Chapter no.72 Dark Souls

Chapter no.72 A Sinful Woman?!

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Naruto didn't even have time to celebrate.

The moment the dragon's soul dissipated, his body reminded him violently that he was not okay.

His left arm had gone numb.

At first, he thought it was just exhaustion. But then he saw them. Whitish-blue crystals had erupted from his forearm, shoulder, and even between his fingers. They were jagged growths that looked like splinters of soul energy frozen mid-detachment. Each one pulsed faintly, glowing like shattered ice under moonlight.

"Shit," he muttered, voice strained as a clone rushed to his side.

"Hold still," the clone said, kneeling beside him. "This is gonna suck."

And it did.

The first shard came out with a wet crunch, tearing through muscle like a barbed hook. Blood spurted. Naruto clenched his teeth so hard he felt his jaw tremble. The clone didn't wait as he ripped one after another from the meat of his bicep, from the soft skin between his fingers, even from beneath his nail beds. Each removal left a small hole; some narrow, others deep and jagged. The pain was like frostbite and electrocution all at once... numbing, but still capable of making his vision blacken at the edges.

Naruto panted, sweat dripping from his brow. "Never... doing that again... without gloves."

"Yeah, I'm not even you and I feel violated," the clone said dryly before holding up a talisman.

Golden light surged.

The Heal miracle washed over him, soothing the torn flesh, knitting together muscle, mending bone. The pain eased... but didn't vanish. Even as the holes closed, a strange stiffness lingered.

Naruto flexed his fingers experimentally. The motion was sluggish, like the nerves weren't sure they existed anymore. His skin felt stretched, almost fake—like paper that had been soaked then dried too fast. He shook the arm out, jerking it up and down. The tingling remained.

"When I did this with Beatrice," he muttered, frowning at the hand that had just nearly exploded, "her catalyst didn't blow up. My arm didn't end up looking like a cursed popsicle."

Clearly, he still had a long way to go.

The technique was incredible, but it wasn't something he could rely on in the middle of a fight. Too long to set up. Too draining. Too risky.

"And now I know it literally eats my arm from the inside out," he muttered.

But the payoff... Naruto glanced across the ravine where the Undead Dragon had once been. If that blast had hit someone like Zabuza, he would be gone. That thought alone made Naruto grin through the pain.

"Definitely a trump card," he whispered. "But more like a 'hope I survive using it' card."

He turned his attention back to his loot, trying to distract himself from the lingering ache.

First up: the Astora Straight Sword.

It was nearly a mirror of Oscar's blade—sleek silver guard, polished steel, engraved filigree along the fuller, and that faint, telltale hum of divinity clinging to its edge. But... it wasn't his master's.

Naruto could feel it. Whoever had carried this one hadn't shaped it with the same soul. It wasn't his sword.

Still...

He slid it into his inventory with a nod.

"Nice to have a spare."

Next up was the Dragon Crest Shield.

[Item: Dragon Crest Shield]
[Description: Shield of a nameless knight, likely a high-ranked knight of Astora. One of the enchanted blue shields. The Dragon Crest Shield greatly reduces fire damage.]

Naruto lifted it from the inventory, holding it up so the sun could hit its surface. The polished blue gleam shimmered like still water, casting faint ripples of light across his arm.

He flipped it over, inspecting the craftsmanship with a slow, thoughtful hum.

It was nearly identical to Oscar's Crest Shield in size and shape—same Astoran steelwork, same reinforced rim. But where Oscar's bore the proud lion of Astora, this one carried a different mark. A dragon, etched in fluid, curling lines, wings spread and mouth open in a silent roar.

"Different houses?" he muttered aloud. "Or maybe a different order of knights?"

He didn't have enough history to be sure, but it made sense.

Whatever the truth, the shield's enchantment was unmistakable. Even without testing it, Naruto could feel the heat resistance woven into its frame. The way the air around it dulled slightly, as though warding off invisible embers.

"Fireproof. Definitely keeping that."

He slid it into his inventory and turned to the real prize—the thing he'd been itching to examine ever since he had seen the Undead Dragon.

The Dragon Scale.

He pulled it free, cradling it in both hands. It was massive, easily half the size of his torso and incredibly heavy to the point the scale could work as a shield. Its surface was textured with fine, natural ridges, a greenish-bronze sheen shimmering faintly beneath its scarred exterior.

It was beautiful.

[Item: Dragon Scale]
[Description: Dragon scale for reinforcing dragon weapons. Peeled from an ancient dragon. A dragon is inseparable from its scales, and the transcendent apostles, who seek the perpetuity of the ancient dragons, have crossed the very end of the earth to seek this invaluable treasure.]

Naruto's brow lifted as he read the message. "Reinforce dragon weapons, huh..."

His eyes flicked to the Drake Sword strapped to his side, lips tugging into a grin. Now that was exciting. The sword was already a powerhouse. If he could make it stronger? That was a game-changer. But it wasn't the upgrade that truly caught his attention.

Transcendent apostles who seek the perpetuity of the ancient dragons.

Naruto turned the scale over again in his hands, more slowly this time. The phrase echoed in his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch.

His eyes gleamed with curiosity. Was there a way to gain their power? His thoughts ran wild. What would it mean to become like a dragon? Immense power? Wings? Fire? Immortality?

