Damn it. I could barely lift that cursed golden halberd. Still, I was fairly sure that before my last enhancement, I wouldn't have been able to budge it at all. Either way, swinging that oversized monstrosity was out of the question, so I dismissed it back into the desert. The same went for the guardian's armor and shield. All of it was far too large for me, but who knows? Someday it might come in handy.
At least I could breathe easier—Renni wouldn't murder me for losing her wolves. The two phantom beasts hadn't been truly destroyed, only temporarily dismissed. Holding the casket with their ashes, I could still feel the faint echo of all three spirits. They only needed time to recover, and then they'd be ready to fight again. Though against enemies like the tree guardians, they weren't exactly effective—little more than distractions. And even then, the mounted knight hardly paid them any mind.
Fine. Time to look around some more.
I summoned Torrent. It took a few tries, but eventually I managed to climb into the saddle—helped by the horse itself, who obligingly knelt to make it easier for me. She was sharper than most people I'd met, and I barely had to guide her at all. I simply told her where I wanted to go, and she understood.
So I rode down the road, nearly circling back to the crypt. From there I climbed a hill, touched grace, and shifted to the temple. This time, I decided to scout the western lands. I crossed a plateau and came to a cliff.
"Whoa… and what the hell is that brute?"
Far below, wandering aimlessly along the slope's road, was an ugly giant. Compared to this creature, the tree guardian seemed less a colossus and more a stunted dwarf. Yet the titan looked emaciated despite its sheer size. Its abdomen was a hollow cavity, as if someone had carved out its stomach, and the remaining flesh clung tight to a spine laced with knotted veins and tendons.
I had absolutely no desire to approach that thing.
So I turned back to the temple and headed east, where another cliff revealed a sprawling swamp. Shapes moved through the murk, though I couldn't make them out. Kale's shop had a spyglass, if memory served.
Oh, and then…
In that same stretch of hills, I stumbled across giant bats. They didn't look especially terrifying—though without the Sands of Time, I wouldn't have dared attack. With time slowed, however, I had the courage to strike. My ability left them helpless, and I speared them one by one, earning a few more runes for my trouble.
Not a bad outing, even if I hadn't learned much. The exploration ate up most of the day, and I returned to the temple late in the evening. By then, every muscle below my waist had gone numb from riding. And I hadn't found a single new site of grace.
As for the runes I'd collected… I resisted the temptation to cash them in. I'd noticed that each new enhancement demanded more and more runes. Better to wait and learn exactly what Melina could improve in me, and what path I should focus on.
For now, it was my second night in this strange world.
"Good night, Melina."
"Hm? Yes… good night to you as well, Faded One."
She didn't lie down. Instead, her form dissolved into smoke.
It took me a while to calm my racing thoughts enough to drift toward sleep. And just as I lingered on the threshold between waking and dreaming, I felt the familiar touch of desert winds. A heartbeat later—
—I was back in the sands.
"Great. So instead of dreams, I'll just keep ending up here, huh? Will I ever get a normal night's sleep?" I asked the emptiness.
Of course, no one answered.
But something unexpected happened. My whole body still ached from riding all day, and lying on the hard ground was torture. That longing for comfort spilled outward—and the sand beneath me rose and shifted into the shape of a soft bed. I couldn't resist flopping onto it, marveling at its surprising softness.
"Now that's more like it…"
Rested, I began experimenting.
Here, in this dream-desert, the Sands obeyed me far more readily. Not only could I slow time, I could also mold the sand into tangible forms. It gathered into dense clumps, fusing into bricks. On a whim, I stacked them into a small wall. Then I got carried away and built an entire house—a simple hut, really, four walls and a roof.
I punched holes in the walls for windows. Crude, but serviceable. What else could I do?
I recalled how I'd awakened last time, sinking into a sand vortex that led back to the temple. I tried conjuring another portal—
A wild thought struck me. Could I return to Earth the same way?
No. The sand didn't respond to that request. But I did discover something remarkable: from here, I could freeze time in the Lands Between. The flicker of the bonfire seen through the vortex halted whenever I willed it. And unlike in the waking world, I spent no strength here, as though I could hold that suspension forever. Or perhaps I wasn't truly freezing their time, but warping it within this desert realm. Logical, perhaps—but it felt like I'd stopped time itself.
No need to rush, then.
Still, I realized I couldn't both control time and shape the sand at once. Letting the bonfire's flame resume flickering, I focused again on the grains themselves.
