Chapter no.84 The Dragon, The Giant and The Angel (Patreon)

Seigmeyer sat at the ponticulus of Sen's Fortress, where moss crept along the stones and the wind sighed through broken battlements. The steel curves of his armor clinked gently as he shifted, a rhythmic echo of solitude. The gates loomed ahead, still stubborn, still sealed. The knight tilted his head and let out a long, familiar hum.

"Still closed... still closed…"

He had lost count of how many days he had waited here. But he was in no rush. He never was. Patience was its own form of bravery, he had once told a child.

Then came the sound of footsteps; light, quick, almost joyful. They did not carry the weight of iron-clad menace nor the silence of skulking thieves. No, this rhythm was different.

A smile warmed his face beneath the domed helm.

"Ah… Naruto," Seigmeyer murmured. That boy.

The youth reminded him of days long passed, of times when a tiny hand would tug on his gauntlet and a curious voice would ask about dragons and knights and what it meant to be brave. Lin, his daughter. How she had grown, no doubt a fine warrior now but something about Naruto stirred that memory more vividly than time should allow.

The golden-haired clone stopped a short distance away, cradling a small creature in his arms: a crystal lizard, its scales glittering like captured moonlight.

"Come to tell me the results of your spar?"

"Somewhat," the clone replied with a smile. "I'm not the original. Just a shadow clone sent to deliver this little lady to Firelink Shrine. I thought it might keep the Firekeeper Anastasia company."

Seigmeyer chuckled softly. "That is a thoughtful gesture. I see you've found some peace with yourself."

Naruto gave a brief recounting of the duel with Kakashi, of the uncertainty he had faced, and how something in him had settled. He spoke softly, respectfully. And Seigmeyer listened.

When the tale was told, the clone tilted his head. "I've been wondering… if you knew I had things on my mind, why didn't you come and talk to me?"

Seigmeyer leaned back, letting the breeze stir the grass beneath his boots. "Mmm… that's because I wanted you to find your own answers. I may be a very wise knight... ho ho! but some answers, you see, must be earned."

Naruto looked at him curiously.

"If you had asked me, I would have helped, gladly," Seigmeyer said. "But I am not the sort who points to the road and says, 'Walk that way.' I believe the paths we discover ourselves are the ones we walk with the greatest certainty."

The clone nodded slowly, digesting the thought. "Still makes me wonder," he said at last, "what might've happened if I had come to you and Andre instead of confronting the Undead Merchant in my anger. Things might've gone differently."

"Ah, yes," Seigmeyer mused. "My answer would have been different from the one you found. But would it have been better? I do not know. What matters is this: you chose. And that makes your answer yours."

Silence passed between them, the comfortable silence of understanding.

"Well then, Sensei," Naruto said at last. "I should go. My original is in the Darkroot Basin, if you need anything."

Seigmeyer gave a nod, slow and thoughtful. "Take care, my friend."

The clone turned, vanishing into the mist beyond the fortress bridge. Seigmeyer watched him leave until even the faintest sound of footfall faded.

Then he leaned back with a sigh and returned to his vigil. The wind stirred again.

"Still closed…" he said, and smiled.

A few minutes had passed since Naruto's clone had departed, and Seigmeyer of Catarina had begun to drift into a light doze. The wind whispered across the bridge of Sen's Fortress, rustling the vines that crawled over ancient stone. Sleep came easily to him these days, lulled by patience and routine.

Then, a roar shattered the sky.

The sound did not echo. It consumed. It tore across the heavens like a blade drawn through thunderclouds. It made the earth groan and the bones beneath it tremble.

Seigmeyer jolted upright, his instincts fully awakened. Even before his mind could name the sensation, his gauntleted hand had already found the hilt of his Zweihander. His heart, steady in the face of most danger, now pounded with urgency.

That was not the cry of a wyvern or drake.

It was the roar of an everlasting dragon.

No, Seigmeyer whispered.

He moved in an instant. There was no hesitation, no second thought. He rose with surprising speed for one so heavily armored, crossing the bridge with thunderous steps, descending the long stone stairs into the old church that housed the smith. Each step echoed like a drumbeat, punctuated by purpose.

He halted at the entrance to the Darkroot Garden. Andre stood at the threshold, arms crossed, expression grim beneath soot-streaked brows.

Seigmeyer exhaled sharply. "Has Naruto returned?"

"No. His original body is still in the basin… with the dragon."

Seigmeyer clenched his jaw and stepped forward, but Andre held up a hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I am going down into the basin," Seigmeyer replied. "If Naruto is still alive, I will buy him time. He must take Oscar and flee."

Andre's brow furrowed. "Can you handle a dragon?"

"I have faced dragon-kin before," Seigmeyer said. "Never a true one. I cannot say I am confident. But Naruto is a knight. And a knight does not let another face death alone."

"You will die."

"I will return," Seigmeyer answered firmly. "That is the curse of the Undead. But Oscar will not. And if he dies down there… Naruto will carry that weight forever."

He turned, ready to enter the fog-veiled garden. His boot shifted, poised for motion.

Then the mist thickened.

It crept forward through the trees, slow and unnatural. The garden's edge became a wall of fog. At the same time, a soft glow shimmered from the carved crest of Artorias, resting in Andre's hand. The light deepened until it cast long shadows across the stonework.

And from that light, a form emerged.

It moved like smoke, fur woven from mist itself. The shape was feline, sleek and ancient, her presence commanding. Eyes gleamed from within the fog—clever, knowing, and old beyond reckoning.

Seigmeyer's grip on his weapon tightened.

"Halt, knight of Catarina," the cat spoke, her voice low and lyrical. "Thou dost tread toward doom. Turn thy course. That path hath been sealed."

Seigmeyer blinked behind his helm.

"Mmm… hrmmm? And by whom am I so warned?"

"I am Alvina, of the Darkroot Wood," she answered. "Matron of the Forest Hunters. I speak for the Greatwolf Sif."

The name made him pause.

"Greatwolf Sif…" he repeated slowly. "Mmm… that is not a name one hears lightly."

"Under his command, the basin hath been sealed," Alvina continued. "The dragon below stirs echoes long forgotten. I have placed wards and woven barriers to stay the hands of fools and martyrs."

Seigmeyer took a step forward.

"And what of Naruto?" he asked. "A boy; no, a fellow knight. Brave, yes. Reckless, certainly. But kind. If any soul could have awakened that dragon, it would be him."

Alvina's tail flicked like drifting mist.

"I have seen no boy near the knight," she said. "If thy Naruto ventured there, then he hath surely perished."

Seigmeyer stood motionless. He did not deny it. But he did not speak. He only breathed, heavy and slow. Then, after a moment of silence, he stepped back.

Alvina's form faded, dissolving into the soft glow of the crest. The light dimmed, retreating into Andre's hand like a tide drawn back to sea.

Andre spoke first. "Looks like Naruto was killed by that dragon."

Seigmeyer lowered himself to the ground, the weight of his armor settling into the earth.

"Mmm… hrmm… that would explain it," he muttered. Then he chuckled, weary and thoughtful. "He's likely back in that strange world of his. Chasing some new madness. Or licking his wounds."

"He'll be back," Andre said quietly.

Seigmeyer gave a slow nod. "That much is true."

And so the knight of Catarina sat, once again, at the edge of a path he could not take. He watched the trees sway in the mist, and he waited. Waited for a boy to return from the jaws of a dragon.

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

In the Valley of Drakes, the air shimmered faintly with static, a warning felt more than heard. The drakes grew restless. Their wings twitched. Their talons scraped stone. One by one, they lifted their snouts to the heavens and stilled, silent beneath the weight of a superior presence.

