Lucian threw a glance back toward the sleeping Sif, who had curled up on the blanket, his little belly round and full. The small wolf pup was sleeping so soundly that even the faint flicker of firelight in the tent could not disturb him.
Leaving Sif in the tent, Lucian stepped outside together with Selinsax. The morning air was still cool, carrying with it the faint metallic scent of drakeblood from the soldiers' armor. Before leaving the Drakeblood Knights' encampment, Lucian decided to visit Hakkan's tent once more.
He had left too quickly yesterday—he'd forgotten to bestow a blessing upon Hakkan.
But when he arrived, the tent was empty.
Lucian turned to ask a nearby Drakeblood Knight on guard, and soon learned that Hakkan was out at the training grounds. Apparently, every day he gathered the knights for drills. Except for those injured or on rotation, every knight had to attend, to maintain the regiment's standard.
It didn't take long for Lucian to locate the training field behind the camp.
It was a simple clearing hastily cleared out of the wilderness. Rough wooden posts had been driven into the earth for practice, and large stones lay scattered about for strength training.
Beyond physical exercise, the knights were engaged in paired sparring—shields and swords clashing lightly, their movements deliberate and restrained. They did not strike with real force; this was about precision, timing, and flow. Such drills prevented damage to armor and weapons, and, more importantly, kept injuries at bay.
Lucian soon spotted Hakkan amidst the sparring crowd. The commander stood locked in practice with another Drakeblood Knight in a small open space.
The Drakeblood Knights' standard armament was a sword and a medium shield—one hand for each. Their greatswords, called Drakeblood Greatswords, were famous in the Dark Souls world… and somewhat infamous among players of the 'DS' era, where their awkward length had earned them the mocking nickname of "Drakeblood Dagger".
Lucian himself remembered how clumsy it had felt to wield one back then—he had eaten his fair share of counterattacks because of that awkward length.
That was why he had redesigned it. Now, the Drakeblood Greatsword truly lived up to its name—its length rivaled that of the standard Lordsworn's Greatsword.
But Hakkan, unlike the others, fought without a shield.
He wielded the weapon with both hands, his strikes heavy and fluid. Once a mercenary of Kaiden, he had long since grown used to the style of fierce, relentless offense. His sword was even larger than standard issue—borderline colossal.
When Lucian approached, Hakkan noticed him and immediately ceased his bout, motioning for his sparring partner to withdraw. He removed his helmet and grinned.
"Training hard, I see," Lucian remarked.
"Hah, just the usual daily drills," Hakkan replied, brushing dust from his brow and stepping forward.
But as he approached, he saw Lucian extend his right hand toward him.
"Hakkan," Lucian said solemnly, "I will now bestow upon you a blessing. May the golden radiance guide your path."
Hakkan froze for a heartbeat. "A… blessing?"
Lucian nodded. "Yes. That kind of blessing—the true Grace of the Golden Order."
"Why? Do you refuse to accept it?" he added, tone calm but carrying weight.
Hakkan shook his head quickly, his expression growing serious. "Refuse? Never. No one living in the Lands Between would ever turn away from Grace."
He dropped to one knee, planting his sword before him, and bowed his head.
Lucian smiled faintly, then raised his hand.
A soft golden light began to radiate from his palm. The power of runes flowed through his Greater Rune, transforming into tangible brilliance. Threads of light spiraled outward, slowly descending into Hakkan's eyes.
A moment later, golden luminescence flooded his vision.
Just as he had done for others before, Lucian poured thirty thousand runes' worth of energy through the Great Rune, channeling it into Hakkan's body.
The knight's breath hitched as warmth spread through his limbs. Strength welled up inside him like a tide. His vision cleared, the world around him sharpened—every edge and glimmer seemed lined with golden light.
When he finally rose to his feet, clenching his fists, he could feel the difference. The Grace didn't just open his eyes to the Sites of Grace scattered across the Lands Between—it made his entire being feel renewed, his body surging with life.
The barriers that had once restrained his growth… now felt paper-thin, as though one decisive moment—one fierce battle or profound revelation—could break them entirely.
Around the training field, the other Drakeblood Knights had stopped sparring, drawn by the light.
When they saw the golden glow in Hakkan's eyes, a murmur rippled through them—excitement, reverence, awe. Some clenched their fists in silence, others bowed their heads, holding back the urge to cheer.
Grace… true Grace!
The power that had once abandoned the Lands Between, the very thing all mortals longed to reclaim—now shone once more before their eyes.