Transformation?

He chuckled at the image in his head—a version of himself towering above his enemies, wings spread, eyes glowing like molten gold. People would run. Gato would panic. And yeah... it'd be cool as hell.

Naruto hummed, sliding the scale back into his inventory as he began making his way toward the spiral path leading back to Rickert.

But beneath that excitement, a question lingered: What would the power of the dragons actually cost?

Because in Lordran, everything had a price. And for those who sought the power of perpetuity of dragons... the price was always higher than they realized.

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Naruto suddenly popped his head through the tiny upper window of Rickert's cell, grinning wide. "Boo!"

Rickert jolted with a start, nearly knocking over his tools. "What in the?!"

Naruto laughed, dropping down from above with an acrobatic flip, landing with a proud smirk. "Man, you should've seen your face!"

"How did you even get up there?"

"Oh, a master prankster never reveals his secrets," Naruto said with a cheeky finger-wag.

"Fine. Keep your secrets," Rickert muttered, brushing off his sleeves. "I'll figure it out eventually."

"Great. While you're solving that mystery, I've got a real one for you. Can you reinforce a dragon weapon?"

Rickert raised an eyebrow, arms folding. "Well, as the best smith in Vinheim... yes, I can. If you've got a dragon weapon and a dragon scale, I can forge them together… but considering how rare those are..."

He stopped mid-sentence. Because Naruto had casually placed the Drake Sword on the windowsill. Then, with no ceremony whatsoever, he began forcing a massive, bronze-gleaming Dragon Scale in after it, grunting with effort.

Rickert stared at the absurdity. "...How?"

Naruto, still wrangling the scale through the tight space, answered without missing a beat. "Cut off the tail of a Hellkite Wyvern for the sword. Got the scale from an Undead Dragon in the valley up above."

"You... you went to the Valley of Drakes?"

"Yup," Naruto grunted. "Oh, and there's this weird, nasty cave nearby that smells like old feet."

"That would be Blighttown. One of the entrances, at least."

Naruto blinked. "Oh. That's where the second Bell of Awakening is."

Rickert gave a solemn nod.

Naruto let out a long, groaning sigh. "So the second bell is in a giant, stinking cave system full of disease, decay, and probably things that bite."

"Technically, it's more of an underground city," Rickert corrected.

Naruto made a face. "How many underground cities are there in this hellhole?"

"More than you'd expect. That's just how Lordran works. The gods live above. Everyone else gets shoved deeper. The lower your status, the deeper you go into dirt, into ruins… and if you go low enough, you'll find the Abyss."

Naruto muttered, "Cheerful place, huh?"

"Depends on your perspective," Rickert said with a half-smile.

"Alright, back on track. Dragon scale upgrade?"

Rickert turned, already reaching for his tools. "Yeah. That'll cost you ten thousand souls."

"Please tell me that was a joke."

"I'm not joking. To reinforce a dragon weapon with a scale, I need to melt the scale down to liquid form—magma-hot. Then I wrap it around the blade, forge it again, and rebind the magic inside it. To do that..."

Naruto finished Rickert's words for him with a sigh. "You need to burn souls to strengthen the flame."

"Exactly," Rickert nodded. "You could try doing it on your own, sure... but it'll still cost you ten thousand souls."

"Okay, fine. Let's do it."

"Splendid." Rickert turned and opened a heavy iron cupboard. Inside, nestled within a cage of silver runes, was something Naruto hadn't seen before: an ember that glowed faintly blue, cold light rippling off it like the surface of an icy lake. It pulsed with restrained power entirely unlike the orangish ember Andre used, whose heat could be felt from across a forge.

"That's a Vinheim ember, isn't it?"

Rickert gave a pleased hum. "Good eye. I'd love to show you the difference. Andre's flame burns hot. Ours... does not. Vinheim flames are cold. Controlled. Magical. Like the spells we weave into the world."

Naruto pulled out the Astoran ember from his own inventory, a warm flicker of orange heat cradled in a compact, brass container—a gift from Andre, after he taught Naruto how to reinforce weapons himself. The contrast between the two embers was clear even before they touched the forge.

One was passion. The other, precision.

Naruto held up a ten-thousand-soul drop and, with a flick, cast it into the waiting blue ember. The forge flared to life. Cold flames surged with an eerie shimmer, casting a spectral glow across the chamber as the soul was devoured.

Rickert muttered a quick incantation, then took up the Drake Sword and the Dragon Scale. He laid them both on the anvil before gingerly lowering the scale into the forge.

It hissed.

Then bubbled.

The scale began to melt, not in fire, but in light—glowing blue magma pooling like liquid steel infused with magic. Then Rickert gripped the Drake Sword in tongs and, with practiced precision, plunged it into the molten scale.

And something strange happened.

Veins began to ripple through the liquified scale, spidering up the length of the blade like the soul of the dragon was clawing its way into the metal. The air vibrated with power, and Naruto stepped back instinctively as the forge roared with unnatural sound.

Finally, Rickert quenched it.

With a hiss and billow of steam, he pulled the reforged sword free.

The blade had changed. Its surface now bore a more rough, stone-like texture. It wasn't just stronger. It felt... awake.

Naruto stepped forward, gingerly taking it in his hand.