An Everlasting Dragon had been born.

Across the valley, lightning flickered behind storm clouds, and a roar broke the silence; not of submission, but defiance.

Stormrend Wyvern reared back and bellowed a challenge that shook the high cliffs and echoed down the caverns like thunder given voice. Where his kin bowed their heads to the ancient call, Stormrend rejected it with fury. His wings unfurled wide enough to blot out the sky, his scales bristling like sharpened steel.

He was the king of the skies.

If the everlasting dragon sought his throne, then let it come and take it.

Stormrend wasn't going down without a fight.

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

Far below, in the poisoned depths of Blighttown, where light rarely touched and the air clung thick with decay, a flicker stirred beneath the muck and rot.

Hidden away from the world, deep within a ruined alcove, the Mother of Pyromancy opened her eyes.

Quelana of Izalith sat in silence among the filth and the insects, her face unreadable as she felt the eruption of chaos above. The energy bloomed briefly, sharp and chaotic, and then vanished, swallowed by something far older.

The dragon's presence was unmistakable, yet Quelana merely blinked. It was not her concern.

For years she had waited here, searching for one with humanity intact. A lone Undead. A bearer of warmth. A vessel worthy enough to send to her sisters lost to madness.

Whatever chaos stirred above, it would burn itself out in time.

Still, if she had chosen to rise... if she had stepped from the shadows and looked to the surface... she might have found the boy sooner. The boy who would change her life.

But that was a tale for another time.

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

In the city of gods, beneath the broken sun and the silence of Anor Londo's great halls, the Tomb of Gwyn stood in solemn majesty. Its stone walls reached high like the ribs of a buried cathedral, dark and cold. The floor was smooth and glistening, as if polished by centuries of grief.

A single figure sat at the far end of a long, empty table.

He was tall and thin, draped in flowing robes that pooled around his chair like shadows stretched by moonlight. A strange, gold crown rose from his helmet, its narrow tips curved like horns. Chains of gold hung from his shoulders, motionless, silent. No breeze dared stir them.

This was Gwyndolin, the last god of Anor Londo. The Darkmoon, hidden and watching.

A staff lay upon the stone table before him, centered with reverent precision. It was not held. It had not been moved. It rested like an offering to something unseen. Cold blue light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting strange patterns across the chamber. It was beautiful. And it was lifeless.

The air itself resisted motion.

Then, his head shifted slightly. Though his face remained hidden beneath his veil and crown, he felt it like a breath on the back of the neck.

The presence of the Everlasting Dragon.

Gwyndolin extended his perception, reaching beyond the veil of the mortal realm. He gazed upon the moon, using it to peer across the broken lands of Lordran. But the view was clouded. Interference crackled through his vision. Someone, somewhere, was hiding the dragon from his gaze.

Another god, or perhaps something worse.

Gwyndolin's attention shifted, narrowing to a cold, towering keep of pale stone and hidden knowledge.

The Duke's Archives.

Seath the Scaleless.

Gwyndolin's fingers twitched slightly, his voice a whisper swallowed by the silence. "What wilt thou do, Seath, when thine own kind riseth anew?"

The chamber remained still. The staff upon the table gleamed faintly. The moonlight did not answer. But the world had changed.

And Gwyndolin knew.

The everlasting dragons were not as dead as they had believed.

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

Havel landed heavily on the basin floor, stone cracking beneath his boots. Above his head, a glowing red sigil shaped like an eye pulsed into existence. He had been marked by Calamity. It meant that every wound he suffered now would be twice as painful, every strike doubly lethal.

Before him, Naruto stood or rather, writhed, in his new draconic form. His body flowed like liquid muscle, twisting and coiling with unnatural grace. Twin jaws snapped open and shut as he spat arcs of fire into the air.

Havel dodged them all.

Each fireball exploded where he had just stood, but the titan rolled, weaved, and marched forward. His focus never wavered. He knew Naruto was faster. He knew his enemy could fly, twist, and burn the air. But Havel had fists. And faith, even in his madness.

Naruto lunged like a serpent. His elongated body struck in a blur, tail snapping through the air. One clawed hand swiped low, and the other came from above, trying to trap Havel in a crushing pincer.

Havel ducked under the top claw, letting the bottom strike skim his skin. Sparks flew. Then he answered.

With a roar, he planted his feet and drove a punch into Naruto's gut. The force of it sent a shockwave rippling through the dragon's body. Naruto recoiled, but only for a moment. His tail whipped around, slamming into Havel's side like a massive flail. The knight stumbled.

Naruto pressed the advantage. He moved like a blur, weaving through the trees, body wrapping around boulders and snapping forward again. He grabbed Havel's shoulder and slammed the knight into the dirt, shaking the earth. A second later, Havel's foot came up, kicking Naruto in the snout and forcing him back.

Then the real brawl began.

Naruto, though stripped of his human mind, was still cunning. He channeled wind chakra into his claws. The chakra vibrated at high frequency, giving the claws a cutting edge that shimmered in the light. With a blur, Naruto swiped.

Havel rolled forward, using the I-frames to phase through the attack. He rose from the roll and struck upward with a punch to Naruto's neck. The impact shook the entire basin. Trees trembled, water rippled, and dust erupted around them.

The dragon's fiery mane shifted color. No longer red and wild, it turned pale white like divine fire. A radiant shockwave burst out as Naruto triggered a Force miracle. The dome of white energy exploded outward, slamming into Havel and forcing him back several paces, carving deep scars into the stone underfoot.

Naruto charged, expecting his miracle to leave Havel stunned. But even in his half-mad state, Havel remained a tactician. He let the dragon believe he was stunned. He baited him.

Naruto lunged again with his claws. Havel rolled to the side, dodging with precision, and then surged forward. He rammed his massive body into Naruto's side. The impact flipped the hundred-foot-long dragon onto his back.

With a roar, Havel leaped onto the dragon's chest. His hand, shaped like a blade, drove straight down. The false scales covering Naruto's body were imitations made of rock and chaos—offered no protection. Havel's strike tore through them with ease. A geyser of blood erupted from the wound. But before Havel could finish the strike, Naruto's body was suddenly swallowed by light.

In a flash, he teleported high into the air using the Homeward miracle.

Far above the battlefield, the sky shimmered with divine energy. Rings of gold circled his draconic form, spiraling outward as glowing lines of soft yellow light wrapped around him. Suspended in the air like a fallen angel, Naruto cast the Heal miracle. His wounds mended, scorched flesh knitting together beneath the sacred light as the sky held its breath.

Then the fire on his mane turned blue, glowing like the magical flames of Vinheim.

Naruto opened his twin jaws. From deep within, power gathered. A beam of blue energy shot forth.

A focused magic laser that cut across the basin.

As Naruto moved his head, the laser carved through the landscape. It stretched upward, striking the sky where thick clouds blanketed the heavens. The beam cut through them. A long trench of light formed across the sky. Clouds boiled away, peeled back like layers of cloth. For a moment, the heavens split open. A single line of blue fire divided the dark sky, a wound in the firmament.

Havel watched in silence as the sky split open.

Naruto pulled back, preparing for another breath. The energy gathered in his jaws, a second laser ready to fire. Havel ran forward, rolling and dodging the incoming beam. Sparks and stone burst from the earth with every near miss.

He reached the bank of the lake and launched himself upward, aiming to catch Naruto mid-air.

A flying dragon was far more dangerous than one grounded. Havel knew this. But he also knew that if he let Naruto stay in the sky, he would lose.

