Chapter no.69 Dark Souls

Chapter no.69 Naruto goes to Church

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The forge was quiet when Naruto arrived, the rhythmic clink of steel echoing faintly off the old stone walls like a lullaby for blades. Andre sat on his stool, hunched over a battered chestplate, hammer in hand. He didn't even look up as Naruto stepped into the light, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Well now, you're back again," the old blacksmith rumbled. "I heard quite the ruckus from the forest. Explosions, shockwaves... the lot of it. What in the gods' name were you doing out there, boy?"

Naruto grinned like a fox who'd just gotten away with robbing a henhouse. "Oh man, Andre, where do I even start? So I was walking through the woods, right? And then this giant butterfly starts lasering me from the sky with these magic beams."

Andre arched a brow and leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. "Aye. That'd be the Moonlight Butterfly. Majestic creature. Dangerous one, too. Few have lived to speak of it."

"Well, I didn't live. At least not the first time," Naruto said proudly. "Died once. Got better. Then I teamed up with this super cool witch named Beatrice. She had this huge hat, talked like a ghost from a storybook, and shot magic that could curve like a boomerang. We tag-teamed the butterfly!"

"Mmm. So it's gone then."

"Dust in the wind," Naruto said with a snap of his fingers. "Oh, and I found weed. Like good weed. Green Blossoms. Tastes like spicy cabbage and makes your stamina shoot through the roof."

Andre blinked slowly. "You found the stamina herb."

Naruto nodded sagely. "I'm calling it Naruto's Weed."

Andre let out a long, gravelly sigh and muttered, "Gods help us all…"

"But hey... look what I brought back."

With a dramatic flourish, Naruto pulled out a bundle wrapped in old cloth and placed it gently on the anvil. The cloth unraveled to reveal the glowing, holy flame of the Divine Ember.

Andre straightened. His face, so often cracked into smirks and half-laughed grunts, now shifted to something far more solemn. He looked down at the ember with a reverence reserved for relics, for old friends long buried.

Naruto puffed out his chest. "Pretty cool, huh?"

But Andre didn't answer right away. He closed his eyes and placed a hand over the ember. "To the one who forged in solitude… who tempered light into steel and never asked for thanks… I swear it. Your flame lives on through me. I'll use it well, my brother."

Naruto bowed his head respectfully, mirroring Andre's silence.

Then the old blacksmith straightened, heavy shoulders rolling with quiet strength. "With this fine ember… aye, you're one step closer to a divine weapon."

Naruto's smile faltered. "Wait! One step? That wasn't it?"

"Hah hah. No, not quite. You've got the ember, lad, but now you need to reinforce a weapon to +5 first. Then, using this ember, we can ascend it into something blessed. Takes a special ore, too."

Naruto stared at him, slack-jawed. "You mean I went through all that for a step?"

"That's the nature of Lordran," Andre said with a shrug. "It offers power… but it don't come cheap."

Naruto groaned. "Of course it doesn't. Why would anything be easy around here?"

"Was it ever?" Andre asked with a knowing grin.

"...No," Naruto admitted with a sigh. "Alright, fine. I've got the soul of that butterfly thing. And… one other. Can you do something with it?"

Andre winced. "Ahh. No can do. That's not my craft. To forge a weapon from a soul, you'll need a blacksmith who served under the nameless smithing god himself. Someone who remembers the old rites. I'm no good with those."

Naruto gave the biggest sigh ever, looking down at his feet. Still gained a lot from this adventure, though.

Suddenly, the sound of metal clinking echoed through the forge as Andre pulled a worn sack from the back of his bench and dropped it onto the anvil. It opened with a dusty thud, revealing a pile of Titanite Shards—dozens of them, gleaming faintly in the firelight.

Naruto blinked. "What's all this?"

"Well, seeing how hard you've worked… and knowing your goals…" Andre said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I may not be able to give you a divine weapon yet, but I reckon a properly reinforced Zweihander will do just fine."

Naruto's eyes lit up. "Wait, really?"

"A knight needs a sharp blade," Andre said simply. "Let's make sure yours won't break when you swing it."

Naruto launched forward, wrapping the old blacksmith in a hug that knocked a puff of air from Andre's lungs. "You're the best, old man!"

Andre grunted, patting his back. "Let me go, boy. I've work to do."

Naruto placed the heavy Zweihander on the anvil with a soft clunk, stepping back as the old blacksmith cracked his knuckles and reached for his hammer.

Andre gave the greatsword a once-over. "Mmm. She's seen plenty of blood, that one. A fine blade, but still has room to grow."

