"You... Fortissax?"
After an unknown span of deathly silence, Godwyn stood rigid, his face blank as he stared at the white Dragon Lady before him.
This was the first time he had ever lost his composure. Even when he'd watched Lloyd punch through the Shadow Seal with one blow, he hadn't been this shocked.
After all, no matter how unpredictable Lloyd could be, there had been foreshadowing, and Godwyn hadn't spent much time with him. He knew he didn't fully understand the man, so even if Lloyd acted beyond expectations, he was ready for the "unexpected."
But this dragon in front of him...
Godwyn's mind crashed.
It wasn't for lack of experience. As the eldest prince of the Golden Order Dynasty, he had lived through the Giant War and the Ancient Dragon War, and later took charge of governing the Golden Order Dynasty. In steadiness, vision, and information processing, he far surpassed others. Even under Lloyd's psychic assault, he had performed better than anyone.
The problem was, this was Fortissax.
The very Fortissax who had fought him to mutual understanding, then fought beside him ever after. The one who never left him for a lifetime, who even after death willingly offered up a life to enter his mental world, just to leave him a final shred of dignity. The Fortissax who lived and died with him.
"This... isn't... you... aren't..."
For the first time, Godwyn stammered, his thoughts in chaos.
Watching the helpless Godwyn, Fortissax blinked, and then...
...burst out laughing.
"Ha, Godwyn, so you can make that face after all."
Earlier, when discussing matters with a certain someone, she had said that if she could take on the form in the blueprint, Godwyn's expression would be priceless.
Back then, Fortissax only meant to give Godwyn a scare and tease her brother, and with a few other small calculations in mind, accepted the blueprint that someone handed over. She never expected it to work this well...
...
To summarize what happened:
After keeping a certain head company inside the lantern for a long time, Fortissax's soul gradually regained clarity and met the basic conditions for resurrection.
But having lost her body and been eroded for too long in that realm of death, even as an Ancient Dragon—and even with Lloyd's help—Fortissax's soul had suffered irreversible damage, merging with "death" itself.
In this situation, because the Cursed Doll expanded the design scope of the Crucible Fragment, Lloyd could have directly resurrected her in dragon form.
Yet due to the soul's mutation, doing so would likely cause problems. The plan, then, was to create a transitional form first. After gradual recovery and adaptation, she could unlock the ability to return to her Ancient Dragon form.
A reasonable proposal, and Fortissax did not refuse.
After agreeing, a new question arose.
What should Fortissax's transitional form look like?
Even as a "transition," a body can shape the soul. The form would inevitably have some irreversible effects. Even after unlocking the Ancient Dragon form, she could still switch back to the transitional appearance. So this had to be handled carefully.
Given the seriousness, Lloyd hadn't planned to joke. But—
"Just to be safe, what is your gender?"
"Rock."
Fortissax answered at once.
This wasn't a joke. Her gender—or rather, the entire Ancient Dragon race's gender—really is "rock."
"Sanks," the common suffix in Ancient Dragon names, means "rock" in their tongue. It is both their name and their nature.
"Then your sister..."
"I had to use a term humans could understand, right?"
Fortissax paused, then remembered something.
"And actually, that title wasn't set at the start. Later, my sister took a liking to a human knight, so she settled on how she would be addressed..."
"And? Did they end up together?"
"No. The man was devoted to his Finger Maiden, and my sister isn't the type to cling. Once she confirmed he didn't feel the same, she let it go."
This wasn't a lie, though it did omit and polish a few things.
For example, while she had no proof, Fortissax always suspected the knight's refusal wasn't because he disliked her sister, but for a simpler reason.
Her looks.
But this isn't to say that Lansseax's true form lacked beauty. In fact, even among the most stunning of the Ancient Dragons, her true form would still rank among the most magnificent.
The problem was, she had set her sights on a human. Whether for communication or anything else, her true form would be inconvenient, so she needed to take on a humanoid shape. But her human form...
The term "Dragon Lady" might sound alluring, evoking images of fair-skinned beauties with decorative scales, majestic horns, and an air of both grace and power. But the dragons of the Lands Between...
