Chapter 50

To say that the hero Goldmask didn't inspire confidence was an understatement. He looked as if he had burned alive at least five times and spent most of his life (and possibly death) on a diet of pure Erdtree rays.

Standing on the ruined bridge, he silently gazed into the distance, towards the towering Erdtree, lost in thought.

The only reason Kosta even remotely understood why Corhyn held the revered hero in such high regard was the simple fact that Goldmask was, without a doubt, a true tryhard. Perhaps the true tryhard, unlike Kosta, who had inevitably drowned in all the vices of Soulslike games.

After all, Goldmask wandered the world practically naked, clad only in a thin golden ornament that concealed absolutely nothing. And unlike Kosta, who had long since grown accustomed to wearing clothes most of the time, Goldmask had no intention of ever changing his ways.

Who was he, if not the most faithful adherent to the ideals of tryharding?

"Goldmask!" Corhyn's voice trembled with barely restrained emotion under his blindfold. "It's really you! This is an honor! But what am I saying, my name is—"

"…"

Goldmask, his finger still pointing off toward the Erdtree, made the faintest movement(1).

"Oh, so you already know about me!" Corhyn nearly broke into tears.

What disturbed Konstantin the most in this entire situation was that he, somehow, could also subconsciously interpret meaning from the man's finger movements.

Apparently, prolonged exposure to the Primeval Casual had left its mark.

Unfortunately, Kosta hadn't come here to observe the movement of Goldmask's finger—he had come to speak with him. Or rather, at him. Probably.

"Goldmask—"

"Konstantin!" Corhyn nearly shrieked. "You're interrupting Goldmask's divine contemplations!"

Goldmask's finger subtly altered its trajectory.

He had absolutely no problem with the Tarnished speaking.

"Ah!" The priest immediately lowered his head. "I lost myself in the moment… I'm so sorry…"

Of course, Corhyn hadn't forgotten who Kosta was, or that it was him who had first planted the seeds of doubt in his heart. But Goldmask was supposed to be the one to dispel them. The revered hero, the one who understood the Golden Order better than anyone else.

Seeing that the priest wasn't going to interfere anymore, Kosta spoke again.

"My name is Konstantin. Kosta is fine."

"…"

"I want to discuss lore with you."

"…"

Goldmask was clearly giving him his full attention.

Kosta fell silent for a brief moment, then—perhaps for dramatic effect—he enacted the principle of regression.

"Radagon is Marika(2)."

"…!"

Goldmask's finger trembled uncontrollably. Brother Corhyn, as if hearing something truly forbidden, stood frozen, mouth agape.

Kosta raised an eyebrow, surprised by the intensity of their reaction.

"Easy with the finger movements, I haven't even gotten to the lore-theorist speculations yet…"

Unfortunately for Goldmask and Corhyn, this was only the beginning of what Konstantin had to say.

The history of Queen Marika's ascension had been buried beneath centuries of secrecy, but no one had ever bothered to warn Kosta about that—so he had no problem laying it all out.

He spoke of where the Goddess had been born and why she had come to despise the Omenborn.

He spoke of who the Lands Between had worshiped before the Goddess and how the Omenborn were connected to the dragons.

He spoke of the sacrifice Marika had made to become a Goddess.

He spoke of how she waged war afterward, ensuring that faith in the Erdtree spread and took root throughout the Lands Between.

And he spoke of the Ages—the era when the Erdtree was at the height of its power, and the era when it had begun to wither.

Without even realizing it, Kosta had just spoken more heresy in a single conversation than the Lands Between had heard in centuries.

At first, the two followers of the Golden Order, their eyes wide, tried to listen and comprehend what he was saying. But by the end…

Corhyn was kneeling, blindfold removed, staring at the Erdtree as if seeing it for the first time. Goldmask's finger had stopped moving.

"There's a theory," Kosta continued, his tone as neutral as ever, "that the real Erdtree burned down long ago(3). What we see now is an illusion. The Golden Lineage has always been known for its illusions."

He would verify this later. But honestly, even without confirmation, he was already fairly certain it was true.

Konstantin turned to the illusion of the commoner who had been following them, locking eyes with it. The cursed child of the Goddess saw no hatred in the Tarnished's gaze—only respect.

And that only made the rage burn hotter.

Morgott's projection, having listened to everything from beginning to end, was on the verge of madness.