As the first echoing strike rang through the chamber, Naruto leaned casually and watched as sparks danced with every hit, but curiosity soon got the better of him.

"Hey, Andre?" he asked, tilting his head. "How're you gonna use that Divine Ember? I mean… it's just a small ember, right?"

Andre didn't look up, continuing to etch the glowing Titanite into the blade's grooves with practiced ease. "An ember can make a fire," he said simply, voice gravelly and calm.

Naruto scratched the side of his cheek. "Okay, but like… what feeds it? You gonna throw in some wood or coal?"

Andre chuckled softly. "Souls, boy."

Naruto blinked.

...Of course it's souls. He exhaled through his nose and turned away to give the man space, summoning shadow clones in the empty church—each already flickering through one-handed hand seals with fluid, focused precision. They'd continue training, as Naruto was determined to perfect one-handed ninjutsu before returning home.

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A few hours had passed.

The forge glowed hot with emberlight, and the constant ring of metal on metal echoed through the ancient stone halls like a heartbeat. The scent of iron and oil clung to the air—punctuated now by something new: a faint, almost peppery-green aroma that wafted toward the forge. Andre paused mid-swing, setting his hammer aside as he wiped the sweat from his brow with a heavy forearm. He glanced across the room, toward a quieter corner near the crumbled archway where, slouched at the edge of the forge's reach, Naruto sat beside a makeshift little brazier he'd assembled from broken bricks and bits of scrap metal.

A small curl of greenish smoke floated from the improvised burner, its plume wafting lazily toward the ceiling.

Naruto sat cross-legged, exhausted, breathing in the slow draw of burning Green Blossom weed. His chakra swirled visibly around him, soft and rich with energy—his usual chaos of wild coils now tamed and rhythmic.

Andre watched him for a moment, his weathered face unreadable. Then: "So. What's your plan forward then?"

Naruto let out a long breath, eyes still half-lidded from exertion, but a smirk curled at the edge of his lips. "Well," he said slowly, stretching an arm behind his back, "for starters… you can teach me that taijutsu you used against the Titanite Demon."

Andre leaned back, chuckling. "Hah! You noticed that, did you?"

"I noticed you dodging lightning," Naruto said, grinning wider now. "You gonna teach me, or do I gotta steal your moves the hard way?"

Andre gave a gravelly laugh, stepping around the anvil and lowering himself onto the bench beside the bellows. "That'd be the Astoran Boxing Arts, lad. Old, refined, meant to crack armor with bare knuckles and break beasts with a stance as solid as steel. Not just fists—willpower." He looked Naruto in the eye. "You still want it?"

Naruto met his gaze evenly. "You know what I'm fighting for. I don't care if it's kicks, swords, or songs—I'll take whatever tools I can get."

"Hmph." Andre nodded, satisfied. "Good answer."

Naruto laughed, but then his tone grew serious. "And… I want to find someone to teach me magic. Real magic."

Andre raised a brow. "But you're a knight."

"Ugh, not this again…"

Andre's shoulders shook with a laugh as he returned to the blade. "Alright, alright. Can't blame a lad for wantin' to do it all." He paused. "Actually… I might know a fella."

Naruto perked up immediately. "Yeah?"

"Aye. Dear friend of mine. Name's Rickert of Vinheim."

"Where is he now?"

"Last I heard," Andre muttered, frowning as he recalled, "he went to have a look around the New Londo Ruins."

"…The what?"

Andre glanced over. "Underground city. Deep beneath Firelink Shrine."

Naruto's jaw dropped. "There's a whole city under Firelink Shrine and no one mentioned this?!"

Andre shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Aye. Ruined, haunted, flooded, cursed. The usual."

Naruto groaned. "So I have to walk all the way back to Firelink Shrine?! That's gonna take forever!"

Andre smirked knowingly. "Not if you use the elevator."

"…Eh?"

"The lift in the old church. Hidden platform near the bonfire room. Brings you right down to Firelink."

Naruto stared at him, stunned.

Andre grinned. "Gotta learn to explore, brat."

Naruto shook his head. "This place is insane. Absolute lunacy. I bet next you'll say there's an ancient mushroom kingdom in Lordran."

Andre's expression didn't change. "…I mean…"

"No. Nope. Don't even finish that sentence."

The two shared a laugh which echoed warmly through the chamber. Andre wiped the final sheen of oil across the newly forged Zweihander, now reinforced to +5. The blade no longer bore the grey steel look it once had. No—now it was beautiful and terrible. A deep, obsidian black, its surface rippling with faint traces of etched lines, like veins.

Naruto reached out, fingers brushing the hilt.

The moment he gripped it—he felt it.

