The fire has faded ,and the thrones are empty. Now, only ashes remain .The fire has faded, and the thrones are empty. Now, only ashes remain.
Northern Loen Kingdom, Winter County.
Another full moon.
A pointed Gothic black Church stands tall on the snow-capped peaks, the blood-red moonlight obliquely illuminating the cold stone coffins in the cemetery behind the Church.
The stone coffins were not buried, just exposed to the air like that.
And in the center of the cemetery was a bonfire constructed from bones.
The blood-red full moon brazenly illuminated everything on the Earth, and also illuminated a half-open stone coffin in the cemetery.
Suddenly, the lid of the stone coffin was slightly moved.
"Clang!"
A hand wearing a gauntlet broke out of the coffin.
Having been burned by the First Flame for a long time, the gauntlet was already broken and deformed, with crimson sparks faintly flowing from within.
The undead Beowulf Nova, who had spent long years in darkness, finally woke up again from his sleeping stone coffin.
He looked around blankly, his eyes filled with deep exhaustion and confusion.
"It's time for Lordvessel again?"
"But..."
He looked up at the sky; the blood-red moon above his head made him feel inexplicably mystic, and he muttered softly, "Why is it a Red Moon? A new story setting? Dark Souls IV? Or Yharnam?"
"Forget it, none of that matters."
He shook his head, his gaze slowly falling upon the bonfire constructed from bones in front of him.
Anyway, let's light the bonfire first.
"Thud!"
Beowulf Nova left the stone coffin where he had slept for a thousand years, leaving distinct footprints on the snow-covered earth.
Finally, he arrived before the bonfire.
There was no Gravekeeper, no hounds, and no crystal lizards.
Everything was so smooth, so smooth that Beowulf felt a little doubtful about life, his eyes full of confusion.
But no matter what, he still took out his spiral sword—
It was a great spiral sword with star-fire markings from forging on its blade, and it had not cooled at all despite the ice and snow.
Then.
He plunged it into the bonfire.
"Whoosh!"
A weak flame rose from the bones, making small crackling sounds.
"Lit?"
Beowulf muttered to himself, "So it really is a bonfire? Is this Firelink Shrine? Right in the cemetery? Then where is my Fire Keeper?"
As Beowulf thought, he was about to look around for traces of the Fire Keeper.
He looked up and found that a figure had appeared before him at some point.
The figure was wearing a simple linen robe with mending marks, and a belt twisted like tree bark was tied around her waist.
Long black hair fell freely, her feet bare and covered in dust and scars.
Without a doubt, this was a lady.
"Are you my Fire Keeper?"
Beowulf walked forward and asked calmly.
He was waiting for the Fire Keeper to give him guidance, waiting for her to explain the background.
Only then could he know where to go to find fuel.
"No."
The lady seemed to have expected his question and said softly, "My name is Arianna, Servant of the Mystic."
"Then, where is my Fire Keeper?"
Beowulf frowned, looking at the NPC in front of him and pressing the question.
The other party was not the Fire Keeper, but she did not question the term Fire Keeper, indicating that she knew some clues.
She's probably this generation's Crestfallen Knight... or Crestfallen Lady?
"I don't know."
Arianna gently shook her head, speaking neither quickly nor slowly, "I am only responsible for giving you some guidance, Beowulf."
"She knows my name, but doesn't know where the Fire Keeper is?"
Beowulf was a bit confused. What was this?
A new setting for Dark Souls IV?
"What guidance?"
Beowulf quickly adjusted his mindset and asked.
"Backlund."
Arianna tapped her chest four times clockwise, saying in a devout posture, "There is the first Lord of Cinder you are looking for."
"Understood."
Beowulf nodded. Since he knew where the Lord of Cinder was, everything would be easy.
"So, where is Backlund?"
"The capital of the Loen Kingdom."
"Loen Kingdom?"
Beowulf muttered the unfamiliar country name with some confusion, hesitating, "Is this Lordran? Where is Anor Londo?"
"I've never heard of those places."
Arianna thought for a moment and gently shook her head.
"Never heard of it?"
Beowulf frowned and asked, "Then where is this?"
"Northern Loen Kingdom, Winter County."
Arianna slightly lowered her eyebrows.
"Then how do I get to Backlund?"
Beowulf nodded, then asked again.
As soon as he asked, he saw the lady in front of him extend her hand.
"Thud!"
Beowulf instinctively slapped the hand away, and an Irithyll Straight Sword instantly appeared in his right hand.
But seeing that the other party did not react violently, he did not proceed further.
"I have no ill will."
Arianna, whose hand was slapped away, simply tapped her chest four times again and said softly, "This is just a method of teleportation."
"Teleportation?"
A hint of understanding appeared in Beowulf's eyes.
Bonfires carry the power of the First Flame. Even crude imitations hold remnants of its aura.
Therefore, teleportation between ignited bonfires was possible—
Assuming multiple bonfires were already lit.
But for now, with only one bonfire lit, teleportation seemed unlikely.
However, Arianna seemed to have her own way.
"Sorry."
Beowulf apologized sincerely and extended his hand, signaling her to continue.
Actually, whether the other party had ill will didn't matter to him. At worst, he would just die.
But.
He was undead.
Arianna hesitated, then grabbed Beowulf's arm.
Then, the figures of the two seemed to be erased by something, disappearing into shadows.
Meanwhile.
In the shadows of the prayer hall of Saint Samuel Cathedral in Backlund, a male figure clad in broken knight armor materialized.
"Arianna?"
Beowulf looked around the unfamiliar environment and called out.
"Benefactor."
An old voice echoed in his ear. Beowulf turned and saw an old man in black and red archbishop robes with deep eyes and no beard.
"Benefactor? Me?"
Beowulf looked around and pointed at himself blankly.
"Yes, Benefactor."
The old man's eyes held deep respect. "Lady Arianna has departed. My name is Archbishop Anthony Stevenson of Saint Samuel Cathedral. I will guide you in the tasks ahead."
"Why do you call me Benefactor?"
Beowulf frowned slightly, displeased with the unfamiliar title.
The archbishop said nothing. Instead, he looked toward Beowulf's left hand.
Beowulf followed his gaze, raised his arm, and opened his palm.
An emblem lay silently in his hand, as if carved from black crystal, deep and clear.
When Beowulf looked directly at it, he saw it.
When he looked away, it vanished.
Then, a line appeared in his vision:
Emblem of the Night Emblem of the Night
An emblem bestowed upon the Benefactor by the Goddess of the Night.
The holder gains Mystic protection.
Legend has it that when displayed, followers of the Night shall recognize the bearer as a chosen of the Goddess.
...
Beowulf remained silent for a long time, memories and doubts swirling.
"Backlund, Loen Kingdom, Goddess of the Night, Arianna, Saint Samuel Cathedral, pathways, Archbishop Anthony Stevenson..."
"Lord of the Mysteries?"
He muttered softly.
"Wasn't I here to Lordvessel...?"