Yes! Their illusions were flawless, may the Greater Will bear witness! But right now, this acknowledgment felt more like mockery!

What he had always prided himself on was being turned against him—not as an attack on the Golden Lineage, not as an insult, but simply… as a historical fact. And somehow, that made it even worse.

Now he understood why Melina had chosen to betray them. The root of the problem was this arrogant Tarnished, this outsider who had brought a new Outer God into their world. One who dared to place himself on the level of their Goddess. One who sought to destroy what they had worked so hard to build.

Then again, wasn't it they who had let the Lands Between deteriorate to this point?

And, most terrifying of all—what if the Tarnished's words were…

…simply the cold, undeniable truth?

He, a child born with cursed attributes, had seen enough to recognize the accuracy in the Tarnished's words. He understood his mother's hatred—but to accept that…

Morgott exhaled, straightening his posture. He turned to Melina, who stood quietly at the side, watching the Tarnished.

The demigod was about to speak—but then, he noticed something.

On the girl's left hand, on her ring finger, gleamed an old, worn-down ring.

His gaze sharpened so intensely that Melina, misinterpreting it slightly, blushed and hurriedly pulled her hood down further.

"I'll send you an invitation to the ceremony, brother…"

Their relationship wasn't that bad, after all. At the very least, they weren't enemies—and as for other relatives…

Well, options were limited.

"…"

Morgott, feeling his projection fading, dismissed it.

All across Altus Plateau, the illusions began to dissipate—there was no point in keeping them anymore. The damned Tarnished, who had deluded himself into thinking he was equal to the Goddess, could see right through them anyway.

Let's see how well he fared against a properly organized coalition of frightened lapdogs.

That said, compared to Brother Corhyn, Morgott's dissipated projection was in fantastic condition. The priest was completely devastated. Before he had even begun to embrace Goldmask's wisdom, he had already been shattered by the very man who had planted those seeds of doubt in the first place.

Seeds that had blossomed into an entire forest.

"Goldmask… Say something… Goldmask?"

To be fair, Kosta had gotten a bit carried away. At some point, he had stopped paying attention to Goldmask's finger movements.

The hero stood completely motionless.

And it quickly became apparent why.

Goldmask—one of the most devoted followers of the Golden Order—had become so disillusioned with his faith that…

He had chosen to die.

His finger trembled one last time.

Then, the revered hero collapsed, lifeless.

A massive surge of runes flowed into the nearest accidental murderer of a legend, along with a Rune of Perfect Order(3), something akin to a Great Rune—capable of reshaping the world.

Kosta had just skipped an entire questline in one move.

He cleared his throat. The material illusion nearly disintegrated from the sheer energy influx—but it held.

"I… didn't mean to…"

Melina averted her gaze from the corpse of the creature, whose body had been held together only by its unwavering faith in the perfection of the order created by her mother.

Fortunately, history was quite forgetful, and even if the spirits carried whispers of this incident, they would eventually fade.

At least, Melina hoped so.

"I see…"

Brother Corhyn, kneeling before the body of Goldmask… No, he had not gone mad(4). Instead, he let out a confused smile.

After all, the one he had wished to call his teacher had, in his final moments, asked him to follow the one who had killed him—even if unintentionally.

…It was unintentional, right?

"You sought me out for a reason, Konstantin? Everything you told me… What is it that you seek? Surely, you don't mean for me to—"

"I need a specialist, someone knowledgeable in their craft, for my ending," Kosta responded calmly.

One could go a long way simply by praising the Sun—a symbol of hope and light that remained undimmed by the hundreds—no, thousands—of retries. After all, it was the unwavering belief that every boss would eventually fall.

Unfortunately, the Sun alone wouldn't get far without preparation. If he truly intended to spread faith in the Sun, he needed to lay the groundwork.

"You want to grant me the power to dictate the laws?" Corhyn laughed nervously.

He had thought about it ever since he saw how Stormveil Castle had changed. He knew he could help this fledgling faith take root. But never had he expected that the one spreading his creed throughout the Lands Between would come to him for help.

Heresy. Absolute heresy. A scribe and a priest, one who had devoted his life to the Golden Order, who had spent most of his conscious existence studying its incantations, was now about to contribute to a new faith that would overthrow the current one.

And yet, considering what he had heard—the fact that their world was barely holding together anyway…

Corhyn's laughter grew even more strained.