He felt it. A flicker. A trace. The same draconic aura he had felt during his soul vision, the awe and pressure of the Everlasting Dragon. This wasn't the same overwhelming force, but the residue of it clung to the weapon like dust to old bones.

"...Whoa," Naruto breathed.

"That was harder than I expected. Anything else you need?"

"Yeah, actually," Naruto said, looking up. "What's the difference between an Astoran blacksmith and a Vinheim one? Aside from temperature and, you know, cage placement."

Rickert chuckled. "Skill aside, it mostly comes down to embers, what types we're trained to handle for ascension. Andre can create standard weapon ascension. Me? I do magic."

"Magic ascension?!"

Rickert gave a smug smile. "If you've got green titanite, I can ascend that massive black Zweihander of yours into a magic weapon. Vinheim style."

Naruto groaned. "Green titanite again? Seriously? I need it for divine weapons, and now magic too? And of course I don't have any..."

Rickert rummaged through his box and held up a single, moss-green shard, glinting with latent energy. "I do."

Naruto raised a brow. "Alright, what's your price?"

Rickert didn't answer right away. He stared down at the green titanite shard in his hand for a long, quiet moment before finally speaking, voice lower than usual. "Just... come back once in a while," he said softly. "Talk to me. Even if it's just nonsense."

"That's it?"

Rickert chuckled, but it wasn't his usual humor. It sounded hollow. "I know it's pathetic," he murmured, eyes still fixed on the shard. "But you spend enough time in a cage, and even the sound of your own voice starts to feel like a stranger's. The world keeps turning out there. Up there. But down here, I'm stuck. And sometimes, I wonder if I'm even real anymore."

Naruto stayed quiet, unsure of what to say.

"So yeah. You want a deal? That's mine. Just a little conversation now and then. It keeps me from slipping. Keeps the silence from winning."

Naruto walked up to the bars, crouched beside the cell window, and gave him a small, sincere smile. "Rickert, you're not pathetic. You're just human. And you've been more than helpful. So yeah... I'll come back. Promise."

For a moment, Rickert just stared at him. Then he sniffed and gave a sharp, sarcastic sigh. "Well, that's bloody embarrassing," he muttered, straightening up and quickly wiping at the corner of one eye. "You show a little emotion and suddenly you're the tragic Vinheim shut-in. Might as well start writing poetry on the walls."

Naruto snorted. "Want me to bring you a notebook next time?"

"Please do," Rickert deadpanned. "And maybe a mirror, so I can look deep into my soul while I work."

"Deal. Now how about that weapon?"

Rickert rolled up his sleeves with exaggerated flair, mood shifting like a coin flip. "Right. Let's turn your oversized can-opener into the most magical death stick this side of Anor Londo. Hand over that Zweihander, friend."

Naruto grinned, excitement buzzing in his chest as he handed over the Zweihander.

But then he paused.

His fingers lingered on the hilt for just a second longer. He remembered the blast. The shattered catalyst. The crystalline veins in his arm. That strange, beautiful destruction he had barely survived.

"Rickert," he said suddenly, pulling the sword back before the smith could reach it. "What exactly is a magic weapon?"

"Hrm. That's a good question."

Rickert tapped a finger to his chin. "To put it simply... it's like giving your soul something to hit the world with. A spell turned permanent. Think of it like... condensing your will into steel."

Naruto's eyes narrowed, the words echoing in his mind. Giving your soul something to hit the world with. If that was true... and if soul magic could mix with chakra...

"I could amplify it," Naruto murmured.

"Sorry?"

Naruto waved him off. "Nothing. Just thinking."

His gaze dropped to the Zweihander again. He didn't want to lose his favorite weapon. "...Let's make something else instead," he said.

"Something smaller?"

Naruto nodded, pulling a hand axe from his inventory—the crude, iron weapon he'd started with back in his pyromancer class. The thing had seen better days, but it had history.

"This one."

"That's your backup?"

Naruto smirked. "More like a test subject."

"Well, it'll need to be reinforced first," Rickert said, pointing to the axe's chipped edge and worn hilt.

Naruto didn't argue. He reached into his pouch and produced ten titanite shards, laying them across the windowsill like poker chips.

Rickert whistled low.

Several hours passed.

By the time Rickert handed the weapon back, it looked nothing like the worn tool it had been. Now, it was blackened steel, with a deep sapphire-blue vein running through the blade like lightning trapped in iron. When Naruto held it, the vein pulsed faintly beneath his touch.

He felt the energy stir within it. It felt like an extension of his soul.

"Alright..." he muttered, more to himself than Rickert.

He poured a stream of chakra into the handle. The blue vein sparked, and then glowed white-hot.

Naruto grinned. "Okay. That's good."

CRACK.

The axe head detonated with a sharp bang.

Naruto's eyes widened as he dropped the smoking handle and dove out of the way. Fragments of metal slammed into the stone wall behind him, and Rickert vanished in a panic beneath the workbench in his cell.

Silence.

"...You alive?" Rickert called, peeking up with wide eyes.

"Yeah," Naruto groaned, brushing dust from his shoulders. "Just lost some hearing. Again."

He walked over to the scattered debris, squinting at the fragments. Something shimmered between the broken shards. A crystalline lump—small, jagged, and faintly pulsing with energy.

