Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I doubt you could even imagine it.

That which  commanded  the stars. Giving life its fullest brilliance.

The Elden Ring.

O,  Elden Ring .

Shattered, by someone. Or  something .

Don't tell me you don't see it.

Look up at the sky. It burns.

Rise, ye Tarnished. Travel through the fog, to the Lands Between. Struggle, fight, die. Claim glory and power, and carve your saga into the stone of ages.

By right of conquest, take what is yours.

It awaits you.

ELDEN RING

From the moment the first trailer was revealed, it spread like wildfire. A game that, even from a cutscene with no gameplay, threatened to take the world by storm.

Elden Ring.

You couldn't go on the internet without its name popping up somewhere. It ranked in the top spot on each 'anticipated game' list. Entire forums were dedicated to dissecting every frame of every trailer its developer team released, and every stray comment would get turned into a bible's worth of crackpot theories.

A game made by the same team that created the most brutal and punishing game trilogy of all time. Almost nothing was known about the team, and they only sent spokesmen for events. Shrouded in mystery, but their games were so high-quality none questioned them.

When the first gameplay reveal was announced, the jaws of every gamer - be they casual, pro, or newb - on the planet dropped into the earth's core. An open world filled with ruins, monsters, and magic. The combat, methodical but fast, the spells wild and varied. It was unlike anything they'd seen before. A take on what many considered an oversaturated genre by masters.

Bit by bit, story and lore details were leaked as well. A land shattered by war, of demigods and old powers lurking in the background. The Elden Ring, which nobody knew what it was, was broken. The players were Tarnished, chosen warriors resurrected from death. Sent through fog to explore the lands and find this mysterious Ring.

The lore geeks were on cloud nine and composed essays and theses on that simple premise alone.

There were skeptics, of course, taking one look at the game and, while acknowledging its stunning visuals, wrote it off as another attempt by its genre. Others, scarred for life by countless deaths and failures from the studio's previous games, swore they'd have nothing to do with it and returned to farming in their MMOs. Naysayers and trolls who lambasted others for riding hype trains and telling everyone how they'd laugh at their inevitable disappointment and forge the cruelest of memes.

But as wise Galileo said on his deathbed, "Nevertheless, it moves."

With every tick of the countdown clock, more and more people caught wind of this latest sensation in gaming. Anticipation was rife, theory wars ran rampant, and sick days were planned for convenience.

Then came the day of revelation.

It performed beyond anyone's expectations. From the first cutscene to the player Tarnished's first steps into the Lands Between, people realized this was a game that would be remembered in the annals of history. Everyone had a favorite starting class, their own unique path. Some followed build guides like bibles, carefully allocating skill points. Others winged it and did what came naturally, picking up weapons and spells until they found ones that fit. There were speedrunners, challenge runners, and all the assorted gamer types that ran wild. The deaths, naturally, induced many a rage clip of smashed keyboards and controllers. A killer boss in the starting area, right next to an important landmark, was a cruel joke.

Yet there was fun to be had, and players across the globe sallied forth on Torrent, the magical horned horse, into the Lands Between. Eager to see magics, slay monsters, and claim the Elden Ring.

Little did they know, there was a far Greater Will at play.

And the world would soon feel its hand.

"YES! IN YOUR FACE, YOU DISGUSTING HAND FETISHIST!"

"Issei! Quiet down, will you?"

The teen winced as his Mom's hollering pierced his headphones. "Sorry!" he shouted back, then slumped in his chair. Flushed with sweat and sporting a face-splitting grin. He'd done it. After the million-and-twelfth time (though it was more like forty-seven), he finally put that bastard Gordick into the ground. He'd wracked his hands for days trying to beat him, and never gotten far. Even with summons and Nepheli-chan, he always wound up dying by the second phase. The music and the screaming were practically seared into his brain from how often he heard them play.

'But I did it. I almost used a summon sign, but I held on! I used it for Agheel and Margit - damn him to every hell - but I swore never again! And it finally paid off! Thank you, Black Flame!'

He almost broke into dance right then and there, but he managed to restrain himself and look on in pride. Right next to his Confessor, with his starting black robe and clutching a broadsword, was Nepeheli Loux, all-around badass and dark-skinned hottie. He'd seen the fanart, read her story, and he knew he had to make sure she lived. Now, if only there were mods to give the girls bigger breasts, she would be perfect.

'Now, time to see what this Godrick's Rememberance is…' he touched the Site of Grace and once he healed up, opened the game map and moved to the Roundtable Hold in the corner. 'I need to thank Matsuda for showing me that shortcut. I wouldn't have been able to use the Prayerbook otherwise.' He felt a bit scummy at first for taking the shortcut, but he convinced himself it was a necessary evil. He needed new Incantations, and those crossbows were skewering him left and right.

'Eugh, I don't like those Fingers, but if this is what they can do - HOLY SHIT, IS THAT A DRAGON FIST?' His jaw dropped as images of punching enemies in the face with a dragon filled his mind. 'Don't mind if I do!'

He immediately swapped out his sword for the dragon fist - the Grafted Dragon - and gave it a few practice swings. Teleporting back to Godrick's Site of Grace, he activated the skill -

'I'm done. This is it, perfect. If only Nepheli-chan were here with me. This game is amazing!'

Issei collapsed on his desk, letting his arms fall to the wayside. He felt his eyes slowly close, weighed down with invisible stones. 'When did I go to sleep last night? Three? I can't be…I don't think I stayed up that much even for porn…'

Before he let sleep's embrace take him though, he forced his head up and stared at the screen, reaching out a hand longingly.

'I should catch some z's. Maybe I can try Caelid first or just head on to…Liurnia? Yeah, that's right. Oh Nepehli, praise the abs…'

…

…

…o fallen leaves

…by the grace of gold…

…awaken and join them…

…

…

"ISSEI!"

"Wha-wha? I'm not watching porn, I swear!"

His eyes shot open and he jumped up from his seat, staring into his mother's face. The boy clutched his heart and exhaled deeply, an incredulous stare quickly forming even in the face of her wrath.

"Don't scare me like that! I could hear you last time!"

"I called you three times already!" she replied with her hands on her hips. "You barely got any sleep last night! What did I tell you about gaming after dark?"

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!" he pleaded. "I just had to finish this boss! I didn't mean to stay up but I always felt so close and I just needed one more -"

"Zip it, mister! You're taking a walk, now! Put on your shoes and get some fresh air. You look like a vampire."

He opened his mouth to reply that he hadn't even cleared the last rooms of Stormveil Castle, but Miki Hyoudou's patented death glare robbed him of his tongue and filled his head with endless visions of slipper-whacking.

"...yes, Mom."

She nodded in triumph and watched him as he dejectedly put on socks and sneakers. Seriously, he couldn't win. He stared outside and winced as the weekend sun cast its rays of judgment on his weary face. 'Ugh…too bright.'

"You know, I've never seen you this obsessed about a game before," she said, leaning on the doorsill. "You go through them in a couple of days, but you've been at this one for more than a week. And it's a different one than your usual…choices." Her emphasis on the last word also showed just how much she approved of said choices.

Ignoring the stab at his visual novels, he chuckled and started tying his shoes. "It surprised me, too. This game's been hyped for a long time, but I didn't pay much attention. When Matsuda showed me the trailers and how excited he was, I kinda got pulled along for the ride. When it finally came out, I couldn't stop playing. Everyone in the school is on it too."

That was a slight overstatement; there were plenty of girl gamers in Kuoh Academy, but a good number didn't like Elden Ring's genre, and they thought it was too hard. So did Issei, until he learned how to 'git gud', as the internet said. Not to mention how addicting it was; not the 'gacha' kind of addictive, but a different kind. The magic, the combat, hell, even the convoluted story, it pulled him in and didn't let go. His friends all understood, which was why they hadn't seen each other outside of school for the past couple of weeks.

"Welp, I'll go out now," he said, hoisting himself off the bed. "You want me to get anything? You wanna check downstairs while I wait?"

"Just get out before your room turns into a sewer," she replied tersely and with no small amount of exasperation. He meekly apologized and quickly hightailed out of the room.

"Oh, the corpse is awake!" his father yelled from behind his newspaper. "Thought I'd have to call the ambulance."

"Really, Dad?" Issei deadpanned. "It wasn't that bad!"

The only response he got was a lowering of the newspaper, which spoke volumes. Issei flinched and left the house before his parents launched another round of teasing.

'Ah, damn you, sun,' he hissed at the sudden brightness. "I just hissed now, didn't I?" he mumbled. "Yeah, maybe I really am turning into a vampire…eh, I'll come back in an hour. I still need to finish clearing the last bits of Stormveil."

Besides, it was a weekend anyway.

So he walked down the street, idly humming Elden Ring's theme under his breath. Mom had a point; when was the last time he was so hyped up about a game?

His walk soon led him to the small park near the town center. A few parents were out with their kids, but it was otherwise tranquil. Feeling a bit sore on his legs, Issei sat down and took in the grass blowing in the wind. On a dare, Motohama and he just popped into Limgrave and ran around Agheel's lake, taking in the scenery, listening to the music and killing foot soldiers. 'Kinda looks like Limgrave if you squint. If Torrent was here, how high could he jump?'

His musings were cut short when his phone suddenly rang with that OVA ringtone he'd set it to long ago. "I should change that - no, I can't betray Taya-chan."

"Yo Issei! Rise and shine! How's progress?"

Issei couldn't help but smirk and leaned on the bench. "Guess who finally caved in the hand fetishist and got a dragon arm as his new weapon?"

Matsuda cackled through the phone and Issei reminded himself that his friend wasn't a mad scientist with a taste for lolicons. Well, he was the latter. "I knew you could do it, bro! How'd you like that Black Flame spell?"

"I think I found my new favorite spell. Seriously, the DoT was a lifesaver."

"Heh, I won't deny the blessings of DoT, and fire's gonna come in handy for ya real soon, but I guarantee you'll drop the fireball the moment you see lightning strike your ass over and over."

"Yeah, rub it in, won't you?" he grumbled, but the smirk never left his face. "What level are you right now?"

"54 and on my way to clearing the Academy," Matsuda replied with no small amount of pride. "I want to check out Caria Manor first, though, I heard about some nasty spells hiding there."

"Whatever you say, just don't rant about it later," Issei said, knowing full well that when the school week started, the boy would be sobbing in the cafeteria.

Matsuda wasn't a speedrunner, but he had this tendency of wandering or straight-up charging into locations that he was really too underleveled for. Many tears of salt and agony were shed over conversations and he refused to hear of any other option.

Granted, the times he succeeded without too many deaths earned him heaps of Runes, the in-game currency, and he used them to level up with gusto and lord his skill over their little group. It was a cycle that Issei and Motohama really didn't know how to break or if they even wanted to.

"So you know how to use that new Great Rune of yours?"

"Hmm? The Great Rune? I don't think so. I have it equipped but it doesn't seem to be doing anything."

"I see," Matsuda replied with a sagely tone. "You go through all of Stormveil? Any rooms missing other than the final stretch to Liurnia?"

Issei moved to answer 'no', but then thought long and hard. "There was an area next to the crossbows at the top of the gate, but I didn't fully check it out."

"Go past there and keep running forward until you reach that long bridge on the map. There are huge enemies there, but if you run fast enough and dodge on time, you'll get to a portal to Godrick's Tower. From there, it's easy pickings."

"Thanks," Issei said and filed the information for later. "I really should stop asking you for advice, it makes me feel kinda spoiled."

"Eh, whatever you say, man. You want the pure experience, I get it, no shame. But it doesn't hurt to look at a guidebook now and then. Those shitty devs don't explain these things well in-game."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Tell me about it. Guess that's part of the charm though, right? See ya, and good luck with the manor."

"Godspeed, brother. Erdtree bless you."

Issei smiled at the farewell and how hooked Matsuda was on the game. He shut off his phone and was about to return it to his pocket when something flashed on the blank screen. Curious, he leaned in for a closer look -

"Huh? What in…?"

Leaning forward for a better look, Issei stretched the skin under his eye and stared at his reflection on the screen. It was hard to tell from the light, but he swore that for a moment, his eyes flashed gold.

"Weird," he mumbled. He blinked, only to see perfectly normal brown reflected in the screen. "Note to self: wash eye-boogers off your face before leaving home." Taking a sniff, he winced at the odour. "And another bath."

He rose from the bench and headed down the parkway, taking in the trees rustling in the wind. A few minutes later, his phone pinged a direct message.

"Let's see what Motohama found this time," he said, pressing the message. His other friend had fallen into Elden Ring's allure as well, but he had a sharper eye on the more physical side effects of the game, namely cosplay.

Barely three weeks in and cosplay of nearly every character imaginable in the game was created, done on every level of the scale, from amateur to Hollywood-worthy. A few of the characters were spoilers, and others were downright baffling to create, like Jar Warriors, but Motohama had an eye for the really special ones. The ones that convinced a person they were the actual character and not a cosplayer.

Melina the maiden was their mutual favorite. There were more cosplays of her than any other character by far (for now).

'Okay, I don't think this one's an NPC, so is this guy cosplaying as his own Tarnished?'

If he was, then he had to tip his hat to the guy; that had to be the best cosplay Issei had ever seen. The armor piece was painted down to the smallest scratch and scuff, and the ornaments looked actually carved in rather than painted. Hell, none of the extensions or plates looked like cardboard. He even had a brown pouch at his side and the tattered loincloth dangling around his waist. Even through the up-close images, Issei could feel the weight of the cuirass.

