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Glory to my bum ass proofreader: Solare.
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"Well then, mine champion… how doth thou feel?"
The last flickers of golden light slid off his skin like water.
John's body, which had been hovering a few inches off the ground within the heart of the Divine Tower's beam, finally settled back onto solid stone. His boots touched down with a soft scrape, the air around him still buzzing like an overcharged power line.
"I feel…"
He trailed off as he lifted his right arm.
It wasn't human.
At some point during the eruption of Grace, the limb had flowed seamlessly into its draconic form: blackened, jagged scales wrapping forearm and hand, fingers ending in curved claws instead of nails. Crimson lightning crackled faintly along the ridges like residual static.
And yet, holding it there and flexing his scaled fingers, he realised it cost him nothing.
There was no drag upon his Mana, no aching strain in the bones and tendons, none of the subtle fatigue that had always followed prolonged transformations. It was… as natural as breathing. Maybe more natural than breathing.
"...I feel…"
He straightened fully, rolling his shoulders back. The tower's rooftop was still humming faintly underfoot from the beam's passage. Overhead, the sky was tinted orange and purple where the setting sun fought with the last fading motes of Grace.
He tipped his head back and stared up at it.
'Has it always looked like that?' He closed his eyes and inhaled.
The air flowing into his lungs felt clean in a way that made his chest ache. Not just free of dust and blood-smell, but as though someone had quietly stripped away a filter he'd forgotten was there. His ribs expanded, his back stretched with a deep, satisfying pull all the way down to his spine.
Muscles slid smoothly over one another like oiled wire. His Immortal Heart's beat was steady and powerful, each thump felt like a low, constant drum inside his chest.
"Perfect." A small, pleased smile curved across his face. "I feel Perfect."
John exhaled slowly.
Under his skin, something glowed like magma flowing deep in stone.
He glanced down at his torso and chest, fingers brushing over where the Frenzied Flame's spiral burn had once marred his flesh. The twisted scar pattern was gone. In its place were dark, jagged scales. They were not as thick as the ones on his arm, but they were there, embedded where damaged flesh had been.
It looked like his body had simply decided "Nope, that's a weak point" and armored it over.
He pulled his scaled arm back and snapped a single punch out at the empty air, putting real force behind it.
The air cracked as a short, sharp gust of wind pushed out from his fist, tugging loose dust from between the rooftop stones in a tiny radial burst.
"Hm~ why, of course thou dost feel that way. I could almost claim the same, after witnessing all that~."
Marika's voice rippled through his mind with a songlike lilt. It was the particular tone she only used when she was in an exceptionally good mood.
John blew out a sharp breath through his nose in amusement as he drew his arm back in to inspect it again.
The scales were denser now, disparate plates interlocking more like a gauntlet than a hide. Beneath them he could feel cords of muscle that hadn't been there before, or at least not like this. His hand felt like it could crush stone by accident if he forgot himself.
"I changed again…" He muttered, mostly to himself. "Did I not?"
"Changed?" Marika laughed, a bright, unrestrained sound that was still strange coming from her. "Oh, mine champion~ I do hope that thou, of all people, would know not to be too humble in these things~!"
She manifested on his right, lounging back on a reclined couch of pure Grace hanging in midair as if gravity were merely a rumor. Golden light haloed her long hair and traced the edges of her features; her lips were curved in a smirk that didn't even pretend to hide her satisfaction.
"Thou hast accepted a Great Rune, Johnathan." She said, eyes gleaming. "And then activated it properly upon its true Divine Tower. It is not an exaggeration to say that thou art more than a mere mortal now. Thy Immortal Heart, thy draconic blood; they have both accepted the Divine axis of mine Ring and allowed thee to ascend unto greater heights."
She tilted her head slightly, that smirk sharpening, hypnotic golden eyes seeming to peer deeper than his skin.
"Have a look~..."
She snapped her fingers.
The world flickered as a hard-edged rectangle of blue sigils and white text slammed into existence in front of him.
[Welcome back, User {John Elden Ring}! The system has officially finished important updates.]
More panels spawned instantly, stacking over one another until his entire field of view was almost wall-to-wall UI.
[Congratulations!]
[Your Bloodline {Dracúl Aeternum}'s evolution has been accelerated!]
[Your Draconic Rites' efficiency have now been greatly increased!]
[Your control over your Blood's powers grows steadily.]
[More changes are expected as your body grows, evolves and surpasses its own creation.]
John's eyebrows crept up under his fringe. "Okay, so the glow-up isn't just in my head."
Another panel popped up, shoving the last aside.
[Congratulations!]
[Your actions across the Lands Between have created a legend, an epitaph, and an axis of Worship for your followers band under.]
[You are now the Object of Faith for many beings.]
[As a result, a connection to the Belief network has been established.]
[The Faith of your followers shall flow into you, even as your own actions spur their Belief onwards.]
[Your intrinsic Faith Energies have risen dramatically, and will continue to rise passively as your Belief Network expands.]
[+30 to Faith!]
John stared.
"…That sounds disturbingly like I just got signed up for being a god." He muttered.
He couldn't help picturing all the "Johnathan" stories currently mutating their way through taverns and travel camps.
Object of Faith. Axis of Worship.
He shivered.
It wasn't a bad shiver, exactly. Just the kind that said, "This escalated faster than the tutorial said it would."
Another chime rang through his head.
[Notice!]