"Rickert," he asked, holding it up, "any idea what this is?"

The blacksmith stared at it for a long time. Then he inhaled sharply. "That's... that's crystallized soul," he muttered. "Hrm... I didn't think it was real."

"What do you mean?"

"In Vinheim," Rickert said slowly, "there were always whispers. Old theories passed around like ghost stories. That if your soul could press hard enough against reality, it could become so dense, so absolute, that it would crystallize. Like frozen light. A moment of will turned solid."

Naruto stared at the fragment. And it clicked. His soul cannon. That spiraling beam of destruction. It hadn't been just an amplified spell. It was the final form of Soul Arrow—by allowing the soul to press against reality via chakra.

"I guess that explains the catalyst and axe," he said. "They weren't breaking. I was overclocking them." He sat back, his hand still cradling the shard. "Beatrice pulled it off. No explosions. No backlash. Just pure control."

Rickert raised a brow. "Beatrice?"

Naruto took a moment before telling the man about his adventures in the Darkroot Garden, Beatrice, chakra, and the combination of the two systems.

Rickert fell silent for a long moment. Then he pressed a hand to his mouth, thinking. "Listen to me, Naruto," he said finally, his voice low. "A word of advice from a friend."

Naruto's eyes met his, sensing the shift in tone.

"Don't show that off," Rickert said. "Not to strangers. Not to allies. Not unless you absolutely have to. You're walking around with something no one in Lordran understands. And that means they'll want to understand it. Or worse... control it."

Naruto felt the truth in those words. "But how bad could it be?" he asked quietly. "Hypothetically?"

Rickert exhaled, his gaze drifting toward the far wall. "Hypothetically? The worst case would be... Seath."

Naruto blinked. "Seath the Scaleless?"

Rickert nodded grimly. "The albino dragon. Creator of soul magic. There are... rumors. That he has experimented on humans. Kidnapped them. Twisted them. Trying to force his knowledge into flesh."

Naruto felt a chill crawl up his spine.

"Someone like that," Rickert said, "if they saw you use chakra... they'd tear you apart just to study what made you different."

Naruto looked down at the crystal shard in his palm, his reflection fractured in its surface. He had a long way to go. And if he wanted to stand against beings like Seath... he'd have to walk that road carefully. He tightened his grip and nodded. "Thanks, Rickert."

"Just keep your head on out there, yeah? I'd rather not lose the only decent conversation I've had in years."

Naruto grinned. "Deal."

Rickert sat hunched over on his bench, his gaze drifting far past the rusted bars of his cage and toward the mist-veiled New Londo below. The bluish light reflecting off the sunken city made the ruins look almost peaceful... if you didn't know what lived under them.

"You know," Rickert murmured, "I'm still shocked that you met the real Witch Beatrice."

"She's a hero, right?"

"Indeed. One of the last true ones. She was born here, when New Londo was still a city. Not just ruins and ghosts."

"She lived here?" Naruto asked, glancing back over the ledge. His gaze traced the rooftops sunken beneath the black waters.

"She did," Rickert confirmed. "They say she was a prodigy. Raised among the sorcerers in this very city. But she didn't stay. Left as a young girl. Wandered the world on her own. Never joined any coven or court. Just a rogue witch with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind."

Naruto let that image sit in his head for a moment—Beatrice, wandering alone, wrapped in that quiet dignity of hers, her staff on her back, her chin held high.

"So... what happened?" he asked quietly. "To New Londo, I mean."

Rickert exhaled slowly. "No one really knows. Not even the gods speak of it. Something... ancient. Some say it rose from the Abyss itself. When the darkness came, the city was lost. But before the waters swallowed it, Beatrice came back."

Naruto's breath hitched slightly.

"She came back?" he echoed.

"She fought it," Rickert said. "Alone. No army. No Firelink support. Just her, standing against whatever hell had taken root beneath the city. And she held the line long enough for the city to be drowned—to keep the corruption from spreading to the surface. That's what made her a legend. That sacrifice."

Naruto didn't respond right away.

He just stared.

Down at the flooded ruins. At the quiet, distant rooftops rising from the Abyss like tombstones. At the stagnant black water that hid whatever final fight she had faced.

A tear slid down his cheek before he even realized it.

Bittersweet.

That was the word. He had wondered what had happened to her.

And now he knew.

She died saving her home.

There was pain, yes. A quiet ache that throbbed behind his eyes. But there was pride too. And awe. A part of him wanted to cry harder, while another part simply sat taller. Because of course that's how she went.

"She meant a lot to you, didn't she?" Rickert asked, voice soft and nonjudgmental.

Naruto wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, still staring ahead. His voice came slowly, like the words were surfacing from someplace deeper than usual. "Beatrice and I didn't talk much," Naruto said. "We fought together once. Just once. Against the Moonlight Butterfly."

He exhaled through his nose, the memory still sharp in his mind.

"No stories. No real introductions. She just showed up, cast a few spells, and changed everything I thought I knew about magic." He scratched at his jaw absently, the smallest smile tugging at his lips.

"She was the smartest and strangest girl I've ever met."

Rickert didn't speak. He didn't need to.

"She gave me the basics of magic," he continued. "Not as a teacher. More like... someone holding open a door. And once it was open, she left. Just like that."