"Does this guy live next to a blacksmith or something?" he muttered with fascination as he swiped through the images, each showcasing different parts of the armor in detail. His respect for the guy's dedication grew even further when he saw the image of his Highwayman Hood - an item Issei only knew because he'd considered equipping it in the past - and it looked damn near identical to the one in the game, down to the shapes of the stains and the number of tears on the cloth wrappings. He had to pull up the image of the actual item in the game to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. "Or maybe he's loaded. Heh, maybe both?"

And he didn't even get to the picture of the sword yet.

Below the images was a single quote: "Guys, this is legit—all natural, the real deal. If you know, you know. #RISEYETARNISHED"

"Wow, he's really invested. And what's with that tag?" Issei began to type a message to Motohama to ask what was up when a shadow fell over his face, causing him to look away from his phone and blink in surprise. He'd wandered off to the other end of the park, and he didn't even notice. The neighborhood was quieter than the rest, mostly due to its more industrial nature.

"How'd I get here?" he asked, scratching his head. Was he that absorbed in those images?

He was about to turn around when something blurred in the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw the scant trace of something brown disappearing into an alley. Now, normally, being the genre-savvy boy that he was, he would never have gone into a mysterious alleyway on that alone and hightailed it out of there.

But the faint chiming of bells stopped him short. Soft and clear, so close yet ever-distant.

…o golden light…

"...huge red flag, waving isn't necessary," he finally mumbled, approaching the corner. "Hello?" he cried into the dark, but only the whisper of a breeze answered.

And the faint stench of rot.

"Eugh, did someone dump their garbage here?" he winced. He stepped into the alley and ventured into the darkness. As he wandered deeper, faint scrunching scraped against his ears. There, next to a garbage can, a hooded form was hunched over something, and…was he eating it?

'Okay, time to go!' He swiftly turned around and made to leave, only to freeze as a piece of glass crunched under his foot. The chewing halted with all the terrifying force of a cocked gun.

He barely had time to curse when the breath left his body. Fingers as fierce as a vice wrapped around his throat. Issei gasped and spluttered as his feet left the ground. He tried calling for help, but the grip around his throat denied him breathing, let alone speech. Through the growing tears, he saw the hooded figure raise his head and sneer, revealing a narrow face, white hair and slitted yellow eyes.

"Oh…just a human? For a second there, I thought you were one of Gremory's dogs. Heh, how unfortunate for you."

Issei slowly raised his arm to try and grab the man's arm, but it was no use. Black spots began to swim before his eyes as the man cackled in amusement.

"How cute. You think a whelp like yourself can hope to match a devil like me."

'What the hell are you talking about?' Issei frantically thought.

The man - no, it couldn't be, no human was this strong - pulled him closer and inhaled deeply. Nausea filled Issei's head as the stench of garbage and blood flooded his nostrils. The devil's eyes slightly widened, and his sneer slowly morphed into a lunatic grin.

"Hmm, your scent is…unusual for a human. A unique bloodline? Perhaps you won't be a waste after all." He burst into cackling, and Issei whimpered through the total meltdown he was experiencing. "Oh yes, you will do nicely. Rejoice, human, for you shall be my first step on my return to power! Those wretched Satans will regret the day they cast me out!"

Issei started flailing wildly as his panic reached an all-time high. He had to get out of that stupid alley that he stupidly entered and stupidly chatted with an obvious psycho. But his efforts, just as before, accomplished zilch.

…rise…

"Don't bother struggling boy, you'll only make it worse." The grip began to clamp down harder on his throat. "At least die knowing that your insignificant life served the noble calling of your betters. A small token of my generosity."

…rise…

Strength left his limbs as his vision darkened further and tears trickled down his cheeks. This was no nightmare; he was going to die in this wretched alley, alone and forgotten. Would his parents ever find his body? Would there even be a body to find?

I can't die here. I have oppai to touch, parents to say sorry to, games to finish. No, please, don't, I'm sorry I can't die I can't die I can't diediediediediediedie -

…

…Fog. Endless fog.

Cold earth under his feet.

The howling of a breeze he couldn't feel.

Where was he?

Why was it so dark? He couldn't see. Please let him see.

…what was that? Dancing in the dark.

A light. So tiny, so frail. So golden. It landed on his palm, providing no warmth, but he cupped his hands around it, holding it with care.

Dost thou wish to let it go?

No. This was all he had. The only thing in the foul dark.

The light seared his palm and stung. But he refused to let go.

It hurts thee. Why hold on to pain?

It was all he had. What else was there?

Fire bloomed, golden and scorching, dancing wildly and clawing at his wrists.

If thou drop it, it will stop.

The pain was unlike any other. Every fibre of his…being…howled in agony. He couldn't hold it for long. If he did, it would consume him.

…But it was better than the alternative. Better the scorch of agony than an eternity in the dark. As long as he held it, he would see, he would feel. That was worth any price.

…then go forth, upon rays of gold. Go forth into the world anew, and show them thy grip.

The edges of the fog began to clear. Where there was once nothingness, there were now towering pillars and crumbling arches.

Rise, child. Rise with my blessing. Rise with your brethren.

Rows upon rows of stone blocks, intricately carved with scenes of battles past, of war in a forgotten age, revealed themselves. Above a number of the slabs hovered motes of golden light similar to the one he held.

And then…the wails. The cires. The bloodlust. The calls of glory.

The world beckons thee. Thy age is nigh. Set forth!

The song of warriors.

Rise, ye  Tarnished !

The fire roared, conflagrating into an inferno that devoured every inch of his body. A scream tore from his throat as the darkness was torn asunder by the wave of gold erupting from his body. His heart, once dormant, beat with renewed fervour. Blood coursed through his veins with the force of a typhoon. His arm reached out into the void…

…and grasped.

"Hmm? Still alive? No matter, another squeeze will -"

With a roar so primal, the boy known as Issei swung at his tormentor with all his might. The devil's eyes could only widen as something red and heavy impacted his face and lit up the alley with a burst of heat and flame. As he howled in agony and grasped his face, Issei landed with heavy pants, drawing back precious air into his lungs. He raised his arms to rub the bruised area, only to yelp in surprise and stumble back as he stared at his right arm.

Or rather, the dragon's head that covered it.

Issei shook his head to clear his blurry vision and stared at the head, utterly dumbfounded. It almost reached his elbow, sporting tiny wings and ending with a jaw of jagged teeth where his hand was supposed to be. Instinctively, he clenched his fist and the dragon's maw opened, revealing the crooked fangs in all their glory, and a flickering ember shining from inside the mouth.

His hand was still there, just tucked within the head. A small comfort compared to the sheer insanity he was witnessing.

'Why the hell do I have a dragon's head on my arm? Are those actual scales?' He reached with his other hand and froze at the sight of a talisman tied to its back with a cord. Small, circular and sporting a black gem in the middle.

"Hold on," he muttered, peering at both of the…accessories…closely. Now that a measure of coherence had returned to him, they appeared rather familiar.

"Where did I…?"

"A Sacred Gear!" the devil snarled, clutching his face with one hand, though Issei could still make out burn marks from underneath. "Freshly awakened to boot. Of all the rotten…no, I can still do this!" his tone grew desperate, and he dashed toward the boy. "I won't let a fucking ant ruin my return!"

As the devil grew closer at impossible speed, Issei's panic flared again, but this time he didn't freeze. Where once he didn't even have time to breathe before the devil had him in his grasp, now he was moving…slower. Still fast, but not impossible to track. So, instead of taking another blow that would leave him sprawled on the ground, he sidestepped, allowing the devil to pass by him. His opponent's eyes widened for an instant before Issei landed another punch with the dragon head right in his face, viciously dragging the teeth along his face and sending him flying into the wall.

As his attacker yowled and clutched his new wounds, Issei's eyes threatened to pop out of his skull as he stared at the scene breathless. The most he'd ever lifted were a few weights at Motohama's house; nothing like this!

The devil snarled and his fist glowed with crackling red lightning.

"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD HUMAN!"

End this.

Right as the devil's energy-clad fist threatened to cave in his face, Issei snapped his other hand and parried the incoming blow and then used the dragon's head to lock the devil's head in a piercing grip.

End this.

The devil fought and struggled, but the dragon's jaws, much like his earlier grip on Issei's throat, were clenched tighter than steel. He wailed and cursed wildly, and Issei considered it a miracle that no one came looking to see the ruckus. His breath was raspy as indecision rocked him. Part of him wanted to let go, to run far away…but what if the devil followed him? Maybe not out of the alley, but to his home? To his parents?

He'd never forgive himself. But what should he do?

End this.

The devil's fists glowed again, and Issei immediately clamped harder, trying to shut him down -

And out erupted the inferno.

Ten long seconds. Ten seconds of burning, curses and pleading. Drowned amidst the searing flame and bestial howling. But Issei didn't relinquish his grip. Thoughts and a certainty he'd never had before washed over his mind. This devil would die and never endanger him or his family.

Soon, all that remained was a charred husk and the stench of burnt flesh.

For several long moments, Issei took stock of the scene, one that belonged better in a manga than in the real world. Finally, he managed to loosen his grip and the husk crumbled to dust, leaving scorch marks where it once stood. Silence returned to the alley once again, but Issei paled as he realized what he'd just done.

"...I…killed him?"

He lurched and turned around as nausea began to build up. He'd just killed someone. Someone who just tried to kill him, but he killed someone. And not just killed.

"I flambe'd him!" He laughed hysterically. Turned into kindling. A…person, scorched until he was nothing but a crumbling statue of soot.

The boy dry-heaved and almost collapsed against the wall. The sensation of scales rubbing against his skin prevented him from falling to the floor. 'I've gotta get outta here.'

He bolted out of the alley and ran down the street. He barely made it out of the street when he noticed the dragon's head and the talisman were still on him - and the teeth were still dripping blood!

'No, no, I need to get this off!' Issei shook his hand wildly and tried to pry off the dragon, but it refused to budge. He bit back another curse as his eyes darted to and fro, praying to whatever higher power than no one was watching. "Come on, come on, get off me, you stupid -"

In a flash of golden light, the dragon and the talisman vanished from his hands, revealing them as clean as when he woke up.

"...okay. Nope, not dealing with this right now," he said after picking up his jaw. With those words, he ran the rest of the way back home and didn't look back until he stormed through the front door.

"Hi Issei, what's up?"

"NothingImfinegottago!" Issei replied to his father and scrambled up the stairs. When he was finally in his room, he slammed the door behind him and leaned hard.

He exhaled a shuddering breath as he finally slumped to the floor. Images of the past hour flashed through his mind. He wanted to believe it was a nightmare, a hallucination brought upon him by excessive screentime.

But his throat was still bruised, right where the…devil held him, taunted him and…

…no, he didn't die.

'I'm still alive. I'm here. In my room. Miku-chan's poster is on the wall, and Elden Ring is running in my PC's background. I'm okay. I'm okay.'

His hands were bare like before, not a hint that something was ever on them. Even his clothes were unblemished by blood and ash. Under most circumstances, Issei could be forgiven for thinking it was a bad dream.

"Fat chance," he scoffed. Yeah, as much as he wanted to deny it, what happened was very real. The only question was: what now? He'd seen plenty of fantasy anime to know that whatever happened wasn't gonna vanish even if he ignored.

But what could he do? Go out and try looking for more of them? Right after he almost died?

"...I need to think about this," he muttered and rubbed his forehead. This was too much. His gaze then drifted to his computer. "Maybe another game. Mom's gonna give me flak about it, but I'll let future me worry about that." He was also sure that he would curse his past self for foisting his troubles onto his future self, but not at this moment.

He slowly rose from the floor and approached his desk. Sinking into the comfort of his gamer chair, he woke up the PC and was greeted with the sight of his Tarnished near Godrick's Site of Grace. He smiled and let thoughts of where he should travel fill his head. Maybe straight to Liurnia and link up with the Site of Grace he found there; Caelid could come later when he was…

'…hold on.'

Focusing on his Tarnished, rotating the camera around him. He stared at the character and took in his features…and the weapon on his right arm.

'Impossible. There's no way!'

And yet it was right there. He'd somehow dismissed it outside that alley, but he'd never forget it. Slowly and with growing incredulity, he lowered his gaze until it rested on his arm. By some unknown impulse, he clenched his fist and the dragon's head appeared again, scaly and terrifying.

And in his other hand…

Well, it was right there in the equipment menu. Talisman was the wrong name to call it.

"Why, by every big-breasted demon princess in animedom, am I holding the Grafted Dragon and Godslayer Seal?"

Chapter Text

Issei stared at his hands, as though the whole world shattered like a fourth-wall screen break in a cartoon. Just to be sure, he stared at his computer screen, then back at his hands. With much hesitation, he slowly raised his left arm and ran it over his right, dragon-covered one. Scales rubbed against his fingers, and the final lightbulb in his head fizzled out.

He wasn't imagining things. This wasn't some sleep-deprived hallucination brought upon by hours of late-night gaming.

Somehow, against all logic, the Grafted Dragon and the Godslayer Seal from Elden Ring ended up in his hands.

Part of Issei wanted to scream. To run around and bang his head on the wall to make sense of the sheer insanity of the situation…but that would get his parents' attention and then he'd have to explain to them what happened earlier with the devil - and boy, that was still a revelation he was shocked about. They'd ask how he ended up with these, which he couldn't even answer because he didn't have the slightest clue!

"Unreal…" he whispered, bringing the dragon arm closer. Everything about it seemed absolutely real, even when it shouldn't have been. The teeth and tongue inside the jaw, the membrane of the tiny wings, and even the patterns of the scales. Dragons weren't real, but the arm looked as real as one could get!

Devils weren't real either.

