[Elden Ring] Chapter 64

Only after a short time had passed—once the initial shock began to fade—did the girls start to fully process the situation they were in.

The issue wasn’t just that their Tarnished had been hiding such a terrifying level of swordsmanship this whole time. It was that he used it—defeated the strongest swordswoman in the Lands Between—and already had a plan to teleport them, post-victory, straight into the hidden den of the former Elden Lord himself: the great Dragonlord Placidusax, who barely escaped death by betrayal, and whom he then finished off in mere seconds. As if that towering godlike being hadn’t once been one of the most powerful forces in the world (and sure, maybe he was kind of weakened, so what). And then? He went and completed the thing Miquella had spent decades—centuries—trying to figure out: how to save his sister.

Konstantin could’ve had the favor of a hundred Outer Gods, and it still wouldn’t have made it easier to comprehend the scale of what he’d just done.

The girls now resembled typical Soulslike newbies who just found out bosses can have a second phase.

Kosta, who up until now had never gone into "phase two," had just gifted his waifus the exact same experience every rookie gets when they finally reach the transformation phase and go oh no. Of course, he himself probably wasn’t thinking in those terms.

His priority had simply been finishing a waifu questline—by taking the worst possible ending and snapping it over his knee like a twig.

Did it matter what anyone else thought about that?

...Maybe a little more than he let on.

Malenia hadn’t felt this good in a very long time. In fact, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt such peace. A lifetime of torment, constantly resisting the curse of the Outer God trying to mold her into the Goddess of Rot—she had trusted only one person.

Her brother.

He was the only one who’d come even close to solving her affliction. The one whose sweet words had always melted her resolve, making her bow her head before another cursed, broken being like herself.

The woman slowly removed her helmet, turning to look at the dead dragon who hadn’t even had time to realize what killed him.

“My brother… tampered with my mind,” she whispered.

Now that her thoughts had cleared in a way they never had before, the memories were coming back.

How easily she’d believed him.

How raptly she’d listened to every word.

How she’d taken his promises as divine.

Gentle. Soothing. Perfect. Her one and only hope.

None of that changed the fact that it was thanks to him she’d still been herself for so long. But even so…

He, just like the Outer God, had tried to take her soul for himself. And it wasn’t necessary. Even just for the help he’d given, she would have knelt to him sincerely. But he hadn’t trusted her. Still thought it safer to turn her into a puppet.

That… hurt. And what hurt more was that, in the end, he never came for her. Instead, something else had arrived—something that imposed its own rules through brute force.

Why had it helped her? What was the point?

Malenia focused on the warmth still flowing through her body, speeding up her recovery. She was weak. Deeply so. She had no idea how long it would take to regain her strength.

But the lightness she felt now... the world she now saw with her own eyes, and not just her supernatural senses. Even her skin…

She looked down at her restored hand—smooth, youthful, unscarred, unmarred by calluses or rot. The hand of a noblewoman who’d probably never held anything heavier than a hairbrush.

Honestly, not the worst change.

Malenia might’ve even compared it to their Goddess, who had walked a path far crueler than any of them, and still looked like a flower just beginning to bloom. Or perhaps...

She shifted her gaze to the tall man with the blazing golden eyes, currently studying the cursed eye of Melina, who was frozen stiff, wearing a perfectly unreadable expression.

The eye, kindly gifted to her(1)—and to their brother—by the Goddess, to hold back the thing growing within them. A curse for the children, and a failsafe for the Erdtree.

“A mask that hides nothing,” the thought drifted through Malenia’s mind.

Who would’ve thought that one of the elder daughters of their Queen—forever grumpy, always avoiding everyone—would start showing such… blatant emotion?

Had this follower of an unknown Outer God affected all of them, then? Brainwashed them the same way her brother had?

But then again… if her mind really was under someone else’s control, would she even be thinking about it like this? Or was that exactly how a brainwashed person would think?

Still, the one who’d saved her didn’t seem to need anyone’s help. Miquella had been weak of body, and so he needed her. But Konstantin? He was something else entirely.

Malenia briefly considered purging his warm energy from her body—but then, after thinking on it a little longer, decided against it. Her life had never belonged to her anyway.

She’d lived in chains since birth, consumed by agony no one else could imagine. This freedom—false or not—was worth too much. So much, she’d never be able to repay it.

