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Elden Ring: Tarnished Flame Vyke

Vyke—the one who accepted the Frenzied Flame to save his Maiden, the Tarnished who nearly became Elden Lord—is reborn. But this time, he is neither of the Lands Between nor the Land of Shadows; he is a soul from Earth, reincarnated as Vyke in the world of Elden Ring, no longer bound by the Frenzied Flame’s influence. /// Tags/Keywords: Main Game Timeline, Forced and Non-Forced Relationships, R18, Dark Fantasy, Reincarnation, Second Chance, Elden Ring AU, Vyke Rebirth, Human from Earth, Epic Quest, Fate and Free Will, Redemption Arc, Power Struggles, Anti-Hero, Dark Magic, Soulslike Themes, Maiden Protection, Elden Lord Quest, Fantasy Violence - R18 - Female Miquella - Harem Patreon: patreon.com/Trinity_189 Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/cloudrythm

Exotica_Pvt · ゲーム
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43 Chs

Chapter 17 Tibia Mariner

"Wait here. I'll go take care of the Tibia Mariner and get the Deathroot it's guarding," he said, slowly drawing the Uchigatana—the katana he had taken from the Catacombs.

She raised an eyebrow. "Wait? Why should I wait? I can take down whatever this Tibia Mariner is."

He shook his head, his voice calm but firm. "You don't have to wait. If you want to help, just take care of the skeletons that gets summoned around here."

She didn't answer right away, her eyes narrowing as she considered his words. She had been guarding the Deathroot for centuries, but this felt different—more like a team effort, like something she hadn't done in ages.

"Fine," she muttered, her tone reluctant but resolute. "I'll watch your back."

With that, he nodded, disappearing into the mist toward the village, the eerie sounds of the Tibia Mariner's haunting chant echoing in the distance.

"Vyke…" she murmured softly to herself, almost as if testing the name. With a quiet sigh, she drew her Black Knife dagger, the blade catching the pale moonlight as she gripped it firmly.

The air grew tense, dark energy swirling around the village as skeletons began rising from the ground.

Her movements were swift and precise—each strike from her dagger clean, cutting through bone and sinew with ruthless efficiency.

The dead fell quickly just as they got summoned, and the ground was soon littered with shattered bones.

Meanwhile, he advanced deeper into the heart of the village, his eyes scanning the eerie surroundings.

There, amidst the mist and decay, the Tibia Mariner appeared—a grotesque, skeletal figure perched upon a boat, its body cloaked in tattered robes.

A massive horn was tied to its side, and it let out a strange, chilling sound as it drifted through the murky waters, its hollow gaze locking onto him.

The Tibia Mariner raised its bony hand, summoning more skeletons from the ground as it began to chant again. He grip tightened on his katana, the blade gleaming in the moonlight. Without hesitation, he charged forward.

He darted around the attack, closing the distance. Each strike he delivered to the Mariner's spectral form was met with resistance, but the creature was slowly weakening.

As the battle continued, the Mariner's hollow eyes flickered with a desperate glow. With one final swing, He cleaved through its chest, severing its skeletal frame in a single fluid motion. The Tibia Mariner crumbled to dust.

He stepped back, his breath steady as he wiped his blade clean. The Deathroot shimmered before him, glowing faintly in the dark.

"Done," he called out, turning toward her.

She finished dispatching the last of the skeletons, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she approached. Her eyes glanced toward the Deathroot, then back at him, her expression unreadable.

"Not bad," she said, the faintest hint of approval in her voice.

He smiled, a playful glint in his eyes as he held out the Deathroot toward her. "Now you have two to protect," he teased, his tone light but laced with a hint of mischief. "Maybe even me to protect, too," he added with a smirk, almost as if daring her to respond.

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, the weight of the Deathroot still in her hands. She didn't immediately take it from him.

"Two to protect?" she murmured, her voice low, as if considering the weight of his words. "Is that what you think? That I'll be keeping you safe now?"

He gave a slight shrug, not backing dow. "You never know," he said with a grin. "Could be more than just the Deathroot out here. Some of us need guarding, too."

She narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on the Deathroot, but there was a flicker of something beneath her usual stoic demeanor—maybe a hint of amusement, or something else entirely. "I've been guarding for a long time. Maybe I'm ready for something else."

He chuckled softly, taking a step back. "You've got two roots now, maybe two tasks. But it's not just about guarding. You're free to decide what you want to do with them."

Her gaze flickered toward the horizon, as if contemplating the future. "And what about you, Vyke?" she asked, her voice soft but serious now. "What do you want?"

His smile softened, and he gave a simple shrug. "To see where this path leads us," he said quietly. "And maybe... to help you find what you've been missing."

"Bye the way can you tell me what is this all about? like you know what does this deathroot do what is it?"

She looked at the Deathroot in her hands, a dark gleam in her eyes as she considered his question. After a moment, she spoke.

"There's something else," she began. "Deathroots… they're not only fragments of the Rune of Death. For those who know how, it's possible to infuse their power into a weapon." She met his gaze, her expression serious. "When death is bound to steel, it has the potential to cause true death—not just an end to life, but an end to existence. Those struck by such a weapon would be erased entirely, beyond resurrection, beyond any chance of returning."

His eyes widened as he absorbed her words. "Real death…" he murmured, as if the concept itself held an unsettling weight. "That kind of power—it's… irreversible, isn't it?"

She nodded. "It's not something to be taken lightly. The Deathroots carry the essence of death itself, untamed and ancient. If you were to imbue a weapon with this, it would become an instrument of absolute destruction. A single cut could sever a soul from existence."

He looked down at his Uchigatana, the idea sinking in, and he let out a low whistle. "So, you've been guarding more than just relics… you've been guarding a weapon that could end anyone—anything—for good."

"Yes," she said, her gaze fixed on him, her expression dark and resolute. "This is why the Deathroots must be protected, and why those who understand their true potential must be careful. In the wrong hands, they could be disastrous."

He nodded slowly, realizing the weight she had been carrying. He glanced at the Deathroot once more, the dark power it held now seeming both more ominous and alluring. "Then it's not just about protecting these… it's about who can wield them. And how."