[Unique foreign Grace signature has been detected and fully integrated.]
[Radagon's Soreseal has been absorbed into the User's body and fully integrated, removing its downside and burden upon the User's Soul.]
John blinked. "Wait, the Soreseal actually… fused? And it ditched the downside?"
He flexed his left hand, remembering the subtle drag of strain he'd gotten used to ignoring from the talisman's constant pressure. It was gone. Only raw stat-boosting potential remained.
"Nice…" He said. "That's actually huge, I got another free Talisman slot!"
Another panel nudged its way to the front.
[Congratulations!]
[New upgrades to the system have finally been actualised by the System Administrator.]
[Access to the {MEDIA} tab has now been unlocked.]
"...I'm not sure if I should be excited or terrified about that." John muttered. "Because if that's what I think it is…"
"Media?" Marika repeated, tasting the word like it was a foreign fruit. "Is that another of thy baffling mortal contraptions, from thy original world?"
"Don't worry about it, we'll see what it's really about later." He absolutely was not going to explain memes to his inner goddess right now.
The next panel was bigger, more ornate, edged with golden filigree.
[Congratulations!]
[You have fully absorbed, activated, and accepted a Great Rune. The Base, Foundation Shard of the ELDEN RING.]
[All of your stats have been enhanced dramatically in accordance to the Great Rune's boons.]
[Rune efficiency has also risen by 100%]
[This has also unlocked a Special Ability that is only possible to acquire through this Great Rune.]
The UI shifted, collapsing all the floating notifications into a single large page.
At its center, the icon of the Great Rune he'd just claimed glowed: a heavy circular ring of molten green-gold, root-like spokes branching inward and outward. Seven other Great Rune symbols, fainter, dimmed-out variants, fanned around it in an uneven circle, all connected to the central one by thin threads of light.
A new tab pulsed near the top edge: [GREAT RUNES].
John reached towards the central icon and tapped it with a finger, it expanded with a click.
[ETERNAL SOVEREIGNTY.]
"The Right to Rule must be Earned, Taken, or Granted. A King must be Greater than All who Stand before Him. This very Shard of Marika's ELDEN RING was a promise from the Elden Beast itself—that She, and all of her Kin, shall Reign as Golden Sovereigns, Eternally."
[Eternal Sovereignty grants the User a singular ability.]
[Any Great Rune that is acquired and integrated following the Foundation shall be enhanced to its fullest form and evolved beyond.]
John's mouth went dry as he read the last line again.
"...Excuse me?"
To say he was shell-shocked was putting it mildly.
He'd gone into this expecting +5 to all stats. A flat boost, and maybe something extra for realism. A bit of "You now have +10% to 'Not Dying When Hit by Stupid Crap.".
Not this.
"If this is real… then… I can stack them?" He whispered slowly.
His mind raced. "If I can activate Godrick's Rune as my foundation and then every other Great Rune I take gets pushed to max and then some… that's…"
Broken. It was broken in the way only a system designed by a smug Outer God could be.
The possibilities snapped through his thoughts like lightning: Radahn, Rykard, Rennala, Mohg, Morgott, Malenia, Miquella. Each one held a Great rune, each one a concept, a domain. Each one potentially tuned to eleven and then duct-taped onto him.
"If this is to be believed…" He reasoned. "I could run all eight at once."
He turned, grinning despite himself, to Marika.
"You knew something like this would happen." He accused lightly. "Didn't you?"
Her smirk widened.
"I suspected it might." She admitted. "Not the precise form of it, nor that this particular Shard lay in that miserable wretch's hands… but when the Ring was shattered, I felt the greatest fragments spark and fly."
Her expression turned inward, distant for a heartbeat.
"This Shard, I distinctly recall, didst gravitate toward Caria Manor. Toward the Moon's brood. I had assumed 'twas in Ranni's possession."
"Ranni, huh…" John murmured. "So Godrick was holding something meant for someone actually competent. Figures."
He looked back down at his right arm and willed it to relax.
The draconic limb rippled. Scales smoothed, retracted, skin paling as bone and flesh flowed into a more human shape. In a second or two, he was looking at his "normal" hand again.
He flexed it.
It felt human. But after everything. After gaining his Immortal Heart, scales, lightning, this- He wasn't sure if "human" still applied to anything about him.
"Well…" He muttered. "Add that to the list of existential crises for later."
He flicked his gaze through the hovering panels, quickly bookmarking the new tabs mentally. There'd be time later when he wasn't standing on a skyscraper to dig through the MEDIA tab and the Belief Network without falling off the tower in shock.
The tremors underfoot were fading now. The last faint wisps of Grace were drifting away from the tower's crown, dissolving into the darkening sky.
'The others will be here soon. I shouldn't stand around and look like I'm talking to thin air for too long.' He thought.
Curiosity clawed at him.
"Okay…" He said, looking at Marika. "I definitely feel stronger. A lot stronger. Show me the stat changes. I want to see the numbers."
Marika hummed, tilting her head with a wry little smile.
"As thou wish~."
She snapped her fingers again.
The System obediently dragged a new panel front and center.
[STATS PAGE – Level 62]
Name: John Elden Ring | Johnathan Pendragon
Race: Progenitor of the Dracúl Aeternum
Talisman: Green Turtle Talisman - _ - _ - _
Burden: Light
Spells: Flame, Grant Me Strength - Bestial Vitality - Stone of Gurranq - _ - _ - _
INSIGHT: 37 "Wowwww, look at you! Just aware enough to get your shit rocked by the Witches of Hemwick and nothing else!"