Konstantin didn’t take long with his ‘tinkering’. The cursed eye turned out to be less dangerous than he thought—more of a limiter than anything, and Melina was never particularly great at handling it.

Maybe if they were somewhere else, the eye would have reacted. But here, in a place where no Outer God’s influence could reach—not unless they were physically present—it was easier. At least, for someone who still carried a little Sun inside him. All the power he’d gathered during his farming spree was still with him.

“Looks way better,” Kosta said flatly, staring at the girl’s eye.

It now glowed with a soft golden light.

Melina blinked in surprise, touching it gently. She could feel that familiar warmth flowing inside it. She knew better than to keep the eye open, but seeing his expression, she decided to trust him—and blinked a few more times.

The embers within her eye didn’t react at all. That was... unusual. Normally, opening it weakened the limiter, which could lead to—

Well, she honestly wasn’t even sure what, exactly.

Still, she understood, more or less, what he’d done: somehow made the already powerful seal even stronger, giving her the freedom to actually use the eye without worrying about it. The ember inside still barely obeyed her, but reinforcing control over it like this made a lot of sense.

“This… feels strange,” she murmured, thinking aloud. “Thank you.”

Maybe she could’ve expressed her gratitude differently, but there were far too many... witnesses.

Konstantin simply nodded, turning his attention to Malenia. The once-rotting waifu’s gaze wasn’t exactly warm, but he could tell—without a doubt—there was no hostility there anymore.

“What is your name, warrior?”

Kosta blinked.

“Konstantin. Just Kosta is fine.”

“I never thought I’d meet a foe like you, Kosta,” the woman said sternly.

The man—who had asked, over and over, to simply be called “Kosta”—had not expected one of the most fearsome women in all of Soulslike history to address him like that.

Ignoring the Tarnished’s brief moment of awkwardness, the woman seemed deep in thought. She rose onto her prosthetic leg and bowed her head.

“My flesh, freed from rot by your will, craves battle anew, but… later. I’m sorry.”

And Konstantin could tell she truly was sorry. He understood Malenia well—he also wouldn’t have minded reliving that sweet ding-ding-ding again…

“I’ll wait until you’ve recovered,” he smiled.

The woman was silent for a few moments.

“One day, the scarlet flower will bloom again. The one who cursed me…”

“I’ll be looking forward to their return.”

Malenia lifted her gaze to the madman, thinking he was joking, but…

No. Konstantin was dead serious. He welcomed the thought that the Outer God of Rot still lived, that it might someday try again to pierce into the Lands Between.

Lunatic. A battle-obsessed lunatic. She had seen it—felt it—in the heat of their clash, but now she was certain.

Malenia lowered her head, then spoke:

“I am in your debt, warrior. My life is yours. Please… allow me to become your blade. The Blade of Kosta.”

The Blade of Kosta. It sounded so awkward to the Tarnished that it actually made him uncomfortable. Still, keeping his usual mask of stoicism in place, he calmly said:

“As you wish.”

Malenia bowed her head even lower, not noticing his tiny hesitation, then slowly rose to glance toward Melina and Millicent.

The first didn’t concern her much. She’d make sure to explain later that she had no intention of taking anything from anyone. Such feelings were foreign to Malenia. What she wanted… was to fight him again.

The second, however…

Malenia had almost approached the frozen Millicent, still staring at her now-uncorrupted hand, but the girl snapped out of it first.

The Blade of Miquella—no, the Blade of Kosta—stood frozen, wide-eyed, watching the girl who, however strangely, was born of her essence suddenly break down sobbing, all joy and raw emotion, practically leaping into the arms of a no less stunned Tarnished and kissing him with such overwhelming feeling that Malenia couldn’t even remember ever experiencing something like that herself.

She hadn’t expected it—from her, of all people.

A small smile crept onto her face.

At the very least, she understood why the reaction was so intense.

Though the smile didn’t last long.

“Miquella, our brother, he…”

“My chosen knows of his plans.”

Melina’s calm voice, watching Millicent’s heartfelt display, surprised Malenia. So it was all already planned, even without her involvement. In that case, she’d help in another way. There were still many followers in the Haligtree—loyal to her, and now, by extension, to the future Lord of the Lands Between. The rot’s source—herself—was gone. That would make it easier.

She had been about to ask a question, but decided to stay quiet and observe. It seemed she still needed to learn more about the man she had pledged herself to.