A thrum of raw danger. Like the blade itself was holding its breath, waiting for the chance to strike. His skin tingled. His chakra coiled. Something in the sword recognized him.

Naruto didn't say a word.

Instead, he turned and walked toward the wide chamber where dozens of his shadow clones trained in synchronized sequences, perfecting one-handed hand signs in staggered silence.

With one casual step, he raised the Zweihander in a slow, testing arc.

And then he swung.

The air itself shattered.

The force of the swing was a tidal wave of compressed pressure, part shockwave, part gravity distortion. Wind screamed in its wake, kicking up dust, sparks, and fragments of stone from the floor. The arc of power rippled outward, slamming into his clones like an invisible storm. Half of them exploded instantly, popping like glass bubbles. The rest were thrown dozens of feet, their bodies crashing into walls and scattering like leaves caught in a hurricane.

The stone beneath Naruto's feet groaned. A shallow groove cut clean across the floor, carved effortlessly into the ancient stone—the mark of a blade so heavy, it could rewrite terrain.

Naruto stared at the destruction in awe. "Whoa," he whispered, turning the blade slightly in his hand, watching how the etched runes pulsed faintly, drinking in his chakra.

Behind him, Andre crossed his arms and nodded. "There's a special quality to titanite shards and why we use 'em for reforging. They come from slabs, you see. Slabs forged by the nameless blacksmith deity himself. Each slab was etched with a kind of language—not written words, but magic. A language of force. Of shaping. Of memory."

Naruto turned toward him, still catching his breath. "The sword... felt like it pulled on me when I swung. Like it knew what I wanted."

Andre nodded. "That's the enchantment, lad. The language in titanite binds steel to the soul. Makes the blade stronger the stronger you are. And if you're clever with it... even more."

Naruto flexed his cursed arm. "Shame I can't use both hands to max out the strength. This sword was made to be used with two."

Andre rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well," he said slowly, "I might have a solution."

Naruto looked up, curious.

"In Astora, some knights lost limbs fightin' beasts that didn't leave much of 'em behind. For the ones who couldn't heal, whether by miracle or medicine, they were given prosthetic limbs."

Naruto's brow furrowed. "That... actually sounds kinda useful. But my cursed arm... it just grows back whenever I heal. I'd have to cut it off every time I wanted to use a prosthetic."

Andre gave a grunt. "Then don't use it all the time. Keep the cursed arm for your normal days. But when you need the real strength of a Zweihander? Strap on the prosthetic. Let the forge lend you the hand fate denied."

Naruto tapped his chin, nodding slowly. "Alright. Let's make one." He paused. "Oh and uh... side note."

Andre raised an eyebrow.

"Could you also make me a smoking pipe?"

The blacksmith blinked. "Why?"

Naruto grinned innocently. "For my weed."

"...Only if you share."

Naruto saluted, serious as a monk. "Half my stash." He held out a hand. "And in return, you teach me basic blacksmithing. Just the essentials—repairs, sharpening, reinforcing. In case I end up stuck somewhere without you."

Andre saw the steel in the boy's eyes, the will in his back, and gave a slow, approving nod.

"...Deal."

Their hands clasped, calloused and scarred.

The forge burned on.

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Time had lost all meaning.

Hours or was it days? blurred into one long, glowing stretch of sweat, steel, and smoke. Naruto had spent every waking moment beside Andre, learning the fundamentals of Astoran Boxing, blacksmithing basics, and sketching out the design for his prosthetic arm. When they weren't hammering metal, they were arguing over the weight balance of a pipe. When they weren't arguing, they were sparring. Naruto learning how to drive his weight into a punch, how to tighten his core, how to fight like a knight who couldn't afford to fall.

Now, the forge lay quiet.

The fire still glowed low in the distance, but its roar had dulled to a whisper. Naruto lay sprawled near the bonfire, chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm. Beside him, Andre sat propped against the stone wall, half-empty tankard in hand, his beard flecked with sweat and soot.

"Never thought I'd say this," Andre muttered, tilting the tankard back with a grunt, "but I might be gettin' too old to keep up with a brat like you."

Naruto chuckled, flicking a boneshard into the fire. "You're not that old. Just blacksmith-old."

Andre gave a grunt of amusement. "Aye. That's the worst kind."

They sat in companionable silence, the only sounds the crackle of the bonfire and the whisper of wind over the bridge leading to Sen's Fortress.

Then Naruto reached into his inventory and pulled out the Watchtower Basement Key, the cool metal gleaming faintly in the firelight.