His voice dropped, a note of something unspoken caught beneath the words.

"I didn't realize how much that mattered until she was gone."

Rickert gave a small, knowing smile, soft and bittersweet. "Sometimes the people who change your life don't need to stay long. Just long enough to point you in the right direction."

Naruto nodded, quietly.

It wasn't love. It wasn't even friendship, not really. But it was a connection. And in a place like Lordran, that meant more than most people would ever understand.

"You know," he said after a moment, voice low, "I wanted to find her in the present day. Thought maybe she'd be somewhere out there... waiting. I even imagined teasing her, calling her an old hag just to see her roll her eyes." He gave a small laugh, one that faded almost as quickly as it came. "Guess I can say goodbye to that friendship."

"Are you sad?"

"Yeah," Naruto replied. "But I'm happy, too. Happy that Bea lived her life the way she wanted. And died on her terms. If you have to go, that's the best you can hope for, right?"

With slow reverence, Naruto raised his left hand, palm open toward the sky. A silent prayer. A goodbye.

Rickert watched, saying nothing, but the moment etched itself into his memory like stone.

He'd heard the stories.

Beatrice wasn't just a sorceress. She was a legend. A rogue witch whose very presence in battle reshaped entire outcomes. Men from every corner of the world had tried to win her hand—princes, generals, scholars... all turned away with silence or a sharp spell. And then there was the tale Rickert remembered most vividly. A knight—unnamed in every version—who approached Beatrice with quiet confidence. They say she gave him a moment. Let him speak. Even smiled.

Until he took off his helmet. And then, cold as moonlight, she said: "You aren't him."

The line became a legend of its own. Who was she waiting for? Who was him? Most chalked it up to poetry. A myth. The kind of thing people told each other when trying to make sense of a woman who refused to be understood.

But now, as Rickert looked at Naruto, a strange thought crept into his mind. Was he the one? The knight Beatrice waited for?

Before the idea could fully form, Naruto stood, stretching his arms overhead. "Well," he said, "I think it's time I head back. I've got a mission to finish."

Rickert nodded, his face composed but his thoughts still swirling. "I'll see you next time, then."

That made Naruto pause. He turned halfway, eyes thoughtful. "Hey, Rickert... since you're not exactly tied down anymore, why don't you try tinkering with some tech from my world?"

"Technology?"

Naruto reached into his inventory, materializing a worn but functional flintlock pistol and placing it on the windowsill with a light clack. "This is..."

"Don't tell me," Rickert interrupted, holding up a hand, his eyes gleaming with a childlike fascination. "I want to figure it out on my own."

"Alright, suit yourself. But if you manage to make something out of it, let me know. I'd love to see it."

Rickert smirked, already turning the flintlock over in his hands, fingers tracing the grooves of the barrel and trigger with growing excitement. "Oh, don't worry. I'll find something. Can't let my skills rot down here from idleness."

Naruto grinned. "Good luck, then."

"Goodbye, Naruto. And... keep your head on out there. You're a rare sort, you know. You help break the monotony."

Naruto blinked. "That a compliment?"

"Take it however you want, kid."

With a casual wave and a confident step, Naruto turned and began his walk up the stairs, the sound of his boots echoing softly against moss-covered stone. The chill of New Londo nipped at his back, but his heart was steady. His mind was already drifting forward—toward Zabuza, Gato, and the Wave mission still waiting for him. Toward the battles yet to come.

And he was ready for whatever hell came next. Because Lordran had taught him well. And somewhere deep in his soul, he could feel it: The real game had just begun.

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Naruto stepped onto the elevator, the ancient chains rattling as they pulled him up toward Firelink Shrine. He was satisfied with the strength he'd gained. The next step was simple: return to Andre, die, and respawn back in the Elemental Nations. Fifteen days in Lordran. He hoped everything back home hadn't gone to hell in his absence. But halfway up, he heard a wet squelch sound, a flutter of wings, followed by crying.

His instincts screamed, and he was already sprinting the second the platform locked into place. Up the worn stone steps. Around the corner.

His breath hitched.

A crow was perched on the iron bars of Anastacia's cage, its talons sunk deep into the rusted metal. Its head jerked with unnatural spasms. But Naruto's eyes weren't on the bird.

They were on what hung from its beak. A strip of torn flesh. Red. Wet.

Anastacia's tongue.

Still tethered to her mouth by a glistening thread of sinew, the crow yanked and twisted, trying to pull it free—dragging her stolen voice out inch by inch. Anastacia sobbed quietly, her body curled into the corner of her cell, her hands pressed over her mouth as if trying to hold in what was already being taken.

Naruto didn't think. He moved.

His Zweihander cut the air.

Shink!

The crow's head dropped to the floor. Its body flailed, wings beating frantically for a few final seconds before stilling with a soft thump. Blood spattered the stone. The foul thing twitched once more, then lay silent. Anastacia gasped. Her eyes were wide, glassy with terror, yet they didn't move from the corpse. Not from fear. From recognition. Of what almost happened.

Naruto stormed up to the cage, grabbed the bars with his left hand. Crack. Groan. With a grunt, he forced the metal apart, slipping through and dropping to his knees beside her.

"Drink," he said, pulling an Estus Flask from his pouch and holding it to her.