Still, she had made some observations:

“The Tarnished… is very weak to women, isn’t he?”

Breaking free from the hug of the now-bright-red, battle-hardened waifu, the man suddenly muttered:

“Be right back.”

And disappeared.

A few seconds later, he returned—with a girl in a blindfold, clearly disoriented and not fully understanding where she was.

Apparently, now was the time to heal Irina’s eyes.

Thankfully, he now had not only the power, but the skill to wield it.

“Konstantin?” Irina whispered, startled. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere beyond space and time, in Placidusax’s den,” he replied flatly.

Irina’s blindness wasn’t ordinary. It was better to conduct the healing somewhere absolutely no one could interfere if something went wrong.

She froze.

She had just wanted to go for a walk. But hey…

Taking a walk somewhere beyond space and time, in the hidden lair of a legendary dragon?

Not bad at all.

She smiled.

“I understand.”

Malenia’s gaze flicked back to the dragon’s corpse.

She wondered how the girl would react when she realized she was standing before that dragon from legend…

Then again, maybe it didn’t matter. Some things were more important.

“Hello… I-I’m sorry for acting so impulsively…”

The calm, soft voice of an embarrassed Millicent made Malenia freeze for a moment, then meet Melina’s gaze.

Millicent let out a squeak as she was suddenly pulled into a hug by the woman who could’ve been called her mother. Melina narrowed her eyes with knowing amusement.

The charm of the unbroken red-haired warrior. It wasn’t something they could resist.

A startled scream from Irina—who had just laid eyes on the corpse of a very large dragon—marked the official end of another quest.

This one, fully complete.

For better or worse, Kosta had to keep moving forward.

Maliketh, the Black Blade. Keeper of the Rune of Death. Once loyal to the one he served—the one he could call his sister—who had doomed him to an existence worse than death.

Faithful to his duty, and hating it.

He felt a hunger with every passing second. A gnawing, endless craving that could never be satisfied.

Why had Marika shattered the Ring? Why hadn’t she told him? Why didn’t she ask for help when grief overwhelmed her? Or… had it? Was it just another part of the plan—one doomed to fail from the start?

Maliketh hated the queen. And yet, despite everything, he continued to watch over the Lands Between through a spectral projection, hiding in Farum Azula.

Waiting for the next fool who would try to steal Death from him.

“Tarnished soul…”

Maliketh had expected a strange Tarnished. Even through projection, he could sense the presence of the Empyrean. Honestly, the way this one warped space and time with his dodgerolls was enough to raise some early red flags.

The so-called brother of the Goddess didn’t want to fight Konstantin. He had felt a brief relief, his hunger momentarily quieted. He sensed no greed or aggression from the one so eerily similar to the queen herself.

The Black Blade held a faint hope that the Tarnished wouldn’t come. Would give up the idea of claiming what was not his.

But…

It seemed he was wrong. Again.

“Can’t we just settle this without a fight?”

The question was so out of left field that the enormous wolf beneath the rags froze in place.

He had made it all the way here, through the temple of Farum Azula. There had to be bodies left in his wake. And now…

He was offering to talk it out?

What kind of nonsense was this?

“Why… why do you need the Rune of Death?”

Kosta shrugged.

“Gotta reforge the Ring somehow. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful when I take it out. I don’t need extra cutscenes of destruction.”

Restoring all the runes was impossible. There had once been many more fragments, but most were lost. Practice had shown that under certain conditions, new runes could be forged, but replacing the one that governed Death itself?

That was another matter entirely.

Konstantin’s casual reply filled Maliketh with fury. The fury of a beast dispatched by the Greater Will to guard the Golden Order.

This arrogant Tarnished—bearing the power of an alien Outer God, daring to call himself king—was already preparing to build his own Order, without caring what anyone else thought.

“Who do you think you are, insolent Tarnished?!” the wolf growled.

Kosta raised a skeptical brow. Yeah, it had been stupid to hope this would end peacefully.

At least he tried.

“Just another hobo who stumbled into power. That’s what Soulslikes are all about.”

Maliketh froze again, wide-eyed, staring at the unfazed, half-naked man before him.

And just like that, the conversation ended.

Or rather, it transitioned into a more constructive format.

Maliketh let out a thunderous roar and lunged at the Tarnished. The ground cracked beneath his feet as the weary beast slashed with his claws at the man—who effortlessly dodged—only to strike back with a fist wrapped in golden light.