Naruto spotted him. The dragon's slit eyes widened into ovals, sharp and focused like a hawk spotting prey. With a wide flap of his wings, Naruto summoned a gust of wind that shoved Havel downward. Then the dragon soared higher.

Clap.

The sound cracked across the valley as Havel clapped his hands together, creating a shockwave that propelled him even higher into the air. He grabbed hold of Naruto's tail mid-air. With a roar, he spun the dragon like a hammer and slammed him into the river below.

The impact was devastating.

The water exploded outward in a blinding burst, steam and force surging like a bomb had gone off. Trees were ripped from their roots. The earth quaked. Stone and mud flew in every direction. The lake was no longer a lake, only a crater of boiling mist. Cracks spread across Naruto's body. His scales shimmered but began to break. In pain, the dragon lashed out, slashing his claws forward. Arcs of wind chakra shaped like blades cut through the air and struck Havel point-blank. The knight was thrown back, skidding across broken stone.

Blood ran down his side. He stood slowly, catching his breath.

Naruto did not pause. He slammed both arms into the ground. The earth responded with violence. Chunks of stone, dirt, and shattered terrain launched into the air toward Havel.

Havel rolled again, using the brief invincibility of movement to slip through the barrage.

Naruto's third eye began to glow. The flying rocks paused mid-air, caught in a web of telekinesis. They hovered for a moment, then clumped together, forming massive boulders. With a pull of his will, Naruto drew them into a tight ring, preparing to strike again.

Havel saw his chance. He ran forward and leapt, ready to hit the dragon head-on.

But Naruto vanished.

In a blink of light, the dragon teleported away. The telekinesis broke. The massive boulders, still moving from their momentum, flew forward and hit Havel.

The knight was buried beneath the stone. But only for a moment. He roared and threw the rocks off his back. Dust and dirt flew into the air. He looked up.

Naruto floated above, wings spread wide. Behind him, orbs of white light hovered in the air.

One. Then two. Then six.

The glowing spheres pulsed, then shot downward like comets. Havel did not flinch. He walked calmly to the side. The comets exploded behind him one by one, lighting up the basin in bursts of white shockwaves.

The dragon roared.

Naruto dove.

His massive form crashed into the ground like a falling star. The shockwave destroyed the remnants of the lake, shattered the waterfall, and carved out the path toward the mountain. Everything behind him was rubble.

Havel dodged again. Another perfect roll.

But Naruto was ready.

Blue fire surged through his mane. His jaws opened. A spiraling laser of magic and flame surged forward, cutting through the destruction, aimed directly at Havel.

Havel was consumed by the beam of magic.

The spiraling laser crashed into him with the roar of a storm. Blue fire and light wrapped around his body, swallowing his form in brilliance and force. To any observer, it would seem as if the titan had been erased.

But then, through the beam, he walked.

Havel pushed forward, his steps slow but unstoppable. Stones forming on his skin—the Magic Barrier miracle, pulsing with every wave of the magical assault. Sparks danced across his stone armor. The light refracted in sharp angles, making him look like a knight carved from the stars. His silhouette marched through the fire like a god of war.

As he closed the distance, his arm shot forward.

The punch hit Naruto with a brutal crack. The dragon staggered, caught off guard by the sheer force. It was like being struck by a falling mountain.

Havel followed up immediately. With a roar, he leapt and drove his hand into one of Naruto's eyes.

The flesh gave way.

His arm pierced deep, sinking in up to the elbow. Blood poured from the wound, hissing against Havel's skin. Fire and chakra seared his body. Naruto shrieked, his voice a thunderclap of rage and pain. The knight kept pressing in, trying to destroy whatever lay behind the eye—brain, nerve, core.

But the dragon did not fall.

Naruto's third eye flared with power. A sudden force wrapped around Havel's arm, freezing it in place. The dragon's telekinesis had caught him, holding him inside the socket like a trap.

Havel growled and pulled, but his arm would not budge.

Naruto's horns began to glow white. Within his chest, power surged. Magic and chakra twisted together, unstable and furious. His entire body became a container for a growing explosion.

Even in this mindless, half-conscious state, the dragon remembered one thing clearly.

Oscar must be protected.

He could not win. But he could stop Havel.

Havel sensed what was coming. In a final act of will, he clenched his jaw and tore his own arm free—ripping it off at the elbow. His severed limb remained lodged in Naruto's eye, sparking and steaming.

He turned to flee.

But a flash of blue light struck him from the side.

From the top of the old watchtower, Oscar had fired a desperate shot.

The spell hit Havel with the force of a collapsing star. He stumbled, the blast locking his body in place for a second.

That second was enough.

Naruto exploded.

A dome of white expanded outward, erasing everything it touched. The remaining lake vanished. The earth dissolved. Mountainside cracked and collapsed. The sky lit up like dawn, and all was swallowed in blinding light. The Darkroot Basin was gone.

And then it was over.

Ash fell like snow. The smoke coiled in silence. Where once there had been water and stone and forest, now only a giant hole remained. High on the crumbling watchtower, Oscar clung to the stone, his arms trembling.

Did Havel survive?

Did Naruto win?

Oscar did not know. But he waited. And he watched, wondering what it would mean for them now... what it would mean for his partner to walk the world, not as a boy, but as an Everlasting Dragon.

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

Caw.

Caw.

Caw.

Hundreds of crows began to drop from the sky, falling like dark rain through the thick fog. Their bodies struck the earth with sickening thuds. Feathers scattered in the air. Their broken wings twitched. Entrails spilled across the scorched ground, blood soaking into the stone.

Oscar took a step back.

The dead birds began to move.

Their bones shifted and cracked, pulled together by some unseen force. Entrails slithered like threads. The corpses merged, folding into a single shape. A tall woman formed from the remains, her hooded figure rising out of feathers, blood, and bone. Her presence made the air feel colder.

Oscar's breath caught in his throat.

Velka, the goddess of sin, stood before him. Her body was cloaked in shadows, but her form was unmistakable. She raised her hand, and from the massive crater nearby, a claw made entirely from crow bones emerged. It reached down into the basin and gently lifted Havel from the rubble.

Havel's body was broken. Though he had clearly won his battle with Naruto, he looked far from victorious. Pieces of his armor had shattered. His movements were slow. And deep within him, something was wrong.

Velka's voice was calm and cold. "So, you've come back to your senses."

"Aye," Havel replied with a tired smile. "And methinks much hath changed for thee."

"Yeah, well… after the plot against the gods, I had to deal with my church being destroyed, my title stripped, and every divine blade pointed at my back. So yes, things have changed."

"Nay," Havel said, tilting his head. "I speak not of thy downfall. I speak of thy tongue. 'Tis modern now, like the rabble."

Velka gave a short, amused snort. "What can I say? I had to adapt."

"Ha," Havel grinned. "Hast thou grown a heart then? Come to bid farewell to an old friend?"

Despite the humor, pain laced his words. Naruto's final attack had done more than scar his body. His soul had been struck. A curse had taken root... crystallized magic forming within his soul, like glass growing through his bones.

"I can freeze you in time," Velka said softly. "Buy you time to find a cure."

"Thou needn't bother," Havel replied. "I am content. This battle pleased me well. Let me pass as I lived: beneath sky and upon the dirt, and with purpose in mine heart."

They stood in silence, facing the basin's broken remains.

From the crater's heart, beneath shattered stones and drowned bones, something began to rise. A pale green glow pulsed in the darkness. The light grew brighter, flickering like breath.

A soul had survived.

Velka and Havel watched.

"He's not of this world," Velka murmured. Her shadow writhed beneath her robes like slow smoke. "I suspected as much."

"Oh?"