Dragon heads, dragon bodies, shriveled skin, tattered forms, and coarse, dark-gray flesh that inspired not a single spark of desire in anyone who saw them.
Other than being roughly human-sized, with heads, limbs, and upright posture, they had nothing in common with humanity. Their appearance could even rival some demi-humans in terms of plainness.
This isn't to say that Lansseax didn't want to become more beautiful or more humanlike. The issue was that, while the Ancient Dragons of the Lands Between were powerful, intelligent, and possessed their own civilization, during the height of their age, dragons and giants had ruled the world. They never considered, nor deigned, to take on the forms of those lesser beings.
After the meteorite impact, they no longer had the time or energy to study such trivial things, which left the shapeshifting techniques of the Lands Between's dragons crude and underdeveloped.
In fact, strictly speaking, Lansseax's shapeshifting was considered excellent among dragons. A certain Fortissax, who preferred to remain unnamed, despite holding the title of "Strongest Rock," was utterly hopeless at transformation. The most she could manage was to shrink her size, a trick that often earned her teasing from both her sister and her good friend.
But now, a new blueprint had been placed before her.
"So, what do you think of this design?"
It was also a Dragon Lady.
But not one of the Lands Between. This one was created by Lloyd, using the Golden Folk template as a base and merging it with draconic traits—something much closer to the traditional idea of a Dragon Lady.
At first, when Fortissax saw the design, she refused.
Not because of gender, but because the body looked poorly suited for battle, which didn't sit well with her.
Yet moments later, before Lloyd could even say anything, she changed her mind.
"This... counts as a form of 'shapeshifting,' right?"
Previously, Fortissax's inability to shapeshift had made her a frequent target of teasing from Lansseax and Godwyn. Over time, it left a bit of resentment in her heart.
A male transitional form might make battle more convenient, but if she wanted to show off to her sister, the effect would be greatly reduced.
Besides, this form wasn't meant for fighting anyway—it was intended to avoid combat and focus on recovery. So...
As Fortissax hesitated, Lloyd delivered the final push.
"I'm not forcing you, and I'll be honest—I recommended this transformation because I thought it might be... fun."
"Fun?"
Hearing that, Fortissax didn't get angry. Instead, her interest was piqued.
"Explain."
After hearing Lloyd's reasoning—that appearing before Godwyn in a female form would make for an amusing reaction—Fortissax nodded without hesitation.
"Then this it is."
Though after Godwyn's death, she had willingly sacrificed herself to enter his soul and protect that last shred of dignity for him, when Godwyn was alive, the situation was entirely different.
As the saying goes, in times of trouble, a brother is your strongest support—but when there's no trouble, a brother becomes your trouble...
Even after Fortissax agreed, the matter wasn't finished.
What Lloyd had presented was only a basic template. The appearance and finer details still needed to be designed and adjusted by Fortissax herself, using her own soul to model and adapt to the form.
But this led to another issue.
As a dragon who couldn't shapeshift, Fortissax didn't understand human aesthetics very well.
Still, that wasn't a problem. Even if she didn't understand, she could always imitate someone else.
And as for who to imitate...
Who was closest to her? Who could talk about anything with her? Who, having seen her as a brother, had once shared all her private tastes and preferences?
Really, it wasn't hard to guess.
And so, things had turned out the way they were now.
After Godwyn turned around, he saw it.
His best friend—appearing before him in the most perfect form he could ever imagine.
Thump. Thump.
The sound of his heartbeat had never been so clear.
Meanwhile, on the other side, completely unaware of the situation, Fortissax was still smug about the success of her prank. After releasing Godwyn, she cheerfully explained that this form was just to mess with him, nothing more...
"Um, I remember... the dragon lightning that wraps around your whole body—only a dragon shrine maiden who understands 'love' can use it, right?"
Miquella suddenly spoke up, her tone innocent and unfiltered.
"And that incantation is regarded as a symbol of a Covenant."
"It's only granted to the one you love."
As those words fell, Fortissax—who had been talking so casually moments before—froze in place, her expression gradually turning blank.
Because what Miquella said was entirely true. And during the fight just now, she really had—probably, maybe, definitely—used that incantation...