"...One mind-blowing event at a time, please," he muttered to himself. He almost raised his arms to rub his forehead, but stopped himself. "Okay, how do I get these off? What did I do last time?"

He bit his lip as he tried to recall how he'd made the items vanish.

"Uh, you can go now? Disappear? Dispel? Release? Go away?" To his dismay, nothing happened. "Come on, what was it?" he jumped from his seat and held his arms high. "I didn't say anything last time, right? Maybe if I think of them disappearing, they'll go away?"

Issei scrunched his eyes closed and imagined his arms. His regular, boring arms with no video game items on them.

A breeze passed over his arms, and the ringing of windchimes tickled his ears. He opened his eyes, and to his relief, his arms were normal once again. He slumped over and exhaled, but his eyes soon flickered to the screen. The Elden Ring menu stared back at him, and for once, the thought of stats and new equipment didn't seem so exciting anymore.

"What do I even do with this…?"

Well, what he wouldn't be doing was announcing this to the whole world; he'd watched enough anime to know that revealing magic powers to the public was generally a bad idea. The government would be knocking on their door before dinner if he did!

"I've gotta tell someone though. I can't keep this kind of shit bottled up, but who the hell could—" one face came to mind. He sighed again, though this time the first hints of a smile grew on his lips. "Right. Motohama. I feel stupid for even asking."

Calling Motohama an Elden Ring fanatic wasn't an exaggeration. He had followed every leak and rumor since the game's announcement and was active on forums, even serving as a moderator for one of them. When the first real trailers and gameplay reveals came out, not even peeping in the girls' locker rooms could pull him away from his phone, an event that made Issei and Matsuda worry that aliens had brainwashed him. Matsuda thought he'd found a girlfriend and left them in the dust, with neither option sounding appealing. Nevertheless, Motohama was the one who brought the game to their attention and always led their brotherhood in discussions about it.

"I hope I can actually reach him. He's been almost impossible to call since the game came out." Issei pulled out his phone and dialled his number. After a few agonisingly long rings, his voice came through.

"Issei, my man! Erdtree bless you! It's been a while! How's your journey in the lands between?"

"It's been going great!" he replied, leaning back. "Finally killed that bastard Godrick!"

"So I've heard! Matsuda texted me not long ago! At last, you're one step away from losing the shame of maidenlessness! Today is the day Issei Hyoudou is ready to play with the champions!"

"I'm not ready for PvP yet, but thanks," Issei replied. "I've watched the videos you posted, and I've got no chance in hell against those weapons. Seriously, how do you lose half your life from one bleed proc?"

"Minmaxing and optimization, my friend, an art you'd do well to master if you want a snowball's chance in surviving the sadomasochistic hellhole we call the Lands Between."

"Well, excuse me for trying to enjoy the game and not kick all the fun out of it."

"That's what they all say at the start. Anyways, what do you need?"

Issei opened his mouth to reply, only to clamp it shut. His eyes drifted to his arm as though the dragon would spontaneously appear again. Was he really doing this? He could ignore it. Keep living his normal life. Shove it away and pretend he'd never died.

Rise, ye Tarnished.

The moment that thought entered his head, however, a wave of revulsion came over him. As though the mere idea of spurning whatever this was actually made him sick.

"Issei? Bro? You still there?"

He blinked. "Y-yeah, I'm good." He took a deep breath and bit the bullet. This…wasn't going to simply vanish. If it came to bite him back in the ass, he'd haunt himself. "Listen, could you come over to my house? There's something I want to show you."

"Come over?" Motohama asked, puzzled. "Is it a new doujin? We didn't bring up any new releases the past couple of weeks, so I might've missed out on some. Or is it something to do with the game?"

"It's…kinda related to the game, yeah."

"Can't you send me a pic?"

"I don't think," Issei replied, putting as much urgency in his voice as he could, "that would be a good idea. You wouldn't believe me if I sent a pic."

He heard rustling and the creaking of a swivel chair in the background. His hands clenched on his knees as he waited for his friend's answer. One last chance to back out; he could press the red button and cancel the call. Motohama might get weirded out, but he could explain when they met up at school. Yet as his thumb hovered over the button, he couldn't bring himself to push it.

"...if that's what you say, then sure. I'm game. When do you want me to come?"

"As soon as you can. As in, right now would be good."

"Right now? Yeesh, did you nab a limited-edition figurine of Melina? Those sell for a shit-ton of yen, y'know? Nah, you couldn't afford it." Motohama replied. "Okay, I'll be right over. At least make sure your parents won't kick me out the moment I knock."

"Just tell them it's about the game. The only reason they're up in the air about it is because I haven't watched any hentai since I grabbed it."

"Hah! Same here. Boy, were my parents happy. I'll ride the bike over. See ya!"

Motohama hung up, and Issei sank into his chair, a weight in his stomach partially unloading. '"That had to be the hardest phone call I've ever made…wow." He eyed his Momo-chan alarm clock and gave it a half-hearted finger salute. "Here's to hoping this day doesn't get any worse…I just jinxed that, didn't I?"

Rising from his chair, Issei went over to his bed and fell face-first. Sinking into the sheets, he raised his arm and glared at it, as if it were to blame for his recent troubles.

"Heh. I'm having a staredown with my own arm," he chuckled with no real humor. "I must be losing it."

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang, and Issei perked up. He quickly headed down to the living room to see his mother standing before the door with her arms crossed. Now, Issei recognized a volatile situation when he saw one, so he immediately stepped in.

"Hey, Motohama! You made it!" he called out, breaking the tension. His mother's head swerved to him, and she pinned him with a raised eyebrow. Rubbing his head sheepishly, he chuckled as he realized that forgetting to mention his friend coming over was a big deal. "Sorry, Mom. I invited Motohama over to talk about the game."

"Really?" she asked. "Then if I open that bag, I won't see more of that disgusting porn like the ones you always hide away in your room?"

He glanced at his friend, and sure enough, that infamous brown bag hung from his shoulder.

"They're strategy magazines, Mrs. Hyoudou," Motohama replied quickly and opened a bag, pulling out a big magazine with the Tarnished emblazoned on the cover. "Issei's been having trouble with some of the enemies, so I brought this to help him."

Issei's mother tore the magazine from his grasp and flipped it open. Usually, this was the part where her face would shrivel in utter disgust at what she claimed was 'degenerate filth that corrupted her son'. Fortunately, for both their sakes, there were no nudies in this magazine.

After a few tense seconds, she handed it back, though her eyes remained narrowed.

"Alright, both of you can go. Be careful not to make too much noise, okay? If that game really is chipping off some of that perversion of you lot, then I'm all for it. Open up a window, though. I'd better not come up there and find the room stinking to high heaven, understand?"

Issei and Motohama quickly nodded, the latter's glasses almost falling off with how fast he was nodding. She waved her hand, and Motohama stepped past her.

"Great to see you. Sorry about calling like this on a weekend, but I really couldn't wait." Issei said as he led his friend up the stairs after depositing his shoes near the doorway.

"You'd better have a good explanation, Hyoudou. I almost missed an important livestream, and going through comment sections is barely worth the effort," Motohama replied. The pair entered Issei's room, and Motohama looked around with a discerning eye. "As usual, your collection is top-notch. Even the Momo-chan poster is one of the rarer editions. I've truly taught you well."

"I snatched it from the shelf before an Ugly Bastard wearing a pink t-shirt laid his grubby hands on it," Issei said and closed the door. "Nice going with the bag, by the way. What's really in there?"

Motohama grinned and pulled out the magazines. "I wasn't lying this time. All these are fresh off the shelf and have some of the best gamers in the country writing for Elden Ring."

"Can't you just search these up on the internet?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Motohama sighed with pity and pulled back the bangs of his brown hair. "Oh, ye ignorant soul. You really think the best gamers are gonna post their best advice out on the net where every noob can read them? No, the real gems are buried here." He traced the magazines' edges as though it was made of gold. Or a Miku figurine. He then shook his head and threw them on the bed. "But we can get to that later. What was so important it couldn't wait until recess on Monday?"

Issei bit his lip and clenched his fists. This wasn't gonna be easy, no matter how he framed it.

"Well, right after I owned Godrick and unlocked his weapons, Mom forced me out of my room. I walked around the city for a bit and then…I was pulled into an alley."

"An alley? Wait, you were mugged?" Motohmama asked with sudden alarm. "Dude, are you okay? Did you call the cops?"

"No way!" Issei exclaimed, viciously shaking his head. "No, the cops have to stay out of it."

"Are you crazy?" His friend exclaimed with raised eyebrows. "Was the mugger a chick? Cause that's gotta be the only reason why you'd—"

"First, it was a guy! Even if it was a chick with melon-grade oppai, I'd still tell my Mom and Dad at least! And yes, they don't know, so keep it quiet, okay?" he pleaded with placating hands. "Second, the reason why I didn't go to the cops…"

This was it. No going back now. For real this time. Issei took a deep breath and outstretched his arms, much to Motohama's confusion. He imagined the weight of the items again on his arms, how the scales rubbed against his skin. For a few seconds, nothing happened.

"Um, Issei? Are you sure you didn't knock your head—HOLY SHIT!"

Wincing at the inevitable, Issei watched as Motohama jumped back, scrambling onto the bed and gaping at the newfound accessories on his arms. "Wh-what the hell is that!?"

"I said the same thing, and I have no clue." He shook his arms and twisted them so Motohama wouldn't miss any detail. "The guy attacked me, and the next thing I knew, I had these."

Motohama stammered silently as his chest heaved up and down with the force of a machine gun, his eyes darting like crazy behind his glasses. He finally managed to concentrate on what exactly it was on Issei's arms and leaned his head the slightest bit closer, only to pale and raise a shaking finger at him.

"I-Is that the…? Are those…?"

"Yep."

A heavy tension fell upon them, mixed with pure incredulity and a not-insignificant amount of fear. Issei gave his friend a shaky smile, hoping to alleviate some of the tension, but he was just as nervous as his friend was, if not more. If Motohama panicked and ran, or even called the cops, he didn't know what he'd do.

He could tackle him. Only a step away. Grab him by the neck with the graft and squeeze -

The instant the thought entered his head, he grit his teeth and quickly banished it. What was he even thinking!? 'I don't care what happens, but I'm not gonna hurt my friend for something I showed him!'

…

"...Can I…get closer?"

Issei blinked. His friend, while paler than a ghost, didn't look like he was about to bolt. Slowly nodding, he kept absolutely still as Motohama slowly crawled from the bed and stepped closer. He seemed ready to bolt with every step, but he managed to approach Issei until he was almost nose-to-nose with the dragon head. Grasping his trembling finger, the bespectacled boy lightly prodded the scales and pulled back, utterly alarmed.

"Holy shit," he whispered. "This is either the greatest cosplay ever conceived by fans of anything, or…"

The dragon's head opened as Issei clenched his fist, and this time, Motohama did flinch. Not enough to crash through the ceiling, but close to it. He slowly looked up and their eyes met. For a good while, neither of them said anything, each waiting for the other to take the lead.

'But what the hell can I say right now?'

"...How? Just, how?"

The image of an endless void flashed before the brown-haired boy's eyes. Of creeping darkness and sorrow, and of stone coffins and golden lights that blossomed into infernos.

"Honestly? I haven't got the slightest clue."

Motohama swallowed, then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay, I'm good."

He didn't look good at all - a sheen of sweat was forming under his bangs - but Issei smiled again. "Do you wanna sit down?"

"I don't think I could get up if I did," he replied. Pressing his hands together, he sharply inhaled and straightened himself up. "Better now. Right. You say this came outta nowhere, correct?"

"Pretty much."

Motohama squeezed his hands tighter, though his eyes never left the Grafted Dragon. "And…these actually work?"

'Oh, they work alright.' Issei thought as the memory of the screaming devil played in fast-forward. He clenched his fist again, and reddish light bloomed from within the dragon's maw. "I don't think showing you the rest here is a good idea. Explaining to Mom why I burned down my room is the last thing I want to happen today. I haven't tested out the Seal yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if I can cast magic now."

As Issei finished that statement, his eyes widened, and an unexpected rush of excitement ran through him. 'Oh shit, can I actually use magic?'

Every chuuni's dream, and he held it - literally - in the palm of his hand? And from the way Motohama pushed up his glasses, he realized that tidbit as well.

"Grafted Dragon and Godslayer Seal…hmm, odd combination. Any reason why?"

Issei gestured to his computer screen. "See for yourself."

Motohama rushed to the computer and roused it from sleep mode, whereupon he was treated to the sight of Issei's Tarnished standing in Enia's chamber. His eyes roamed over the screen before his head sharply turned to him, and he almost stumbled at his friend's piercing stare. Usually, Motohama would use it to analyze the sacred numbers of the girls at school, but now that he was on the receiving end of it…yeesh.

"You actually use the Grafted Dragon?" his friend deadpanned. "Seriously?"

"Wha—it's a literal dragon's head that can shoot meteors!" Issei protested. "Who wouldn't want to use something that oozes badassery? I've got the stats for it, and it does burn damage without buffs or items!"

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," Motohama replied, waving his hand in dismissal. "Don't come crying when you lose to the next mini-boss fifty times."

"Fifty times? Wow, you have that much faith in me?"

"Your failure to understand the principles of proper minmaxing confounds me to this day, brother."

"Unlike some people, I actually wanna have fun while playing. Grinding has its time and place, but not every moment of the game," Issei countered, almost crossing his arms before remembering that it wouldn't be a pleasant experience, considering what was on them.

