybe because this wasn't a game but reality—he didn't even want to imagine how absurd it could get. Naturally, he had to try every possible trigger and not miss a single detail. Who knew what kind of content could be lost otherwise?
Clearly, though, his other companion didn't quite understand his logic.
And strangely enough…
She didn't seem all that angry?
To be honest, when he decided to call Chaos, he'd braced himself for Melina's reaction, even after giving her a heads-up.
But in reality, after Chaos showed up, Melina's expression did change, just not nearly as drastically as before.
As for why...
Even Melina had to admit that having the Incarnation of Frenzied Flame serve as a bodyguard—while certainly... creative—didn't really count as "devotion to the Frenzied Flame."
In fact, it kind of went against the very nature of the Frenzied Flame. After all, its ultimate goal was to return the world to chaos, and protecting life ran counter to that. The fact that the Incarnation agreed to help was the most surprising part to her.
And thinking about it more, with the area clearly in turmoil, it was dangerous for the blind girl to be left alone. She did need a dedicated guardian. And since everyone else was tied up, summoning the Frenzied Flame's Incarnation to help...
Still felt incredibly bizarre.
But Melina didn't know what to say.
Sure, they'd summoned the Frenzied Flame, but there wasn't even a trace of reverence toward it. It was like they were ready to drag it along in the opposite direction.
And as for warning Lloyd about the danger of the Frenzied Flame, telling him to stay away—there wasn't really a need.
With his strength, as long as he didn't go actively seeking its blessing, ordinary Frenzied Flame influence wouldn't touch him. If anything, it was more likely to be affected by him.
Still, Lloyd's actions were abstract enough that even Chaos and Melina seemed a little at a loss.
Time passed.
As they neared Castle Morne, in the corner of Lloyd's eye, he noticed Melina, who had been silently moving her lips for a while, finally speak up.
Surprisingly, it wasn't a confrontation, but more like a question.
"Lloyd, I have a question."
"What is it?"
Melina looked straight at him, her expression serious.
"Can you cancel the Frenzied Flame?"
Lloyd: "...?"
What the hell?...
...
After Melina asked, it took Lloyd a while to explain that "cancellation" was a combat-specific mechanic—not some kind of universal magic that could erase anything.
Then how did you cancel your own memories?
Melina was puzzled but chose not to press further.
What she didn't know was that after the explanation, Lloyd himself was deep in thought.
Had he fallen into a fixed way of thinking?
He had just told Melina what "cancellation" was and why it couldn't apply to the Frenzied Flame. But after he finished, it struck him—he wasn't in a simulated world anymore. He had new weapons and two whole systems now.
So did that mean… aside from cancelling mechanics from the souls, he might be able to cancel other things too?
No. He had to find a chance to test that.
As he thought about it, he stayed focused on the road, skipping past minor enemies. Before long, Castle Morne's silhouette emerged ahead.
Using the terrain to dodge the fire from the giant bow-wielding golems outside the walls, he approached, dismounted, struck down several Misbegottens using Bloodhound's Fang with Ashes of War, then followed up with execution blows.
Once the skirmish ended, he stepped through the gate, activated the Site of Grace nearby, and stood at the center of the elevator.
With the grinding hum of gears, the lift rose steadily, and after a dozen seconds or so, the inside of Castle Morne came into view.
It was a wrecked wasteland.
Flames raged, corpses littered the ground, and the air was thick with the stench of blood and smoke. Signs of battle between humans and Misbegotten were everywhere.
A group of Misbegotten, seemingly victorious, knelt before a bonfire. In its flames burned the bodies of both humans and their own kind.
Lloyd stood still at the sight, then let out a long exhale.
Now this—this felt right.
He'd spent ages exploring the map, wandered through graveyards and caves, yet all along, something had felt off about this world as a Souls-like.
Now he finally knew what it was.
"The underworld atmosphere…"
There just hadn't been enough corpses. The lighting was too bright. If they'd just added a few meat hooks strung with bodies and some faint, lingering wails, it'd hit the mark perfectly.
Drawing the Bloodhound's Fang, Lloyd stepped forward.
Using Throwing Daggers to lure and dispatch a few Misbegotten ahead, he pushed on until he came across a pumpkin-headed elite enemy.
After taking it down, he turned toward a corner behind where the creature had stood. There was a ladder leading upward—and beside it, a strange-looking Misbegotten.
It was tall, with scaled skin, wings sprouting from its back, an oversized throat sac compared to typical hybrids, and a head crowned with a mass of warped, twisted horns.
On one cheek, embedded in its flesh, was a black shard—just like the one Lloyd had seen on Chaos.
An elite mob?
Lloyd walked up to it. But even when he stood right in front of the creature, it made no move to attack. Instead, it simply looked up at the ongoing battle between humans and Misbegotten on the city wall and let out a quiet sigh.
"In the past, life was blended—no distinction between one and the other."
"But now, with the evolution of life and the progress of civilization, all that's brought is division and conflict…"
He turned to look at Lloyd.
"My friend from afar, what are your thoughts on this?"
"Don't understand."
Faced with the strange Misbegotten's question, Lloyd shook his head. "If you're asking how to deal with that mess over there, my advice? Just go in and beat up both sides. Then, whoever's still standing, beat them again—keep at it until no one's left to fight."
The strange Misbegotten: "..."
"My friend, that's not a very funny joke."
"I'm not joking."
Lloyd paused, then had a sudden realization.
"Oh, you're worried you can't win? I can come with you if that helps."