"The boy," Velka continued, her gaze never leaving the soul, "he was using my Ring of Sacrifice. Over and over. I felt it. Its loss. Its return. That shouldn't be possible. But now I see… he wasn't fully here. Not entirely."

She gestured to the glowing essence above the crater.

"Since the moment he arrived, he's been moving between Lordran and another realm. He doesn't belong to either but exists in both."

Havel chuckled low, the sound like stone grinding against stone. "An undead… everlasting dragon… from another world. By the gods, how fearsome is that?"

He closed his eyes.

"'Tis poetry," he said. "The gods feared three things: the dragons, the undead, and the unknown strength of man. And lo… before us stands a soul who is all three."

Velka nodded slowly. "A threat… or a salvation. That will depend on the path he chooses next."

"I think thou art mistaken," Havel said, his voice rough but steady.

Velka turned her hooded gaze toward him.

"The boy hath walked a path not his own," Havel continued, "one paved in thorns and fire, only to shield a friend. Salvation and destruction… I reckon he seeketh neither. Unless the world, or those within it, steer him thus."

Velka gave a quiet breath of a laugh. "Let's not start one of those old arguments, Havel. You'll lose, like always, especially in your final hour."

"Aye," Havel said with a faint grin. "Indeed."

He shifted slightly, the crystals growing on his arms now creeping over his chest. "Might I ask thee a boon, my old friend?"

"Of course. I owe you more than I can name," Velka said, her voice gentle now.

"Mark that crystal lizard with the Darksign."

Velka raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I would repay that knight," Havel said. "He didst unshackle me… and granted unto me the battle of a lifetime. Had our paths crossed in gentler days, I wouldst have known the boy behind the wyrm. Yet alas, the fates were not so kind. Thou knowest what I mean."

Velka's tone turned cold and practical. "Lordran, and whatever realm he's from, can't handle a hollowed everlasting dragon."

"Ever pragmatic, thou art," Havel murmured, a bittersweet smile upon his lips. "But mine intent is not born of dread. Nay, let it be writ that I owed him this. I would not see the lad tread the sorrowed path I once did… when I lost my beloved wife."

Crystals had begun to creep along his back and shoulders, pulsing with a faint, unearthly light.

"I beg thee… watch over mine daughter. Guard her well—my sweet Rhea."

A heavy silence passed between them.

Velka at last answered, "You have my word."

"One final entreaty," Havel said. "Use not that dragon to smite the gods."

Velka blinked. "Didn't you hate them?"

"Aye, I do," Havel replied. "Yet I would not drag others into mine quarrel. That boy… he was willing to forfeit all for the sake of his comrade. This battle is not his. Let not his flame be wielded as a blade by hands not his own."

Velka sighed, shoulders heavy beneath her robes. "You really are a simple brute. A true knight if I've ever seen one. But with Gwyndolin manipulating the undead to ignite the First Flame, with the serpents worshipping the dark, the witches of chaos moving with their own goals, and the old Lords clinging to their thrones… I don't think that dragon can stay uninvolved. Not unless he leaves Lordran behind completely. And from what I've seen, he's not the type to walk away."

"Then sorrow awaiteth him," Havel said softly.

"If it brings you peace," Velka said, "I'll make sure he's ready for what's coming."

Havel smiled again, a tired but fulfilled one. "I knew I could count on thee… my dearest friend."

The crystal overtook his chest, then his face. His fingers, once wrapped around the haft of many a weapon, finally relaxed.

"Farewell," he said.

And with that final word, Havel, Rock of the Church, the unbending wall of Lordran, was no more.

The crystals sealed him completely, and then, with a gust of wind, his form broke apart—turning into glittering dust that scattered across the scorched basin like stars returning to the sky.

The stone upon which he stood cracked, then shattered. But what remained was not ruin.

What remained was legacy.

A knight who defied gods.

A warrior who stood against dragons.

A friend who made peace at the end.

And a father, remembered not in moments, but in promise.

And as the dust rose to the heavens, Velka whispered a quiet prayer—not to any god, but to the man who stood his ground until the very end. "Rest well, old brute. Your war is over."

Velka gave herself a moment to mourn. Then, with a quiet breath, she raised her hand.

Oscar, who had been inching away; hoping to slip out unnoticed, froze mid-step, locked in time by her will. She pulled the time-bubble toward her, placing her hand on the lizard's stomach. Her fingers brushed over the strange material embedded within. Chakra and chakra metal, foreign to Lordran's rules. But there was no time to investigate further.

She raised her hand again.

Embers began to rise like fireflies, dancing in slow spirals around her fingers. They swirled above Oscar's body, forming a circle. The air turned thick, heavy with divine authority. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Velka pressed her palm against his soul.

The Darksign bloomed.

A ring of smoldering flame, surrounding a hollow black center, burned itself into Oscar's core. His body arched, and a silent scream twisted across his face before he finally passed out, overwhelmed by pain.

"Now that the brand is done," she murmured, "you're going to have to absorb all that soul and grow stronger… if you truly wish to walk beside that dragon."

With a flick of her wrist, she hurled Oscar into the floating soul-drop of Naruto. The crystal lizard vanished into the swirling light.

Velka turned.

"Now then… let's deal with our uninvited guests."

She looked toward the waterfall.

Sif stood there.

Sif was a being every god in Lordran respected, not only as the loyal companion of the legendary knight Artorias, but also for his strength especially after he and the flash from Konoha defeated the Abyss that had consumed Oolacile.

Even Velka knew better than to fight Sif and expect to walk away without suffering for a century.

Thankfully, she was only here as an avatar.

She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding as Sif turned and padded silently back into the forest.

Above them, the fog began to recede.

Alvina's barrier was lifting, the moonlight pouring down again.

But the moon… had changed. Its center now bore an eye.

Velka narrowed her gaze. "Dear Gwyndolin… still peeping where you shouldn't."

The words had barely left her lips when a spear of light lanced through her skull, shot clean through by the Moonlight God himself.

Velka's avatar reformed. Without wasting a moment, she turned and fled the basin.

Behind her, the attention of Seath and Gwyndolin surged, their focus now fully on hunting down the heretical god who had slipped through their grasp. It was exactly as Velka intended. She had drawn their eyes elsewhere, away from Naruto and Oscar.

As she vanished into the veil between realms, she made certain to erase every trace, every lingering thread of energy, every mark that could link Seath and Gwyndolin to Naruto.

No one would find him. Not yet.

Her whisper echoed faintly through the night sky: "Get ready, boy. Your life is only going to get harder from here. Knight. Dragon. Sorcerer. Cleric. Whatever you think you are… you are a struggler."

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

The alleyway of the Lower Undead Burg was strewn with still bodies, twisted in death remnants of hollow assassins whose ambush had failed.

Vince stood among them, his spiked mace lowered, its head still faintly steaming from the kill. His dark armor bore fresh scrapes, but the man beneath remained unshaken grounded, still, like a fortress that had withstood a storm.

Nico stepped forward silently, his own shield raised as if expecting another attack. He didn't speak. He rarely did. His gaze swept the shadows, always searching, always cautious.

"Rhea," Vince said calmly. "We're done with these things."

But Rhea wasn't listening.

She stood apart from them, just beyond the nearest corpse, her eyes unfocused… staring somewhere far beyond the confines of the Burg. A single tear traced the curve of her cheek, glistening in the dim firelight.

"Is something wrong?"

Rhea blinked and shook her head quickly, brushing the tear away. "No… I just…" She hesitated, her lips parting, but the words didn't come.

Her hand moved unconsciously to her chest. She didn't know why… but it felt as though she had just lost someone important. Someone who mattered.