Motohama stared at him with the same level of disappointment that was reserved for anime fans who claimed that Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood was a mid-tier anime and not absolute cinema. Issei refused to budge, though; he had his gaming principles, and like his love for oppai, he'd stand his ground for them no matter what!

Then, his friend finally cracked a smile. "You're utterly hopeless, you know that?"

All the tension in the room slowly evaporated as Issei smugly grinned. A huge weight dropped from Issei's shoulders as the tension in his arms lightened somewhat. Not completely, since Motohama still stared at the game items unabashedly, and Issei didn't think he could blame him for that.

"So, you have your weapons loadout in real life, complete with magic that you may or may not know how to use, and you have no idea why." He rubbed his chin in deep concentration. "If this really is your loadout, what's your other equipment?"

"A brass shield and a broadsword," Issei replied without thinking, then his eyes widened. "You don't think…"

"It wouldn't hurt to try."

"How would I even do that?" he asked, raising his arms again. "It's not like this thing comes with an instruction manual!"

"Hmm…it's a reach, but try picturing swapping between the weapons like you would in the game." He swiped his finger in the air.

Issei's brow furrowed. How exactly Motohama came to that logic, he wasn't sure, but it made sense. He still held reservations, but his friend gestured to him again and he realized he wasn't going to back down.

'Okay, just swap the weapons…' he closed his eyes and imagined his Tarnished character, this time with the broadsword and the shield in his hands. For a few moments, nothing happened, and Issei began to think he was being played.

'Is this revenge? Cause it's not really funny.'

Then, with the faintest chiming of a bell, the weight on his arms vanished before being replaced with—

"WHOA, WATCH IT!"

"What are you—oh shit, sorry!"

Issei winced as his apology did little to alleviate Motohama, who grimaced before slowly nodding. "Well, at least it worked."

Sure enough, in his right hand, he held a long, European-style sword, and in the other, a shield bigger than his chest.

"Holy shit," Motohama muttered, carefully inspecting the weapons while Issei made sure he didn't nick him by accident. "I think I've said that phrase more times today than in my whole life."

"No kidding." Issei held the sword closer and examined the steel. He hadn't seen any real-life swords, both native and foreign, outside of museum trips, but this one looked sharp enough to cut through his desk. The shield was also a work of art and sturdy to boot if the weight on his left arm meant anything. "When I came back, I honestly thought I'd go postal. Wait, I actually did, I just held it inside."

"I feel you, brother," Motohama nodded sagely. "How heavy are these?"

"Heavy?" Issei asked, then bobbed them up and down. "Not that much."

"You sure? Cause I'm certain that much metal is way heavier than what you can usually carry," His friend pointed out.

"Hey, I do fine in gym class! Besides, I didn't say these were feathers, just…" He lightly waved the sword around. "Not crushing."

"Weight 7 for the shield and weight 4 for the sword…" Motohama pondered and began counting off his fingers. "How does that translate to real life? Did the devs try and find an equivalent for the real weight, or did they just give a number based on how heavy it looked?"

"It's a fantasy game, I don't think the devs cared if it was super-realistic."

"Point. Still, considering that you have…this…it's not something you can just ignore."

Well, the shield's heavier, that's a given," Issei said, hefting the shield. Yet as he kept staring at its back, he felt a light pull coming from the arm that held it, tugging at his mind.

'Hell, I'm already in this deep..' He 'tugged' the string and-

The clanging of steel. The roaring of knights. The whinnying of horses, stampeding and charging.

Swords against shields, as the gods clashed behind

"Hold the line!" He buckled under the mace's blow, but the shield held, and he cut off his foe's legs from under. "By Margit, keep them away from the walls!" His horse reared as he parried another blow, and his lance skewered a line of knights. Arrows rained down upon him, only to shatter harmlessly against his shield. "Castle Morne must hold! Erdtree as my witness, this castle will hold! Do you hear me, soldiers!?"

"Yes, Sir Niedhardt! Glory to the Fell Omen!"

"Not again, dude! You gotta warn me when you try something like that!"

"Huh?" Issei cleared his eyes, the memory of the vision still lingering in his mind. 'Again? This is starting to get really…oh.'

"Okay, I swear I didn't mean for that to happen…" Issei raised his shield again—his glowing shield—and gave a weak chuckle. "But at least we know Ashes of War work, right?"

Barricade Shield was easy enough to identify, after all—a simple skill meant to bolster the shield's defense. And just like everything else that day, it wasn't limited to a screen.

'Does that mean my broadsword has…' Issei thought before quickly shaking his head. 'Nope. No fire or hacking the room to bits. I don't wanna find out what Storm Blade can do to a wall… or Motohama.'

Motohama forced his jaw shut and bowed his head, fingers furiously drumming against each other. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, completely tuned out from the world.

"Heh."

What?

"Um, Motohama? You good?"

"HeheheheheheheHAHAHA!" Motohama reared back his head and cackled. "This is the greatest day of my life!" Issei stumbled as his friend suddenly rushed behind him and roped his arm around his head. "Our fantasies have finally come true! Today is a historic day for us, Issei! No longer will we be the perverts for the girl to kick around, but anime protagonists drowning in ladies! Our shonen adventure has begun, with all the blessings it entails!"

Issei stared with disbelief at Motohama, who'd raised his finger heavenward, and his glasses glinted against the light. "What are you saying?"

"That we are going up in the world, my friend! We need to test everything: if you can use the rest of your gear, if you can use magic, the whole damn training montage!" He detached himself from Issei and pulled out his phone. "I've gotta call Matsuda. He'll be over the moon when-"

"NO!"

Motohama paused with his finger right over the call button. He turned to Issei and tilted his head.

"Look, I really think we should keep this between ourselves, okay?"

"What—why?" Motohama asked, baulking at the suggestion.

Like before, Issei dispelled the weapons before rubbing his head, the words souring in his mouth. "This whole thing…I'm still trying to process it, and we don't know anything about it. If this gets out, I'd bet you my stash that I'd be carted off to some government black site. If we keep the number of people who know on the down-low, there's less of a risk that someone would blab."

"Someone would—" Motohama held back a curse. "It's Matsuda! He's not gonna snitch on us, Issei! He's the last person who would!"

"I know that!" Issei shouted. His fist clenched as the words left his mouth. "You think I want to do it? I'm scared, Motohama! One step away from pissing myself, scared! I don't know what's going on and how I even got these, but I don't want this to come bite me or my parents in the ass!" He clasped his hands and bowed. "Please, just…hold off on telling Matsuda until we've got a better grip on this, okay? I only called you because you know a hell of a lot more about Elden Ring than me!"

Motohama frowned, though he could see worry in his expression. "You've thought about this, haven't you?"

"While you were on your way here. Please, I'm begging you."

His friend's eyes flickered to the screen and then to him several times, biting his lip. The sweat on Issei's brow was almost dripping down his face. Honestly, Issei really wanted Matsuda in the loop, too, but he'd watched enough anime to know that the slightest wrong whisper would have the government knocking on his door before he could blink.

'When I figure all of this out, I'll tell him. And my parents.'

Finally, Motohama sighed and returned the phone to his pocket. "Fine, I won't tell him. You owe me big, though, you got that? Do you know how pissed he's going to be when he finds out we kept him out of this? It'll be your head on the line, not mine."

Issei swallowed his guilt. "...A-Absolutely. Whatever you need."

"Great!" Motohama clapped his hands, his eager grin snapping back into existence. "First things first, we need a testing ground. There's a spot in the old forest nearby that we can use as long as we don't use anything too flashy. We'll head over tomorrow so I can write a full experiment plan! Incantations, skills, the whole shebang! This is gonna be awesome!"

Despite the mental exhaustion, Issei smiled. On one hand, he had a feeling hiding his situation from people would be the least of his issues. On the other hand, he was going to cast magic. Enough said.

"Oh, what happened to the mugger?"

Ah, Issei swallowed. He'd almost forgotten about that. Which was strange considering he'd…killed him. 'I thought I'd throw up when I came back, I mean, I killed a guy! But he tried to kill me, so…wait, I burned him alive! How am I not bothered by that?'

Still, he had a feeling his friend wouldn't take that well. A bit of omission then.

"The guy who attacked me called himself a devil, and it wasn't a chuuni nickname. He had the ears and fangs and everything. He almost killed me before I got the drop on him."

…

"...Okay, let me get this straight: you went on a walk, got mugged by a devil, and then you somehow gained access to your weapons from Elden Ring. All in one day."

Issei's head slumped forward. Well, at least there weren't any more bombshells to drop.

Chapter Text

"Umm… not to burst your bubble, but are you sure this is safe?" Issei asked.

Motohama scoffed and tapped the notebook with his pen. "I'm telling you, there's nothing to be scared of. Everyone at school uses the clearing on the west side of the forest; this is the east side. Nobody comes here except me. Besides, better somewhere with open space than inside a building where the roof can collapse on our heads anytime soon, right?"

Issei nodded, though he kept glancing between the trees. "I'm not saying this is a bad place, but…"

"What's wrong?" his friend asked, raising an eyebrow. "Getting cold feet?"

He looked down at his arm before sighing. "A little. I mean, I woke up today kinda hoping this was a really shitty dream."

Motohama's eyebrow twitched, and the pen in his hand trembled. "Dude, this is the single greatest moment of our lives! Our gateway to the paradise we and every basement-dwelling chuuni always dreamed of. I know for a fact you would've enacted every scene in shonen anime by now. What's different this time?"

Now, Issei didn't mind his friend's enthusiasm; if anything, it provided a little boost of self-assurance. And in general, Motohama was right. There was still a part of his brain nerdgasming at the fact that he was fulfilling one of his childhood dreams and was ready to pounce on it with the experience of a seasoned gamer. Unfortunately, one dark cloud overshadowed all those excited thoughts.

"I nearly died."

Even as he said the words, his hand instinctively reached for his neck. He could still feel the…devil's crushing grip. If it wasn't for his sudden twist of fate, that would've been the end of it. Left to die (hell, the guy said he was going to eat him) in some abandoned alley, with no one to find out why.

These powers awakening at the brink of death…not a pleasant implication.

'Huh, guess anime protagonists get over that shock of dying before getting isekai'd. I sure hope that happens soon,' he thought sardonically.

Motohama's eyes widened as his face flashed pale. "Oh...oh shit, you're right. Sorry, bro." He bit his lip before speaking in a reassuring tone, albeit a hesitant one. "H-Hey, I know this looks scary, but think of the positives. Like, you can do magic now! Real magic! You said yourself the bastard got his just desserts because of that. Imagine what else you could do!"

Issei shrugged, though his lips were in a tug-of-war between up and down, matching the turbulent thoughts in his head. "If you say so. How do you wanna do this?"

"Hmm, well, I was thinking we'd go over what we know and work our way upwards," he said, toying with the notebook in his hands. "For now, bring out the seal and the dragon."

Nodding, Issei clenched his fists, and the weapons appeared on his arms. Despite everything he'd said, the sight of the Grafted Dragon brought a massive smile to his face.

"Okay, try giving it a few swings. It's a Fist-type weapon, so I'm not expecting much from simple attacks."

Steeling himself, cocked back his fist and began punching the air. The first swing caused him to stumble and nearly fall over from the sheer force, eliciting a chuckle from Motohama, who failed to maintain an innocent expression when Issei glared at him.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

"You try and swing this thing around, it's not exactly a sweatband!" he snapped.

"Yeah, yeah, you suck at exercising, we all know that. You're gonna have to change that now, so hop to it!"

Issei pouted but nonetheless complied. 'I know I'm not fucking Matsuda or that freak of nature Kiba, but I don't suck that much, do I? It's not like I'm failing gym…but the coach always gives us dirty looks. Wait, I think that's because of the peeping. Maybe I should ask Matsuda for advice…but in disguise? He always says how girls with huge honkers like buff guys. If I tell him I've seen the light, he'll gladly jump in to help after rubbing it in my face.'

Finally, Issei stopped swinging and hunched over, panting his life out as the sudden loss of breath hit him. He glanced at his friend, who was gaping in open shock.

"Holy…Issei, how did you do that?"

"Do…do what?"

"That!" he exclaimed, gesturing at him. "All of a sudden, you started pulling out all those weird wrestling moves! I tried grabbing your attention, but you were totally zoned out!"

Picking himself up, Issei raised an eyebrow at his friend as he panted. "What the hell are you on about? I was swinging the thing like you asked me to."

"Swinging is what your little stumble was. After that, it was like…" Motohama pushed up his glasses and bit back a curse. "I knew I should have recorded this on my phone! But no, we can't have the government finding evidence! Screw that, we're witnessing history! Next time, I'm getting proper recording equipment and we'll document everything!" He inhaled sharply and pointed a finger. "Do it again!"

Holding back a sigh, Issei cocked back his fist and began punching. Yet after his third punch (could it be even called a punch with a weapon like this?), he noticed something unusual about his movements. A sloppy punch sharpened, and his shaky right hook didn't throw him off his feet. His stance felt grounded, and the same calm from the day before swept over him, despite the alarm bells in his head ringing like crazy. Finally, he drew back his fist and thrust it forward. The dragon's maw snapped open the moment his arm straightened, bathing the air in roaring fire. The flames billowed in the air for a few moments before dispersing, leaving nothing but embers and the dragon's lingering growl.

Issei blinked, still with his arm outstretched, as the full sequence of the moves he pulled off played back in his head. His jaw dropped, reeling from shock, and he slowly lowered his gaze to his feet, which were locked in a ready stance straight from every martial arts anime he'd watched.

"...shit, you're right," he said quietly. "But-how- I never took martial arts classes! I don't know the first thing about fighting outside of TV and games!"

