The once-ordinary stone suddenly ignited with a soft halo of amber light, reminiscent of a warm campfire. A visible current of warm air radiated from the stone, slowly enveloping Chigusa's entire body.
It wasn't an illusion. Everyone present could clearly feel a wave of warmth and vital energy spreading outward, chasing away the bone-chilling dampness of the cavern.
But the transformation in Chigusa herself was what truly left them speechless. The wound that had been gushing blood moments ago began to slow its hemorrhaging at a rate visible to the naked eye. While the gash didn't fully seal, the lethal bleeding was effectively curbed. A faint, nearly imperceptible trace of color returned to the girl's pallid face, and her breathing grew steady.
"This... this is..." Arong stammered, pointing at the Warm Stone, too shocked to find words.
"Don't celebrate too early. This is just emergency aid," Lynn warned. "If you want her to live, you still need to get her to the surface as fast as possible."
He was right; the crisis wasn't over.
Ouka stood up abruptly and gave Lynn a deep, solemn bow, his voice thick with gratitude and respect. "Lord Lynn... Words cannot express our thanks! The Takemikazuchi Familia owes you two lives!"
"Alright, enough with the formalities," Lynn waved him off impatiently. "Let's get moving. I have no desire to spend the night in this hellhole."
"Right!"
The atmosphere within the party had shifted entirely. While the tension remained, the despair had vanished. Ouka hoisted Chigusa onto his back again, his footsteps far steadier than before.
The journey back to the surface was unexpectedly quiet. Perhaps the fierce battle earlier had terrified any nearby monsters into hiding, or perhaps their luck had finally turned. Regardless, they encountered no significant obstacles until they saw the sunlight streaming down from the cracks in the surface.
The warm light washed over them, dissipating the lingering dampness and the stench of blood from the Dungeon, allowing everyone to let out a long, collective sigh of relief.
"We made it..." Arong collapsed onto the ground, looking as if his bones had been removed.
Ouka carefully lowered Chigusa, propping her against a rock wall. Thanks to the miraculous [Warm Stone], her condition had stabilized. Though she remained unconscious, her breathing was rhythmic, and her complexion had regained a hint of its natural rosy hue.
"Lord Lynn!" Ouka turned toward Lynn and performed a thunderous, ninety-degree bow, the sheer volume of his voice rattling nearby pebbles. "I truly don't know how to thank you! You saved Chigusa's life! If you ever have need of Kashima Ouka, just say the word. I'll walk through hellfire for you without blinking an eye!"
This big guy is certainly straightforward.
"I'm taking Chigusa to the Dian Cecht Familia for treatment immediately. Mikoto, you and the others can catch up later," Ouka said. Without waiting for a response, he slung Chigusa over his back again and sprinted off toward the city district like a man on fire.
Lynn watched his retreating back and scratched his head, feeling a bit helpless.
"Um... Lord Lynn."
Yamato Mikoto stepped forward. Her demeanor was far more reserved than Ouka's, but the gratitude in her eyes was no less intense. She adjusted her slightly disheveled Far Eastern armor, sheathed her katana, and then, facing Lynn, performed a formal kowtow—a standard kneeling greeting from the Far East—her forehead nearly touching the ground.
"Please forgive me, for I lack the words to express the Takemikazuchi Familia's gratitude. We shall carve this kindness into our hearts."
"Hey, hey, get up." Lynn, who couldn't stand such heavy displays of etiquette, quickly stepped forward to help her up. "I told you, it was just on my way. If you keep doing this, I'm going to start taking a detour whenever I see you."
Mikoto sensed the casual sincerity in his tone, realizing he wasn't just being polite, and slowly stood up. Her gaze lingered on him; his face was smeared with dust, but his eyes were startlingly bright, showing no signs of having just endured a desperate battle.
"Regardless, a proper thank you is necessary," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If you would not mind, please allow me to treat you to a meal. I know a place—a tavern highly regarded by all adventurers."
Facing Mikoto's almost submissive politeness, Lynn felt a headache coming on. He had no interest in navigating such serious social situations.
As for a tavern invitation? It was an enticing offer, but then a certain petty, snickering laugh echoed in his mind, and his irritation flared up all over again. He didn't even want to eat anymore.
"I'll pass on the meal. Maybe next time," Lynn waved her off, his expression shifting to one of urgent impatience. "I have some private business—a personal score—to settle right now."