Level: 62
Vigor: 80 "It's smart, putting this much into Vigor early. Y'know, given that you'd get hit by everything and die immediately otherwise. Me personally tho-"
Mind: 60 "I'm honestly surprised your mind is this high. But then again, it was never a matter of how big it is, it's about how you use it."
Endurance: 65 "Speaking of about how you use it, maybe you'd get further than three thrusts into your maiden before falling over this time~! ...Oh, wait! I forgot, the last time was that Makima body pillow!"
Strength: 75 "Look, I know Unga Bunga builds are fun and all; but I don't think you were supposed to take it that seriously. You're not even that strong!"
Dexterity: 60 "Come on lad, get some movement in that body. What'd I put you in this world for, to embarrass me with this shit movement? You step in shit?!"
Intelligence: 34 "...You do realise that the stats can reach upwards of 400 for the top tiers, right? How the hell are you still at 34 in INT?! It's been a week! This kinda retardation is clinical, did I choose a defective Champion for Marika?!"
Faith: 80 "I suppose you'd need to be a blind believer to be that stupid. Then again, you are lowkenuinely praying to boobs. I wonder what your followers would think if they knew that~?"
Arcane: 62 "Careful now, boyo! Wouldn't wanna raise this stat too high too soon. That's how you start running into Amygdalas and we do NOT have the right AO3 tags for that yet!"
John stared at the panel for a long second with a completely flat expression.
Not even considering the addition of the new INSIGHT stat, the rest of the numbers were insane. Nearly all of them had spiked dramatically, multiple stats sitting comfortably in the "New Game +" stat territory.
Although, if the comment on the INT stat was to be believed, that wasn't the case anymore.
But that wasn't what had him frozen.
It was the commentary.
These were not Marika's usual dry, archaic jabs that he had come to find rather endearing. The cadence was all wrong, the references were… wrong.
AO3. Amygdalas. Hemwick.
Marika could quote Golden Order theological treatises from memory. She did not know what fanfiction sites or Bloodborne-specific nightmare gods were.
The worst offender was the Intelligence line.
"Did I choose a defective Champion for Marika?!"
"That's…" John muttered slowly as he felt one of his eyelids twitch.. "Are these Helios' comments?"
He spoke mostly to himself, but he could feel Marika perk up beside him, curious.
Before she could answer, the stat panel glitched. The edges fuzzed, lines of text distorting into nonsense symbols for a heartbeat before snapping back into focus with a small, separate window layered on top.
[Hehe~! Caught red handed I suppose~ Though, I have to hand it to ya! When I chose you for this mission, the last thing I expected was for it to be this entertaining~]
John's jaw clenched.
"So it is you…" He growled. "You annoying cunt. Where've you been the past week? And what's with this broken-ass, incomplete system?"
Marika, of course, let out an amused little giggle, one hand covering her mouth.
The panel flickered again, text rewriting itself.
[Man~! So mean, honestly! From both of you, too. Why are you laughing? Do either of you have any idea how hard it is to recreate a system from scratch and make it match one made by overworked Japanese Devs? Especially on such short notice too!]
The message was accompanied by a tiny chibi illustration layered in the corner: a white-haired, red-eyed anime girl in a purple dress crouched on the ground, fists pounding at the floor like a scolded child.
Marika blinked at the image.
"I cannot decide whether I should be apologetic… or laugh even harder." She murmured.
John just looked more annoyed.
Marika opened her mouth to say something, but the panel glitched again, cutting her off.
[Ughhh… We don't have time for this, my connection isn't gonna last long and the others are gonna be here soon. So, Marika, I'm gonna need you to SYBAU for a little while.]
"...I'm sorry," John said, voice going dangerously calm. "You're gonna need her to what?"
"What in mine name is a 'SYBAU'-" Marika began.
And then, abruptly, John couldn't hear her.
No sound. Her lips continued to move, golden eyes widening as she spoke. But to him, it was like someone had hit the mute button on reality.
An icon popped into existence over her mouth: a tiny red microphone, crossed out.
She reached up reflexively and tried to grab it, her fingers passed straight through.
John turned slowly back to the system window, pointing a stiff finger at her.
"D-Did… did you just mute her?!"
Another panel popped.
[Duh?]
"How did you mute her? Why did you mute her?!" John demanded, genuinely offended on Marika's behalf.
[Well, obviously, she severely overestimated her own level of clearance.
She may be a Moderator, but she is no Administrator.
:3]
On cue, a little cat-mouth emoticon appeared.
"…I feel like I'm losing brain cells the longer this conversation goes on…" John muttered.
Marika glared between him and the floating screen, silently mouthing what were probably very un-goddesslike words. She continued trying to pry the mute icon off her face, to absolutely no effect.
Another window shunted itself front and center.
[FOCUS!
I'm only ever gonna get the chance to explain this once, and you won't hear from me again till you absorb your next Great Rune!]
John exhaled through his nose and nodded grudgingly.
He side-eyed Marika, still grappling with an intangible UI element, then looked back at the text.
"All right. I'm listening. And for the record, this is a dick move."
[...I expect more reverence next time, but whatever. As you should have gathered by now, the system you are using is incomplete. And the way to complete it is through gathering more Shards of the Elden Ring. Not only that, but it's also gonna make you way, way stronger.]