After picking his own jaw up, Motohama furiously returned to scribbling down notes. "Definitely a zone moment, it was like a trance…come to think of it, I've seen some of those moves before."

"Really? Where?"

"From the game, where else? I've used the Grafted Dragon for a short while before moving on to infinitely better weapons-"

"HEY!"

"But Fist-type weapons have a distinct moveset, and some of the punches you just threw looked exactly like the ones in the game."

"Huh, for real?" Issei asked and gaped at his arm. "So...even though I've never used something like this in real life, I can do it now? That's…useful."

"An understatement, my friend," Motohama said. "It'd be a huge pain in the ass to learn how to use a severed dragon's head like a boxing glove…that's a sentence I never thought I'd use in real life."

Even as he tried to settle into an idle stance, Issei could feel the phantom sensations gently guiding his arm to where it was supposed to be.

'Creepy…it's almost an autopilot jammed into my body.'

Motohama hummed and tapped his notebook again, his glasses glinting in the sunlight. "Okay, I think I have an idea of what's going on, but I want to run some tests. Can you swap to your sword?"

"Sure thing," Issei replied, and the dragon vanished in the blink of an eye before his fist closed around his broadsword. "Let me guess, you want me to start swinging?"

"Should we add mind-reading to your list of skills? I don't think that's in any scroll or prayerbook in Elden Ring."

"Ha ha, ease up, king of comedy," Issei retorted. He then repeated what he had done with the fist-type weapon, only this time he tried swinging the sword around like he was in an action movie. It sucked at first, and he was sure that if the kendo club saw what he was doing, they'd thrash his ass for the mockery alone.

But soon, those strange pushes and pulls on his limbs returned, correcting his form and filling within him an air of…certainty? At one point, he even grasped the sword with two hands and spun around in a wild slash. He kept going until his body could no longer keep up, out of breath and staring at the sword with ever-growing bewilderment.

"I think I'm starting to see the full picture," Motohama said, his voice holding back some awe.

Gulping, Issei was quick to nod in agreement. The blade's rippling metal reflected his eyes, now rimmed with gold. Swordplay, much less western swordplay, was yet another skill he'd never considered learning in real life, and now he could apparently do it.

"Switching to two-handed midway…makes sense. Forget the fact you can two-hand any weapon in the game, it's still a sword." Tapping his lip with his pen, Motohama hummed. "Do you have any other weapons in your inventory?"

"A lot, actually. Every chest and drop I got from enemies."

"Try and tag into…you went through Stormveil? Then Rogier's Rapier. It's a thrusting sword, so it'll have a brand new moveset."

"The rapier? I used it a couple of times for the skill, but I didn't like the moveset. I like slashing better. But we might as well try." Closing his eyes, Issei imagined the rapier tagging into his hands.

"…um, dude? Are you constipated?"

"I'm trying here!" Issei shouted, still trying to imagine the weapon in his fist. But no matter how much he tried, the weight in his fist didn't change. When he opened his eyes, the broadsword was still there.

"Okay, we've met our first stumbling block," Motohama said cautiously. "Wait up." He pulled out his phone and showed Issei a picture of the rapier in-game. "Maybe you need a reminder. You did say you haven't used the weapon in a while."

Issei took a few seconds to absorb the image before trying again. Alas, nothing changed, and the pointy sword was nowhere to be seen.

"Hmm, this is interesting," Motohama muttered and began pacing back and forth. Leaves rustled under his footsteps, and only the trees witnessed their pondering. "You can't summon the rapier…any other weapons?"

Taking a deep breath, Issei tried calling on every weapon he remembered collecting. A limited number, considering his progress in the game was limited to everything south of Stormveil and west of Caelid, but nothing worked. A mace, a twinblade, even a simple dagger he remembered looting off a random corpse didn't work.

"Nope," he grumbled in frustration. "Just these three and the shield from yesterday."

"And what's so special about them?" Motohama asked, having resumed his note-taking. "I mean, the Grafted Dragon is a Legendary Weapon, and the Godslayer Seal is unique enough, so it would make sense they'd be special, but the Brass Shield and the sword are items you can easily loot off soldiers in Limgrave with a little grinding. And it's not Ashes of War; you used Barricade Shield."

Humming, Issei unsummoned the sword and began to fiddle with the Godslayer Seal strapped to his left hand. The intricate stone carvings on its surface proved a nice yet small focus as he dwelled on the answer, before he recalled something. Namely, his status screen from the game.

"Hey, Motohama…" Issei began. "These weapons: the dragon, the seal, all of them…they're in my current loadout. So what if-"

"You can only summon what's in your equipment loadout in the game right now." Motohama finished, his eyes threatening to pop from behind his glasses, and he quickly scribbled another note. "Shit, why didn't I think of this sooner? If that is true, then there's a limit to what you can do…what spells do you have equipped right now?"

"My spells?" Issei furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin. "Urgent Heal, Black Flame and…Dragonfire," he trailed off.

A gust of wind blew past them as the final word sank in and lodged a stone in their stomach.

"...yeah, let's put a pin on that," Motohama hurriedly said, and Issei was quick to nod. No matter how much it'd be awesome to summon a dragon's head that spews raging hellfire, the catch was…it was a giant dragon's head spewing raging hellfire. In a grove. With flammable trees and grass all around them.

A forest fire was the last thing he wanted to start today.

"Right, but we can try the other two!" the superpowered teenager followed up. "If this place is as safe as you said, we should be fine!"

Motohama stared at him, then at his seal, before shrugging. "Eh, why not? Say, are you wounded?"

"No. Why?"

"Unless you wanna cut yourself, there's no point in trying Urgent Heal other than pretty lights. That leaves us with Black Flame." He bit his lip. "It's risky, but worth a shot. What do you think?"

Issei hummed and stared at his left arm. "Well, this is the Godslayer Seal. Seems kinda poetic, no?" And a fireball sounded cooler than a golden light show. "Where do you want me to throw it?"

"Um, try holding it in your hand, maybe? In Elden Ring, you can't normally cancel spells, but after seeing you wield weapons with a level a skill you've no business possessing, I want to test something else. If not, aim at the ground, away from the trees—and me, please."

"Alright." Issei raised his left arm high and concentrated on the seal. Admittedly, he had no idea what he was doing.

'Maybe it works more like the game than I thought it would? There's a spell slot, I have a seal, so that only leaves pressing the button.'

But nothing happened. And from the way Motohama was staring at him, he was looking more and more like an idiot with each second.

'Come on, work! Flame on! Abracadabra! Black Flame, activate! Is there even a magic word? Is there a gesture? Do I need to praise the sun?' He glared at the seal as if it held all the answers to his problems. 'Come on, how do I even use this -'

Darkness.

War.

Decay.

False ones, conquerors, thieves.

Servants of flesh, receive my blessing. Draw thy blades and hone thy bodies. Seek bound Death so I may bind it to my essence.

The gloam comes for thy eternal sun, and I am its monarch, fair and sharp with eyes of the abyss.

O Golden Queen, your Order cannot stand. Transcendent, you and your divine kin stand above all.

But know this, herald of Order:

Even gods can burn.

Heat flashed through his arm. A rumble filled the air, and just as Isse's hand twitched, a roaring black flame erupted from his hand. Its writhing abyssal flames cast no shadows, yet heat warped the air, and its white heart seemed to swallow the light around it. He'd seen normal fire before, but this…this wasn't normal fire colored black like in that chemistry lab he took. Nothing burned, but it kept pulsating and growing. No crackle came from the flame, but rather a lingering hiss that raised his hackles. It was almost…hungry. Devouring every atom of oxygen around him and throbbing like a heart in his hand.

"I'm seeing Black Flame in real life…" whispered a trembling Motohama, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes and his notebook threatening to fall out of his hand. "That's it, I can die happy now."

The fire danced over Issei's palm, coalescing and blazing with an eerie howl. The teen stood transfixed at the sight, the wonder of actual magic captivating him. Then, a flash of heat ran down his arm. Panic blasted through any wonderment as the fireball pulsated in time with his thundering heart.

"Shit, this thing's gonna blow!" Issei exclaimed, snapping Motohama out of his own stupor.

"Cancel it or throw it!" Motohama barked, running behind the treeline.

Issei tried to splay his palm open, thinking it would cancel the fireball, but it availed to nothing as the black flames grew hotter with each second. "Uh, disperse! Cancel! Stop!"

The flame shrank, retracting its tendrils -

And exploded in Issei's palm.

"AAAHH!"

Issei fell to the ground, clutching his hand as his body wracked with pain. He'd once burned his hand on the stove by accident, but this was on another level!

"Oh fuck - Issei!" He heard footsteps and a hand pressed against his back. "You okay, dude? What's the damage?"

Hissing, Issei slowly looked down at the pained limb. Searing red marks marred his palm, and the sight of peeled skin brought bile to the back of his throat. The Godslayer Seal was undamaged; not even the rope tying it to his hand had burned.

Motohama swore up and down. He looked around desperately, but never letting go of Issei. "The street's not far. We just need to walk to it and I can call 119, so hang in there -"

"Wait!"

His friend sharply turned to him, bewildered as Issei slowly pushed himself up. He panted heavily and his arm throbbed like a balloon, but a numbness had fallen over him. "I-I'm fine, it's nothing."

True enough, the pain was fading rapidly. Far too rapidly to be normal. But it still hurt, and his skin was very much damaged.

"A fireball exploded in your hand, Issei. Of course you're not feeling anything!" Motohama exclaimed, turning green as he stared at Issei's burnt arm.

…he had a point. But despite the grotesque sight and the odour of burnt flesh, the searing pain had morphed into a dull tingle. And thanks to the absence of pain, a thought bloomed in his mind. If Motohama's theory was correct…

"...I'm going to use Urgent Heal. Looks like I didn't have to cut myself after all," Issei said, moving out of Motohama's grip. An absurd chuckle escaped his lips; a cut would've been far less dramatic compared to what had happened. "So… should I?"

Motohama's jaw dropped again as he looked at him like he was nuts. He opened his mouth to argue, but only a single, choked whisper escaped before he forced his jaw shut. His next words were hesitant, even fearful.

"I mean…if you think it could help, then go ahead."

Giving his friend a shaky nod, Issei winced as he clenched his left fist again. This time, he tried to imagine the image of the golden orb of Urgent Heal. He hadn't used the spell much in the game, even during the beginning when he had no offensive spells, but he always appreciated it when the circumstances came up.

'A good heal would be nice right about now, so please, whatever's causing this, work!'

Another tingle ran up his arm, and he felt himself slightly crouch. The aching pressure from his bruns suddenly spiked and -

Thy duty awaits, Tarnished. Let no wound or scar impede thee. So sayeth the messengers of the Will.

A bright flash radiated from the Seal, and golden script shone beneath his feet. A surge of warmth radiated throughout his body, a far cry from the ravenous hunger the Black Flames displayed. Immediately, flesh began to knit itself before his eyes. The previous numbness morphed into a pleasant tingle, and in a few seconds flat, the burns on his palm had vanished completely, with only faint marks to indicate that his mishap had even occurred.

"Whoa…" Motohama leaned in closer and examined his hand. "I will never diss healing spells again."

"You and me both," Issei muttered. "That was a close one. I don't think I could've explained those burns to Mom and Dad."

"Good point," Motohama nodded, his eyes lingering on the Godslayer Seal. Issei felt him shudder, and he slowed, thinking Motohama was crying. But the growing smile on his friend's face dashed those concerns.

"Is something funny?"

Motohama threw back his head and laughed, nearly throwing his glasses off. "This is fucking amazing! We saw real magic! From Elden Ring! The greatest game in history, and you're casting spells straight from it!"

Issei rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. "I know, you said that before. What, the Grafted Dragon and the sword didn't count?"

"No! Er, yes, but - you know what I mean!" He then shoved his face into Issei's with a gleam in his eyes bordering on manic. "I've been putting this off, but do you think I could get powers like you did? I'd burn every magazine and figurine I've collected if it meant I could cast Haima's Gavel! I'll respec my whole build to do it!"

"Whoa, first, personal space, dude!" Issei cried out as he pushed his friend away. "Second, in case you forgot, I nearly died when I got these powers, and we still don't know how I got them exactly!"

Flipping through his notebook, Motohama muttered to himself with the speed of a bullet train before he perked up. "I've got an idea! It's crazy, but if it works, it'll be worth it!"

Issei raised an eyebrow. "I'm already not liking it. What'd you have in mind?"

"Try to kill me!"

Cicadas chirped in the background, and a gust of wind shook the trees behind them.

"You're joking," Issei deadpanned.

"I'm serious, bro!" Motohama flipped to a page and pointed to a sentence circled in blue. "It makes total sense! It's how it goes in isekai anime, and that's what happened to you! If we can replicate what the devil did to you, then maybe -"

"Motohama, I nearly died!" Issei shouted, slapping his forehead. "Are you even listening to yourself? There's no try. If I hurt you, and it doesn't work, you'll die! There's no way in hell I'd do that!"

"You can use healing incantations! If it does go wrong, you can always-" Motohama cut himself off, his face twisting. "...No. No! You're right, this is crazy! What the fuck was I thinking? …But it's magic, man. Surely you get me, right?"

A chill swept through Issei as he rubbed his neck. He recalled the devil taunting him with wicked eyes, his grasp so tight he almost broke Issei's spine.

"Trust me, no matter how cool you think this is, dying is the last thing you want to do to get it. You know what I saw as the bastard choked the life out of me?" he hissed. "Nothing. No oppai goddess coming to reward me, no shinigami, no gates to hell or heaven - nothing but darkness. I won't forgive myself if we try this and you end up there because we were stupid."