Slowly, deliberately, the sand coiled up to my hand, forming into a rough spear. Too crude, too shapeless. I pressed my will into it, refining the image in my mind. The weapon drank in more and more sand until it finally emerged as a finished spear—long, gleaming, golden.
I hefted it, gave it a few test swings, then drove it back into the ground. At once, more sand swirled toward it, saturating the weapon. This time its color darkened, bronze streaking across the shaft and head. Heavier now, with a weight that promised real impact.
At first it had been far too light—unwieldy, ironically, because it lacked heft. Now, though, it balanced perfectly. A weapon I could truly wield.
Still, something was missing. The blade wasn't sharp enough. Dense sand, yes—more like carved stone than true steel. I coaxed the grains to narrow into an edge, but it was only passable. Strong enough to pierce with brute force, but lacking finesse.
I dove deeper into experimentation, trying to alter the sand's very nature. To my surprise, the grains didn't just harden—they fused into crystal. Glass, perhaps.
Yet shaping glass was harder. Destroying it back into sand, I tried again, molding the crystalline flow into a proper spearhead. This time, the edge was sharper, though fragile. But even broken shards would cut. Comparable, at least, to the merchant's dagger I'd bought earlier.
Satisfied for now, I finished my weapon: a shaft of fused sand, crowned with a glassy blade. I also crafted a dozen knives—sand handles, glass edges.
By dawn, I'd built nothing truly groundbreaking, but I'd learned how to create all manner of simple shapes. Columns, pyramids, geometric figures—even a rough statue of Melina. Though I lacked the patience for detail, her likeness stood in vague, sandy outline.
Through the portal, the sky of the Lands Between was already paling with dawn.
Honestly, I was getting tired of playing with sand anyway. Time to wake up.
"Hmm… not a wink of real sleep," I muttered, rising in my body again.
Though oddly, I'd been in the same body in the desert, yet also seen it from afar through the vortex. Strange.
That nagging unease lingered—this power was too vast, and I knew too little about it. Maybe the study of local sorcery would help me understand my own abilities better.
For now…
Leaving Marika's temple, I set out north along the trail Renni had pointed me toward. On the way, I pricked my finger again, drawing a few drops of blood to summon more Sands of Time. I wanted to test whether I could call forth the weapons I'd forged in the desert. And sure enough, a golden whirlpool formed, delivering my spear and glass dagger.
I strapped the dagger to my belt, where loops for throwing knives were waiting, and carried the spear in hand. Testing it, I drove the tip hard against a boulder.
"Hah!?"
The glass head proved tougher than expected. It carved a white gouge in the rock without shattering. A real weapon, then.
And more than that—it still radiated the power of the Sands. Even holding it in my hand strengthened me, though not as much as pure sand did. That meant I could preserve its essence in physical form, ready at need. A thought struck me—the resemblance to a certain prince and his magic dagger was uncanny.
Could I store sand itself in a vessel here, keeping it raw and unshaped? Another experiment for later.
For now, the forest path ahead was stirring. Among the trees, I glimpsed soldiers patrolling—warriors in armor draped with half-and-half banners. One half crimson, bearing a silver lion, the same emblem I carried. The other half green, painted with the golden Erdtree. Two symbols, two colors, fused into one standard.
What did it mean?
Regardless, like with the tree guardian, I didn't avoid them. I stepped into their path.
I admit—I was becoming addicted to runes. The strength they gave was tangible, intoxicating. And while these foes looked human…
"Graaaah!" one howled, yanking his blade free.
…they behaved like zombies.
Their helmets left their withered, gray faces exposed. No spark of reason shone in their dark eyes, and their movements were heavy, sluggish.
Not nearly as dangerous as the guardian, so I chose not to invoke time. I needed real combat practice. Worst case, I could always rewind.
Perhaps once, this man had been a capable fighter. Perhaps not. But he didn't even flinch as I lunged with the spear. He simply raised his sword for a strike.
But a spear's thrust is swifter than a sword's swing.
The glass head punched through his chest, piercing the leather under his banner. Petal-like flanges bit into his torso, stopping the weapon from sinking too deep. I yanked it free and stepped back.
"Uhh…" he wheezed, collapsing as his sword clattered from his hand.
Unlike the guardian or the spider, he didn't vanish. His corpse simply remained.