"I was already planning to do that." John said. "It's literally the plot. What's so important that you had to hit the mute button on Marika for me to hear it?"
Another line scrolled in, slower.
[Soooo~ you know how the entire reason the Shattering happened was because of the Elden Ring's stagnency? How Marika was pushed into shattering it in order to break the cycle?]
John glanced at Marika. She had stopped attacking the mute icon and was now watching the text intently, her expression tight.
"Yeah? It's kinda hard to miss."
[Well, I have found a way to fix that.]
That made him straighten.
Even without sound, he could feel Marika's attention sharpen beside him. The air around her seemed to go still.
"Huh. How?" John said. "Explain."
The next block of text came with a faint screen judder, as if reality itself were annoyed by what it was about to host.
[It's quite simple you see. With the help of the system I created, I am hijacking the Elden Ring, piece by piece.]
John's heart skipped a beat and Marika's eyes went very, very wide.
Hijacking the Elden Ring.
Not just using its power, not just working alongside it. Hijacking it.
"Details." John said automatically. "Give me details. Because that sounds like something that should maybe be on the list of things I should definitely know about."
He didn't need to look to know that Marika wanted the same thing even more desperately than he did.
But Helios' reply was immediate and completely unsurprising.
[Look, don't sweat the details. You're not nearly smart enough to comprehend the workings of Outer Gods, and you'd likely start growing eyes on your brains if I tried explaining them to you. Just focus on doing what you do best, and I'll make sure everything ends well on my end. Are we clear?]
A few veins stood out on John's temple.
He really wanted to argue the "not smart enough" bit, but the part about eyes on his brain rang with that particular silent-alarm truth his meta knowledge recognized as an important detail.
He ground his teeth once and forced himself to nod.
"...Crystal."
The chibi anime-girl avatar reappeared, now with her hands on her hips and a smug, closed-eye smile.
[Good boy~ Now lock in, your NPC buddies are incoming.]
John's fist clenched so hard his knuckles went white.
"Oi, useless God..." He snapped. "Say what you want about me. Ragebait me, take the piss out of my build, whatever. But do not call them that. Are we clear?"
[...]
The panel blinked and for a moment, it went blank. There was no text, just a white square with a faint static hiss.
Then new words slowly formed.
[...Hehehe~ Oh… Your development is going quite nicely~]
Before John could respond to that, the entire interface shuddered. Windows collapsed, icons flickered, and then, with a soft pop, every System panel vanished from view.
Sound snapped back in from his side.
"-to presume to-!" Marika's voice burst into his ears mid-sentence. She stopped, blinked, and touched her throat. "Ah. Mine voice returns."
John snorted and spat over at his side.
"Good riddance…" He muttered. "Jackass."
Marika folded her arms under her chest, golden eyes narrowed.
"I concur…" She said primly. "That was… uncouth of him."
Then, slowly, the anger in her gaze faded, replaced by a thoughtful, almost wary light.
"Still…" She went on, one hand lifting to rub her chin. "His revelations prove to be paramount. His hijacking of the Elden Ring brings some form of concern… yet it could be precisely what we need to usher in our new age, in time."
John flexed his now-human-looking fingers in his right hand and his draconic ones in his left, feeling power humming under skin that wasn't quite human anymore.
"Yeah…" He said quietly. "If he doesn't screw us all over first."
John was still watching the horizon when he heard them.
Bootsteps on stone. A familiar clink of armor, the whisper of cloth, the soft tunk of a staff butt tapping for balance. Voices, low at first, rising with every step along the stair and through the archway that opened onto the Divine Tower's rooftop.
'Right, forgot they were there for a minute there.'
He ran a hand through his hair and half-turned his head, but didn't face them yet. Dust and faint steam still drifted around him in slow coils from the pillar's aftershock, backlit by the dying sun so that, from the doorway, he probably looked more silhouette than person.
He heard Solaire first.
"...Marvelous…" The knight breathed.
Then, louder, voice exploding into the open air like a fanfare:
"ABSOLUTELY MARVELOUS!"
The shout bounced off the tower's stone and made John's lips twitch.
"THAT IS IT!" Solaire roared, so full of conviction that even the dust seemed to pause midair to listen. "If there is anything in this world that could grant my Dream salvation, it would be this! Without a shadow of a doubt! With Lord Gwyn himself as my witness, it was as if the Sun itself had touched down upon the earth to personally bathe you in its essence!"
His words tumbled over one another, too excited to be orderly.
Behind him, Millicent huffed out a laugh.
The pure, unfiltered joy in Solaire's voice pulled a small, helpless chuckle out of John.
He turned, the dust and lingering steam still obscured most of him from their view as golden motes hung in the air, clinging to his shoulders in the last echo of the Grace beam.
Melina, just inside the archway, narrowed her eye slightly, trying to pierce the haze.
Her breath caught.
More of his hair was white.
Before, it had been mostly dark, with a few stark streaks of white tearing through it like lightning scars. Now those streaks had thickened and spread. The white ran through his bangs, fanned along his temples, and threaded deeper into the longer locks at the back, about a third of the whole now a cool, almost luminous silver.
It should have made him look older. Somehow, it only made him look… sharper. More otherworldly. More…
'Hot…' Her mind supplied treacherously.
She swallowed, heat flickering in her chest, and forced her gaze up toward his eyes instead of lingering.
