After leaving the Waypoint Ruins, Gawain steered away from the main road and stepped onto the surface of Agheel Lake. He intended to follow this path to Murkwater Cave to find Patches, and perhaps see if he could run into Bloody Finger Nerijus and Yura.
Though his previous crossing of the lake had been a source of irritation due to the various nuisances lurking in the waters, things were different now. With Torrent to carry him, his pace was significantly faster.
However, an eyesore soon appeared in his field of vision. A group of "Golden People"—citizens of the Lands Between whose faces were indistinguishable from those of Hollows—had gathered to light a bonfire. They knelt in a circle, praying and calling out to the sky as if pleading for something.
Gawain knew these people had been tortured by the curse of eternal life until their sanity had frayed. They were hoping for the dragon's flames to grant them a final, swift end.
Following the Night of the Black Knives and Marika's shattering of the Ring, the cycle of "returning to the roots" had been broken by these systemic glitches. Consequently, the people influenced by the Golden Order could no longer experience a normal cycle of life and death. Even when their bodies were broken and decayed, they continued to live on.
Many of the slimes found crawling throughout the Lands Between were actually the remains of these Golden People—digested by beasts and excreted, yet still "alive" and wriggling as mindless sludge.
Of course, the Lands Between hosted other cycles of death. There were the Ancestral Followers, who saw new life budding from death, and the primitive faith of the Deathbirds, who used ghostflame to baptize souls after the body perished. These systems existed outside the Erdtree's framework, but they had gradually withered since the Golden Lineage unified the land.
"At least don't seek death right in my path," Gawain muttered. "You're going to draw that dragon over."
Just as he was considering whether to step in and grant them their release himself, the very thing he wanted to avoid happened. A massive shadow swept across the sky—the namesake of the lake, Flying Dragon Agheel.
It seemed his luck in avoiding the dragon near the Dragon-Burnt Ruins last time had finally run out. He couldn't bypass it this time. Still, facing a single dragon on his own wasn't particularly difficult for him now; it would just be a waste of time. To be honest, he didn't hold "Dragon Communion" in high regard anyway.
Cursing his luck, he flipped off his horse and drew the Dragonslayer Swordspear. This wasn't a weapon transposed from the Nameless King's soul; rather, it was the original version he had claimed directly from the God of War himself after defeating him in a fair duel.
Aside from "sources of all evil" like Sulyvahn—whom he had crushed into soul-dust out of pure spite—most of the enemies he had defeated were still tucked away in his inventory as souls. The few exceptions were wretches like Oceiros, whose souls were necessary to forge the Moonlight Greatsword.
For the most part, he could simply use the equipment taken from his opponents, having a blacksmith modify the size if necessary. There was rarely a need to transpose souls into gear.
He looked at the long-absent weapon. In the world of Dark Souls, it was peerlessly effective against dragon-kin. Since he had used it against Midir in the Ringed City, it had sat unused for a long time.
Though the Nameless King had eventually befriended dragons, this legendary weapon from the Age of Gods still bore the stains of dragon blood. It carried the traces of the ancient war that had birthed the Age of Fire, and the descendants of those ancient dragons felt a primal terror of it etched into their blood.
"Most lightning incantations in the Lands Between come from the ancient dragons of Farum Azula," Gawain mused. "I wonder if my old-school methods will work on you wyverns. Let's find out."
The shadow in the sky grew closer. Suddenly, a blast of searing dragon-fire erupted from above, incinerating the Golden People huddled around the bonfire in an instant.
Gawain stood on the shallows, the cold lake water washing over his iron boots. Agheel's shadow loomed over him, and the wind pressure from the dragon's wings tore two white, churning furrows into the surface of the lake. The charred remains of the Golden People were still smoldering, their acrid smoke drifting into the air.
With a sweep of its powerful tail, Agheel turned. Seeing one last human intruder standing in its domain, the dragon let out a low growl. Flames began to pool in its throat once more, and a dark red light leaked from the gaps between its scales.
Gawain calculated the range of the dragon-fire based on the previous attack. He rolled to the side just as the lake water beneath his feet vaporized instantly. The shockwave of the explosion was slightly greater than he had anticipated; he twisted his body in mid-air, thrusting his spearspear into the silt of the lakebed to arrest his momentum.