She hesitated.

"Drink," he repeated, his voice firmer, gentler.

Slowly, she took it. The golden light trickled down her throat, and Naruto felt her trembling begin to ease as the warmth spread through her fragile frame. He exhaled in relief and pulled her into a soft hug.

"You're safe," he murmured. "I took care of it. You're safe now."

Her body shuddered against him. She gripped his tunic like it was an anchor. For a long moment, they just stayed like that—still, quiet, breathing. Naruto glanced around the room. No bed. No blanket. Just cold stone and silence.

His jaw clenched.

Why was an innocent girl subjected to this hell?

But instead of rage, he reached for something lighter.

"Hey," he said softly, pulling back, "wanna see something cool?"

Anastacia blinked, still sniffling.

Naruto flicked a shuriken from his pouch, spun it across his knuckles, then balanced it on one finger before flipping it across to the next. A simple trick. But in the right moment? Magic.

Her eyes widened. And the corners of her lips curved just slightly.

"... Amazing," she whispered.

His grin lit up the room.

He reached into his inventory and pulled a torn page from his journal. Folded once. Then again. A crease. A corner tucked. An edge turned. He handed it to her. A paper flower.

"Ever tried origami?"

She shook her head.

"Well, then..." He pulled out a second page and handed it to her. "Let's change that."

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As Naruto gently guided Anastacia's fingers through the folds of paper, teaching her the quiet rhythm of origami, he made a quick shadow clone to handle the rest. The clone wordlessly slipped out of the cell, crouched beside the crow's body, and examined it.

But the moment it touched the corpse.

Pssshhhh.

The crow melted like wax in fire, dissolving into a puddle of dark mist. Like it had never been real to begin with. Naruto blinked. His eyes narrowed. What the hell…

The clone didn't hesitate. It sprinted down the spiral stairs to Rickert's cell. "Hey, you ever hear of a crow that melts after you kill it?"

Rickert looked up from tinkering with the flintlock Naruto had left him. "A what now?"

The clone filled him in, voice taut with urgency.

Rickert shook his head slowly, face troubled. "I don't know anything about crows like that… but if it was targeting Anastacia? Might've been sent by the Way of White. She's their prisoner, after all."

That made Naruto still.

When the memory hit, the real Naruto clenched his jaw. The Way of White. The bastards just kept crawling up from the cracks. Fine. Time to get answers. He walked across the shrine's moss-streaked courtyard, boots echoing off the stones, until he found him.

Petrus of Thorolund, in all his false holiness.

The cleric stood up when he saw him approach, his mace already in hand. "You dare approach me again?"

"Shut up," Naruto growled. "I'll pay you 1,000 souls if you answer a question."

Petrus paused.

Then, the tension in his shoulders melted away. "Ah, of course, dear brother. What knowledge do you seek?"

"A crow attacked the Fire Keeper. Tried to rip out her tongue. You know anything about that?"

"Hmm… now that is peculiar indeed…"

He stroked his chin thoughtfully, and Naruto felt his patience thinning.

"Tell me," Petrus said finally, "did you… heal her tongue?"

Naruto's fists tightened. "Yeah. I did."

A shadow passed across Petrus's face. His next smile was thinner, sharper. "Then that may be the problem."

"What?"

"I have never heard of a crow targeting a Fire Keeper for her tongue. But if the tongue was never meant to be there…" Petrus tilted his head, mock-thoughtful. "Perhaps… the gods are merely correcting a mistake."

Naruto's chakra flared in his chest.

"You should cut it out again," Petrus said casually, like it was a piece of rotted meat. "After all, it was likely removed in her village, to prevent her from ever speaking a god's name in vain. And now… you've restored the source of her sin. The gods are simply correcting it."

Naruto's glare could've split stone. "I'm not doing that. She didn't deserve any of this."

Petrus gave a flippant shrug. "As you like. I only offer what wisdom I've gathered in service of the gods."

Naruto turned, disgusted rising in his throat. This wasn't wisdom. This was rot. This was the kind of thing that masked cruelty behind golden robes and hymns and worse still…

He felt helpless.

If some divine force was actually behind this then he was powerless to stop it. For all the strength he'd gained in Lordran… he couldn't protect her. Not from this.

"Ah, but perhaps I could interest you in a new miracle?" Petrus called after him, his voice sticky with false kindness. "Something to keep your mind off the Fire Keeper's… predicament?"

Naruto didn't even look back. "Maybe later," he muttered, walking to the elevator.

But deep down, he was already planning his next move. And when the time came, he'd make sure that bastard would regret ever opening his mouth.

Naruto barely touched the ground as he leapt off the elevator, chakra flaring in brief, silent bursts. His boots skimmed the wall before his body flipped upward—feet latching to the ceiling with pinpoint control. He sprinted along the stone overhead, weaving through the narrow shaft's gaps and crumbling supports until he reached the top.

A flicker of movement and he slipped silently back into Firelink Shrine.

Time for phase two.

Two fingers flicked up.

Poof.

Three shadow clones appeared at his side.

Transformation Jutsu.

In a puff of smoke the clones took form, one wearing Kakashi's familiar flak vest and tilted headband, another in Sakura's pink hair and red dress, and the third sporting Sasuke's trademark scowl and Uchiha crest.