"My apologies, my dear, dear friend!" Solaire boomed, armor clanking as he stepped closer, unable to hold himself back. "But from this moment onwards, you must consider me one of your rivals in acquiring the other Shards of the Elden Ring!"
He slammed a fist gleefully against his breastplate with a ringing clang, as if swearing a knightly oath.
John arched an eyebrow.
"Rival, huh?" He said, amusement curling his mouth. "Guess I'll have to make sure you don't out-sun me, then."
"It was like watching a great beast being crowned." Nepheli said straightforwardly. "Godrick was unbearable. You? You've earned it. More than most wearing a Great Rune."
Edgar, standing slightly back in his formal coat, put a hand to his chest and bowed his head.
"To behold such a miracle of Grace, bestowed upon my lord." He said reverently. "I am unworthy. We are all unworthy."
John's ears warmed at that, which he stubbornly ignored.
Before Melina could add her own words to the growing pile, the last of the dust finally began to fall.
The breeze sighed across the rooftop, thin light sweeping away the haze.
And Johnathan was revealed in all his glory.
Melina's face went incandescent red in an instant.
Alllll his glory.
John, for his part, turned more fully toward them, smiling.
He felt something… slap against his inner thigh.
He frowned, glanced down and felt his brain momentarily blue-screen.
There was nothing between him and the world but skin and scales.
The Divine Tower's light had done its work thoroughly. Every trace of armor, cloth, leather, cape were gone. Vaporized. Disintegrated so completely that there wasn't even ash left on the ground. Only him, his bare limbs, the patterns of dark scales across his ribs and shoulder, and… Little Johnny.
Except, he wasn't so little anymore.
"Damn…" Nepheli whistled softly, unabashedly letting her gaze travel. "It's like a snake down there."
Her tone was layered: impressed, amused, and not even attempting to hide how attractive she found the rest of him. The muscles cut along his arms and chest looked chiseled, almost statue-perfect, plates of scale catching the light in strange, molten edges.
Her offhand commentary kicked the dam wide open.
"J-Johnathan!" Melina damn near shrieked, hands flying to her face. She slapped one palm over her eye on reflex before she, shamefully, spread two fingers just enough to peek through anyway.
Millicent burst into hysterical laughter.
"Well now~!" She bark out, eyes shining with mischief. "Johnny, if you wanted to show off your third sword, you could've just said so."
"Millicent!" Melina hissed, scandalized, her blush somehow deepening even further.
"What?!" Millicent grinned, elbowing her in the side suggestively. "I'm just saying, if you're gonna hog him all to yourself, at least share the view once in a while."
Edgar, meanwhile, had dropped to one knee.
"My lord!" He said, voice thick with emotion. "To see you in your new, perfected form… Truly, a sight to be burned into my eyes until the day they close! I shall never forget this vision of might and… er… virility."
"Ah…" Rogier managed weakly. "Well. From a purely anatomical standpoint, the visible manifestation of your Draconic Heart is… fascinating."
His gaze had locked not on John's lower half but on the faint glow beneath the scales over his chest, where you could almost see a dim, slow pulse of crimson light between ribs if you squinted.
Solaire nodded solemnly, arms crossed, as if appraising a fine statue. "Fear not, Friend Johnathan! I approve wholeheartedly of your shamelessness. An aspiring Lord should never be embarrassed by the form the world has gifted him! Stand tall!"
John felt his soul leave his body for a second as he took in the scene. Their faces, their comments, and his complete lack of pants, and pieced it together in his head.
'So the beam didn't just juice my stats… It literally lasered my clothes off.' He thought faintly as his eyes trailed back down to his crotch.
'...If there's any consolation for this moment, it's that my dick got bigger again.'
He gave himself a tiny, invisible fist pump in his own mind.
Marika, on the other hand, did not seem to share his ability to find silver linings.
She appeared just behind Melina in a flash of gold, cheeks faintly flushed, eyes widening as she took in her champion's entirely unclothed state.
She placed her palms over Melina's already-covered eye, as if adding extra goddess-hands would somehow shield her daughter more effectively. It did absolutely nothing to Melina's actual line of sight, of course.
John shot her a deadpan look. 'You do know you physically can't block her field of vision, right?'
"Hush!" Marika snapped, more flustered than regal for once. "Put some raiment upon thyself at once, mine champion! Cease flashing mine daughter, mine grandchild, and thy compatriots like some shameless satyr!"
Melina, even without hearing her mother, seemed perfectly in sync with the sentiment.
She yanked her own cloak off in one jerk and flung it at him.
It sailed through the air in a neat arc and smacked into his face, the fabric draping over his head, shoulders, and down across his chest. It just barely, barely covered his manhood.
"C-Cover yourself!" She yelped, voice climbing an octave. "Quickly!"
She bit down on the next words that tried to claw their way out, "only I'm allowed to see you like that", and swallowed them, visibly strangling the thought before it made it to her tongue.
John laughed, low and helpless, but he obeyed.
"All right, all right…" He called out from under the cloak. "Everyone calm your horny little hearts."
Muffled chuckles rippled through the group.
He flicked his System open with a thought and quick-scrolled through his inventory. A pair of loose, black trousers he'd stuffed in there "just in case" blessedly still existed.
One mental tap, a flash of UI, and fabric materialized where needed.
He adjusted, made sure everything important was fully covered, then lifted Melina's cloak off his face.