And for a moment, the world seemed quieter than it should've been.

As if mourning a knight whose duty had finally, finally ended.

"I'm sorry. It was nothing," she whispered. "Let us return to Firelink Shrine."

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

[Mount Myōboku]

The sun lazily peeked over the horizon of Mount Myōboku, casting warm gold across the dew-laced leaves and still ponds. A gentle wind rustled the massive tree branches, sending faint ripples through the lakes where giant toads rested like statues of old gods. Somewhere between the quiet croaks and distant waterfalls, an all-too-familiar sound broke the calm.

"Heh… Her hips twisted like a whirlpool jutsu… yeah, that's the line! Classic."

Jiraiya grinned as he sprawled across the tiled roof of one of the higher shrines, pen in hand, brush swiping across parchment. His wild white hair glowed in the morning light, tied back loosely as always, though the wrinkles around his mouth betrayed years of laughter and battle alike.

That peace shattered instantly.

WHACK!

A bamboo cane struck the back of his head with the force of a righteous god.

"OW! Dammit, Pa!" Jiraiya clutched his skull, rolling off the roof and landing in an undignified heap. "There are other ways to catch my attention, y'know!"

Fukasaku stood firm, cane still raised, his white mohawk bristling with irritation. "Ain't got time for your usual foolishness, ya pervy hermit! The Great Toad Sage's summoned ya. Right now."

"Now?" Jiraiya dusted himself off, blinking. "You couldn't let me finish the climax first?"

"The only climax you need to worry about is the end of the world if you keep slackin' off," Fukasaku shot back, already turning. "C'mon!"

The joking air around Jiraiya thinned. His smile faded. When the Great Toad Sage called, he listened.

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

[The Great Hall of Mount Myōboku]

They arrived in a quiet rush, flickering past lily-covered ponds and moss-laden trees, until at last they stood beneath the towering arc of the ancient chamber. Within sat the Great Toad Sage, Gamamaru; a mountain of wisdom and wrinkles, breathing slow and deep, like the wind itself. He squinted down at them with his usual vague smile, looking somewhere between amused and profoundly lost.

"Jiraiya-boy," he said slowly. "Mmm… you're still alive."

"Tch. Barely, with Pa smacking me awake like that."

Fukasaku cleared his throat. "Don't be disrespectful! This is a sacred summon."

"Sacred? This sacred detour's cost me... weeks, Pa!" Jiraiya snapped, his irritation finally surfacing. "Old man Hiruzen sent me to check on Minato's kid, make sure the seal's holdin'. For all I know, Konoha's gone to hell while I've been stuck waitin' on frog tea and bugs!"

Gamamaru let out a low, amused chuckle. "Rrrrmmm… impatience is unbecoming of a sage, Jiraiya-boy. But you were always the squirmy one, weren't you?"

"Great Sage," Jiraiya stepped forward, suppressing his temper. "Please. Just tell me the prophecy. If you saw something, I need to know."

Gamamaru blinked once. Then again. A long pause followed. "…What prophecy?"

Jiraiya and Fukasaku both deflated at once.

"He's forgotten again," Fukasaku sighed, dragging a hand down his green face.

"Of course he has," Jiraiya muttered.

Gamamaru gave a slow blink, like waking from a long nap. "Ah… yes… I remember now."

His smile faded slightly.

"In time, you will have a student of your own. That student will become a ninja that will bring great change to the world of shinobi. A change of either great stability… or great destruction. The kind the world has never seen."

Jiraiya's jaw clenched. "You said I'd be the one to guide that revolutionary. And that someday, I'd be forced to make a choice… a choice that would decide what kind of world we'd leave behind."

Gamamaru nodded slowly. "I looked at the threads of the future, and at the time… that was the most radiant one. It shone so brightly, I feared looking too close might blind me. But remember, Jiraiya, it is just one possibility in the river of time."

Fukasaku remained silent beside them, a hand on his cane, his face unusually grave.

Jiraiya looked down.

"I sacrificed a lot chasing that future," he said quietly. "More than I care to admit. I let people I loved slip away. All for that prophecy. If it could lead to peace… it was worth it."

A pause.

Then the Great Toad Sage sighed. "Well… I'm sorry to say this, Jiraiya-boy… but that thread now? It's dimming. Fading. The vision is growing hazier by the day. As if the world is shifting faster than even time can track."

Jiraiya's face didn't change, but Fukasaku could see it in his eyes. The way the light dimmed just a little more. "…I see."

"That's all, then?" he added, already turning.

But the old sage's voice stopped him. "No, Jiraiya-boy. There was another reason I asked Fukasaku to keep you here."

"More?"

Fukasaku stepped forward. "You mean... that wasn't just an excuse to keep him from rushing off?"

"Mmm…" Gamamaru murmured, his eyes narrowing. "As of late, I have been seeing… visions. But not just the kind we sages see when we slumber deep."

He leaned forward just a little, his voice growing fainter with effort.

"These visions… they're not mine."

Jiraiya's eyes widened.

"What do you mean they're not yours?"

"I am… receiving them," the Great Toad Sage said. "From another."

Even Fukasaku looked caught off guard now.

"Wait, what? Another sage? Are you saying someone's sending you prophetic visions from the future?"

Gamamaru gave a low, wheezing breath.

"Indeed… someone not older than I… but far greater in Senjutsu. In spiritual clarity. In sheer force of will. The energy is ancient, but not buried. Alive. Guiding. Not of this world, yet tied to it."

Fukasaku stared.

"You don't mean… the Sage of Six Paths?"

A long pause.

"…Maybe," Gamamaru said, his voice quiet, uncertain.

Jiraiya swallowed. "What did this future sage show you?"

The Great Toad Sage's body trembled slightly. His breath grew ragged. "I see… Konoha."

Jiraiya froze.

"In flames."

Fukasaku's hand clenched his cane tighter.

"A dragon… standing upon those flames," Gamamaru continued. "His wings stretch over your village, and in his three eyes... I see a pain deep enough to flood the earth."

He coughed, breath rattling.

"Elder, please... rest. That's enough," Fukasaku said, stepping forward in alarm.

Jiraiya stared ahead, eyes wide. "A dragon… attacking Konoha?"

No. Not a possibility. Not a vague warning like before. This wasn't a maybe. This was a warning from the future. The old sage exhaled deeply.

"One last thing, Jiraiya-boy… before I sleep again…"

His eyes, still squinting, now focused with unusual clarity.

"I hear words coming toward me. They echo from the threads of time, like a warning sent on the wind. Not a prophecy. Not a promise. But something to remember."

Jiraiya leaned closer, his voice low and solemn.

"I'm listening."

The old sage's voice dropped to a whisper.

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

[The Shikkotsu Forest]

The forest breathed.

Mist clung to every leaf and bough like mourning cloth, wrapping the vast trees in a hushed stillness. Mushrooms the size of rooftops pulsed softly with bioluminescent glow. It was a forest built on silence and time. The air reeked faintly of salt, sap, and something… unidentifiable.

Tsunade hated it.

She stood at the base of a pulsating white mound, arms crossed, scowl deeper than the grooves of the barkless trees above.

"Katsuyu!" she shouted into the stillness. "I swear, if this isn't life or death, I'm leaving. I could be drunk right now. Or broke. Or both."

A gentle squelch preceded the arrival of Katsuyu's avatar, her smaller form rising up beside Tsunade like a respectful ripple of the forest itself.

"Lady Tsunade," she said in that eternally calm voice, "the Elder has requested your presence at the Hall."