And the one who could bestow it was none other than Lord Lucian himself.
In that instant, every knight present felt it in their hearts: this was no mere commander. This was the rightful heir to the Elden Lord's throne—the true successor of the Golden Order.
The morale of the Drakeblood Legion soared to unmatched heights.
Their hearts burned with conviction; every strike of their sword now had meaning. They were fighting for something real, something holy.
Hakkan raised his gaze, his golden eyes meeting Lucian's calm ones.
From the day he had first met Lucian on the shore, so much had changed. Back then, the young man was still new to the Lands Between, barely more capable than Hakkan himself.
But now…
Now Lucian stood before him as someone who could wield the power of gods.
"Lucian," Hakkan said, voice low and sincere, "I won't waste words of thanks. You've treated me as a friend—and for that, this life of mine is yours."
"You trusted me enough to command the Drakeblood Legion. I'll make sure we become the sharpest blade of Stormveil's campaign."
"And I'll do everything in my power to help you achieve your wish."
Lucian knew exactly which wish he spoke of.
Back then, he had vowed—to bring peace to the Lands Between. Hakkan was the sole witness to that vow. Not even Melina knew. It was a promise shared only between the two of them.
Lucian clapped him on the shoulder, smiling.
"Then I'll look forward to that day," he said. "And you, wait for the day I become Elden Lord and fulfill that wish."
Without another word, Lucian turned to leave with Selinsax. There was still much to learn—today, he would begin his training in the ancient dragon's incantations.
But before he left, he called back over his shoulder:
"Oh, right—take care of Sif for me."
"The little wolf that hatched from the egg yesterday. He's in my tent now. If he wakes up, feed him the meat inside."
Hakkan blinked in surprise but nodded. He, too, had a white wolf companion—he knew how to handle a pup.
Even if Sif was… well, not exactly an ordinary wolf.
And with Torrent also staying behind in the tent, the pup wouldn't be alone. The spectral steed had already shown fondness for him.
Lucian had no worries leaving them together.
After all, for the coming journey, he would be riding on the back of Selinsax.
Hakkan saluted as Lucian and the ancient dragoness departed, their figures gradually fading from view beyond the encampment.
The two traveled until the land opened into a vast, empty plain.
Lucian inhaled deeply, feeling the still air. Then, focusing his will, he channeled magic into the sacred seal of the ancient dragons that hung from his hand.
He recalled the sensation from yesterday—how Selinsax had guided him, showing him how to weave his power through divine rhythm.
Lightning crackled.
A scarlet arc burst forth from his right hand, dancing across his skin.
Red thunder coiled around him like living veins of fire.
Selinsax' eyes widened. "Ara… you've already mastered it?"
"To use the Ancient Dragon's Incantations alone, and so soon—Master, you surpass even my expectations."
Lucian smiled faintly, watching the red lightning crawl over his arm.
"I just remembered the feeling from yesterday," he said. "Once you understand it, it comes naturally."
"By the way—this red lightning of yours… is it your own creation?"
Selinsax lifted her chin proudly. "Mhm. My own, indeed. Not quite as grand as the names that echo through the ages—but it has its strength."
Lucian nodded. Her red lightning resembled Vyke's in form, the divine thunder of the dragon kind. Likely, their effects were similar—but the blessings differed.
Selinsax's blessing granted lightning power and strength with no drawbacks.
Vyke's, derived from Lansseax and Fortissax, raised lightning affinity and carrying capacity but reduced resistance to lightning itself.
Such "Blessing"-type incantations were among the higher tiers of incantations—rare and coveted.
Curiosity flickered in Lucian's eyes.
"So," he asked, "among the ancient dragons, how strong would you say you rank?"
Selinsax twirled a lock of silver hair between her fingers, smiling thoughtfully.
"Hmm… let's see."
"Of course, I can't compare to the truly mighty ones—the greats who fought against the Golden Order long ago."
"Elder Dragon Gransax, Lansseax and Fortissax, those sibling titans—they are legends among our kind."
"Gransax's body was said to rival mountains in size. His vast frame alone gave him dominance over nearly all foes."
"As for Lansseax and Fortissax, though smaller in form, their power was scarcely less."
She laughed softly, shoulders rising in modest pride.
"As for me, well… among the common kin, I am somewhat exceptional. In both size and lightning, I belong to the upper ranks. That was why I was permitted the role of a missionary."
"Still," she admitted, "compared to the true lords among dragons, I am far beneath them."
Lucian nodded slowly. He had a clear picture now—Selinsax was no mere beast but a powerful member of her ancient race.