Rather than hand it back immediately, he swung it around his shoulders and fastened it at the throat. He turned to face them properly, one hand sweeping out in a little half-bow, cloak flaring.
"How about now?" he said, letting a teasing smirk tug at his lips. "Better, Princess~?"
Melina's blush, which had just started to recede, flared scarlet again.
She huffed, turning her head aside, arms crossing over her chest.
"...Yes." She mumbled. "Better. You… pervert. Next time, put on clothes faster."
John barked out a full, unrestrained laugh.
Millicent laughed with him, then elbowed Melina lightly.
"So you were looking~" She sing-songed. "Greedy little maiden, hogging Johnny all for yourself."
"Millicent!" Melina sputtered again, genuinely torn between embarrassment and the urge to stab her adopted gremlin. Behind her, Marika sighed in relief and retreated to her cloud of Grace.
Solaire's booming chuckle joined in. Even Rogier cracked a faint smile. Nepheli just shook her head, grinning, clearly unconcerned by the whole thing. Edgar, somehow, looked like he might cry from sheer joy.
The tension bled out of the rooftop in waves of good-natured laughter.
For the first time since he'd stepped into Stormveil, the air around them felt… almost light.
After a few moments, John shook his head, still smirking, and rolled his shoulders.
"All right…" He said, sobering a little. "As much as I'd love to keep entertaining you all, we've had a long day. We should call it here and head back to the Roundtable. You should come with us, Solaire."
"That would be… wise." Rogier agreed at once, exhaustion flickering in his eyes. "I admit, my reserves are quite drained. I've never cast so much in so short a span."
"I'm tired too." Millicent said unabashedly. "Fun as it was, cutting through half a castle in a day is a bit much for just one arm."
"I would not object to rest." Melina added quietly. "Minor Erdtree is… taxing."
Nepheli rolled her shoulders like she was ready for another fight, but even she let out a small breath.
Solaire clasped his hands together, sunlight-bright as ever.
"A night of rest at such a marvelous… ah, 'Roundtable Hold' you spoke of? I would be honored to accompany you, Friend Johnathan."
Before they could make for the tower's inner lift, Edgar cleared his throat.
"Ah, my lord." He called out. "If I may impose but a moment longer. There is… something I wished to present to you before you depart."
John paused. "Oh?"
"When we first met, you slayed a Night's Cavalry to save us." Edgar said. "I had my men return to the site and salvage what they could of its armor."
John let out a low whistle. "Damn, nice work!"
"As you once entrusted me with the task of logistics," Edgar said, "I took the liberty of seeing to its restoration. I also had copies of the clothes I previously provided you made and prepared in your size, in case you continued your habit of… ah… returning from battle in less than you went with."
"You're a lifesaver, Edgar." John's lips curved into a warm smile. "Literally and figuratively."
Edgar smiled, lines at the corners of his eyes deepening.
"In addition, we have begun following the orders you gave before storming Stormveil. My men have located several promising mines for smithing stones in the Peninsula's outlying hills. We have also started organizing farming rotations and moving willing families from the more dangerous parts of Limgrave to the Peninsula, where Morne's walls can better protect them."
"As instructed we hunted for anything resembling the tears and seeds you described." Edgar said, "Two Scared Tears were collected from the 2 remaining churches in the Peninsula as well as four Golden Seeds found across your lands, exactly how you described they would be."
"You did all this in, what, a few days?" John asked, genuinely impressed.
"We merely did as you commanded." Edgar said simply, a hand held at his chest. "You freed Castle Morne. You brought hope back to the Peninsula, and relief to Limgrave. This is nothing more than the barest payment we can offer in return."
He met John's eyes, expression utterly sincere.
"We owe our lives, and the happiness of our families, to you, Lord Johnathan. This is nothing."
Something warm and unfamiliar curled in John's chest.
'They're reorganizing their lives around you.' A small, stunned part of him thought. 'Because you killed some monsters and gave a damn.'
He had no idea what to do with that.
"...Thanks, really." He managed, his voice was a bit rougher than usual. "You and your people… you've done good work. Keep at it. We're just getting started."
Edgar bowed deeply, obviously delighted by even that simple praise.
"It shall be done, my lord. Morne, Haight, and all our holdings stand ready to serve."
He spotted Marika watching from her floating couch of Grace with a proud, almost fond smile touching her lips from the corner of his eyes.
John pretended he didn't feel his ears heat.
They made their way back down through the tower, the lift carrying them in a slow descent, before stepping out onto the now-quiet bridge leading to Stormveil.
The castle, under Edgar and Caelan's temporary command, was already shifting: soldiers hauling rubble, banners being swapped out, Stormveil's old sigils replaced here and there with new standards bearing a dragon intertwined with Morne's crest.
Inside, in one of the great halls now half-cleared of debris and corpses, Edgar's men formally handed over the Night's Cavalry armor and new clothes. John stowed most of it into his inventory for later, keeping only a simple shirt to go with his stolen cloak and pants for now.
Goodbyes were exchanged.
Edgar clasped his forearm with knightly fervor, and Nepheli promised she would return to continue training Stormveil's survivors into a proper fighting force.
At the edge of the main hall, Melina drew closer to him, the familiar glow of Grace already gathering around her hand.
"Are you ready?" She asked softly.
John glanced around at them. He saw Solaire practically vibrating with anticipation, Millicent smirking, Rogier tired but content, Nepheli resolute, Edgar watching with quiet pride from a distance, and nodded.