That's a lie. You saw the tombs. The coffins. The grace of gold.

But Issei couldn't tell him that.

'I don't know if it's a fluke or anything else…but this is not something I want him to dig into. My heart stops beating just by thinking about that place.'

Motohama blanched and quickly nodded. "Ok, you've made your point. No recreating a truck-kun experience." After a few seconds, he sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Sorry, man, I got a little too excited."

"It's fine. We shouldn't rush this too much. Maybe if we keep studying this, we could figure out if you can get Elden Ring powers too," Issei suggested. "Then we can spill the beans to Matsuda!"

"And when he asks why we didn't tell him, we've got the perfect excuse!" Motohama's grin returned. "I'm game!" The two high-fived each other and laughed, the previous tension being quickly forgotten. Issei was glad for that; Motohama was a true friend for helping him with this, and he owed him big-time. Offering a little hope was the least he could do.

"Should we test anything else?"

Motohama paused and tilted his head. "Hmm, just one thing for now. You know how in anime like SAO and those LitRPG comics, the characters can see their status and equipment menus? Try to summon one."

Issei blinked in surprise; he'd read many of those LitRPGs (both light novels and manga, naturally) and was familiar with the trope. Could it really be that easy?

He cleared his throat. "Status."

Nothing.

"Um, open menu? Open inventory? Access menu? Check status?"

The view in front of him remained unchanged. Only trees and the odd bug fluttering in the shadows.

"Well, it was worth a shot," Motohama sighed and rubbed his chin. "So your loadout is stuck to the one in your game…that's a twist."

"If that's true, maybe if I change my loadout in the game-"

"It'll affect the loadout in the real world," Motohama finished, then grimaced. "Kinda inconvenient, don't you think?"

Issei shrugged. "I agree, but if that's how this works, then what can we do?"

His friend smacked his fist on his notebook. "We head back to your house, equip something small, like a dagger, to your character, then we see if you can summon it. While we're there, we'll see if you can use items too."

Issei perked up. Items! Of course! Wait, he already had some items in the game, including a pair he never left without, so could he…

He stared at his right arm and focused, imagining a particular item that every fantasy game player hailed and scrambled for salvation. In a flash of golden light, a fairly large vial appeared in his open palm. It was as heavy as a full water bottle, inlaid with golden carvings surrounding the sloshing red liquid within.

"YES!" Issei yelled in triumph, lifting the vial upwards to the heavens. "One Flask of Crimson Tears successfully summoned!"

Motohama laughed at his friend's joy and observed it closely. "Guess that answers that question!"

Issei beamed and goggled at the flask. The light within faintly bathed his palm red, and a warmth similar to Urgent Healing heated his hand.

"Come on, let's get out of here! We need to see what else we can do! The world's our oyster, dude! Let's not be total NEETs and waste it!"

Issei giggled, excitement radiating from his gold-rimmed eyes. With a mental push, he unsummoned the flask and the Seal before bounding after his bespectacled friend.

'Maybe this won't be such a bummer after all!'

"...this accursed Gremory territory. A fucking shithole…how much longer will I need to stay here?"

Water dripped from leaking pipes. The stench of sewage permeated the air. In the dark, hidden among ruined furniture and grime, a hideous form shifted. Concrete shrieked under talons, and baleful red eyes glared at the sunlight streaming from the door. Once, they would have basked in the sun, enjoying its radiance and all under it. A simple life, one so distant it might as well belong to another person.

A life that was changed when temptation came knocking, garbed in inhuman beauty and batlike wings. An offer was made, and how could they resist when they heard the terms? Riches, power, pleasure, the world in the palm of their hand. All in exchange for servitude.

They made the choice and never looked back. Only, as decades passed, resentment stirred in their chest as the true relevance of their position became clear. A showpony, an ornament, and a useful thug in their colosseums. At first, they didn't mind too much. Fighting was a showcase of power, and life's joys always followed power. Endless revels in blood, feasting on the finest the world had to offer, the squeals of the weaklings under their heel…truly, salvation instead of damnation. But the master didn't like it when her tools grasped beyond their "station". She gave them a warning, just one. She had thought it enough. The burning whip, lashed upon their back a hundred times, was deemed a sufficient warning.

Enraged, they stewed in silence. Watching as their master collected and discarded slaves like the chess pieces they were so named after. Only her Queen was exempt, and she partook in her master's sadism and indifference toward their comrades' fates. It was hard to tell which one boiled their blood more.

Finally, after a pass at a devil their master had eyes on - a mere flirt and dance, nothing more - their fate was decided. Such impudence could not be allowed before the scion of a Devil Pillar. So the penalty was clear: their powers drained, and their souls snuffed out.

So they escaped, fighting through those who'd dare stop them. Hiding in the human world, under a sun that scorned their presence. Their body, once statuesque and carved by rivers of blood and sweat, deformed into a monstrosity. And just their luck, they were in the territory of an even more powerful pillar, one who had risen in the Underworld and not fallen into shadow.

"When can I eat? If I go out, they'll see me. I need to lie low until I can head north. Mt. Yotei is supposed to be no man's land for the devils." Their belly rumbled, echoing in the damp warehouse, and they hissed at it. "But I can't move! I need food! Just one bite and I can-"

Then, the smell came. One so potent it froze them solid.

"...such power…not holy, not even demonic…" they sniffed the air. "But the purity! I've never felt anything like this! And human too! Unclaimed!"

For the first time in years, a true grin broke out, filled with jagged, sharp teeth.

"If I could eat that…no more hiding! I will return and have my vengeance on that whore! Here and down in that pit they call a world!"

Metal groaned as they rose, flexing their power. They had to nab it before the guardians of the territory came, and then, no one could stop them!

No one!

No one!

"Hope you enjoyed that power, human…you won't be for long."

Chapter Text

The walk back home was quiet. The streets were calm, the odd neighbor waved them hello, and the weekend atmosphere helped calm Issei's head. Motohama's pen scratching and mutterings merely added to the background noise.

"A Confessor build is more versatile than a Prophet. That opens up a lot of avenues depending on the weapon and incantation class. What level did you say you were?"

"45."

"Hmm. A higher level than normal to beat Godrick. Most players beat him at 35, and I only needed level 29." Issei mock-glared at his friend, who promptly ignored him. He was pretty sure the words 'feeble casual' were listed in the depths of that notebook. "Then again, if you wanted to keep your build at a balanced setting while utilizing Black Flame and the Godslayer's Seal without a debuff, then a high Faith stat would push your overall level. I'll need to check the rest of your stats, but depending on which one's higher, we can plan accordingly. You can use the Grafted Dragon, so I'd bet Strength. Heavy weapons aren't your playstyle from what I remember, so you should avoid Greathammers and Colossal Swords. In terms of long-range options, we won't have to invest in bows, but some throwing daggers are always handy."

"I bought some throwing daggers from the merchant at the Church," Said merchant's name soon popped into Issei's head. "Kalé. I didn't find a good opportunity to use them; they barely deal any damage."

"This might just be me projecting, but in a real fight, a dagger to the face is a neat distraction. Oh, what are your talismans?"

"The Scarseal from the Weeping Peninsula and the…" Issei trailed off, trying to remember the name. "The Kusanagi with the blue tail. Y'know, the one you find early in Stormveil before you actually enter the castle?"

"Radagon's Scarseal and…the Blue-feathered Branchsword?" Motohama asked. At Issei's nod, he trembled and made a disgusted face. "Ugh, the aura of newbness is so strong it wafts off you with the stench of a sewer."

"Oi, the hell that's supposed to mean!?" Issei hollered with indignation.

"Just commenting on how your build is a patchwork ready to fall at the slightest i-frame miss."

"Screw you, munchkin! Not everyone needs a spreadsheet to suck the joy out of their game! My build's carried me fine so far. and I'll find plenty of new items down the line!"

"If you ever get that far. If it took you so long to beat Godrick, then I fear the lobsters of Liurnia will shoot you down before you can even cross the lake."

Issei huffed as he kept up his glare. So what if he didn't min-max his build? He paid attention to the stats whenever he leveled up, but that was it! He had too much fun playing the game to care otherwise. Motohama noticed and huffed his nose in the air like some stuck-up bocchan.

Fortunately, their stare-off broke into good-natured chuckles.

"Cheer up, Hyoudou, we'll make a proper Tarnished of you yet," he reached over and pulled Issei into a headlock. "With the right stats and gear, you'll make every chuuni on this planet proud! If more monsters like that bastard exist, you'll kick their asses and the ladies will swoon! And then, we'll find a way to make me and Matsuda Tarnished as well. The Harem King dream is within our grasp, my friend!"

Elation rose in Issei's heart as his teenage mind conjured the women and the bountiful Oppai they'd bear cheer his name. Hugging him close, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, smothering him with their golden globes, handholding, clothes falling off…

"I can see it…" he whispered. "The land of dreams…is it really within our grasp?"

Motohama sniffed and swept his arm in an arc. "The world is our oyster, my brother. No longer will we be objects of ridicule and disgust! Our joyful springtime of youth has only begun its dawn! We will level you up into a true legend! For glory, for mankind, for Oppai!"

"FOR OPPAI!"

Their cheers echoed down the street, frightening some poor birds minding their own business and scattering them along the southerly winds. A passing old lady went bug-eyed from across the sidewalk and hurried along, muttering curses and laments about the youth of today. As for the boys themselves? What could they do but cheer and bask in the warm afternoon sun, dreaming of the endless beauties rushing up to admire and fawn over them.

"It's more beautiful than I ever imagined…" Issei sniffed.

Motohama sagely nodded and wiped a tear from his glasses. "No magazine, doujin, or anime can compare." He then patted Issei with mock-condescension on the head. "Alas, it appears the secret garden will be a journey of a thousand miles. Your lacklustre gaming skills impede you every step of the way. If you only had the grace of legends like GiantDad, then we'd be swimming in booty by the weekend."

"Oi, buzz off!" he cried out, escaping Motohama's headlock. "Prodigies like GiantDad appear once in a generation; you can't compare anyone to him! Stop dissing my build, at least I look awesome and I'm not one of those joke builds, like the naked guy wearing a jar as a helmet."

"The Confessor robes are some of the better-looking armor pieces in the game, I'll give you that much," Motohama conceded, before another manic spark gleamed in his eye. "Wait, we forgot to test if you can summon armor!" He snapped to attention with his pen at the ready, only for Issei to wave his hands in front of him.

"Not now!" he hissed, eyeballing the street. "We've done a lot today and I'd rather not test out my powers in public!"

Motohama tisked and withheld a curse. "Good point. Okay, that'll be the first thing we test after school tomorrow."

The two nodded and resumed their walk, with the forest slowly thinning behind them, giving way to residential buildings. The walk to the clearing was farther than Issei had anticipated, but he chalked it up to another secrecy advantage in their favor. Next time, he'd bring a bicycle.

He shook his head and stepped forward when a twinge of pain went up his arm, causing him to wince and grasp it. Motohama, ever the observant friend, took immediate notice and rushed to his side.

"Everything alright?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Issei said, trying to sound reassuring through his trembling. "Just nerves, that's all."

"Dude, you're a genius at finding hiding spots at school, but shitty at lying. Matsuda and your parents will find out this secret sooner than you can say 'git gud,'" Motohama joked, though his gaze focused on Issei's arm. "Is your arm still hurting? I guess magical healing isn't an all-cure."

"I guess so. Game devs and anime writers don't focus too much on that part, so we don't have a way to compare," he replied, clenching his arm. Staring at it, the thought that he could summon the Elden Ring equivalent of a magic wand sent an odd feeling rippling down his chest, neither negative nor positive. "At least we know never to hold a spell in place for too long."

"Mmm-hmm. Some games actually have that mechanic, but not in Elden Ring; the spell is automatically activated if you charge it for too long, so I don't know why the Black Flame exploded like that in your hand." Motohama jotted down another note. "I'll have to write up a new folder on story and gameplay segregation if this keeps up."

"I think we should've expected this," Issei said, checking his arm once the phantom pain vanished. "We used to argue our heads off on how spells from games and TV would and wouldn't work in real life."

"Yeah, but none of us were actually serious," Motohama countered. "At best, it was a thought experiment disguised as an anime dick-measuring contest. The kami have a black sense of humor."

"If they're laughing, I don't get the joke." Issei stared at his palm and the same odd sensation returned. "Don't get me wrong, I was geeking out every minute I realized I could cast magic in real life, but nothing makes sense here. The devil bastard existing means there was already magic and other weird shit out in the world, which I'm guessing most people don't know about. But of all the people for weird shit to happen to, why me? And why Elden Ring magic of all things?"

It was absurd on every level, though the concept wasn't totally out of the blue for him. Gamified magic systems were a trope in light novels, even if the setting wasn't an actual video game. Those settings shared similar patterns, and most of them were fairly generic in terms of layout and worldbuilding. But for a system to copy a recently-released game and carry quirks like not seeing a status menu? Issei freely admitted he wasn't exactly a genius, but even he could tell that something about the situation wasn't adding up.

Motohama huffed and scratched his head, a frown flickering on his face. "Asking the hardball questions, eh? I'm just as clueless as you are, dude. It does smell fishy, I admit it. But unless a fairy or a travel companion suddenly appears and explains everything, it'll be up to us to find the answers."

"And how are we supposed to do that?"

"Beats me."

Hearing those words from Motohama wasn't reassuring in the slightest, but in the end, all Issei could do was sigh and pull himself together. "Welp, here's to hoping things will clear up soon."

Motohama did an impression of raising a can for a toast. "We can drink to that at least. You got any soda back home?"