"Hall," Tsunade muttered. "Right. Slugs have halls now. Great. I should've stayed at the inn. Maybe I'd have hit a jackpot for once… or at least passed out without waking up in a swamp."

"This matter transcends fortune, my lady."

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "What doesn't?" she grumbled, but followed.

The Sage Hall was unlike any other structure on Earth if it could even be called a structure. It was not built, but grown.

A massive hollow formed from a coiled ring of slug flesh, glistening with sacred oils. Veins the size of tree trunks pulsed across its domed ceiling. Light filtered in from above through thin, translucent membranes that shimmered softly with chakra. The air was humid, heavy, and slow, like even the wind feared to disturb what slumbered here. And at the center lay the Original.

The First Katsuyu.

Enormous. Pale beyond white. Her skin was translucent in some places, revealing the slow ripple of fluids and the glimmer of internal energy. Dozens of thick, ribbon-like tentacles unfurled around her in meditation. Her eyes were closed. Her breath, if it came at all, was so slow it was measured in decades.

"Alright. I'm here. Now what? Missed weeks of good gambling for this."

A smaller Katsuyu slithered forward.

"Please, Lady Tsunade… place your hand upon the Elder's optic tentacle. She will share something with you. Something only you can receive."

"I already see nightmares every time I close my eyes. You want me to go poking around in another one?"

Still, she sighed and pressed her palm to the cool, glowing tissue. The chakra link took hold instantly.

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

Tsunade stood in darkness then, the world split open.

Flashes. Flickers. Visions not her own.

She saw fire. Cities ablaze. Shinobi falling like broken dolls.

Monsters descended from the sky on wings of smoke and shadow. Wyverns screamed across the skies, tearing through clouds and towers alike. Hulking demons, red-eyed and horned, surged through the gates of the Hidden Stone like a tidal wave of hate. One swung its blade, and the Raikage's tower split in half.

Tsunade watched in horror as she reached out, but the vision was already fading.

The light blinked out. The fire went silent. And Tsunade stood once more in stillness, breath heavy, heart racing. The vision came just as suddenly as it vanished, leaving behind only the weight of dread.

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

[Shikkotsu Forest – Sage Hall]

Tsunade was back.

Sweating. Trembling. Knees locked. Still gripping the optic tentacle. "What… what the hell was that?"

"That was a vision. Not from our Sage."

Tsunade turned sharply. "Then from who?"

It sounded neither man nor woman, neither old nor young. The voice of the slug sage. "This is a vision sent from the future..."

Tsunade staggered back, clutching her chest, as the world around her blurred with echoing words: "Hear now, Tsunade Senju. For what you have seen is not a dream. It is a warning."

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

[Ryūchi Cave]

The cave breathed.

Not like a place filled with air, but like a living thing. The walls pulsed faintly with warmth, the scales of massive serpents sliding across ancient stone echoing like whispers. Light was scarce, filtered through thick smoke and luminous fungi that clung to ceilings like barnacles. It smelled of musk, venom, and ancient power.

Orochimaru walked with a smile.

A dangerous one. He moved with the grace of someone who knew this place well... well enough to fear it, and well enough to know that fear could be turned into power.

"The sage will see you now," hissed one of the guards.

Orochimaru didn't nod.

The Chamber of the White Snake Sage was carved into the belly of the mountain; massive, coiled, and alive.

The White Snake Sage sat on her throne of herself, her body spiraled in perfect stillness, thick coils melding into the cavern floor like stone made flesh. Her eyes were slits of knowing. Her turban framed a red jewel that pulsed in rhythm with something older than time. Smoke curled from her long kiseru, its scent sweet and toxic.

"Orochimaru," she said, her voice slow, indulgent, a purr wrapped in poison. "Still possessing others like a worm in borrowed skin. How nostalgic."

"Ah, you wound me, Great Sage. I am merely rehearsing for eternity."

The Sage's nostrils flared faintly. "Eternity... such a juvenile fixation."

Smoke drifted between them.

"Then I presume this call isn't about old insults," Orochimaru said. "Why have I been summoned?"

The White Snake Sage inhaled deeply, then exhaled a ribbon of smoke that twisted into the shape of a dragon coiling through the air.

"Tell me," she asked, almost idly, "do you still remember the truth of what we snakes long for?"

"Ascension," Orochimaru answered. "To shed the skin of mortality. To rise beyond predator and prey. The snake becomes the dragon."

"A beautiful lie we tell ourselves," the Sage said, a faint chuckle curling in her throat. "But yes, the ambition is true. Every fang, every scale, every coil… twisted toward that one evolution."

She leaned forward slightly, and the whole chamber groaned under the weight of her presence.

"And yet… in all the years of our kind, not one has truly succeeded. Not truly. Pseudo-dragons. Mutations. Half-gods."

Orochimaru's eyes sharpened. "But something changed."

The White Snake Sage smiled.

"I have been receiving visions," the Sage said. "Glimpses not of what may come… but of what will. Sent by one from beyond the veil... beyond even my vision. Someone who walks through time like a skin to be shed."

Her words slowed as if spoken across centuries.

"They whisper of a Dragon God… one not born of this world, yet bound to it. And Ryūchi Cave will kneel before him, or vanish beneath his gaze."

The Sage's eyes flared.

"Orochimaru..." she continued, reverence and fear curling in her tone. "You will find him. You will serve him. And you will bring him here."

Orochimaru's smirk widened. "And what do I get in return?"

"I give you dominion over Ryūchi Cave. You will be the voice of my will. Manda shall obey your command, and my personal library—the hidden tomes of first flesh and perfected Senjutsu—shall be opened to you."

The air trembled with the weight of her gift.

Orochimaru was silent for a beat.

"A generous offer." He smiled, soft and slow. "And if I fail?"

The Sage did not blink. Her body quaked, and green Senjutsu chakra bloomed from her scales, bathing the chamber in a crushing pressure. Orochimaru's robes fluttered, but his eyes gleamed with delighted madness.

"Should you fail..." the Sage hissed, "Ryūchi Cave will name you a traitor. Every fang, every scale, every whisper in the dark will turn against you. You will be hunted, and swallowed whole."

Orochimaru bowed ever so slightly, more mockery than respect. "You have my cooperation. Your library alone is worth the task."

Despite the surge of killing intent flooding the chamber, chakra so ancient and venomous it could unravel the marrow of weaker men, Orochimaru merely smiled.

Don't worry, he thought, gaze cool and half-lidded beneath the shadow of the Sage's coiling form. Grant me access to your archives, your forbidden scrolls and decaying truths. That's all I need. With your library, I will refine my understanding of Senjutsu to a level you never conceived. And by the time I'm done... I'll have slithered past you, old snake. Quietly. Irrevocably.

The Sage's words, threats, promises—it was all noise beneath the growing tide of his curiosity. He was already tracing the pathways in his mind, mapping new experiments, projecting contingencies. The Ryūchi Cave would serve him, not the other way around.

As it always should have.

And this... Dragon God?

If it exists... if it is truly born in this era... Orochimaru's smile widened, a whisper of hunger behind his lips. Then perhaps I've found something even greater than the Uchiha. A vessel worth more than the blood of Sharingan. A body of god. My final step.

But then the Sage's voice slithered back in. "Answer me, Orochimaru."

He blinked once, returned to the present.

"I understand," he said aloud. "And I am willing to do what I can. But I'll admit, I haven't the faintest idea where to begin. Perhaps your visions can offer more clarity. Or not. Either is acceptable."

The Sage stared long and deep. Then finally, she answered.

"Perhaps these words will guide thee better than I."