He looked up to see Agheel's claw coming down toward him. He raised the swordspear and parried the strike, the force of the impact pulverizing the nearby ruins into dust.
A surge of intense lightning gathered at the tip of the Dragonslayer Swordspear. Gawain took a low stance and lunged, dragging the blade across the dragon's neck. Because he lacked the power of Titanite to fully enhance the weapon in this world, the strike didn't pierce through the neck entirely, but it left a deep, jagged wound. No blood dripped out, as the flesh had already been charred and cauterized by the lightning.
Agheel let out a pained, frantic roar. It began to strike out wildly, attempting to crush the human scurrying beneath it.
Gawain was no stranger to such frenzied attacks. He had seen countless variations of this at Archdragon Peak. When he had finally arrived there, he had discovered that the "peak" didn't just house one dragon—it had the density of the Dragon Aerie from the second game!
Heaven only knew how many wyverns he had slaughtered before reaching the Great Bell to summon the Nameless King.
As such, the moment Agheel lifted a limb, Gawain knew exactly what the next move would be. His reactions were flawless.
Gradually, Agheel's body became riddled with wounds. Every one of Gawain's strikes dealt severe damage; the Dragonslayer Swordspear existed for the sole purpose of slaying dragon-kin.
After its hind leg was slashed once more, Agheel seemingly couldn't take any more. It sprayed a desperate, haphazard burst of dragon-fire at the ground before beating its massive wings, attempting to flee. If its wings were crippled, there would be no escape.
"Hmph. You think you can just run after offending the Ashen One? I'll give you a five-hundred-meter head start. Let's see if you can tank this."
Gawain planted the Dragonslayer Swordspear into the lakebed. As Agheel ascended into the sky, he pulled a white stone from his inventory.
He crushed it. Instantly, the phantasmal claws of two ancient dragons appeared at his sides. His skin turned dark and coarse, much like the dragons of old. Massive horns sprouted from his head, and he let out a roar into the air. Enveloped in a crimson aura and fueled by the power of the Twinkling Dragon Torso Stone, he was temporarily transformed into a dragon.
"You are a dragon, but I am more of a dragon. Behold the power of the Ancient Dragons!"
He activated the skill of the Grafted Blade Greatsword. His Faith had reached 35 points—still not enough for the 40 required for Sunlight Spear, but he had a much more suitable miracle at his disposal.
Agheel, desperately flapping its wings to escape, felt a sudden chill and looked back. For a moment, it nearly forgot how to fly.
The human who had just humiliated it was now fully draconic. Moreover, the man was gathering two massive pillars of lightning in his hands, aiming directly at the dragon. Sensing a mortal threat, Agheel tried to accelerate, but it was too late.
"Try this! The miracle inherited from Gwyn by the Nameless King: Great Lightning Spear. Get down here!"
The two Great Lightning Spears struck Agheel's relatively fragile wings with unavoidable speed and precision. With a mournful shriek, the dragon plummeted, crashing heavily into the lake. Though it hadn't reached a great height before being shot down, the impact was nonetheless devastating.
Gawain picked up his swordspear. A flash of white light enveloped him, and his appearance returned to normal. High-level healing miracles were essentially techniques that rewound time; he didn't need to die to shed his ancient dragon form.
He walked up to Agheel. The dragon was panting heavily, staring at him with a gaze full of intense hatred. Something occurred to him, and he stayed his hand before delivering the final blow.
"How many dragons must you have slaughtered to attain such a form?"
The dragon actually spoke in human tongue. Gawain was momentarily surprised, though it fit his theory that these beasts were sentient, intelligent creatures.
He paused for a moment, then adopted a look of supreme, "Dio-like" confidence.
"Do you remember how many pieces of bread you have eaten?"
Agheel's eyes, the size of kettlebells, widened in terror. This human is dangerous. It's truly over for me.
"Since you understand human speech, let me ask you: Why did you bother me?" Gawain asked. "I wasn't here to hunt you. I was just passing through."
"What?! You weren't here specifically to slay me?"