The "Team 7" trio approached Petrus.

"Yo," the Kakashi clone greeted casually, one hand raised in lazy salute.

"Hn," the Sasuke clone added, arms crossed.

"Hi!" Sakura chirped brightly.

Petrus turned to them, robes rustling. "Ah… new faces. Unfamiliar, and yet…"

He frowned.

"You carry the aura of the Baptismal Rite. The blessing of the Way of White flows through you."

The clones tensed but the Sakura one quickly laughed it off. "Oh, that! Yeah, we actually met a member of the Way of White on our travels. They—uh—baptized us, but we never learned the miracles."

"Hmph." Petrus' tone curled with disdain, though he forced a smile. "Then I assume you've had the… pleasure… of meeting Lady Rhea and her little band of guardians?"

Naruto's ears perked up from where he listened, hidden on the roof.

The Kakashi clone nodded smoothly. "We did. She was very generous, but…" He let the sentence trail, glancing sideways. "I found myself wanting more. Something deeper. Something purer."

Naruto let the words drip with calculated devotion. "I wish to further serve the Way of White," he continued, his voice lowered. "Perhaps even join a hunt for the Undead. I hear there's one stirring trouble around these parts."

Petrus's eyes sharpened but his mouth twitched into a slight, approving curve. "You are wise to pursue a truer path," he said, voice like velvet hiding a blade. "Rhea… stands where she does not through merit or piety, but by virtue of a bloodline soaked in heresy. Her father, that false bishop, was a traitor to our faith. A coward. A liar. She's just a naive child, dressed in holy robes, given purpose only by her name."

The bitterness in his tone couldn't be mistaken.

Naruto's clone inclined his head in faux humility. "Then allow me to learn from someone of true devotion. May I buy from your wares?"

At that, Petrus brightened instantly. "Of course," he said, practically glowing. "I would be delighted to offer a true follower what he seeks."

"I'd like the Homeward Miracle," said the Sakura clone sweetly.

"That will be 8,000 souls."

"Don't worry, I'll cover it," the Kakashi clone interjected, arms folded. "Let my students pick, and I'll pay for everything in one go."

Petrus gave a small nod, turning to retrieve the scroll. He held it just out of reach, clearly waiting for the payment first.

"I'll take Seek Guidance," the Sasuke clone added.

"2,000 souls," Petrus muttered.

"I'll take the Great Heal Excerpt," the Kakashi clone said casually.

Petrus froze. His hand stiffened mid-reach. "How… do you know about that miracle?"

Naruto blinked behind the transformation. He only knew about the Excerpt because Petrus offered it to him when they first met. But that reaction, it wasn't normal. Was the Excerpt not supposed to be public knowledge?

"Oh," the clone said smoothly, adopting Kakashi's lazy tone. "Some knight named Naruto told us about it. Said you had a few good ones tucked away. Even named them for us."

Petrus hesitated, then slowly nodded, masking whatever internal panic he was hiding.

"That scroll is 10,000 souls. Your total comes to 20,000."

Naruto raised his hand, forming a glowing soul orb in his palm, letting the light dance across Petrus's greedy eyes. He didn't have 20,000 souls. Not even close. But he had a plan.

His gaze snapped suddenly to the staircase above them. "Oh! Lady Rhea! What a surprise."

Petrus's head whipped around, his posture stiff, gaze frantic but there was nothing.

No noble lady.

Just empty stone and silence. And when he turned back, the scrolls in his hand were gone. So were the strangers. For a beat, Firelink Shrine stood still. Petrus blinked. Once. Twice. Then his hands clutched at air, as if trying to squeeze ghosts.

"Wait!" he choked. "Where...?!" Realization hit like a collapsing tower. The miracle scrolls. All three. Gone. And not a single soul in return.

From the rooftop, Naruto's real body had to physically slap a hand over his mouth to keep from howling with laughter.

Below, Petrus's face twisted in outrage. "Damn you, Rhea!" he hissed, voice shaking. "I know not how, but I know you had something to do with this!" He stormed off, eyes wild, searching the ruins for enemies that didn't exist.

Naruto shook his head, glancing at the three stolen miracle scrolls with a smirk.

Before he left, he made one last shadow clone and whispered a command. "Stay with Anastacia. Protect her."

The clone nodded and vanished down the stairs toward her cell.

With that done, Naruto turned and walked toward the elevator, satisfaction humming in his chest. Petrus got what he deserved. But this was far from the last time Naruto would cross paths with the Way of White. The deeper he dug, the more it became clear: the church wasn't just hiding secrets from the world… it was hiding them from itself.

And some of those secrets belonged to the gods.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The clone of Naruto watched quietly from his crouched position as Anastacia delicately finished folding the paper swan. Her hands trembled, unsure but determined, and when the final crease was made, she smiled. Not a large smile, not a triumphant one, but a small, innocent curl of her lips. Childlike. Pure. The kind of smile that should've belonged to someone far from a place like this.

Naruto clapped gently. "You did great."

Anastacia's head tilted slightly, as though she weren't sure if she was allowed to be proud. But she smiled again, shyly, holding the swan close to her chest. "You know..." the clone started, rubbing the back of his neck. "You could come with me. I've got people back where I'm from. A place. It's not perfect, but it's safe. And you'd never be caged again."