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

In Ryūchi Cave, Orochimaru listened.
In Shikkotsu Forest, Tsunade listened.
On Mount Myōboku, Jiraiya listened.

And from the mouths of three great sages, the same words fell:

When the Darksign burns three times,
And the thrones of the old lie empty and cold,
They shall rise.

The First shall wear the face of a Dragon.
Born from chaos, raised in calamity.
They will know too much, feel too deeply,
And be called monster by those who fear the truth.
Do not lie to the Dragon.
For it sees through all things.

The Second shall wear the chains of the Giants.
Silent, crowned in rust and old echoes.
They will walk the paths of the dead,
And the earth will remember every step.
Do not fight the Giant.
For it has already endured more than war.

The Third shall fall on hollow wings,
An Angel whose tears burn instead of fall.
Where they go, sorrow will burn cities,
And love will leave only ash.
Do not fear the Angel.
For their grief is older than gods.

Three shall rise.
Not born, but forged.
Not chosen, but burdened.
They will pass through fire, through shadow, through loss.
And they will not turn back.

And in their wake, two worlds shall tremble.
One will try to forget.
The other will relive it again and again.
Three times shall the veil between them shake.
And all that was left behind
Shall walk forward once more.

And at the end of all things, when the stars grow quiet—
You, Dragon.
You, Giant.
You, Angel.

Will you not meet again at the ramen stand at the end of the universe?

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

Author's Note:

Sorry for the late update! My laptop got damaged and it took a bit of time for the repairs to get done—but let's get into it.

1: Why didn't Dragon Naruto use any ninjutsu?

Answer: Simple. Dragon Naruto was fighting on pure instinct rather than with full consciousness. That raises another question—how could he still use magic, pyromancy, and miracles? The answer is that all of those are tied directly to Naruto's soul. They don't require conscious actions like hand signs to activate. They're more like extensions of his soul's nature.

And yes, Naruto covering his claws in wind chakra? That's not a jutsu. He's instinctively channeling raw wind chakra into his limbs, like a beast sharpening its claws.

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

Q: What's with those reactions from the world of Lordran?

Answer: I've gotten a lot of comments asking if we'll see reactions from characters like the Nameless King, Gwyn, and others. But I chose to focus on reactions from side characters who will have more meaningful roles in Naruto's future arc. I wanted those reactions to carry narrative weight, not just fanservice.

Now let me ask you something: Would Siegmeyer joining the battle have made a difference? Reminder, Siegmeyer is level 95.

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

2. Velka, Goddess of Sin

Some of you are wondering: was Velka part of a plot against the gods? Isn't she the bad guy, especially since her crows supposedly forced Anastacia to cut out her tongue?

A) Was Velka part of the Plot Against the Gods?
There is an area in Dark Souls 1, the Painted World of Ariamis, which holds several items related to Velka and is generally associated with the rogue goddess. One such item is the Dark Ember:

The church long hid the forbidden black ember, and no living blacksmith knows of it. Occult weapons were used to hunt the gods, and are effective against their following and kin.

There is a mention of an occult rebellion in the Effigy Shield description:

Frightful occult shield. Defends against divine weapons and lightning. In an ill-fated plot to destroy the very gods, the followers of the occult once attempted to steal the power of Gravelord Nito, the first of the dead.

Velka's Rapier scales with Intelligence and also inflicts occult damage. This implies that Velka played a significant role in the rebellion against the gods, since her followers are equipped with such weapons.

According to the Karmic Justice miracle:
For each sin there is a punishment, and it is the task of Goddess Velka to define the sin and mete out the punishment.

It is possible that Velka was present at the beginning of the Age of Fire and witnessed the defeat of the Everlasting Dragons, finding the gods guilty of interfering with them. Alternatively, it may also be possible that she thought Gwyn's linking of the flame, thus extending the Age of Fire, to be a sin.

After the occult rebellion failed, she seemed to have had a new plan. The statue found in the Painted World can also be found only in New Londo. While it is true that Gwyn granted the Four Kings of New Londo a fragment of his Lord Soul, strangely, there seem to be no statues or other signs of worship of Gwyn—only the statue many associate with Velka. This might imply that Velka had a hand in the Four Kings betraying Gwyn.

Furthermore, the Red Soapstone, associated with the Darkwraiths of New Londo, is found in the Painted World, which might also tie Velka to New Londo and possibly the Darkwraiths:

Certain Darkwraiths resist their descent into dark and preserve along the honorable path. The Red Soapstone is for them.

Velka's influence can also be found in the Catacombs, and the rebellion is mentioned in the Effigy Shield description found in the Tomb of the Giants. Interestingly, the Effigy Shield and the Darkmoon Seance Ring may connect Pinwheel to this occult rebellion theory.

If indeed Pinwheel was part of the occult rebellion, it would make sense for Paladin Leeroy to help in the fight but also prevent anyone from entering Nito's domain and attempting to steal Nito's power.

The secret Rite of Kindling allows bonfires to be bolstered further so that even more Estus can be collected:

Kindling was a sacred rite passed down among clerics, but all Undead can imitate the process in the same manner that they restore their Hollowing with humanity. How peculiar that humans had found little use for humanity until they turned Undead.

The motive behind stealing Nito's power is not clear, but one may argue that Velka wanted to destroy the power that allowed for the further offering of humanity to the flames—meaning the Lords would have no means of prolonging the Age of Fire by commanding their followers to offer more humanity to the bonfires.

In a hidden room in the Catacombs, a coffin is found containing a corpse holding the Darkmoon Seance Ring:

This ring is granted to adherents of Gwyndolin, Darkmoon deity and last born of Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight.

It allows the wearer, presumably a member of the Blade of the Darkmoon covenant, to invade the world of a sinner to seek justice. A strange location for such a ring, so far away from Gwyndolin's influence.

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

B) Isn't she the bad guy, especially since her crows supposedly forced Anastacia to cut out her tongue?

As it's known from the Effigy Shield description, the occult rebellion that Velka seems to have played a big part in has failed:

In an ill-fated plot to destroy the very gods, the followers of the occult once attempted to steal the power of Gravelord Nito, the first of the dead.

It is possible that after her plots were discovered, Velka was banished or fled to the Painted World of Ariamis. Gwyndolin (perhaps secretly) took over the covenant, after which Velka started the legend of the Chosen Undead to bring worthy undead warriors from the Asylum into Lordran and have them mercilessly attack and destroy the gods she had long warred with.

In Japanese mythology, crows are seen as servants of the gods and are often sent out for divine intervention in the world of mortals. In this vein, it can be speculated that the giant crow that transports the Chosen Undead to Lordran is a servant of some god. Given Velka's obvious connection to crows, it is safe to say that if that were the case, then the giant crow serves—or is—her.

Gwyndolin, to counter the legend, attempts to manipulate the Chosen Undead into his own cause: that of linking the First Flame. To support this, consider the following:

Gwyndolin, leader of the Darkmoon Covenant, rewards the player for killing the half-human, half-crow hybrids associated with the worship of Velka, found in the Painted World of Ariamis. These crows drop Souvenirs of Reprisal:

The knights called the Blades of the Darkmoon punish the guilt-soaked offenders of the Gods and take this as proof of their conquest. The earless corpses of the guilty will be left behind as a warning to others, inspiring both fear and respect for the Gods. Such is the eternal mandate of the Dark Sun.

The punishing of the "guilt-soaked offenders of the Gods" is the mandate of Gwyndolin, not Velka. Gwyndolin seems to be using the Darkmoon Blade covenant to manipulate the Chosen Undead to kill Velka's followers and hunt those who oppose the gods:

O Disciple of the Dark Sun. Thou hast journeyed far; hear my voice.
If thou shalt swear by the Covenant, to become a shadow of Father Gwyn and Sister Gwynevere,
A blade that shall hunt the foes of our Lords,
Then I shalt protect thee, safeguarding thy person with the power of the Darkmoon.