He began to feel as if this Tarnished possessed some manner of influence over the mind—some unseen force compelling him to submit, to believe. It was as though a shard of the Sun itself had taken root within him, filling him with light and hope.

A part of him wanted to just go mad. But somehow, he had the sinking feeling that this lunatic, now unrecognizable from their last encounter, wouldn't let him surrender so easily.

Even the one he had wished to call his teacher had blessed Konstantin.

If the Golden Order was imperfect, then it simply needed to be made better—even if it ceased to be the Golden Order at all. And Corhyn could help make it better.

After all, as a Tarnished, hadn't he always dreamed of aiding the future king in bringing order?

His dream had been twisted, turned inside out, and fulfilled to the absolute limit.

Perfectly in line with the setting.

"I don't really have a choice, do I…" Corhyn exhaled, gradually calming himself. "But I alone won't be enough, Konstantin. Or should I start addressing you as 'Your Majesty'?"

Kosta frowned.

"Just Kosta is fine. I'll take you to someone who can help."

"Huh?"

Konstantin's illusionary projection grabbed Corhyn's shoulder. The space around them twisted.

Corhyn blinked, disoriented. In an instant, the madman had transported him to a ruined temple where, seemingly indifferent to their sudden arrival…

A massive turtle, wearing a bishop's hat, rested peacefully.

'Who in the world put a hat on this turtle?!' Corhyn's eyes widened at the sight.

The massive turtle, however, seemed utterly unfazed by their appearance.

"Konstantin the Tarnished," the deep voice rumbled with amusement. "You have returned so soon…"

"I need to finish my main quests as soon as possible," Kosta's projection replied with his usual deadpan tone.

Of course, Miriel(5) didn't quite understand him fully, but he grasped the general idea. The bishop-turtle had heard the rumors, and the wandering sorcerer, Thops, had only found his way to him thanks to this strange Tarnished.

Miriel had long wanted to meet him, and it was no small surprise that this time, it was the Tarnished's projection that had sought him out.

To ask for assistance in building a new order.

Perhaps even during the unforeseen union of Rennala and Radagon, things had not been this strange.

Would this Tarnished's arrival prove to be a blessing or a curse? He couldn't yet say.

At the very least, it wouldn't be boring.

There were so few entertainments left in the Lands Between, after all.

"Ho-ho, of course, Konstantin!" Miriel agreed without hesitation. "Is this the one you spoke of?"

"Yes."

"Excellent! Welcome to the Church of Vows. I am Miriel, steward of these sacred halls. My apologies for the current… state of affairs."

"I already promised I'd help with the repairs," Kosta stated flatly.

Miriel gave no visible reaction, more focused on the priest standing before him.

"Are you familiar with the history of this place? How it came to be the Church of Vows?"

Brother Corhyn hesitated, scratching his head as he looked around.

Just moments ago, the man he had wished to call his master had died. And now, here he was in another place, meeting yet another eccentric figure.

And he still didn't know what those copies of a simple commoner were supposed to be.

Though, truthfully… he wasn't sure if he cared all that much anymore.

"Of course, I know of the Church of Vows… This is where the Houses of the Erdtree and the Moon were united…"

"Splendid!" the turtle beamed. "There are so few left who still remember this place…"

After the Shattering, that is…

Hearing such a genuine compliment from the Pastor of Vows made the priest shift uncomfortably.

The projection of Konstantin nodded, satisfied with the exchange between the priest and the turtle bishop.

"I have to go."

"Of course, Konstantin the Tarnished," Miriel responded kindly. "You still have much to do. And remember… celestial dew…"

Kosta blinked.

That sounded suspiciously like an accusation of betrayal, made in advance—along with a preemptive offer to wipe the slate clean.

In a way, it was the purest form of truth.

With that, the illusion vanished, leaving Corhyn alone with Miriel.

Naturally, the priest had to voice the question that had crossed the mind of every Souls player who had ever encountered this massive, benevolent, and highly suspicious turtle who just so happened to deal in universal sin absolution:

"…if you don't mind me asking," Corhyn hesitated, forcing a smile. "Who put that hat on you…?"

It looked so strange.

"…"

Miriel remained silent for a long moment. Then, in the most gentle and reassuring tone, he simply said:

"…let us use celestial dew and forget this disagreement."

Corhyn blinked.

…He may have just stumbled upon something dangerous.