"A personal score?" Mikoto and Arong were both taken aback.
"Anyway, your friend is the priority. Get going," Lynn said, already turning and striding toward the Tower of Babel. He waved over his shoulder without looking back. "See you when I see you."
"Lord Lynn!" Mikoto called out. "The gates of the Takemikazuchi Familia are always open to you! We will never forget this!"
Her only response was Lynn's receding back and a muffled "Understood." As she watched him walk back toward the Dungeon entrance without a hint of hesitation, Mikoto's delicate face was a mix of confusion and admiration.
"What a... strange and powerful man," she whispered.
Lynn, of course, had no time for the admiration of others. His mind was occupied entirely by a single bald head.
"Patches..." he muttered through gritted teeth.
He found a quiet spot and teleported directly back to the 10th Floor. Soon, that "cheap-looking" and eerie man-made cave entrance reappeared before him. This time, Lynn didn't hesitate; he slipped inside instantly. Lightening his footsteps, he moved like an assassin merging with the shadows, silently creeping into the depths of the cave.
Before he even reached the end, a rustling sound and a suppressed, giggling snort reached his ears. A cold smirk played on Lynn's lips.
Found you.
He peeked half his head around the corner into the cavern. Sure enough, crouched beside that solitary wooden chest was a familiar figure—a legend in the Lands Between, and indeed throughout all the Souls games. The man was facing away from the entrance, focused intently on fiddling with the chest's lock, seemingly resetting a mechanism.
As he worked, a shady, "he-he-he... he-he-he" laugh escaped his throat.
Lynn flexed his ankles, took a deep breath, and lunged!
"Take a Tarnished Flying Kick!"
Thud—Augh!
The dull sound of a boot hitting a solid watermelon was accompanied by a comical scream. The bald man, Patches, was sent flying as if hit head-on by a battering ram, landing face-first in the dirt.
Dazed, he pushed himself up. He turned his head and saw Lynn standing by the chest, slowly retracting his right foot. The expression on Patches' face froze instantly.
"You... you you you... How could you be back so fast?!"
"I took the teleport back. Surprise," Lynn said, cracking his knuckles with a mirthless smile. "Long time no see, Patches. Your head is as shiny as ever."
"Friend! My old dear friend!" Patches' small eyes bulged. "If it isn't the Tarnished?!"
"Oh, so you remember me, you bald prick." Lynn began to close the distance, step by step.
"No, no, no! Let me explain! This is a mistake! A massive misunderstanding!" Patches scrambled to get up, but Lynn had already grabbed the collar of his leather armor.
"A mistake?" THUD! A fist slammed into Patches' eye socket. "I'll show you a mistake!" THUD! The other eye got the same treatment, making them perfectly symmetrical. "How long has it been? And you're still pulling that transporter trap crap!"
Lynn's fists fell like rain, leaving Patches howling.
"Mercy! Stop hitting me!" Patches wailed, shielding his head.
After a few more punches, Lynn felt his anger subside and let go. Patches immediately collapsed into a textbook-perfect kowtow, face-down on the ground:
"Lord Tarnished! I was wrong! I'll never try to trick you again!"
Looking at the familiar scene, most of Lynn's anger evaporated. "Alright, stop playing dead. Get up and talk."
"Yes! Yes!" Patches snapped upright, looking like a panda with his two black eyes, and spoke with a fawning grin. "Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you everything!"
"How are you here? This isn't the Lands Between."
"Lord, you've got me there!" Patches put on an expression more aggrieved than a wronged martyr. "I swear, I truly don't know what this hellish place is! One moment, I was hunting for treasure in a cave near Volcano Manor... then I slipped, and when I woke up, I was here!"
"And you somehow managed to install a transporter chest in that situation?"
"He-he, it's a tradition of the trade."
Lynn stared at him and spoke slowly: "Where was the last place we met? What was I doing at the time?"
Patches' small eyes darted around, testing the waters. "The last time we met... it must have been Murkwater Cave? After my shop opened, you bought Margit's Shackle and bolted."
Lynn's eyes flickered.
He remembered now. That was a playthrough where he had chosen the Frenzied Flame ending. To clear the game as fast as possible, he had skipped almost all side quests. He had only visited Patches to buy the Shackle. No wonder the bastard still had the gall to try and trap him.
Having pieced the story together, Lynn looked at the bald man with the panda eyes and felt a sense of the absurd.
Of course it's you, Patches.
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