Chapter 177: Excellent Fire Bearer, Fearless!

The screen faded, transitioning to a cinematic cutscene.

The opening scene revealed a dark, desolate dungeon. Rats scurried past, which slowly panned to unveil the general surroundings of this grim setting.

The perspective shifted to a prison cell, where a skeletal corpse sat lifelessly against the wall, dimly lit by the flickering torch.

A low, ominous voice broke the silence:

"The ring of darkness represents the curse of immortality. Thus, the undead are captured and sent to the north, locked away in this prison until the end of the world.

It is your destiny, too."

The camera shifted again, focusing on a specific cell. There, hidden in the shadows, lay the character Song Ren had just created. 

"Wait a minute," muttered Song Ren, shocked, "how did I become a corpse?"

Song Ren was shocked. After so much time tweaking the character's appearance to achieve an unpleasant but full-of-personality look, it was all for nothing.

The moment the game began, the character turned into a corpse, completely unrecognizable. What had it been for?

Before the frustration could settle in, the in-game character suddenly lifted its head. A ray of sunlight streamed through a sky above.

With a pop, a skeleton-like corpse fell from the sky, landing on the cell floor. From the corpse, a white light floated up—a familiar sight for anyone who had played Dark Souls. That white light signified a pick-up item.

The corpse's arrival signaled the departure of the knight who had brought it. Song Ren recalled seeing this scene in the promotional trailer at exhibition, although it had been incomplete.

From the background and details provided so far, the setting is clear. Players in the earlier installment had taken on the role of ashes, akin to incombustible garbage—things that couldn't even burn. In this game, the undead hospital was a garbage dump for undead beings, a place to discard the immortals.

After piecing everything together, Song Ren maneuvered the character toward the corpse and picked up the item, obtaining a key to open the cell.

The basic controls almost identical to the previous game. The combat system seemed unchanged, bringing a wave of relief. If the mechanics hadn't changed, it meant there might be less suffering this time around.

After all, Song Ren had already spent hundreds of hours mastering the earlier game. Surely getting started with this new installment would be a breeze, right?

Wrong. It didn't take long to discover a glaring issue.

"Why am I so overweight? Aren't I a knight? I have the armor, but why am I holding a broken sword instead of a proper shield and sword?"

Confusion turned to disbelief. "What is this nonsense? Just because I'm a living corpse now, I've lost all my strength?"

In the earlier Dark Souls, even the most ill-equipped characters started with a weapon—at least a chicken leg. But now? Just a tiny broken sword? Was the game forcing players to scavenge for weapons right from the start?

And then there was the weight problem. Despite starting with a knight's armor, the character was overweight, making even basic movements like rolling or walking as slow as a hare that lost to the tortoise.

What made this worse was that the starting equipment wasn't heavy, so how was it already too much to handle?

Watching the character roll sluggishly across the ground, Song Ren could feel the pain.

"Maybe this is an added difficulty?" the thought crossed his mind. "Knights start overweight but have higher defense, while other characters have lower defense and better mobility?"

Another idea struck. "I could remove some equipment for the sake of more agile movements. Is this the game's intended balance?"

As an excellent fire passer, one of the biggest advantages after playing Dark Soul is developing a unique mindset. When encountering seemingly unreasonable elements in the game, it's natural to consider their meaning rather than assuming they are mistakes by the designers.

Choosing a knight as the starting class but beginning with no shield, no sword, and overweight armor seemed weird at first. However, after some thought, it felt like a deliberate choice that aligned with the game's philosophy.

Holding the broken sword in hand brought a new sense of frustration. The weapon's stats on the panel were almost laughable. In the previous game, this kind of item was something one would reluctantly keep in the backpack, serving no real purpose, just a trophy of the day's past.

A search around the cell confirmed it—this broken sword was the only valuable weapon at this early stage.

As for the armor, after some deliberation, the helmet and heavy pieces were discarded. It wasn't a decision made lightly. After all, the experience gained as a seasoned player from the previous game carried over, despite starting as undead in the prequels.

While many veteran players often joked about the armor in Dark Soul being as flimsy as paper, it undeniably offered some fault tolerance, particularly for novices and a mental blessing. Defense-oriented armor had its merits, but it came with a crucial limitation: weight. A heavy load could hinder rolling, which is undeniably a core mechanic in Dark Souls.

Faced with the choice between defense and flexibility, the latter prevailed. Shedding the armor brought a strange sense of ironical relief. Standing shirtless felt almost like embracing wind. I feel I can cut an enemy on each step.

The shirtless character reflected an unusual sense of loneliness. Even when customizing the character's face, loneliness had been the chosen theme, fitting for a knight who walked a solitary path.

With the cell key in hand, the iron door creaked open. The oppressive darkness brought unease. Visibility was severely limited, far more so than in the Ashes Cemetery of the previous game, which at least offered some grayish light.

This cell, however, was pitch-black, feeling closer to a room in hell.

The sporadic mobs are curled up in dark corners with no visible health bars. If one doesn't look carefully, it's easy to miss them.

Fortunately, these living corpses are simple to deal with—easier even than the ordinary ones on the high wall of Lothric. They show no aggression at all, though what lies ahead remains uncertain.

Along the way, red, bloodstained messages appear, teaching basic operations.

"The damage is low! In the previous game, it only took one or two hits, but now it takes three or four. Has the difficulty increased, or are the stats weakened?"

This thought lingered after dispatching several living corpses on the path. Still, it wasn't worth much concern, and the exploration continued.

In the early stages of the prison, the challenges were minimal. A couple of dead bodies lay in wait but were easily defeated with the broken sword at hand.

The only notable difference? The prison scene felt especially dim and oppressive. Compared to the starting area in the previous game, Ashes graveyard, this setting was more unsettling.

But after surviving Silent Hill PT, this was nothing. Back then, watching other players' videos with warnings and high-energy commentaries was an intense experience. This, however, felt like a walk in the park.

Progressing further revealed no major challenges, and surprisingly, there were no injuries so far.

"Not bad," my exclamation, than came the thought.

"I'm not who I used to be anymore."

With that sense of growth, the ladder leading out of the well was climbed. At the top awaited the first bonfire.

The sight of the flickering flames made my eyes lit up.

"A bonfire—the first siren to persuade one to quit!"

But there was no fear, only excitement.

Who needs a shield? Who needs weapons? A true fire-bearer know no fear!