Church of Elleh. The Erdtree hung high in the sky, bathed in the bright noon sun.
Frieren rolled over and continued sleeping soundly, completely unconcerned by the occasional living corpse wandering nearby. Her peaceful expression suggested she was having a pleasant dream. Conversely, the sheer pressure emanating from her while asleep deterred the creatures; they instinctively gave her a wide berth, choosing to detour. This was clearly a fearsome killer, someone not to be trifled with. Best to avoid trouble.
"Still sleeping!"
Melina, who had been waiting for quite some time, arched an eyebrow. While not impatient by nature, she felt a Tarnished should at least be punctual. Last night, Frieren had confidently declared her intention to tackle and scout the area before the main gate, yet now she seemed utterly indifferent.
Should Melina assume the responsibility of a maiden and urge her companion onward? But she wasn't a true Finger Maiden. Would constantly nagging create a poor dynamic? After only a day of interaction, she couldn't be sure of Frieren's personality...
As Melina pondered, Frieren rolled over again, wrapping herself tightly in her blanket like a spring roll. Her silver hair, already tousled from her unrestrained sleeping posture, was now a mess of tangles and stray curls, yet it didn't affect the quality of her sleep in the slightest. To dare sleep like this in the Lands Between was, indeed, a sign of strength.
"Someone's here!"
Suddenly, several Godrick soldiers appeared on the path at the other end of the church ruins. They had received reports from scouts: the Tree Sentinel, who had guarded the path from the Chapel of Anticipation for years and killed countless Tarnished, had been defeated by a newcomer. They had rushed over immediately to investigate and now spotted the unfamiliar face.
Sensing trouble, Melina quickly nudged Frieren, but the elf remained unmoving, sleeping like a log.
"Wake up, quickly!" Melina pushed harder, gently slapping Frieren's cheek. "Godrick's soldiers are here! If they capture you, even if you survive, you'll end up being grafted!"
After repeated prodding, the silver-haired girl finally sat up, eyes bleary with sleep, looking around in confusion.
Boom!
A Soul Arrow spell instantly shot towards the squad of soldiers, blasting them off their feet. Some disintegrated into ash on the spot, transforming into Runes.
Though groggy, her actions were decisive. Tempered by countless battles in Souls-like games, Frieren might appear relaxed on the surface, but she had various alert and counter-attack measures prepared. Attack speed was paramount; overwhelming firepower came first.
She stood up, grasped her staff, and unleashed another sweeping volley. The soldiers, naturally, stood no chance. Before they could even clearly see their attacker, they met their end just outside the church. The Soul Arrow, originating from the world of Dark Souls, was astonishingly fast in Frieren's hands, proving exceptionally effective at clearing out mobs. In moments, the soldiers fell like wheat before a scythe.
"Why is it so fast?"
To their very last moments, they couldn't comprehend how simple beams of magical light could possess such devastating power.
Feeling the influx of Runes, Frieren let out another yawn. Seeing her looking ready to drift back to sleep, Melina quickly intervened:
"The Tree Sentinel's death yesterday has already alerted the army. Before the defenses are fully locked down, we should reach and activate the Site of Grace before Stormveil Castle. If we can teleport, travel will be much easier."
"Wait a moment, I need to tidy up."
With that, the elf girl slowly began checking her bag and combing her hair. Her movements were incredibly unhurried and deliberate. Melina finally understood: this Tarnished was decidedly slow-paced.
"Let me help."
Resigned, Melina picked up a comb and began tending to Frieren's hair, accidentally brushing against one of her long, pointed ears.
"I've been meaning to ask," Melina said hesitantly. "Do you perhaps have some unusual heritage? Of course, if it's inconvenient to talk about, just pretend I didn't ask."
"By the standards of the Lands Between, I suppose it counts as a special bloodline," Frieren replied. "My race is called Elf. Our characteristics are as you see. Our talents lie in longevity and affinity for magic, though I imagine that's nothing remarkable here."
"Elf?" Melina murmured, comparing them perhaps to the Numen, another race known to hail from outside the Lands Between. She combed Frieren's hair even more carefully now, as if tending to some rare and precious creature. Was coddling her like this really the right approach? Hard to say. Well, she rationalized, consider it a means to reach the foot of the Erdtree sooner.
Feeling the familiar sensation of being groomed, Frieren couldn't help but reflect: the realism was consistent, even extending to drowsiness. Her 'game magic's' sleep felt even more comfortable than before. In reality, she would appear to be merely sleeping deeply, not uncommon among elves. But to continue sleeping within what was essentially a dream-like magic state was unusual, even bordering on the unsettlingly profound.
A dream within a dream!
In the realm of magic, this was a deep, complex concept, an abstruse state worthy of study, but she had long since adapted. Sleeping soundly simply meant her 'game magic' was growing stronger.
After briefly getting ready, the two prepared to depart. Frieren let out a sharp whistle, and the spirit steed Torrent materialized. She deftly mounted him, settled firmly in the saddle, then extended a hand towards the one-eyed maiden beside her with a smile.
"Melina, didn't you say yesterday you wanted to ride behind me? Let's go together."
"Then let us depart."
Melina adjusted her cloak slightly and sat sideways behind Frieren. Feeling the weight of the two small figures, Torrent gave an eager neigh, then broke into a full gallop. It was the first time he'd shown such enthusiasm since leaving his former master, Miquella; riding into battle with this Tarnished felt like an honor.
Even with the spirit steed's impressive speed and double-jump capability, it took quite some time traversing the vast expanse of the Lands Between before they could faintly make out signs of encampment ahead. Frieren gained a new appreciation for the sheer scale of this world.
Based on their speed and using the Erdtree as a reference point, she could roughly estimate the landmass's size – it was definitely comparable to a continent in her reality, the two being roughly equal in scale. This meant the Shardbearer Godrick effectively ruled an area equivalent to a kingdom, and the former Golden Order had been an empire unifying much of the land. To become Elden Lord meant reigning over this immense territory, demanding not just power but significant governing skill. The first king must have been a truly great hero.
First Elden Lord Godfrey.
Lord Gwyn, the first Lord of Cinder.
The names sounded somewhat connected, Frieren mused. Perhaps it was a convergence stemming from similar grand, heroic accomplishments.
While lost in thought, Frieren casually cleared out minor enemies along their path, unconcerned about causing ecological damage through excessive killing. From her observations, sleeping acted like a respawn mechanic; weaker monsters would reappear, so there was no need for restraint. That being the case, she would seize every opportunity to grind levels, aiming to develop her Elden Ring mage character as quickly as possible.
Truthfully, over the years, she had never fully overlaid a complete game character onto her true self – the power was too immense, potentially overwhelming. That's why strengthening through Runes was necessary. She wondered just how powerful she could become one day by stacking various independent multipliers from different builds.
"Whoa!"
Suddenly, Frieren pulled back on the reins. Torrent immediately halted, then began to move with uncanny stealth, like an understanding human. The reason was simple: they were close. The Gatefront lived up to its name – it was heavily garrisoned by Godrick's soldiers. At a glance, there were hundreds of them.
Crucially, these were leagues above the soldiers encountered earlier. They were well-equipped, many clad head-to-toe in armor – gear that would be considered luxury items even in reality. Among them were larger, imposing figures wielding greatshields and long weapons, accompanied by trained wolves or dogs, enhancing their tracking capabilities.
For the first time, Frieren was witnessing a proper, organized military unit of the Lands Between.
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