[Item: Watchtower Basement Key]
[Description: Key to the basement of the watchtower in the Undead Burg. The basement of the watchtower forms a stone cell. There are rumors of a hero turned Hollow who was locked away by a dear friend. For his own good, of course.]

"Where did you get that key?"

Naruto nodded. "Took it from the Divine Blacksmith's workshop. He died while making this."

He turned the key over in his fingers. "Says it opens the basement of the watchtower in Undead Burg. Mentions some hero turned Hollow. Locked away by a friend."

Andre didn't respond right away. He just stared into the flames. "...There's a lotta tales in Lordran like that," the old smith said at last. "Ones where friends become jailers. Sometimes it's mercy. Sometimes it's fear. And sometimes..." He took another sip of ale. "Sometimes it's betrayal."

Naruto's brow furrowed. "You think the blacksmith was trying to free him?"

Andre shrugged. "Could be."

"What if that friend who locked him away is the same person who sent the Butterfly? Or controls the Hydra in the basin?"

Andre tilted his head back, exhaling slow. "Then that friend had a lot to protect. Or a lot to hide."

The silence between them deepened.

Eventually, Andre's tankard tipped slightly, resting against his chest as his breaths slowed. The blacksmith was asleep, the long days of labor finally catching up with him.

Naruto watched the man for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Sleep well, old man," he whispered as he headed out—up the stairwell toward the church, the flames of the bonfire warming his back.

As he reached the top of the walkway, something tugged at his senses.

The sun was shining.

He blinked up, confused. A few minutes ago, it had been night. Moonlight gleaming off moss and fog.

Now?

Clear skies. Warm daylight.

His spine stiffened. He formed a clone and sent it sprinting back toward Darkroot Garden. It vanished over the ridge. Moments later, the feedback hit him. The moon still hung over the garden. Different places. Different times.

"Darkroot Garden… and the church… are in separate time zones?" He exhaled, long and slow, as another truth settled over him—one more subtle consequence of Lordran's convoluted time. With imprisoned heroes, shattered timelines, secrets buried beneath every moss-covered stone… and him going to church.

Naruto gave a short, dry laugh.

Yeah… never a dull moment in this place.

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The Undead Church loomed ahead, a monolithic beauty with towering stone walls, their once-pristine surfaces now scarred by age and battle. A great circular window sat near the apex of the structure, its stained glass shattered, leaving only jagged remnants behind. The roof sloped into a sharp triangular peak, its edges lined with weathered stone arches, each one crumbling, yet resilient.

Standing in its shadow, Naruto felt a strange sense of understanding, as if he could grasp the awe and reverence that those who once walked these halls must have felt.

But whatever sanctity this place once held had long since been desecrated.

Three Hollows stood outside the entrance, their tattered remnants of armor barely clinging to their withered forms. One clutched a crossbow, while the other two wielded swords.

Naruto had barely taken a step forward before one of the sword-wielding Hollows charged, its decayed mouth hanging open in a silent war cry. At the same time, the crossbow Hollow fired. Naruto sidestepped, letting the arrow fly straight into the charging Hollow's eye.

With a sickening pop, blood erupted from the wound. But even blinded and gushing, the Hollow staggered only for a moment before raising its sword once more.

They don't stop.

Naruto narrowed his eyes, dodging as the blade came down in a series of wild, jerking slashes. The crossbow Hollow reloaded, raising its weapon for another shot.

Naruto moved toward it, shifting his stance.

Another bolt. The young squire dodged, and the arrow struck the blinded Hollow's other eye, embedding itself to the fletching.

The Hollow froze, its sword still raised. Then, it began swinging blindly, slashing at nothing, its movements erratic, desperate. Naruto sidestepped and watched as the flailing Hollow, completely unaware of its surroundings, cut down the crossbow Hollow behind it.

The moment the second Hollow collapsed, Naruto lashed out with a brutal kick, sending the blinded swordsman toppling off the edge of the walkway.

It fell silently into the Darkroot Garden below, vanishing into the trees.

Naruto turned his head to the last remaining Hollow, which just… stood there. Its hollowed eyes stared at him, dull and unblinking, sword hanging low at its side. "Sorry, man," he muttered. "Can't take any chances."

He closed the distance in a blur, his cloak snapping behind him. The Hollow twitched, suddenly jerking to raise its short sword, but Naruto was already inside its guard.

His left fist snapped out like a piston—one clean jab straight to the chest. The blow landed with a sharp clang, and the Hollow staggered as the dent in its armor caved like tin. The next punch was faster, a brutal uppercut that smashed into its jaw. Bone shattered. Teeth flew. The Hollow's head snapped back violently as its entire body lifted from the ground and crashed into the wall behind it.