...
Silence fell.
After confirming that both man and dragon were now as still as statues, Miquella turned her gaze toward Lloyd, a flicker of fear flashing in her eyes.
"Um, hello, Tarnished One. Nice to meet you. I'm Miquella..."
"Just call me Lloyd."
After the brief introductions, Lloyd spoke again.
"You remember what happened before, right?"
"I... remember everything."
Miquella hesitated.
"From your arrival, to the battle just now, and the last words you said... I remember it all."
Lloyd nodded.
Good. That saves a lot of unnecessary talking.
After confirming that Miquella retained memories from the time he was under his influence, Lloyd didn't bother repeating the past events. He simply explained the current situation.
When Lloyd finished, Miquella stayed silent for a long while before lowering his head.
"I'm truly sorry. The mess I caused ended up being yours to clean up. Even I..."
He stopped mid-sentence.
Clutching at his chest, he recalled the past, his expression twisting with pain. As the haze lifted, memories returned in full force. His will had never been strong, and he had to cut away his fear just to enter this place. Now, all he felt was endless pain and guilt.
Yes, he could claim it was the spell's fault—that his actions were not truly his own. But deep down, he knew that haze was part of himself.
It was his own will that wavered. His own choice to embrace the fog. And that was what led to this outcome.
As for why his resolve had faltered...
"I... just wanted everyone to be happy."
Miquella's voice trembled, soft and full of tears.
It wasn't a lie. That really had been his original wish. Otherwise, the Haligtree wouldn't have been so accepting—even of corruption, even of the Albinaurics.
But he couldn't do it.
He wanted to heal his sister, yet no matter what he tried—even offering up his own Law—it achieved nothing.
He wanted to embrace all, but the Haligtree could only hold so much. As time went on, he had to turn away from, even abandon, the hands reaching out to him for help.
Inside, unrest festered. Outside, enemies closed in. The Two Fingers had issued the Empyrean Slaughter Decree. Reports of the Golden Order Dynasty's atrocities and tragedies poured in from every direction...
During that time, Miquella was like a bystander holding a toilet plunger in a trolley problem—wanting to save everyone, yet powerless to stop the train as it ran people over before his eyes. On the rare occasions he could intervene, the choice always required sacrificing one group to save another.
Many believed Miquella only began losing himself after arriving in the Land of Shadow. But in truth, he had already begun much earlier—ever since the day he could let those seeking the Haligtree freeze to death in the Consecrated Snowfield.
He wanted everything. He wanted to save everyone. But his obsessive pursuit of perfection only led to greater imperfection.
And as those fractures grew, to fill the cracks in his heart—or perhaps simply to escape reality—he embraced the haze.
And so, he became the Gentle Believer.
"If only everyone's hearts were filled with love... if everyone became gentle... then maybe there wouldn't be so much pain and suffering anymore."
That's what he thought.
...
"Leda loves you too. She's with me now. Do you want to see her?"
At that name, Miquella—who moments ago had been drowning in grief—suddenly trembled. She lifted her head and stammered out,
"No... there's no need. Knowing she's still alive is enough..."
The moment she spoke, Miquella realized the flaw in her past reasoning.
Especially when she imagined that if her vision had come true, the world might be filled with countless 'Ledas'—even ones greater than Leda herself—Miquella felt a chill run down her spine.
"I know I was wrong. Whatever punishment you decide on, I'll accept it..."
"Let's talk outside. Time's almost up."
Lloyd glanced around at the collapsing world, then at the others nearby. Once each had given a small nod, his figure began to fade away.
A familiar wave of dizziness washed over him, and when it cleared, Lloyd was standing once more before the Tower of God.
The small figure lying on the ground trembled a few times, then slowly opened her eyes.
"Lloyd, I—"
"Don't start talking yet."
Spotting something out of the corner of his eye, Lloyd cut Miquella off.
"Even without your essence, you should still have your power of enchantment, right?"
Miquella blinked, puzzled.
"I do, but... do you intend to take it away—"
"No. What I mean is, if you can still use it, then go over there and charm that ragged omen for me."