"If Mom hasn't thrown Dad's stash out."

Continuing their trek to Issei's house, the teens' previous cheer air grew subdued. Issei frowned at his friend's contemplative humming and slightly somber look, a far cry from his usual self.

'Come on, Issei! ' he chided himself. 'It's like Motohama said, you can cast magic! The greatest opportunity a guy could have! You should be spouting off all the crazy fantasies you dreamed of as a kid that you want to come to life!'

But he didn't. Not simply because no idea came to his mind, but because the uneasy churn refused to go away, no matter how much he willed it to.

Then, right as they approached the crossroads, a strange scent wafted into Issei's nostrils.

"Hey, you smell that?"

Motohama stopped and looked at him strangely before sniffing the air. "Yeah, it's kinda sweet…reminds me of honey mochi…also roasted nuts? Is there a candy store nearby?"

"Maybe a new one opened up?"

A sudden grumbling from Issei's stomach cut them short, causing his cheeks to flush briefly. The two friends stared at each other before coming to a single, inevitable conclusion:

"I've got pocket change."

"I'll repay you tomorrow."

With that, they dashed in the direction of the tantalizing scent, away from their planned route. Treating himself to a sweet after that workout sounded extremely appealing to Issei. Come to think of it, he didn't notice how hungry he was.

'I ate plenty before we left, though. Another thing to pile up on today's weird things list.'

They ran through the streets, following the growing aroma, until they came to a stop in front of a large warehouse facing the outskirts of the forests. The smell was so strong it hung over them like a mist. Issei couldn't stop his drooling as visions of delicious candy filled his brain. All he had to do was go through the unlocked door -

sniff

It was brief. So fleeting, in fact, that Issei of a week ago wouldn't have thought much of it. Just another odd fragrance infused with the aroma of sweets.

But Issei of yesterday?

'…I know that smell.'

It was impossible to forget.

Especially when he'd been bathed in it.

He grabbed Motohama by the collar and jerked him away from the building, causing him to yelp.

"Wha-what was that for!?" he yelled.

"Don't you think this is a little bit suspicious?" Issei hissed, gesturing at the building. "A giant warehouse, away from the main streets, with no one around? And don't you smell the other thing besides the food?"

Motohama blinked and took a long look at the warehouse. It didn't scream candy factory, not with peeling walls and a broken, rusted padlock at the doorstep.

"What other thing?" the bespectacled boy asked, a tremor in his voice.

"Copper. You know what else smells like copper?"

Motohama pursed his lips, which made Issei think he'd brush it off, and he'd have to drag his friend away. Fortunately, his face rapidly grew pale. "Oh shit."

Issei released the shirt collar and began to back away. "I think we can call the cops now. I don't wanna find out what's inside."

"Way ahead of you," Motohama replied, matching Issei's footsteps in tandem. He reached for his phone and was about to pull it out of his pocket-

"Oh, how rude. After I went through all this trouble to set this little welcome up for you."

The door exploded.

"GET DOWN!"

Without a second thought, Issei grabbed Motohama and pulled him down to the ground, narrowly missing the hunk of metal that flew over their heads. A crash rang out behind them, and Issei gulped when he saw the broken remnants of trees where the door flew and crashed into them. The door itself? Out of sight. The scraping of steel snapped his attention away, and the coppery odor multiplied tenfold. Pitch-black claws grasped the top of the entrance and tore it open with an ear-rending shriek, revealing glowing red eyes staring directly at the teens - all five of them; two pairs on each side and one lone eye in its forehead.

The final shred of metal guarding them from the monster fell to another swipe of those claws. Motohama whimpered as two insectoid legs reached out from the darkness and impaled the sidewalk. With a raspy groan, the monster walked - skittered, whatever it did - into the sunlight and gave them a wicked smile, dropping with blood and filled with rotten canines.

It was vaguely human, at least in shape. Covered in swampish scales and gleaming with sweat, it towered two heads above them, even higher considering the legs that propped it up. A mane of hair white as bone fell from behind the two curved horns that adorned its head. Its feet resembled a bird's, complete with yellowish scales and wicked talons, only sleeker in shape. When it puffed up its chest, Issei received an eyeful of its nonexistent crotch and the -

"Six…six…six boobs?" he heard his friend utter. "D's and G's…no…bigger?"

All Issei could do was nod. Six melon-sized, oily globes, pairs stacked atop each other thrice, each one glistening with purple sweat and only a dull scale covering their nipples.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" the monster asked, every syllable dripping from its mouth a vicious taunt. It sounded like a woman, but its echo was far deeper than any girl Issei had heard before. "But I cannot blame you. It will be the last sight you shall ever see, so there is no harm in…indulgence~'

The way it drew out the last word sent shivers up Issei's spine, breaking him from the boob stack's hypnotic sway.

"What the hell is that?" he whispered. To his great dismay, the creature instantly zeroed in on him, slitted pupils narrowing against those baleful red eyes.

"So you're the source of that delightful scent…" A long, purple tongue licked the underside of its clammy lips. "To think that you are nothing but a mere child…I'm almost ashamed." It then traced a finger on its breasts - 'don't stare!' - and held up a drop of purple sweat. "No wonder you came rushing in without a second thought. Most mortals would hesitate at first once my lure hooks them, but children tend to come running blindly."

Issei paled as he screamed at his body to move. What did it mean by scent? Was it spying on them? And from what it was saying, was it the reason for the candy smell?

'I still smell it,' he winced, his nose wrinkling. 'But everything else…gross.'

The monster's middle eye darted to Motohama, who was reaching for his phone, and it wagged a clawed finger.

"I wouldn't do that, little bug. Open your eyes and ears and take a good look around."

Issei raised his head and saw that a blue shimmer had colored the sky, muting the sun. The chirping of birds and insects had vanished as well. Currently, only the sound of his rampant heartbeat, Motohama's squeaky gasps and the monster's teeth-grinding breathing scraped his eardrums.

"What did you d-do?" Issei asked, raising his voice as high as he could. Any higher and he'd be squeaking. The monster idly waved its finger in a circle.

"A little parlor trick to ensure my meal isn't interrupted. Communication circles and mortal technology are useless here, so your friend's toy won't be of much help." Motohama nearly dropped his phone at the proclamation. "Rather garish for short-notice work, but I'll be done long before any overseer takes notice. Pesky devil pillars and their anal-retentive attitude, always sniffing around every speck of dust in their territory."

Amidst the terror gripping him, one word stood out to the brown-haired teen. "Wait…devil? You're a devil?"

The monster's eyes blinked in unison and the corners of its grinning lips twitched. "Oh, so you aren't some ignorant mouse. Peculiar, you don't strike me as the knowledgeable type."

Issei gulped and slowly clambered to his feet. "I met one of your kind the other day. Didn't make a great impression."

The monster tilted its head, its eyes briefly narrowing at him. Before Issei could react, it threw its head backward, and a bark of grating laughter escaped from its throat.

"HAHA! A fledgling! After so long, this is truly my lucky day!" Issei fought against his trembling legs as the monster lowered its head and flexed its claws. A rustle was heard, and two large, batlike wings sprouted from behind its back. "To answer your question, boy, I am indeed a devil. Once, I was great. I fought legions that shook the earth, feasted on succulent flesh, free to do as I wished, only to be cast out like garbage! Devolved and mutated into this wretched form!" It clenched its teeth as its body shook. "But even to a castaway like myself, all mortals are nothing but prey. For so long, I was forced to resort to eating beggars and drug-addled minnows just to sustain my powers. Do you know what it's like, to gnaw on every bone and ounce of flesh so you can last just a little longer!?"

Rage slipped into the devil's voice as its insectoid legs stomped. As it ranted, a heated roil swirled in Issei's gut. His fists clenched tight as the monster's wrath-filled rant stopped and the wicked grin returned.

"But it doesn't matter anymore. Your magic is strong, far better than any magician I've ripped apart! You shall be my finest meal, and I will starve no longer! Take comfort that in your death, your meaningless life will renew mine!"

In a sudden whiplash, it cradled its cheek, and its face was touched by an almost impish expression.

"The worm next to you will provide a nice dessert. As mercy, I shall endeavor to be quick. Too much fear hardens the meat, after all."

…

…oh, so that's what it was.

"At least die knowing that your insignificant life served the noble calling of your betters. Consider it a small token of my generosity."

It was like before, waiting for death in that dark alley. He was afraid back then as well. But amidst the fear and the impending doom, one sensation stood out. He'd never really felt it before. Never had a reason. But now? When that devil, that monster, threatened his friend?

It was volcanic.

The long-held breath in Issei's throat was finally released. Not a chance.

"I-If you think I'm gonna stand here and let you eat me, you've got another thing coming, you six-boobed freak!" he cried out, even as his legs threatened to give out under him.

The devil, however, merely smiled in amusement.

"And how do you intend to stop me, exactly? You are no mortal champion. Your magic is raw and powerful, but I know the traits of a novice. I bet you can barely break a twig with those arms." It lowered itself to the ground and stamped on the asphalt, leaving a foot-shaped crater in its wake. "Cease your bravado and hold still. My scent can be rather pleasing; I guarantee your end will be swift and painless, minor discomforts excluded."

His first thought was to run. To invoke the Joestar Secret Technique, grab Motohama, and hightail it away from the monster.

'Yeah, that'd never work. I'd die before I could even blink.'

That left only one option.

Rise, ye Tarnished.

Set forth, and conquer.

"I don't have all day, human. Don't shame my courtesy."

A nervous smile crept up on Issei as he settled into a guarded stance, with one arm behind his back. What came out of his mouth was fueled by nothing short of false confidence and empty prayer. "You know, before we do anything, I just want to say that your boobs are magnificent. Six pairs? Man, if it wasn't for…everything else…I'd love to motorboat those puppies."

The monster blinked, utterly confounded. Even Motohama gaped at him with a twitching eye.

"Is… Is that supposed to flatter me?"

"No." His hand gripped the heavy object. "But maybe this will."

"What do you-"

A howling spiral of wind flew from Issei's sword swing toward the devil. It barely had time to raise an arm before the attack tore at its skin, scattering black blood across the pavement. Not allowing it a chance to recover, Issei sent another Storm Blade careening toward the devil.

He turned to Motohama. "RUN, YOU IDIOT!"

The boy screamed and scrambled away into the treeline. The Ash of War skill struck the devil again, eliciting a pained hiss as it lightly buckled from the force of the attack. Staring at its bloodied arm, the monster snapped its gaze toward Issei and narrowed its eyes at the broadsword that appeared from seemingly nowhere. Issei flinched as its second pair of eyes honed in on the Seal tied to his other hand.

Issei tried to form a grin, only for it to vanish as the sharp cracking of knuckles rang amidst the wind.

"So the rodent can bite," the devil hissed, red eyes flashing red. "If you wish to spit upon my courtesy, very well. As they say, the harder you work on a meal…

It puffed out its chest and unsheathed its talons.

"The better it tastes!"

Every instinct screaming at him, Issei threw himself to the side just as an insect leg skewered the spot where he stood. Picking himself up, he saw the leg snap up and fly toward him. With a grunt, he raised his left arm, and the Brass Shield snapped into existence, blocking the incoming attack.

Or at least, the sharp end.

'Holy fuck!' Issei mentally screamed, stumbling backward and righting himself up. Looking at his shield, relief swept through him as it remained intact, save for a scar on the ornamentation. 'This is one sturdy shield. My arm hurts like a bitch though.'

He barely had time to dwell upon it further, however, when another leg pierced the air. Twisting himself, he let the blow glance off his shield and swung at the overextended appendage. The broadsword sliced at the greenish limb, causing the devil to hiss and back away. Issei gripped the sword and sent another Storm Blade at the limb.

The sharpened wind spiral carved through chitin and muscle, provoking another cry of pain from the monster. With his heart beating faster than a speeding racecar, Issei sprinted toward the stunned limb and swung.

"AAARRGGH!"

The leg plopped to the road, severed from the limb. All that connected it was a stump dripping with black blood.

"MY LEG!" The devil howled in pain and bared its fangs to the youth. "You little turd! You think some cheap weapon-swapping is going to stop me!?"

"It cut off your leg, didn't it?" Issei retorted, his muscles throbbing at their exertion.

The devil bellowed and leapt forward, fangs bared and the promise of agony on its lips. Raising his shield high, Issei recoiled as the razor-sharp claws raked against the metal. A blow came from below, ready to tear his stomach open, but Issei forced himself down and sent a mental pulse to the shield. In an instant, the shield glowed white and the second blow harmlessly bounced off it. A kick that should've sent him flying instead only pushed him back a foot, and he didn't miss how the devil winced after that blow. The remaining arthropod leg came down from above, and Issei sidestepped as it impaled the air right next to him.

'Now!'

The sword swung. A storm roared. Another limb…reduced to ribbons.

"AAAAARRRRGGHHHH!" The devil stumbled back, the force of the Skill overpowering its resilient body. Once it righted itself, it stood dumbstruck for a few seconds at the sight of its stumped appendages. Issei himself couldn't believe the sight either.

'I actually did that?'

Filled with disbelief and slight giddiness, the boy couldn't help what came next.

"Uh, you don't have much of a leg to stand on, so why don't you beat it?"

Five red eyes locked onto his form, freezing him in place from their sheer intensity. The snarl reverberating from the devil's trembling form felt like an approaching bulldozer. Clawed hands curled into fists, filled with promises of endless suffering.

"...that's it. My wretched master? Fine. I can wait. The overseers? Fine. A temporary obstacle. But you? Some half-formed amoeba that thinks he's dangerous because of a little stinger with paltry wind magic?"