Naruto lowered his fists, his breath steady. "Boxing's not exactly elegant," he muttered, shaking the blood off his knuckles, "but damn if it isn't efficient."

He turned and stepped into the church.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the world seemed to hold its breath.

The air felt thick, almost sacred. Dust drifted in sunbeams that filtered down from high, fractured windows. The ceiling soared above him, a marvel of ancient architecture—multi-domed, cracked, but still grand. His footsteps echoed faintly, each step swallowed by the age-old hush of the chapel. Towering stone pillars lined the sides of the nave, their bases weathered and cracked by time but still stubbornly standing. Between them, statues stood vigil, solemn warrior women carved in flawless detail. Each one held a polearm crowned with a sculpted flame.

Naruto felt small beneath their gaze, like a child walking into the memory of something once divine.

The pews were long ruined. Some stood crookedly in their rows, while others lay collapsed and splintered in chaotic heaps. Dust clung to every surface. Time had not been kind to this place, and yet… it endured.

But Naruto's eyes weren't drawn to the decay or the shadows. They were locked onto the altar at the far end of the hall.

It rose on a shallow platform, surrounded by a flickering ring of candles. Their flames danced in wrought-iron holders shaped like birds in flight, each tiny flame casting long shadows on the surrounding walls. Behind the altar, two massive arched metal windows were fused into the stone.

And in the center of it all stood a statue.

It was a woman, robed and regal, her head bowed gently as she cradled a child in her arms. Her expression was carved with an eerie tenderness, so lifelike that for a heartbeat, Naruto felt as if the stone might draw breath. The child rested against her chest, small and fragile, its face hidden in the crook of her arm.

There was something haunting about the statue. It wasn't the beauty or the craftsmanship. It was the emotion embedded in the stone. Not triumph. Not peace.

But sorrow. Quiet, bottomless grief that bled into every fold of her robe, every inch of her fingers wrapped around the infant.

Naruto's breath caught in his throat.

He remembered the statue of the Nameless King that he and Solaire had stood before. That one had radiated divine strength and judgment. But this… this statue felt different.

This one grieved.

And at its feet, resting on the altar, was a body. Or what remained of one. The figure had long since burned away, its limbs blackened and brittle, curled protectively around something clutched to its hollow chest. Naruto stepped closer, hesitating only slightly before crouching beside the remains.

It was a soul.

But unlike the others he had seen, this one flickered with a pale, soft white fire. It pulsed, as if it were trying to keep breathing. Trying to remain.

Was this… an offering? A sacrifice?

Naruto didn't have time to think about this as his gaze shifted to the guardian over this sacrifice.

A giant, clad head to toe in steel, its towering form making even the thick church pillars seem narrow in comparison. Its armor was immense, weathered by battle, each plate of heavy steel dented and scratched but still as unbreakable as a fortress. A massive Tower Shield rested against its arm, broad enough to swallow an entire man whole. And in its other hand was a mace. A weapon far too large for any normal warrior to wield, its head covered in spikes, its sheer weight enough to crush bones with a single strike.

The Berenike Knight stood still for a moment, its helmeted head turning slightly toward Naruto. It moved slowly and deliberately, like an executioner approaching the condemned.

Naruto exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Well. Guess my first day of church is going to involve a lot of fighting, dattebayo."

The knight lunged, raising its massive mace for a brutal overhead slam.

Naruto moved first.

The knight's mace came down like a meteor, the air groaning under its weight. But Naruto was already in motion, feet blurring as he stepped inside the arc of the blow. Twisting his body, he angled the massive blade and caught the descending mace with the flat of the sword.

Steel screamed against steel.

The impact was titanic.

A deafening clang rang out as the shockwave burst from the collision, sending a tremor rippling through the church. The stone floor cracked beneath their feet, spiderweb fissures racing outward like lightning through marble. Nearby pews exploded into splinters, flung like shrapnel from the sudden pressure blast. Dust and fragments of shattered debris filled the air.

Naruto's arm buckled slightly from the force, but he held. He felt the resonance in his bones, the violent tremble of power against power. But his grip didn't falter. His body, trained and reinforced, absorbed the brunt while his chakra surged to meet the strain.

And then, he turned it.

Using the angle of the parry, he pushed the mace aside, guiding it harmlessly to the floor in a crunch of pulverized stone. The knight staggered, caught off balance from the sudden redirection.

Naruto didn't waste the opening.

Wind chakra flooded into his Zweihander.

It accepted it like a thirsty beast.