He gestured toward Morgott, who was currently being pinned to the ground by Mohg, struggling furiously.
A quick summary of events:
Since Lloyd and Godwyn's soul had entered Miquella's mind earlier and fought for quite some time, the two Ge brothers outside, having nothing better to do, had started talking.
Having met many Hornsent—especially the interrogators and beast knights—Morgott hadn't thought much about it while worrying for his elder brother. But after finding Miquella safe and calming down, he suddenly realized something wasn't right.
"Mohg, you and my brother... are you hiding something from me?"
"Those horned ones—they're called 'Hornsent,' right? What's their story? Why haven't I seen them in the Lands Between...?"
"Well, that's..."
To be honest, Mohg had no desire to talk about it.
But he wasn't Godwyn, and lying to Morgott wasn't his strength. Under Morgott's pointed questions and sharp insight, the truth eventually slipped out.
And then...
There was no "then."
When Morgott tried to harm himself, Mohg had blindsided him, pinned him down, and held him there ever since.
"Sorry, that's on me. I shouldn't have brought it up..."
Lloyd shook his head.
"They've seen the Hornsent already. There's no keeping it secret now."
After helping Miquella charm Morgott to stop his self-destructive thoughts, Lloyd picked up the golden lantern and opened its lid.
He reached inside, tore free the golden fragment attached to the small Godrick head, then opened his inventory and retrieved Godwyn the Golden's soul.
The two merged.
Amid a surge of golden light, the long-separated pieces became one again.
The hollow soul regained awareness—no longer a shard clinging to another being.
Golden motes gathered, slowly forming a human shape. Its eyes opened.
[Godwyn the Golden]
He stood tall, stern-faced, his golden hair cascading like a waterfall. After surveying his surroundings, his gaze locked onto Lloyd.
"Lloyd, I—"
Before he could finish, Lloyd grabbed his soul and instantly refined it.
"Wait—let me finish—!"
"Finish what? I've got things to do. Go reincarnate and look after your brother."
Moments later, the golden figure appeared again. This time, it wasn't a spirit but the man himself, wearing a helpless look.
He barely had time to process it before another burst of golden flame flared, and the white-stone Dragon Lady materialized before him—instantly wiping away that helplessness.
What replaced it was embarrassment, confusion, and a flicker of guilt.
As the man and dragon stood there, unsure what to say, Lloyd suddenly spoke.
"Oh, right. One reminder—Fortissax's soul is still severely damaged. Until she recovers her dragon form, she'll need constant replenishment."
"...What does that mean?"
"It means you two have to stay close. No more than three meters apart. Maximum separation time—five minutes. Otherwise, irreversible damage will occur."
"...Three meters? Five minutes?"
Both human and dragon froze.
"What about at night..."
"You'll have to sleep together."
Without acknowledging their stunned silence, Lloyd continued toward the Gate of Divinity.
At the base of the gate, he picked up the fragment that had once rested on Miquella's body and stowed it away, but didn't revive it immediately.
For one, he had already identified the fragment's nature—it contained only the young prince of Lothric.
Though Lloyd had gotten along with many from Dark Souls, his relationship with the Lothric prince wasn't particularly close—or rather, the boy barely tolerated anyone besides his brother. Resurrecting him without that brother around would likely just send him sulking into some damp corner, no better than being dead. There was no rush.
The other reason was the figure beneath the Gate—raising both hands, weaving strands of golden light.
"What are you doing?"
Lloyd approached.
"Checking usage traces and source code... that's the simplest way to put it."
Alice didn't look up.
"Is it important?" Lloyd asked.
"Not really. Just gathering data... Why?"
"Nothing."
Lloyd blinked.
"Just wanted to make your job a little harder."
Alice froze for a moment, then resumed her work without answering.
That silence was as good as consent.
So Lloyd didn't hesitate. Confirming her lack of protest, he slipped a hand beneath her arm and lowered his head.
A few moments later, behind the Gate of Divinity—hidden in a corner veiled by a shimmering golden fog—soft sounds could be heard.
"Mm... ah..."
"Be... be gentler. If you keep that up, I can't even check the data..."