After all, Rivers of Blood had been destroyed, and he didn’t have another weapon yet…

Not that he really needed one.

Nearly sent flying by Kosta’s blow, Maliketh saw countless stars flash before his eyes. He roared even louder, unleashing a barrage of savage, feral attacks at the man.

Even before Kosta casually clapped a wounded ancient dragon, he had enough strength to defeat the Goddess’s brother. But now, after absorbing the runes of what was once a lord…

A particularly brutal punch sent Maliketh crashing into a pillar, nearly toppling it. The wolf choked, pain ripping through his body.

The Tarnished was too strong. This wasn’t brute force you could fight back against.

Which meant—

“O Dea—”

The poor wolf had barely begun to transition into phase two, starting to release the Rune of Death, when he saw, for just a second, the calm figure appear before him—

—and then Kosta dropkicked him straight through the pillar.

He stood over the unconscious boss, not letting him even touch second phase.

“You are not the only one who can ignore column hitboxes(2),” the man snorted.

Melina appeared at his side, gazing with a bit of pity at the poor wolf. At least he was still alive—just like everyone else they’d encountered on the way.

Lately, Konstantin had stopped casually taking lives from every enemy in sight—with a few exceptions.

And the fake Finger Maiden couldn’t help but be glad. Not just because there wasn’t much life left in their world… but because the “farming” had just become too horrifying.

“What are you planning to do with him, Konstantin?”

Melina’s question made the man pause for a moment.

“Neither he nor Blaidd can disobey the commands burned into their minds… which is why they go insane,” Kosta murmured. “I wonder if it’s possible to remove them. Or at least stop from driving them mad…”

Melina smiled softly at his intent.

These were new mechanics to Kosta, so he’d have to be extra careful.

Still, that was why he had chosen Maliketh first—he was definitely sturdier than the poor half-wolf serving the lunar demigoddess.

Kosta blinked in surprise as he pulled from… wherever he pulls things… a tiny Ranni doll.

It trembled just slightly, catching his attention.

Apparently, that quest was also coming to an end.

Honestly, the peaceful atmosphere inside Stormveil Castle was too soothing to resist for long.

It was too calm. Too comfortable. Used to the oppressive gloom of grimdark fantasy, the demigod had, for the first time in ages, allowed himself to relax.

He ate delicious seafood. Wore proper clothes—impossibly well-tailored by a true master. Took a hot bath, graciously drawn by the heir of Limgrave. Talked to people who didn’t see him as a monster. And though the Omen King wasn’t exactly thrilled that no one saw him as a king…

He wasn’t the true ruler anymore.

And Morgott had come to terms with that. Mostly.

But it seemed the deranged Tarnished wasn’t planning to stop at emotional devastation.

Stormveil Castle fell into a stunned silence as, trailing behind a radiant Irina—her vivid green eyes shining brighter than ever—walked two red-haired women.

Both with prosthetics. Both strikingly similar.

One young, overflowing with emotion, childlike wonder lighting up her face as she took in what was probably one of the most alive places in the Lands Between.

The other…

With every step—marked by the metallic ring of her prosthetics—she brought with her an oppressive, cold, unflinching aura.

The sight of a nearly fully restored, solidly standing Malenia made something inside the demigod freeze. Their eyes met.

But the moment passed without words.

They were distracted by the next scene.

Stepping forward to greet his daughter, Edgar stared disbelievingly into her smiling eyes—eyes so much like his own.

Tears welled up.

“Irina! Praise the Sun…”

He rushed to embrace her, holding her as tightly as he could. So tightly, her smile turned a little strained.

Nepheli’s hearty laughter rang out.

Malenia lifted her gaze to the shining sun overhead. Something about this reminded her of a strange, vivid dream—one that could only be darkened by the knowledge that soon, she might again face the one she had pledged herself to, and served for so long.

Any conversations between demigods, it seemed…

Could wait a bit longer.

(1) This is just one of the theories I found reasonably convincing. Just like with Messmer, there’s something inside Melina that has the power to burn the Erdtree. Considering the Goddess personally replaced Messmer’s eye, it’s not hard to assume she might’ve done the same with her daughter.

(2) In Maliketh’s boss arena, there are pillars you can hide behind to avoid attacks. At least… until an attack randomly phases right through one of those pillars ಠ_ಠ.