One of the things he loved most about the reinforced Zweihander—besides the sheer weight behind every blow—was how it responded to his chakra like it was forged from chakra metal. He raised the blade, poised to strike. But just as he shifted to deliver the cleaving blow, a whistle cut through the air, sharp and sudden.

Way of Focality screamed in his mind.

Naruto twisted, but not fast enough.

A blue bolt of energy screamed through the air, a razor-thin lance of force that sliced through Naruto's leather gauntlet.

There was no time to scream. No time to brace.

The impact ripped his wrist apart, shredding muscle and cracking bone. Blood burst from the wound in a hot, violent spray, painting the air in crimson as his hand was nearly severed at the joint.

A pulse of agony detonated through his body. His nerves lit up like fire, breath catching in his throat as his vision swam from the shock. But he didn't fall. He couldn't fall. Because in Lordran, pain didn't wait for you to recover. And neither did death.

The Berenike Knight's mace came sweeping toward him, its immense force sending a rippling shockwave that blew open the massive church doors, the hinges groaning in protest.

Naruto threw himself backward, skidding across the stone as blood poured from the open stump of his wrist, leaving a scarlet trail on the floor. Move. Don't think. Still mid-motion, Naruto grabbed his Estus Flask with his stump of a wrist, using chakra control to keep hold of it as he brought it to his lips.

The golden liquid poured down his throat, warm and electric, igniting his cells.

The pain dulled, and flesh began to knit itself back together—veins, muscle, bone—until his hand reformed completely, fingers flexing as sensation returned.

But he had no time to rest.

A loud bang echoed through the church as the Berenike Knight slammed its tower shield into the ground, the sound resonating like a war drum.

A chorus of growls followed as Balder Knights; at least five of them their thin, elegant swords drawn, moved in organized formation as they poured in from the church entrance.

And that wasn't the worst part.

Perched on the open balcony above was a figure draped in dark robes, their garments adorned with intricate metal rings, forming a chain-like pattern across the front. Their face was hidden beneath a mask, its surface covered in rows of small, hollow eyes, making it look almost insectoid. A flat, circular headdress sat atop their head, giving them an otherworldly presence.

And in their hands was a trident.

The Channeler tilted its head, observing Naruto with an almost curious air as a blue glow ignited along the shaft of its weapon.

Naruto clicked his tongue. "Tch. You first, then."

Naruto's shadow clone vanished, popping into a cloud of white smoke that spread across the church floor, obscuring him from view. The boy moved instantly, using the cover to run up one of the massive stone pillars, using his chakra to grip the surface as he kicked off, launching himself toward the Channeler.

The robed figure anticipated his approach, already calculating the trajectory of his movements.

Naruto realized he needed a long-range ninjutsu, but he still had options. The boy flung a shuriken, but the Channeler didn't even flinch—its mask gave nothing away.

It had already predicted the throw.

It readied its magic, and then a second shuriken slammed into the first.

The unexpected impact altered its course, changing its angle mid-flight, and before the Channeler could react, the blade sliced into its neck. The figure staggered, its spell fizzling out, hands grasping at the embedded weapon as it gurgled in shock.

The second floor of the church was something else entirely.

Naruto landed lightly on the balcony railing, eyes sweeping the upper level. A dozen Hollows lurked there, their tattered robes hanging off skeletal frames, their broken swords gripped in twitching fingers.

But Naruto's focus wasn't on them.

It was on the Channeler.

The robed figure stood at the far end of the balcony, its many-eyed mask betraying no emotion as it raised its trident, a blue glow surging at its tip. With a flick of its wrist, a Soul Arrow fired.

The bolt of magic cut through the air and passed harmlessly through Naruto's afterimage. The real Naruto had already moved. He flickered into place behind the Channeler, kunai already coated in wind chakra.

One clean slice.

The Channeler's head rolled from its shoulders, a gurgling hiss escaping its throat before its body collapsed.

Naruto exhaled sharply, shifting his grip as a new notification flashed before his eyes.

[Item obtained: Channeler's Trident]

But there was no time to celebrate as the mob of Hollows saw blood.

A horrifying shriek filled the air as they lunged, moving in a wild, frenzied mass, gnashing teeth and broken swords reaching for him.

Naruto flickered behind them, silent as shadows, watching the Hollows tear into the Channeler's corpse with mindless fury—ripping, clawing, hacking without purpose or pause. "Guess I'll grab his robes next time. Not like he's going anywhere."

He adjusted his grip on the trident, feeling its perfect balance shift with the faint hum of magic still clinging to its blades. Then he lunged forward.

The three-pronged spear spun with a piercing whir, the jagged, serrated tips rotating like a meat grinder as Naruto drove the weapon straight into the back of the nearest Hollow. The moment steel met undead flesh, the weapon came alive.