"Not initially. But since you delivered yourself to me, that's another matter."
Gawain looked at the despondent Agheel. He found he no longer had the desire to kill the creature. Instead, he considered taking it as a mount—a bit of "Nameless King" cosplay.
The primary reason for this idea was his knowledge that Ranni also kept a Glintstone Dragon, Adula, who had become her fiercely loyal knight after being defeated. The dragons of the Lands Between weren't entirely unreasonable. Since this one could speak, he could afford to show mercy—and a dragon might be useful for the upcoming assault on Stormveil.
He gathered lightning at the tip of the Dragonslayer Swordspear once more and pointed it at Agheel's eye.
"I will give you one choice to live. Submit to me and follow my orders. If you do, I'll overlook the fact that you attacked me."
Agheel fell silent. Realizing it had no power to refuse, it conceded. The battle had thoroughly crushed its spirit.
The human could have killed it before it even had the chance to fly if he'd wanted to. Moreover, he seemed far more powerful than those wretched "Dragon Communion" practitioners. Perhaps... it wouldn't be bad to have such a powerful patron?
"Very well," Agheel grunted. "I will follow your commands. Can you... move the weapon away now?"
Gawain nodded with satisfaction and stowed the spear. He wasn't a monster; the future he envisioned for Agheel wasn't a bad one.
"From the look of you, you must have mistaken me for a Dragon Communion hunter. Have you been attacked by them before?"
With the immediate threat of death removed, Agheel relaxed slightly. It tried to heave its massive body upright, but the holes blasted through its wings made the movement awkward.
"There have always been Dragon Communion hunters," Agheel said. "They often trespass into my domain to attack. Some even disguise themselves as human commoners. That is why I loathe any human who enters these waters."
It looked toward the silhouette of Stormveil Castle, its tone dripping with hatred. It even let out a small puff of flame.
"And the demigod in that city... I watched him slay one of my smaller, weaker kin and haul the carcass into the castle. It happened only recently."
Gawain knew that was likely the dragon Godrick used for his grafting in the story. From its size, it must have been a runt among the wyverns.
"In that case, I'll give you an opportunity. You will join me in storming Stormveil. I want you to use your dragon-fire to help me break those gates."
Agheel flapped its ruined wings helplessly and gave him a reproachful look.
"Then your plan will have to wait a very long time."
"Is that all? Lie still."
Gawain drank from his Flask to recover his mana. His Sacred Chime emitted a soft, radiant light that enveloped Agheel. Not only were the fresh wounds from their fight mended, but even the old, lingering scars left by previous hunters vanished.
"You humans... you can do such things? What is this power?"
Agheel was stunned. It had assumed its flying days were over, or at least far off in the uncertain future.
"Honestly, why do you have to be so big? Healing you was exhausting," Gawain grumbled. "And don't misunderstand—this is a miracle only I can perform. Since you're healed, follow me faithfully from now on. I'm not fond of those Dragon Communion freaks either; they usually go mad and turn into 'Magma Wyrms' anyway."
"But... was your form earlier not the result of Dragon Communion?"
"Of course not. If it were, your heart would be in my stew pot by now. Understand?"
Agheel flattened itself against the ground, thoroughly cowed. After seeing the man's methods, it didn't dare raise any further objections.
Gawain looked at the massive dragon and furrowed his brow. A giant dragon acting so submissive was... a bit of an eyesore.
"So, can you take a human form? I've heard some Ancient Dragons can disguise themselves as humans. Do it. Now!"
"Ah... me?" Agheel stammered. "Master, as you said, that is a feat only Ancient Dragons can achieve. I am but a lowly descendant. I have not mastered such difficult abilities."
Gawain felt a flash of disappointment. He had assumed the wyverns could transform as well. But then, an idea struck him. He pulled out a Young White Branch.
"Here. Use this. Let's see if we can camouflage you into a human."
Agheel didn't know what the white branch was, but it obediently took it into its mouth. Instantly, the dragon's massive body was enveloped in a cloud of mist. A human figure emerged from the haze.
Gawain stared at the "human" Agheel for a moment, speechless. This was not at all the image he had expected.
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