"Speaking of size," he mused, "are the differences really that great among dragons?"
In the game, only the "Great Ancient Dragon" was colossal; the others had identical models, merely re-skinned.
Selinsax chuckled. "Oh, indeed. Our sizes vary enormously."
"The largest, Gransax himself—his form is like a mountain range. Others, born smaller, could be half my size or less."
Lucian listened in quiet fascination, the red lightning still dancing faintly across his arm as the wind howled through the vast, empty plain.
"Besides their size, the forms of the ancient dragons also vary quite a bit."
Selinsax recalled the many aberrations among her kind.
"Some dragons are simply born different. Normally, we are four-legged and four-winged, but sometimes one may be born with extra limbs—or missing some entirely. Such things are not unheard of."
"As long as one bears stone-like scales and possesses an eternal life, we acknowledge them as kin. To us, that is what it means to be a dragon."
Lucian could only imagine those strange, variant dragons she spoke of, yet he understood their logic.
After all, even their Dragonlord had five heads. Who would dare say he wasn't a true dragon merely because he looked different?
Compared to physical form, it was the eternal life and stone scales that truly defined their race.
Lucian brought his focus back to the real task at hand.
"All right," he said. "Let's begin the lesson."
Selinsax thought for a moment, then asked:
"Come to think of it, Master, you've used the power of lightning before, haven't you? I can still sense traces of it clinging to you."
Lucian nodded.
"I once wielded a weapon imbued with lightning. I even engraved it with the Lightning Slash Ash of War. I've used it many times."
Selinsax nodded in understanding.
"I see. In that case, let's start with Lightning Strike, one of the fundamental incantation of the ancient dragon faith. Lightning Strike and Lightning Slash draw from nearly the same power. Both are among the most basic techniques in our doctrine."
She then began to instruct him—step by step, hand over hand.
By the end of half a day's training, Lucian had fully mastered Lightning Strike, Lightning Spear, and Honed Bolt.
That would suffice for today.
Though he still had energy to spare, there was no need to rush and finish everything at once.
Lucian decided that next, he would take Selinsax to Caelid.
Partly to survey the route from the Siofra River exit well to Sellia, Town of Sorcery, from above and plan their path…
And partly because he wanted Selinsax to see the Lands Between once more—after spending so long underground, she deserved to feel the open air again.
Since the Drakeblood Knights had made camp right near the well's entrance, it was easy for them to find the lift.
It wasn't a long walk, so Lucian didn't ask Selinsax to return to her dragon form to carry him.
He actually liked walking during travel—it gave him time to think.
Along the way, they encountered a few Ancestral Followers.
When those natives of the underground saw Lucian and Selinsax, they stepped back and quickly disappeared from sight, as if fearful.
Lucian sighed. He'd specifically instructed the Tarnished who ventured here not to pick fights with the locals, but it seemed there had still been clashes.
Still, he believed most of the Tarnished were obedient enough—there were Stormhawks patrolling the skies, watching over them.
If anyone had blatantly disobeyed his orders and attacked, he would have heard of it by now.
Most likely, it was the Ancestral Followers who had struck first, trying to defend their lands.
The later arrival of the Drakeblood Knights must have given the Tarnished extra confidence, emboldening them.
Whatever had happened, there were likely many bodies left behind.
Lucian shook his head. True harmony among races was still a distant dream.
He couldn't help but wonder—what sort of place was Miquella's Haligtree really?
How had Miquella managed to gather so many races—many of whom bore hatred for one another, and forge peace among them?
Within the lands under his control, coexistence between races was going smoothly for now.
Only Castle Morne, still haunted by the memory of rebellion, rejected hybrids.
But in the future, when more races joined their ranks, the conflicts between them would only sharpen.
Some races, after all, were born hating each other.
It would be one of the hardest problems to solve, and Lucian still hadn't found a real answer.
"Haah… troublesome," he muttered.
Why was it that in novels, every protagonist who got isekai'd suddenly knew everything?
Astronomy, geography, even science and politics—they could do it all.
Meanwhile, Lucian had done nothing but fight since arriving here.
When it came to things like building materials, gunpowder, glassmaking, papermaking—he laughed just thinking about it.
'The materials here aren't even the same as Earth's,' he mused. 'And besides, this world already has its own substitutes for everything.'
No, it would be far better to discover talented people within the Lands Between itself, let them shape the future with their own hands.
This world had to be governed in its own way.
Still, maybe he should visit Miquella's Haligtree someday.