"Yeah." He said. "Roundtable Hold it is."
He looked at Solaire specifically.
"You sure about this? It's a whole other… place, and it's rather weird."
Solaire laughed, bright and fearless.
"A place where great warriors gather, and where I may walk beside you a while longer on this marvelous path? I would be a fool to refuse."
Melina smiled faintly, then lifted her hand.
Light flared as Grace swirled up around their feet, tugging at cloaks and armor, and drawing them inward. The world blurred, the scent of stone and blood and sea-salt wind replaced by something older.
In a heartbeat, Stormveil's great hall vanished.
The Roundtable Hold awaited.
…
And it was… louder than usual.
Dozens, no, hundreds of Tarnished milled about the great hall he always arrived in, their armor clinking and robes swishing, the air thick with overlapping conversations.
"I've never felt Grace like that before!"
"No shit bro! It damn near tore right through my skull-!"
"It was the tower in Limgrave, I tell you! I saw it with my own eyes!"
"That just confirms it, it's a new Shardbearer, has to be-!"
Every surface seemed occupied: men and women leaning against pillars, sitting on crates, sprawled in chairs dragged in from gods-knew-where. Someone had set up extra tables along the walls to handle the overflow. The usual quiet, almost reverent atmosphere had been replaced by the buzz of a tavern after the last call.
John's arrival drew eyes.
Heads turned, conversations faltered. A few people straight-up gaped. His new looks probably weren't helping subtlety, walking barefoot in black pants, tunic, and Melina's cloak, hair now streaked heavily white, faint scale glint at his throat.
A moment later, the light of Grace coalesced again behind them.
Nepheli and Rogier stumbled out of the teleport flare, catching themselves with practiced ease.
Rogier let out a small breath.
"Ah. Home…" He said, casting a glance around, the noise made him wince faintly. "Or… perhaps a very noisy cousin to it today."
Nepheli's jaw clenched reflexively at the sight of so many Tarnished in one place, but she kept her shoulders squared and chin high.
She turned to John. "I will go and rest my strength. Stormveil's survivors will need their commander sharp."
Her eyes flicked briefly to his, that same measure of respect and curiosity there.
"Don't take too long, we might start a party soon enough." John said jokingly.
She huffed, almost a laugh. "Then I will be sure to arrive before the dancing starts."
Rogier gave them a shallow bow, hands folded over his staff. "I shall retire as well. The next time you decide to rewrite an era, John, do please give me notice. I'd like to arrange my research notes in advance."
"Where's the fun in that?" John grinned.
Rogier's smile broadened just a fraction. "Fair enough. We will speak again soon."
They both peeled off into the milling crowd. Rogier went toward the small side hall that led to his alcove, Nepheli toward another corridor, the press of Tarnished parting around them.
"A fortress adrift in the void…" Solaire murmured as he was turning in place slowly, looking around with a child's wonder and a veteran's eye. "Walls without a sky, and yet lit by such a gentle glow. It is… most peculiar."
His face split into a wide smile. "I approve!"
"Welcome to the Roundtable Hold." John chuckled, gesturing broadly. "Please ignore the fact that everyone here is staring."
"They stare because you shine, friend." Solaire said cheerfully. "And because you have a woman's cloak on."
"That too." John conceded.
He caught Millicent's eye. She was smirking at all the gawking like a cat that had just waltzed into a dog show.
Melina stayed close at his side, her presence steady. She was watching the room carefully, one hand resting near the daggers at her belt in a casual-but-not-really way.
"Come on." John said. "Let's grab a table before the last seat gets claimed."
They started toward the main hall, weaving through clusters of Tarnished, even as whispers followed.
"That's him, isn't it?"
"No shit, look at him."
"Hair wasn't that white before, was it?"
"That girl with him, that's the finger maiden, Melina was it?"
"He's got someone new this time, who's the man in the sun-marked armor?"
"Is he even allowed to bring people in without permission?"
John did his best to ignore it. There'd been no point thinking he could keep what just happened quiet; the divine flare from the Limgrave tower had hit Roundtable Hold like a gong. Everyone here was Grace-touched. Everyone here had felt it.
He was halfway to the far side of the main hall when a familiar voice called out.
"Oi! Johnny!"
John looked over.
At a side table near one of the pillars, three people were seated with drinks and a scattered deck of cards: Roderika, perched carefully on her chair with a small mug of something steaming; Corhyn, robes slightly askew like he'd been rushing; and Patches, lounging with one leg crossed over the other, a smirk practically stapled to his face.
Roderika waved at him, shy but excited. Corhyn lifted a hand in greeting. Patches just lifted his chin.
A moment later, the bald thief visibly gaped his mouth in shock, looking as if he had seen a ghost. Then, he immediately covered it with his usual scheming smirk. But John had noticed it, and he would not let the thief off too easily.
He would teach him a lesson, in time.
"John!" Roderika called out as he detoured with Solaire, Millicent, and Melina in tow. "Do you… do you know what that was? The surge?"
"Aye." Corhyn added, adjusting his cowl. "The entire Hold shook and Grace fluctuated all at once, as if… as if the Erdtree had leaned in. Have you any notion what transpired?"
Patches snorted. "Come on, Chosen– A-AHEM! I mean, Johnny Boy. You're usually the one at fault when the universe hiccups. Spill."