"...Is there really no option besides violence?"
"Nope."
Lloyd pointed to the Misbegotten corpses on the ground.
"When I was killing them just now, I noticed the wounds. They didn't look fresh—too many, too deep. Definitely signs of long-term abuse. And now their brains are splattered all over. I don't think this is something you can solve by talking."
"That's... an incredibly straightforward answer."
He hesitated.
"Then how do you see this situation?"
"Through my eyes."
Lloyd replied offhandedly, "Not joking here—since I'm human, of course I lean toward the human side. But that doesn't mean the Misbegotten deserved to be tortured like this, or that they shouldn't fight back. Still, with a riot this big? Don't expect me to believe there weren't innocent people caught in the crossfire."
This wasn't just a guess on Lloyd's part. On the way here, he'd kept an eye on the ground, just in case he missed any glowing spots.
Among the human corpses, only a handful were wearing soldier armor. Which meant the rest...
Lloyd shook his head.
"Anyway, I'm just here to deliver a message, not play moral judge."
"...Deliver a message?"
The strange Misbegotten blinked. He had spent all that time trying to figure out why this guy had shown up—he was even ready to fight on sight. But delivering a message?
"Delivering to who? If needed, I can fly you there."
"Oh, no need. I plan to scout the area a bit while I'm at it. If you've got nothing else, I'll be off."
"Go ahead."
With that, the conversation ended. Lloyd climbed the nearby ladder and began scouting the area, casually clearing out the Misbegotten and humans blocking his path.
Yes—both Misbegotten and humans. For some reason, Castle Morne seemed to treat him as an enemy too, even teaming up with the Misbegotten to attack him at times.
So Lloyd took his time, methodically clearing the map.
The strange Misbegotten following behind had a conflicted expression.
He'd already sensed in their earlier talk that Lloyd didn't seem to harbor any particular hatred toward the Misbegotten—and in some ways, they felt similar...
But now, he realized Lloyd's kind of "non-discrimination" was different from his.
He believed that as beings born of the Crucible—once undivided—humans and Misbegotten were kin, and shouldn't be split apart, let alone at war with each other.
But Lloyd? He was the complete opposite. He treated everyone the same—by killing them all.
And strangely... it seemed to work.
But still...
"Aren't you here to deliver a message?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't map the area while I'm at it."
As they talked, Lloyd finally found the one he was supposed to deliver the letter to—Irina's father, Edgar, the castellan seated at the highest point of the fortress.
"Oh, I haven't seen you before. I'm Edgar, holding this castle on Lord Godrick's orders…"
"But you've seen the state we're in. All the servants have rebelled. I thought they were dutiful—turns out it was all a front. True defilers, through and through, even their hearts are tainted."
"Even if you've come with requests, Castle Morne can't grant any right now. Take this small token of apology. Now go—there's no reason for you to risk your life here."
"Hm? A letter from Irina? I see… Thank you for looking after my daughter. But I can't leave. As the lord of Castle Morne, I can't let that sword fall into the hands of the defilers..."
"The Misbegotten are not defilers. Like you, they are beings born from what was once undivided."
The strange Misbegotten stepped forward, and Edgar instantly grew wary. But then he noticed something odd—despite the creature's bizarre appearance, it wasn't stained with blood at all. Clearly, it hadn't taken part in the uprising.
"You…"
Edgar started to speak, but before he could say anything, the Misbegotten's throat swelled—and a torrent of golden flames burst forth.
Moments later, the fire faded. Edgar, expecting to be scorched alive, was stunned to find himself completely unharmed. In fact… he felt stronger?
No—something wasn't right.
Reaching for his head, Edgar suddenly realized horns had grown there—horns like those of the strange Misbegotten. His arms were now covered in tough, scaly skin.
He froze, expression dulling.
He… had turned into a Misbegotten?
"You're right," the creature said, turning to Lloyd. "Sometimes, using power directly does make things simpler."
It gave a slight nod.
"Come with me. I know where the sword is—I'll take you there."
Lloyd glanced at Edgar's transformation, then nudged the strange Misbegotten.
"Hey, buddy, think I can learn that? Looks sick—and probably boosts a ton of stats."
But the Misbegotten didn't answer, just led him to a golden fog gate outside the city.
Pushing it open, they found a Leonine Misbegotten wielding a massive, strange greatsword. But the creature didn't attack. After a brief pause, it solemnly offered the greatsword to the strange Misbegotten with both hands, then silently stepped aside.
Standing in the center of the chamber, the Misbegotten turned to Lloyd.
"My friend, I apologize for having doubted you before."
Golden flames ignited on the Grafted Blade Greatsword, flickering with the light of life.
"Until now, I thought you were like 'it'—the same destruction, the same chaos, the same madness."
"But now, I believe perhaps my strength could be put to better use in your hands."
"Life has already splintered. Civilization's mistakes have twisted it, and shards from beyond this world have made everything unstable."
"I don't agree with 'its' goal of returning all things to chaos—but perhaps… some destruction is necessary to forge a new order."
"I don't get it." Lloyd shook his head and drew his Bloodhound's Fang. "So basically, we're gonna fight, right?"
"You can take it that way."
He stood tall, a magnificent, intricate golden sigil blooming behind him. His body shifted—organs morphing, countless forms fusing together, as though hundreds of creatures were merging into one.
Chaos. Indescribable. Yet somehow full of life.
He lifted his gaze. In his eyes, golden flames burned.
"Take this strength."
He raised the greatsword high.
A hundred forms unfurled.