One burst of speed later, Issei found himself standing face-to-face with the monster, pure wrath exuding from every fibre of its being.

"Know your place."

The slap came out of nowhere, and it was only thanks to his shield that Issei's stomach didn't cave in. The shock of the blow, however, was way stronger than anything he'd endured before, sending him tumbling down the street. Cursing at the numbness running through his body, Issei scrambled to his feet even as his body protested. But when he tried to grip his sword -

'Damn it!'

His eyes widened as he stared at the weapon, lying on the asphalt far away from him.

'Don't panic, Issei, you've still got this!' he thought, biting his lip. 'You just need to grab it before-'

A sharp kick punted the sword into the green, and Issei's stomach fell as he stared at the angry devil.

'That happens.'

Another burst, and he found himself hauled up by the neck, gazing into the eyes of the monster. From a distance, even with their creepiness, they looked somewhat human. But up close and personal, they were anything but. Rimmed with green and bloodshot sclerae, their swirling red irises converged into a slit blacker than black, radiating with hatred and wrath Issei hadn't thought possible. Not for a human.

"Not so tough without your prick, are you, boy?" it spat and began to squeeze, cutting off Issei's breath. "Now do me a fucking favor and die quietly."

Issei gasped as he felt his breath cut off, watching as the devil opened his mouth and closed in, ready to bite his whole head off. Its tongue slithered and wriggled, waiting to taste its first morsel of flesh.

But there was one fact the devil wasn't aware of.

'Fuck…you!'

Issei didn't need a sword.

"Hm? Wha -"

CRACK!

The devil's skull heaved sideways as the Grafted Dragon smashed into its side, forcing its grip to slacken and drop the teen. As it roared with pain and shook its head, Issei inhaled and let out a war cry, punching it right in the torso. The dragon's eyes lit up as fire erupted from its maw, sending the devil lurching backward. Issei panted as air returned to his lungs, watching as the devil groaned and stared at its wounded chest. What was once pristine skin was now marred by a scorched, sizzling scar.

Seething, the devil glared at Issei, and he braced himself for another fit of rage, only for it to freeze in surprise.

"A Sacred Gear? That was the source of the scent?"

Again with those words: Sacred Gear.

'The other bastard mentioned them like they were something really important, and now this one?'

Against the advice of the voice that told him to shut up and kill the monster, Issei swallowed and asked. "Hey, what's a Sacred Gear?"

The devil's eyes narrowed as it entered a guarded stance.

"So you truly are a fledgling, to be so ignorant of the weapon inside of you. Shame you'll die in ignorance; you'll get no answers from me."

"Not a fan of calling it quits?" Issei asked, opening the dragon's maw and bending his knees. 'Please say yes, please say yes!'

"The day I retreat from a human child is the day I rip out my own heart."

Issei cursed his luck. 'Is one lucky break too much to ask?'

Clawed hands spread out and a fiery purple aura enveloped the devil. Rearing its head back, Issei braced himself for the worst. 'Is it gonna breathe fire? Lightning? A supersonic roar that'll shatter my eardrums?'

With a horrid shriek, the devil belched forth a torrent of acid!

Panicking, Issei jumped out of the way right as the stream of greenish liquid splattered over, melting the asphalt and leaving deep holes in their wake and the stench of corpses.

'That is disgusting, and now I never want to use acid as a weapon again. Note to self: Don't let a drop of that thing touch you!'

The devil didn't let him ruminate on that thought, because it spewed more acid at the teen. With a yelp, Issei dodged the stream and raised his shield. He charged and the devil took notice, rearing for another acid burst. In a flash of inspiration, he activated Barricade Shield and closed his eyes as the acid splashed all over his shield. The burning odor of rot wafted all over him and drops of acid flew past him, but thankfully, he remained untouched.

"What is this? That's no magic shield, and my acid burns through enchantments. How is it still intact?"

Instead of replying, Issei cocked back his fist and punched it again in the chest, drawing another howl of pain as fire scorched its body. It seemed to have mentally prepared itself, though, because it leaped back and showered the road with acid. Praying the Barricade Shield would hold, Issei tried to find a path forward amidst the lethal shower, but the road had turned into a cratered mess.

"Not so tough when you can't land those exploding punches, aren't you?" the devil mocked him, its smugness returning. "I've never heard of a Sacred Gear like yours. For a moment, I thought it was the Boosted Gear itself, but it seems my worries are unfounded." It splayed its palms open, revealing holes in each of them, spewing fountains of acid.

'Hell, its whole body looks like it's sweating acid!' Issei thought, unable to lift his gaze. The asphalt around her feet dissolved into steaming nothingness as acid waterfalls cascaded from every sweat gland on her body…including her triple pair of breasts.

'I don't know if I should be having a boner or throwing up,' he felt his face sour as he flexed the dragon's jaw, hiding behind his shield. 'But I have to end this or she'll flood the whole street! If I could only land a punch…without stepping on that acid…'

Another torrent of acid broke his concentration, and he grit his teeth as the raging stream blasted his shield. It parted the acid around him, but a few drops landed on his shirt and clothes, melting holes straight through the fabric and exposing his skin. A choked noise escaped from him, especially when the pale glow around his shield started to fade.

'Shit, shit, shit!' he frantically looked around. 'Come on, there's gotta be a solution here! Another shield? Shit, no one carries two shields! And I don't know any defensive spells! If I don't do something now, my skin will melt!'

Right as images of the acid liquefying his skin filled his head, a golden flash enveloped him and a massive weight was now covering his body. The devil itself paused its attack, tilting its head in curiosity.

"Oh, what's this?"

All Issei could do was gape at the iron plate covering his arm. 'I have no fucking clue.'

He was covered from head to toe in black clothing, tinged with smatterings of rust. He still felt his shirt, but the rough feel of leather permeated through the thin fabric. Boots adorned his feet and iron gauntlets covered his hands. A strange skirt encircled his waist, falling to his knees and secured with a belt lined with pouches. A shadow fell over his face, and he tugged the fabric above him to see that a hood had appeared and covered his head, extending down to his chest as a cowl.

'No way…my Confessor Armor?' his eyes swept over the armor that his game character adorned since he started playing. It even had the cloak! 'Motohamma, you are a genius!'

A whoosh pulled him back to reality, and he paled as the devil appeared, inches away from gouging him with its claws. Pivoting as claws scraped his shield, he tried to land another punch, only for the devil to leap back and spray him with more acid. True to his fears, the liquid sizzled as it came into contact with the metal. Thankfully, the stray drops of acid landed on his armor, leaving only singed spots.

'I can't get close, not with the bastard acting like a death sprinkler. Punching his lights out isn't an option…but I don't need to get in close to knock the smugass grin off its face.'

He stared at the Grafted Dragon as the sizzling crescendoed when an idea came to him. 'My Seal's on my left hand, but I need the shield. In the game, I need the menu to swap weapons between hands, but this power isn't 100% like the game, is it?'

He positioned his right arm behind his back and imagined the Seal in its place. To his relief, the weight on his arm vanished and the familiar sensations of rope and stone rubbed against his fingers.

'YES! That's useful!' He stared at the devil as searing heat pooled in his left hand. 'Come on, you ugly bastard…'

The monster raised its palms, ready to spew more acid…right as black flashed.

Heaving, Issei lobbed the charged Black Flame at his opponent, the fireball careening toward the devil at remarkable speed, way faster than he expected. Its eyes widened, and it tried to dodge, but -

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHH!"

The spell collided with it head-on, coating its body in roaring dark fire. It stumbled around, desperately trying to put out the abyssal flames, to no avail. Burnt flesh clogged Issei's nose and the devil wailed in agony, smoke rising from its body. Leaning closer, Issei recoiled at the sight of purple droplets dissolving into fine mist. 'Is it actually evaporating the acid? How hot are those flames?'

He stepped forward and tried to charge another fireball, but pain jolted through his arm. Did he overuse it?

Unfortunately, the devil took notice of his failure and drilled Issei with an infernal stare.

"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING HUMAN!"

Lunging forward, the devil bared acid-coated claws, aiming to tear the boy to kibble. Issei stared at his impending doom, and with mental speed he didn't know he had, only one plan came to mind.

Right as the devil landed on his position, back coated in black fire, Issei swapped his weapons. Shield on the left, and dragon on the right. Praying to whatever deity was listening, he leapt under the devil, landing right below its charred torso. With bent knees, he stared up and gripped the dragon tight. He readied a punch -

But in that moment, the world became awash with gold.

O truest of dragons…

Lend me thy strength…

Help me show this shattered world the greatness of our bloodline…

I am the lord of all that is Golden.

Kneel before thy master, wretches, and tremble at my glory.

Fools and champions, grafted to my skin. Their toil shall become my sword.

Wretched Malenia, leaving me for dead like some mongrel pup.

The unworthy will see.

I am the last scion of the Eternal Marika. My triumph is written in the stars.

The order shall be mine.

So sayeth Godrick, the Grafted Lord.

As one, across time and space, both mortal and demigod bared their soul to their foes.

"Forefathers, one and all…"

"BEAR WITNESS!"

And the heavens shook.

Whipping his arm up, chunks of flame erupted from the dragon's maw. A volcanic force, unlike the city had ever seen, tore through the devil's torso. Fire rained down around them, burning any acid or ichor that would've rained upon the boy. The miniature meteors landed all around him, cratering the acid pools and leaving patches of flame in their wake.

Staring at the destruction, Issei panted heavily with exhaustion as his body trembled. Fire kept burning in the Grafted Dragon's maw, and his arm had fallen numb. A groan pulled him away from the chaotic vista, and his cheeks bulged in disgust as he saw the still-burning devil lying upon the ground, body severed in half and gushing blood all over. Despite its injuries, its upper half heaved and clawed at the ground, desperate to live.

Yet as he beheld the gory sight, an eerie apathy befell Issei. He was sure he'd throw up his lunch soon enough…but all he could feel was an odd calmness or detachment. He wasn't a violent person, not by any means.

But this bastard threatened to kill his friend.

And from what it said, it killed a lot of people beforehand.

Maybe he'd be forgiven for not caring.

With a moan of despair, the devil pushed its torso and inched its face, eyes darting to and fro. When they landed on Issei, they paused. The dragon opened its jaws…

…only for a bitter laugh, tinged with blood to break the silence.

"Hah…what a sight I must be…a devil…weak as I am…brought to heel by some no-name human…not even an exorcist or a hero…" It coughed again, hacking up more blood. The red glow in its eyes began to dim.

Then, it chuckled.

'What's so funny about any of this?'

Yet the devil kept talking, even as the rising of its chest slowed.

"Eh, what the hell. Might as well…screw them…over…self-righteous pricks…"

Inhaling, the devil forced its head up and narrowed its cycloptic eye at the teen.

"Listen well…human…my kind…rules here…they're not deformed. They're your…and your friend's… wettest dreams come true. They'll find out…about this…and come seeking you…tempting you…a chain you'll never escape from…"

A crazed smile began forming on its face as Issei stepped back. 'There are more devils here? And what do you mean by 'not deformed'?'

He wanted to ask more, but the words became lodged in his throat. The sight of the devil's burning remnants pinned him where he stood.

"They claim they're…cultured…noble…enlightened…bah!" It spat, dissolving the road into tar. "Platitudes and empty words. They'll wring you dry…and leave you rot…I wanted a little fun…to enjoy life a little more…and they turned me into thissss…"

Trembling and on its final breaths, the monster slowly lifted a finger. "Wretched devils…that's what…we are. We take…what we want…and they'll…want…you. Never letting go…never accepting no. Remember…these words…boy. Re…mem…ber…"

It let loose one final cackle…and breathed its last. With glazed eyes, it fell to the ground, utterly unmoving.

The words echoed in Issei's mind over and over.

'They'll want you.'

He sighed and hung his head. Tears stung his eyes as he stared at the dragon's flaming jaw.

'What am I gonna do now?'

"Um…Issei? Bro?"

Issei's head shot up in the direction of his friend's voice. Motohama stood behind a tree, fear etched all over him as he gripped the bark. His bespectacled gaze darted to the bisected, burning corpse, and his face wrinkled in disgust.

"Is it…dead?"

"...yeah."

"You sure?"

Issei glanced at the corpse again and rubbed his forearm. "I don't think there's coming back from…that."

"...oh. " His voice was soft and frail, and that speared a metaphorical lance through his friend's guts. "Okay, I'll take your word for it." Motohama nodded, glancing at his armor. "So…I was right about the armor."

"Hmm. You sure were." With a mental push, the armor faded in gold dust, revealing his sweat-soaked and acid-burned clothes.

"Handy. Looks good on you." His gaze fell to the Grafted Dragon. "So that's the weapon skill in real life?"

"That's what it looks like. Kinda…packs oomph, right?"

"Heh. Oomph. No shit, dude. No shit. And Black Flame…it actually fits."

Even gods can burn.

Issei couldn't help but agree.

His friend then looked around with quaking knees, as if trying to find another trap the devil had laid for them, hiding in plain sight. "Can we go?"

Leave?

Asphalt sizzled under smoldering flames and bubbling acid. The line of trees that the door cleaved through remained lying on the ground. The warehouse's entrance was gaping wide, a torn top distinguishing it from its previous blandness.

"...yeah. Yeah, we should do that."

No way they were gonna tell anyone about this.

And so they bolted, leaving a scene of ruination behind them.

Had they stayed for a little while longer, they would've noticed the absence of the blue haze in the sky and how the sounds of nature played again. Furthermore, the purple circle blazing to life from nothing would've caught the boys' attention.

Including the slender figure that rose from it.