Very well. Now thou art a Blade of the Darkmoon. Hunteth the enemies of the Lords, by the power of the Dark Sun.

Gwyndolin's Darkmoon Talisman allows its user to cast sorceries using Faith instead of Intelligence, while Velka's Talisman enables the user to cast miracles using Intelligence instead of Faith. They are the exact opposite of each other, further demonstrating a significant difference between how the two leaders operate:

[Velka's Talisman] casts miracles not by drawing upon faith, but intelligence.
[Darkmoon Talisman] demands dutiful faith from its owner, but has very high miracle adjustment.

This is further supported by the differing purposes of the Blue Eye Orb and Black Eye Orb:

These mystical Blue Eye orbs are granted to Blades of the Darkmoon, knights who serve the Dark Sun Gwyndolin, so that they may serve the Gods in meting out vengeance.
Mystical Black Eye orb found on a Keeper's corpse. Invade the world of the murderer of a Fire Keeper, to defeat the perpetrator and reclaim the soul of the Fire Keeper. The Black Eye keeps constant watch on the city of the Gods, Anor Londo.

The description of the Vow of Silence, a miracle of Velka, may have been used as a precaution against Gwyndolin, a known magic caster, while other gods are primarily miracle users:

Secret rite of black-haired witch Velka. Prevents casting of magic within effect area.

After killing Gwyndolin, Oswald, a pardoner of Velka, has unique dialogue that seems to congratulate the player for killing the leader of the Darkmoon Blades:

Good tidings, thou art welcome. Laudable is thy dedication to sin.

Cut content reveals that there may have been a covenant devoted to Velka, tasked with hunting down the Blades of the Darkmoon, implying that Velka and Dark Sun Gwyndolin were in fact enemies.

So TLDR: The crow that forced Anastacia to cut off her tongue belongs to Gwyndolin. But that doesn't mean Velka is good. She is just neutral.

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

3. Is Rhea Havel's Daughter?

Answer: Canonically, we don't know. Seriously. I'm pretty sure a lot of you already understand that much of Dark Souls lore is vague and left open to interpretation.

For example, how many of you thought Havel's daughter was Priscilla? And I mean many of you presented some solid theories and interesting evidence. Sorry to burst your bubble, but no... Priscilla is not Havel's daughter.

That said, let me present my case for why I think Rhea is Havel's daughter. Just like some of the other theories I've added to this fanfic like Rosaria being Gwyn's wife (still proud of that one).

Let's get into it.

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

Evidence 1: Rhea is the only character who sells Havel's miracle.

Where did she get it?

Miracle Description: Miracle of Bishop Havel the Rock. Cover body in defensive magic coating. This coating greatly boosts magic defense, assisting warriors who must face the magic which Bishop Havel countered so proficiently.

This miracle is specifically tied to Havel and was meant for his warriors. So how does Rhea, of all people, have it?

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

Evidence 2: Rhea comes from a royal family in Thorolund.

You know who else is connected to the royalty of Thorolund?

Item: White Seance Ring

Description: A divine ring entrusted to the head bishop of the Way of White and apostle to Allfather Lloyd, uncle to Lord Gwyn. It grants additional attunement slots. The head bishop of the Way of White is the guardian of law and caste, and one of the great royals of Thorolund.

This tells us that bishops of the Way of White are royalty in Thorolund. And Havel was also a bishop. So, yes, it's not a stretch to make a connection here.

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

Evidence 3: Rhea goes hollow in the Duke's Archives—near the corpse of Havel's wife.

If you complete Rhea's questline, she goes hollow in the Duke's Archives. The interesting part? Her hollowed body is found near the corpse that this fanfic has established as Havel's wife. That's not a random placement. That's deliberate.

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

Evidence 4: Why did Havel leave his armor and Dragon Tooth in Anor Londo?

As I explained in a previous chapter, Havel stored away his gear in case the plot against the gods failed so he could sneak back into Anor Londo and resume his role as bishop if needed.

But why go to all that trouble? Unless you consider Rhea. Havel wanted to protect her. As a bishop and royal of Thorolund, he needed a backup plan in case everything went south. It adds up.

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

How did Rhea survive after Havel's capture?

The Way of White, Seath, or the gods themselves could have killed her. So why didn't they?

Simple: Velka.

Velka is known to judge sins and influence memory and perception. If anyone could manipulate reality or the minds of others to hide Rhea, it would be her. It's not hard to imagine Velka stepping in to keep Rhea hidden once Havel's plan failed.

I'm not claiming this is canon. But like most things in Dark Souls, the evidence is there if you know where to look. And I hope this breakdown shows you why I chose to make Rhea Havel's daughter in this fanfic.

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

4. The Mysterious Sage

Ah, so we finally know what Jiraiya has been up to, and we now have a new prophecy... or rather, visions of the future sent by a mysterious sage.

So who is this sage?

Here's your hint: He's the one who left the Darksign for Naruto to find. Yeah. Think on that.

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

5. Oscar

Remember why Naruto always used the Ring of Sacrifice? Because when hollows absorb a soul drop, they get stronger. The average hollow picked up a 1k soul drop.
Oscar? He absorbed a 10k soul drop. And now Velka has marked him with the Darksign, meaning Oscar can't die. So how strong is Oscar going to get? And what are you expecting next from the little guy?

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

6. Havel the Rock

Despite the relatively short runtime for his arc, I hope I was able to make Havel into a character with depth, nuance, worldbuilding relevance, and strong combat presence.

So, why did I kill him off?

The first reason is that Havel, as a character in the Dark Souls lore, is all about legacy. Even if you don't dive deep into the lore, Havel's presence is felt across Dark Souls 1, 2, and 3. His warriors, armor, and miracles live on. They're essentially carrying out Havel's will and preserving his legend. So giving that legacy to Naruto, letting Havel die while entrusting Naruto with the path of the Everlasting Dragon, felt thematically right and respectful to his character.

The second reason? Let's be real: Havel breaks the story.

Let's look at a hypothetical. Say Havel lives. He could immediately tell Naruto about Ash Lake and send him to train with the Everlasting Dragon. He could give Naruto a summoning sign, allowing Naruto to summon him against Orochimaru, Gaara, Itachi, and even the Akatsuki. Havel is thousands of years more experienced than anyone in Naruto. He'd steamroll through most challenges.

He could also just explain everything to Naruto; Gwyndolin, the lies of the gods, the true nature of fire and dark, boom. Story solved in ten chapters.

And I know you guys don't want the story to end that quickly.

So, yeah. Havel needed to die.

RIP.

Let me know what you thought of Havel's character and his arc. Did it land for you? Did his legacy feel earned? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

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

7. The Dragon, the Giant, and the Angel

I debated whether or not to include this prophecy in the chapter. A lot had already happened, and I didn't want to overload things further but here it is.

Remember the line at the end of Naruto's dragon transformation? The first of three.

That was the beginning of this prophecy.

It refers to three key individuals who will shape the narrative going forward.

Naruto is the Dragon.

Now, what about the Giant and the Angel? Simple, I'm not revealing that yet. You'll have to read and find out. Hehehe.

But I'm curious… who do you think the Giant and the Angel are? Or who do you want the giant and angel to be? Any and all theories are welcome. I'd love to hear your ideas!

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

That's it for now!

As always, I appreciate you all taking the time to read, comment, and just come along for the ride.

—Adam