There was no resistance, only destruction.

Meat tore with a sickening rip. Vertebrae cracked and twisted under the force. The trident carved through the Hollow's spine, the spinning motion chewing through muscle and marrow. The creature convulsed violently as its body was ripped apart from the inside, blood and clots of blackened gore spraying outward in a gruesome burst.

In the space of a heartbeat, the Hollow split down the middle, torn open like a rotten fruit. Its two halves collapsed to the floor in steaming, twitching piles of viscera.

Naruto whistled low, spinning the trident once as the gore dripped from its tips. "This thing's awesome."

But the rest of the Hollow mob wasn't so impressed.

With shrieks and howls, they descended on him in a frenzy.

Naruto's smirk widened. He slammed a talisman to the floor. A split second later, a miraculous explosion of force erupted from his body in a sphere of white light. The Hollows were hurled backward in all directions. Some were flung headfirst into the stone walls, their skulls shattering on impact. Others crashed through the ruined pews, limbs cracking, spines snapping like dry twigs. Several hit the balcony railings above and tumbled down in a tangle of broken arms and legs, landing with wet, final crunches.

Before they could even twitch, Naruto summoned a squad of shadow clones with a flick of his wrist. They fell upon the scattered Hollows like wolves—driving kunai into eyes, snapping necks, tearing limbs with chakra-enhanced strikes.

The church was filled with the sound of flesh breaking.

Naruto exhaled slowly as silence returned. He lowered the trident, its tines still dripping. "That takes care of that."

Naruto's gaze swept the lower sanctum of the church. Below, the Berenike Knight stood at the center like an immovable monolith. Around him, three Balder Knights slinked along the flanks, their slim blades glinting under the fractured light.

They had lost sight of him.

For now.

He grinned faintly and raised the Channeler's Trident, slamming its wicked prongs into the stone floor with a dramatic flourish. "Go, Magic Arrow!"

Nothing happened.

Naruto blinked once.

No glow. No arcane flash. Not even a sizzle. Just the hollow clang of metal on stone.

"Right. Still need to learn how to shape my soul into magic."

Below, the clone vanguard exploded into action. Dozens leapt from the balcony in a coordinated assault, blades and fists whirling through the air as they crashed into the Balder Knights. Steel met steel, and the church rang with the clash of metal, the screams of dying clones, and the snarls of the undead. But Naruto's eyes were locked on the Berenike Knight.

He kicked off the railing with a sharp cry—"Dattebayo!"—descending like a diving hawk, cloak trailing behind him.

The Knight reacted instantly, swinging its enormous mace in a wide, crushing arc, which was only met by a wooden log as Naruto substituted and flickered behind the Knight.

Wind Style: Vacuum Blade!

Wind chakra swirled around the spinning prongs. The weapon ripped through the air, screaming toward the Knight's armpit—one of the few gaps in its massive armor. The trident drove in deep, twisting on contact. With a sickening crack, the Berenike Knight's shield arm tore free from the socket, flesh and sinew shredding apart as tendons popped like frayed cords. Blood sprayed in a wide arc, dark and steaming, misting the air like a burst artery.

The severed arm, still gripping the massive tower shield, hit the floor with a thunderous clang.

But the Knight didn't fall.

It roared, an inhuman bellow that rattled the walls, and raised its mace with its remaining arm—intent on reducing Naruto to pulp.

Naruto channeled wind chakra into the plates of his armor as the mace came down like a meteor, allowing him to dodge just in time.

The Berenike Knight's mace struck the stone floor where Naruto had stood an instant before. The impact was devastating—a crater formed beneath the weapon, a spiderweb of cracks erupting outward as a shockwave rattled through the crumbling church foundation.

Both warriors turned, eyes locking.

The Knight's helmet betrayed no expression, only a silent hunger for violence. But Naruto's grin was sharp, calculating. "You know," he said, cracking his neck as the wind around him hissed like a coiled snake, "this would be a lot easier if I didn't want your armor, shield, and weapon."

He popped his neck to the other side.

"But alas."

In a blur, Naruto's hands moved.

Shuriken flew from his fingers, each one bending around the great stone pillars of the church like curved blades riding invisible currents of wind.

They weren't meant to kill.

Not yet.

While the Berenike Knight shifted its stance to deflect the barrage, Naruto slipped toward the corpse of a fallen Balder Knight. He bent low, fingers curling around the cold hilt of the Balder Side Sword.

Naruto exhaled and took a low stance, feet shoulder-width apart, blade pointed in line with his opponent.

The Berenike Knight lunged.