The Carian Study Hall. The stereotypical quiet girl's favorite library spot—the one Konstantin should have visited long ago.

Honestly, the moment the Tarnished stepped past the threshold of the library, he realized just how thoroughly it had been saturated with casualization. If the sorcerers had their own hub, it would undoubtedly be the Carian Study Hall.

Konstantin had no idea how much time and effort had been spent turning the library into this bizarre spatial trap, and even less understanding of why one of the best waifus wanted him to go through it just to finally reach her real body, but…

Well, why not?

Kosta was grateful to Ranni for patiently waiting and watching, allowing him to take care of all his other business first.

"Strange that she isn't nearby…" murmured Melina as she materialized. "I can't believe she wouldn't want to watch you brave this place in her name. Could it be that she…?"

Melina didn't want to be in this library, period. The nature of her existence allowed her to perceive, better than most, just how unstable the space inside was. And the statue the Tarnished had received from the demigoddess certainly wasn't going to make it more stable.

If anything, it would do the opposite.

"Ranni isn't nearby," Kosta confirmed. "She's probably run into some trouble."

She hadn't been around back when he was defiling the Golden Order with heresy either—something the ever-curious demigoddess would have absolutely wanted to hear.

At times, Kosta found himself wondering if fate actually did exist. But in his mind, fate was more like pre-scripted events, ones prepared by the world itself—or something like that.

Unfortunately for fate, he didn't give a damn about those scripts. He'd find out later how many phases fate had.

Melina blinked in surprise. She hadn't seen her Tarnished particularly concerned about the doll.

No matter how much the witch annoyed her, it was obvious that Konstantin sympathized with her, and the demigoddess wasn't opposed to that sympathy. Whether she wanted to or not, Melina had to accept it. She should have accepted it a long time ago.

Or… maybe not accept it, but at least not start unnecessary conflicts.

"I'll handle this," Kosta added after a brief pause. "In the meantime, free Blaidd and knock him out. Don't hand him over to Iji—take him straight to Stormveil Castle. I'll explain everything a bit later. Trust me."

Melina silently opened her mouth.

"Huh?"

Without explaining anything, Konstantin stepped toward her, grabbed her hand, and the false Finger Maiden suddenly felt herself being swept up by the currents of Grace, sent hurtling in an unknown direction.

She blinked in confusion, finding herself inside the spatial trap. It wasn't a problem for her—but it was for others.

Looking around, the bewildered girl spotted a massive half-wolf, whining as he clawed at… well, distorted space. And rather successfully, too.

"Wooooo…"

"Blaidd?"

The half-wolf let out a startled whimper, turning his head toward Melina. Trapped within the sorcery, Blaidd didn't recognize her—after all, he had never met the false Finger Maiden face to face.

"Who are you?"

Melina gazed at the pitiful half-wolf, slightly delayed in her reaction.

Her Tarnished must have been in a real hurry to ask her to handle this.

"I am Konstantin's chosen maiden," she said calmly, drawing her blade.

She was only going to scare him a little.

The last thing the wide-eyed half-wolf saw was a girl bathed in the golden radiance of the Erdtree.

Who ever said that being freed from madness would be painless?

(1) The Goldmask, much like the Primeval Sorcerer Azur, does not speak. Despite the ability to "converse" with him. However, according to Brother Corhyn, the Goldmask is more than talkative—he simply communicates using his finger. Only his finger.

(2) Over the course of Goldmask's quest, the player can learn the same incantation that Kosta already knows. This incantation must be used on a specific statue in Leyndell, revealing the terrible truth that Radagon is Marika. The player can then share this revelation with Corhyn and the (allegedly shocked, judging by his finger movements) Goldmask. Lore scholars still haven't reached a consensus on whether Radagon and Marika were always one entity or if they merged later.

(3) Goldmask can indeed grant the player this rune, leading to the Age of Order ending. It's unknown whether he created a pseudo-Great Rune himself or simply discovered one.

(4) During Goldmask's quest, Corhyn either drinks the Tonic of Forgetfulness and wanders off into the mist, forgetting everything, or he fully descends into madness and dies at the end of the quest.

(5) Miriel, Pastor of Vows, is a merchant NPC who teaches both sorcery and incantations. While in a normal playthrough, the player meets Miriel much earlier, Kosta's unconventional progression path meant that he was only now properly encountering the character.