John laughed, filing away Patches' misspeech for later.
"Oh, that?" He said, pitching his voice just loud enough to carry because fuck it, subtlety was dead. He might as well let everyone know who the new big dog in town was. "Yeah, that was me."
Conversations in a ten-foot radius dipped as he leaned one elbow on their table, grinning.
"I went up to Stormveil." He said, ticking points off on his fingers. "Killed Godrick the Grafted, stole his Great Rune, then took it to Limgrave's Divine Tower and flipped the 'on' switch. The pillar of Grace and the shaking, all that? That was all me."
The next few seconds were delicious.
First, a ring of silence spread, like someone had cast a sound-dampening spell around him. Then, as the meaning of his words rippled outward through the packed hall, it detonated.
"What?!"
"He killed a Demigod?"
"Godrick is DEAD?!"
People further away who'd missed the initial proclamation leaned toward those closer; his words were repeated, mutated, spread. The phrase "Johnathan killed Godrick" echoed like a chant, shock and disbelief giving way, here and there, to something like glee.
Roderika's eyes went wide as saucers. "You… you really…?"
"Fascinating…" Corhyn breathed, thumbing his prayer beads so fast they blurred. "A new Shardbearer, bound by Grace and yet walking his own path…"
Patches' smirk faltered for once.
"...Huh…" He muttered slowly, eyeing John up and down. "Guess I ought to start charging you more for my services."
John clapped him lightly on the shoulder, clenching it a little harder than necessary until he felt Patches flinch. "You can try, Bald Prick..."
He straightened and flashed the room at large with a theatrical bow.
"Please remember to like, comment, and subscribe! I'll be here all era!"
The hall devolved into chaos again, this time more energized. Arguments sparked instantly over whether it was even possible, voices rising and falling.
John's stomach growled. "All right, fame later. Food now."
They found an open table toward the far end of the mess hall. It was one of the long, rough-hewn ones that had clearly been dragged in to deal with the overflow.
Solaire happily sat, and introduced himself to the others. Millicent plopped down across from him, kicking one foot up onto the bench. Melina took the spot at John's right, her cloak now on his shoulders, ears still a little pink from earlier flustering.
Platters materialized on their table soon after.
Roundtable Hold's kitchen had apparently gone into overdrive; bowls of thick stew, hunks of bread, roasted meat, and jugs of something that smelled like spiced wine began circulating. Someone shoved a plate into John's hands almost on autopilot, not that he was complaining.
"So this is a place where warriors gather between journeys." Solaire said between bites, looking around with deep satisfaction. He somehow managed to eat from beneath his circular helmet's edge, something that John tried to not think about too hard.
"Truly, it is like Firelink, and yet… not. I can feel the hum of this… Grace beneath the stones here."
"That hum turned into a scream a little while ago." Millicent remarked, chewing. "Gonna have every psycho with delusions of grandeur making their way to Limgrave now that they know there's a new target."
"Let them come." John said around a mouthful. "We've got loot to farm and runes to get. How else are we gonna fund 3 castles?"
Melina elbowed him lightly. "You say that now. Just remember you are not allowed to die recklessly."
He gave her an innocent look. "I don't die recklessly. I almost died very responsibly in the line of bullying Godrick."
She gave him a flat stare that made it obvious she was not impressed.
They let the noise of the hall wash over them for a while.
Until the atmosphere shifted slowly as conversations tapered off. Chairs scraped and people instinctively straightened. The low hum of a hundred overlapping voices dropped towards a hush.
John felt it before he saw the cause: that faint, particular tension he'd already come to associate with one specific asshole.
He looked up.
Gideon Ofnir, the All-Knowing, stood in the wide archway leading into the mess hall.
John saw his right hand tighten around the grip of his cane when their gazes met, just for a heartbeat.
Gideon started walking forward, each tap of his cane on stone audible in the burgeoning silence.
Around him, Tarnished edged back, clearing a path. No one wanted to be in the way when the Roundtable's unspoken leader was clearly on the warpath, or at least the war-lecture.
At John's table, Melina's and Millicent's shoulders tensed.
They remembered John's first day here. The way he'd brushed off Gideon's condescension and especially the way Gideon had bristled at being disregarded.
Gideon came to a stop directly in front of their table and for a moment, he just stood there.
There was a distinct expectation in the way he held himself, chin tilted, shoulders squared. The kind of expectation that implied that he wanted them to stand up at attention for him.
John did not stand, he just leaned back slightly on the bench instead, one arm draped casually along the backrest, the corner of his mouth curling in a small, self-satisfied smirk.
He didn't say anything, he just held Gideon's unseen gaze and let the silence stretch smugly.
Something tight twitched at the corner of Gideon's mouth.
Whatever he wanted to say. The reprimand, the lecture, the dig about 'upstart Tarnished' and 'reckless children', John could almost see him swallow it back like bitter medicine.
When he spoke, his voice was clipped, each word carefully measured.
"As much as I loathe to say this. I am bound to convey it nonetheless." Gideon ground out as he lifted his chin a fraction.
"The Two Fingers are calling for you. You are to seek an audience with them. Immediately."
------------------
Author's Note:
Stones, please.
Okay, so the chapter is at 8k words and was gonna end up at like 16k if I let it. So I'm gonna cut it in half and the smut is in the next chapter.
…
Next Chapter Title: I Met You And My Eyes Changed.
…
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