Her smile faded. Her voice came quiet, but there was strength behind it.

"My duty is here."

The clone sighed and glanced at the iron bars. "You sure it's your duty? Or is it just what they told you your whole life?"

Anastacia lowered her gaze, but she didn't answer. The clone stared a moment longer before nodding, and with a grunt, bent the bars back into place.

Before turning to leave, he slid a kunai between the bars.

"I don't know if my words'll ever stick, but just remember. You've got a choice now," he said softly. "That's yours. To protect yourself."

Anastacia nodded, her fingers gently curling around the foreign weight. She held it to her chest, unsure of what it meant to hold a weapon, only that it was something he had trusted her with.

As the clone turned away, she sat back, the candlelight flickering over her and the small origami swan resting beside her. She picked it up, tilted it, made it dance. For the first time in what felt like lifetimes, a quiet laugh left her lips. Not strong. Not loud.

But real.

Hope.

Then came the voice. "Such a sight of innocence. A shame it belongeth to a sinner."

Anastacia froze.

Her gaze snapped up. The paper swan slipped from her hands. A crow, far larger than before, now perched atop Naruto's clone. Its talons dug into the boy's head. His eyes were wide, glazed over like he was sleeping with his eyes open.

"Thy tongue was stripped for thy trespass," the crow crooned, wings twitching with contemptuous elegance. "And yet here thou sitteth, reborn in blasphemy. Dost thou think thy penance complete?"

Anastacia shrank back against the wall, gripping the kunai as the crow continued. "Thou knoweth well thy curse. Thy voice is but sin given shape. Wilt thou cut it free again, child? Wilt thou silence the serpent within?"

Anastacia's chest trembled. She brought the blade to her lap, the cold steel stark against her shaking fingers. The clone's mouth moved, barely a whisper, caught in the crow's hold. "Ana…stacia…"

Her eyes flickered to him.

He was trying. Even bound, his will fought the bird's grip. Even when entranced, he still called her name.

Her name.

She looked down at the blade.

I was never meant to speak.

She looked at the swan.

I was never meant to be seen.

She looked at him.

But I was seen.

Her grip on the blade loosened.

"Thou believeth this knight to be thy savior?" the crow rasped, voice like parchment torn in shadow. "This fool, this mortal boy, whom I didst ensnare with naught but a whisper of unreality? A mere flicker of thought and behold, he is naught but a prisoner in his own mind."

Its beak tilted toward the clone still frozen, trapped in dream.

"I wonder, sweet vessel… should I show thee what becometh of such knights when their minds unravel? Wouldst he still remain gentle? Or would the spiral claim his soul entire?"

Anastacia's hands flew to her mouth. "Please… don't."

The crow's head snapped toward her. Its eyes burned with cruel light. "Then do it."

Her breath hitched.

"Take thy blade. Cleanse thy blasphemy. Restore thy silence. Let not the defiled tongue twist once more within thy flesh."

Anastacia shook as if the words themselves struck her. She looked at the kunai, still slick with the faint memory of her hope.

She raised it.

The metal kissed beneath her tongue, cold and unyielding.

The first cut was shallow.

A gasp escaped her as the taste of iron spilled across her palate. She bit down to stifle a scream, tears leaking from her eyes.

The second slice plunged deeper.

Her body convulsed, the muscle spasming in panic. The sound of her breath became a wet, gurgling rasp as she felt something vital tear. Blood gushed over her lips, drenching her chin and staining her robes in terrible red.

She gagged, trembled.

And then with one final tremor of will, she jerked the blade sideways.

Her tongue fell.

A soft, awful slap echoed through the hollow chamber as the severed flesh hit the ground, twitching as though still begging for mercy. Blood pooled at her knees. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks, silent and burning. The crow ruffled its wings, satisfied, voice cold and commanding.

"Knoweth thy place," it said. "Thou art not maiden, nor mother, nor self. Thou art firekeeper—flame's slave. Thine duty is to serve. To silence. To sacrifice."

It paused, one gleaming eye fixed upon her broken form.

"Not to dream."

Then, with a shriek like the death of light, it took flight, wings scattering ash and whispers as it vanished into the broken sky.

Anastacia collapsed to her side, gasping through blood and tears, clutching the kunai to her chest.

The paper swan lay beside her, crushed and red.

A gift from a boy who had smiled at her. Who had seen her not as flame's servant, but as a person. She had heard the stories of knights saving maidens, of swords drawn in righteous fury, of chains broken by kindness. Tales whispered like lullabies among the desperate. Fantasies passed from lip to trembling lip, between those caged beneath the world, daring to believe in the impossible.

But Anastacia was no maiden.

She was no noble's daughter, no princess in a tower awaiting salvation.

She was a firekeeper.

A sinner.

A nameless soul born to serve and suffer silently.

A vessel without worth.

And yet…

And yet…

She dared to dream.

Just for a breath. Just for a moment.

That Naruto Uzumaki—that foolish, loud, kind boy who called her friend—might be the knight to save her. A girl who once longed to speak. Who once longed to live.

Even if it was a sin to be born outside her fate.

Even if it was blasphemy to want more than silence.

Even if it condemned her, she let herself dream of the knight that would stand before the gods.