But so did Naruto.

He wasn't faster, not in the raw sense. The Knight was a mountain, a charging fortress of iron and fury.

But Naruto wasn't really attacking.

He was baiting.

Just as the Knight committed to the charge, Naruto twisted hard to the left and dove behind the very pillar where one of his kunai had embedded itself earlier. The Knight's massive armored legs thundered forward until they didn't.

Its body jerked.

Then halted.

There was no noise. No spark. Just a sudden tightening in the air.

Fine lines shimmered, faintly visible for only a second—like dew catching moonlight.

Ninja wire.

Invisible threads of steel, woven between the pews and pillars in a complex spiderweb, anchored by every shuriken Naruto had thrown. But these weren't normal wires. They were thin, razor-like filaments, each one coated in wind chakra that hummed with murderous intent.

The Knight had charged into a death trap.

First its arms dropped. Then its head. And finally, with a trembling groan, its massive body collapsed forward like a crumbling obelisk.

[VICTORY ACHIEVED]
[You have gained:]
[1,000 Souls]
[Titanite Shard]
[Tower Shield]
[Steel Helm]
[Steel Armor]
[Steel Gauntlets]
[Steel Leggings]

"Whew. That was fun," Naruto muttered, rolling his shoulders as the last echoes of battle faded into silence. He turned to the remaining clones, who were already cleaning gore from their blades.

"Scout the area. Find the elevator. Check for traps while you're at it."

The clones nodded and vanished into the shadowed hallways like mist, boots barely whispering against the ruined stone floor. Alone again, Naruto crouched beside the fresh corpses of the Balder Knights. His fingers moved quickly but respectfully, prying open stiffened grips and loosening belts. One by one, he pulled the spoils free, laying them neatly at his side.

[You have obtained:]
[300 Souls]
[Large Titanite Shard]
[Balder Side Sword]
[Balder Shield × 3]
[Rapier × 3]
[Balder Armour Set × 3]

He let out a low whistle, eyes gleaming at the haul. "Not bad. Pretty sure Tenten's in for a shock when I show her all of this." With a smile on his face, he turned back to the altar. The pale white flame still flickered above the burned corpse, its glow soft yet unnatural. Frowning, he reached out, grasping the strange fire-like soul in his palm.

[Item Acquired: Fire Keeper Soul]
[Description: Soul of a long-lost Fire Keeper. Each Fire Keeper is a corporeal manifestation of her bonfire, and a draw for the humanity which is offered to her. Her soul is gnawed by infinite humanity and can boost the power of the precious Estus Flasks. It can be used to gain Humanity and restore HP at the cost of losing the Fire Keeper Soul to reinforce the Estus Flasks.]

Naruto squinted at the text, lips curling in confusion. "...What?"

Corporeal manifestation of her bonfire? His brows furrowed as he searched his memories, thinking back to every flickering flame he'd ever rested beside. Had he ever seen someone sitting near one? A woman?

But his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden groan of iron and the rattle of thick chains grinding through ancient gears.

His gaze snapped to the far end of the church.

One of his shadow clones was descending in an open iron lift, its grated floor swaying slightly as it was lowered on a massive, rusted chain coiled above like the guts of some mechanical serpent.

"That must be the elevator," Naruto muttered.

But his boots didn't move.

He lingered in place, eyes fixed on the open elevator leading back to Firelink Shrine. He could take it—return to safety, rest by the familiar flame, even begin his search for Rickert in New Londo to start his training in magic. But just above him, within reach, hung the First Bell of Awakening. Closer now than it had ever been.

His jaw tightened.

Was he ready for that? The bells were important. Everyone said so. Ringing them would summon something. Or awaken something. Or call someone. And whatever came after… he wasn't sure if he was prepared to deal with it.

Not yet.

Not with the Wave mission unfinished. Not with Gato still alive. Not with so much still brewing under the surface.

"I'll do it later," he said softly to himself.

He stepped into the elevator.

The metal cage trembled as it began its slow descent, chains rattling above him. Naruto leaned against the bars, watching the light of the church above retreat, swallowed by the dark throat of the shaft.

Because in that moment, with that single step down, something in the fabric of fate twisted. Just slightly. Just enough.

If he had chosen to ascend instead—to face the Gargoyles above and ring the First Bell of Awakening—perhaps he would have walked the path others had carved before him. The path of light. Of prophecy. Of gods and fire.

But Naruto turned away.

He didn't know it then—how far that turn would take him from the story written by the gods, and toward one of his own making.

One not bound by the cycles of Fire and Dark, but by chaos and calamity.

For life isn't forged in prophecy. It's forged in choice.