He'd already found the Consecrated Snowfield, after all.
Miquella's gift was the ability to inspire goodwill, Lucian had seen firsthand the power of the Bewitching Branch.
It made him wonder: was the peace at the Haligtree simply the result of Miquella's personal charm, uniting the races through sheer empathy?
But no, that didn't quite add up.
Even after Miquella was taken by Mohg in the game's timeline, the Haligtree still maintained its peace.
And in this reality, Miquella had been seen again after the Battle of Aeonia…
Could his influence truly persist across such distance?
As those thoughts circled his mind, Lucian and Selinsax arrived at the lift.
He inserted a Stonesword Key into the imp statue's seal, reactivating the mechanism.
Blue runes of power lit up along the floor as the lift came to life.
They stepped aboard, rising past glittering stars and shadowed stone until they emerged into a canyon in Caelid.
Selinsax gazed up at the long-lost sky with quiet awe.
The view was narrow from the canyon's depth, yet even so, the Erdtree's golden boughs stretched above them, blotting out half the heavens.
Even Caelid's fiery red sky seemed dim beside it.
Selinsax whispered, overcome,
"So that's the Erdtree… magnificent. I can feel its power from here."
Lucian followed her gaze toward the shining branches.
"Yes, that's the Erdtree."
She tilted her head upward.
"The power of the Golden Order… It's far stronger than I imagined. I once thought it just another fleeting dynasty among many."
Lucian nodded. Indeed, the Erdtree's reign was one of the mightiest in the Lands Between.
Its doctrine of eternity and order, backed by unmatched military strength, had forged a kingdom unlike any other.
At the far end of the canyon, a massive silhouette loomed—the Great Jar, standing guard at the gates of Caelid's colosseum.
Lucian pointed toward a high cliff.
Selinsax immediately understood, transforming back into her dragon form.
Lucian climbed onto her back, and with a powerful sweep of her four wings, they surged upward into the open sky.
The sheer speed of her ascent made Lucian marvel again at how swiftly true dragons could fly.
Selinsax soared wide and free, circling through the vast crimson sky.
Then suddenly, her voice rang out, panicked—
"M–Master!" she cried. "Is this… Caelid?!"
Lucian was taken aback.
She actually recognized the place?
He thought it was the Scarlet Rot that startled her.
"Yes," he said. "Because of a war long ago, Caelid was changed. The Scarlet Rot spread everywhere, it's become like this now. I understand your surprise—"
But her next words froze him.
"No, it's not the Rot. What happened to the Jagged Peak by Caelid's border? Was it destroyed in that war?"
"That mountain was enormous… How could it just vanish?"
Lucian blinked, his mind going blank.
Jagged Peak?
He had never heard of such a place.
It sounded like a region, sure—but there was no area by that name in the game.
Quickly, he asked,
"Jagged Peak? What do you mean? It was near Caelid's border?"
Selinsax looked shocked that he didn't know.
She pressed, "Eh? The Jagged Peak! The place where the Drakes roosted—the spiked peaks we ancient dragons once tried to reclaim! The home of the lesser drakes!"
Lucian was utterly dumbfounded.
The dragons' resting grounds were supposed to be the Dragonbarrow, weren't they?
There had never been any "Jagged Peak" in his memory.
Swallowing hard, he said,
"Selinsax… can you point to where that mountain used to be?"
She hesitated, uncertain, then raised a claw and pointed north of the Dragonbarrow.
"Uh… if I remember right, it was there. But now—it's all sea…"
Following the direction of her gaze across the great inland sea, Selinsax' expression darkened in disbelief.
"Eh…?"
Not only was the Jagged Peak gone—
An entire stretch of the Lands Between was missing.
"What happened here?" she whispered. "Why has the surface of the world changed so much…?"
—
[T/N: ]
The Jagged Peak is a mountainous region in the Realm of Shadow within the Shadow of the Erdtree DLC, located southeast of the Gravesite Plain and visible from elevated points in the Southern Shore. It is accessible after defeating the Ancient Dragon-Man in the Dragon's Pit dungeon, which is located near the Castle Front Site of Grace, and involves traversing a tunnel to emerge at the Dragon's Pit Terminus Site of Grace before heading southeast toward the mountain. The area is dominated by powerful dragons and drakes, including the optional boss Jagged Peak Drake, and features a Grand Altar of Dragon Communion at its base, tended by a Dragon Communion Priestess who offers quests related to defeating Bayle the Dread, the main boss of the region.