I suspected a trick. The demi-humans had faked death before. So I stabbed him again. And again. His body jerked under the blows but offered no resistance. Then golden light bled from his wounds, symbols of runes streaming into me.
The next two soldiers were harder.
The second seemed just as unresponsive—until, in the final instant, awareness flickered in his eyes. He dodged aside, letting my spear miss, then lunged forward. His sword slipped beneath my ribs, angled cruelly upward toward heart and lungs.
The pain was blinding, unbearable.
Then his iron gauntlet smashed across my face.
The blow jarred my soul loose from my flesh—and with it, the pain vanished. My spirit, free, could command the Sands. This time I didn't take chances. Time slowed, and vengeance was sweet as I struck him down in return.
Still, I wasn't certain these soldiers truly died.
Melina had mentioned the Rune of Death. I'd need to ask her more about it.
Wandering further, I stumbled across a campfire near a cavern. And, like any good RPG player, the explorer in me stirred. I couldn't resist a dungeon entrance.
Inside, grace greeted me, linking this place to the others. Convenient.
The tunnels were pitch-black, though. Problem solved easily: I called on the spear's sand, preparing to wield its power without releasing it. The weapon flared with golden light, illuminating the passage.
"Awooo!" a startled howl echoed ahead.
I entered a chamber and found myself surrounded by wolves—large, hungry, and watching the glow of my spear. No need to test my reflexes here. Time slowed, and I skewered them one by one.
The chamber also held a corpse with a dagger, a stool, and some sacks. Nothing worthwhile.
Deeper still, another cavern awaited.
"Now that's ugly…"
A hulking beast slumbered there—a warped mix of man and hound, stooped and clutching a great curved sword.
Once more, time broke the fight. I overwhelmed it easily, its body crumbling into ash. Among the remains, I found an amulet shaped like a shield, marked with flame.
Back at the grace, I called for Melina.
"Yes, I'm here, Faded One," she said, appearing at my side.
"Do you know what this is?" I held up the talisman.
"Ah, the Fire Dragon Talisman," she nodded.
Indeed, the etched design resembled a dragon's outstretched wings.
"A pretty trinket."
"It still holds the power of the ancient dragons," Melina said. "Keep it close, and perhaps it will shield you from flame."
"Perhaps?"
"Perhaps."
I pocketed it.
"Another thing—some foes vanish when slain, others don't. Why?"
"The Erdtree rejects them," she sighed. "Their souls will not find rest until Order is restored. They've lived too long and died too often. Their spirits are fractured by madness, yet their bodies rise again and again."
"So… they'll be back soon?"
"Yes."
Ah. Monster respawns explained.
"One more question. I heard the Great Runes drove the demigods insane. If even they couldn't bear them, what chance do I have?"
"By claiming the runes, they broke Order," Melina explained. "But you, as a Tarnished, were summoned by the Greater Will. You are free of that corruption. So long as you follow the path grace reveals, the Great Runes will serve you."
"Wait—are they sentient?"
"A fragment of the Greater Will still dwells within them."
"Right. Totally clear. I think."
Her brow arched, amused.
"So as long as I gather them to restore the Elden Ring, they won't drive me mad?"
"Yes."
In that case, before I went rune-hunting, I needed to train. Learn these lands. Sharpen my weapon skills. Study their sorcery, their prayers. And above all, master the Sands of Time. This power was staggering, but I couldn't shake the sense I was only scratching the surface. Like playing an RPG without realizing every gun has an alternate fire mode. I had no manual for this gift—only trial and error. But even in this crude state, it was a cheat code. Time itself bent to me.
After resting, I left the cavern, wandered the woods, and returned to the road.
More of Godrick's soldiers lurked ahead. Facing them reminded me: I had runes aplenty saved up. Time to see what I could actually buy with them. But instead of heading back, I decided to keep going until I found another grace.
Walking was exhausting, though.
So I called Torrent again.
My backside instantly remembered its grievances with the saddle. The discomfort made me yearn for my sand-bed, and—
Grains spilled from the spear's shaft, swirling into a golden vortex before me.
"Oh…"
The familiar portal. The same one that had always taken me back to the desert realm.
Except this time, I was still awake, still in my own body. I could choose to step through.
Exactly what I'd been wondering earlier. The sand could do so much, and I'd barely scratched the surface. Maybe I wasn't clever enough to imagine all its uses yet.
Shaking my head, I sighed—and stepped into the portal.