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Chapter 174 - Chapter no.173 Dark Souls

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Chapter 173 The Dragon, The Giant and The Angel

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Caw.

Caw.

Caw.

Hundreds of crows began to drop from the sky, falling like dark rain through the thick fog. Their bodies struck the earth with sickening thuds. Feathers scattered in the air. Their broken wings twitched. Entrails spilled across the scorched ground, blood soaking into the stone.

Oscar took a step back.

The dead birds began to move.

Their bones shifted and cracked, pulled together by some unseen force. Entrails slithered like threads. The corpses merged, folding into a single shape. A tall woman formed from the remains, her hooded figure rising out of feathers, blood, and bone. Her presence made the air feel colder.

Oscar's breath caught in his throat.

Velka, the goddess of sin, stood before him. Her body was cloaked in shadows, but her form was unmistakable. She raised her hand, and from the massive crater nearby, a claw made entirely from crow bones emerged. It reached down into the basin and gently lifted Havel from the rubble.

Havel's body was broken. Though he had clearly won his battle with Naruto, he looked far from victorious. Pieces of his armor had shattered. His movements were slow. And deep within him, something was wrong.

Velka's voice was calm and cold. "So, you've come back to your senses."

"Aye," Havel replied with a tired smile. "And methinks much hath changed for thee."

"Yeah, well… after the plot against the gods, I had to deal with my church being destroyed, my title stripped, and every divine blade pointed at my back. So yes, things have changed."

"Nay," Havel said, tilting his head. "I speak not of thy downfall. I speak of thy tongue. 'Tis modern now, like the rabble."

Velka gave a short, amused snort. "What can I say? I had to adapt."

"Ha," Havel grinned. "Hast thou grown a heart then? Come to bid farewell to an old friend?"

Despite the humor, pain laced his words. Naruto's final attack had done more than scar his body. His soul had been struck. A curse had taken root... crystallized magic forming within his soul, like glass growing through his bones.

"I can freeze you in time," Velka said softly. "Buy you time to find a cure."

"Thou needn't bother," Havel replied. "I am content. This battle pleased me well. Let me pass as I lived: beneath sky and upon the dirt, and with purpose in mine heart."

They stood in silence, facing the basin's broken remains.

From the crater's heart, beneath shattered stones and drowned bones, something began to rise. A pale green glow pulsed in the darkness. The light grew brighter, flickering like breath.

A soul had survived.

Velka and Havel watched.

"He's not of this world," Velka murmured. Her shadow writhed beneath her robes like slow smoke. "I suspected as much."

"Oh?"

"The boy," Velka continued, her gaze never leaving the soul, "he was using my Ring of Sacrifice. Over and over. I felt it. Its loss. Its return. That shouldn't be possible. But now I see… he wasn't fully here. Not entirely."

She gestured to the glowing essence above the crater.

"Since the moment he arrived, he's been moving between Lordran and another realm. He doesn't belong to either but exists in both."

Havel chuckled low, the sound like stone grinding against stone. "An undead… everlasting dragon… from another world. By the gods, how fearsome is that?"

He closed his eyes.

"'Tis poetry," he said. "The gods feared three things: the dragons, the undead, and the unknown strength of man. And lo… before us stands a soul who is all three."

Velka nodded slowly. "A threat… or a salvation. That will depend on the path he chooses next."

"I think thou art mistaken," Havel said, his voice rough but steady.

Velka turned her hooded gaze toward him.

"The boy hath walked a path not his own," Havel continued, "one paved in thorns and fire, only to shield a friend. Salvation and destruction… I reckon he seeketh neither. Unless the world, or those within it, steer him thus."

Velka gave a quiet breath of a laugh. "Let's not start one of those old arguments, Havel. You'll lose, like always, especially in your final hour."

"Aye," Havel said with a faint grin. "Indeed."

He shifted slightly, the crystals growing on his arms now creeping over his chest. "Might I ask thee a boon, my old friend?"

"Of course. I owe you more than I can name," Velka said, her voice gentle now.

"Mark that crystal lizard with the Darksign."

Velka raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I would repay that knight," Havel said. "He didst unshackle me… and granted unto me the battle of a lifetime. Had our paths crossed in gentler days, I wouldst have known the boy behind the wyrm. Yet alas, the fates were not so kind. Thou knowest what I mean."

Velka's tone turned cold and practical. "Lordran, and whatever realm he's from, can't handle a hollowed everlasting dragon."

"Ever pragmatic, thou art," Havel murmured, a bittersweet smile upon his lips. "But mine intent is not born of dread. Nay, let it be writ that I owed him this. I would not see the lad tread the sorrowed path I once did… when I lost my beloved wife."

Crystals had begun to creep along his back and shoulders, pulsing with a faint, unearthly light.

"I beg thee… watch over mine daughter. Guard her well—my sweet Rhea."

A heavy silence passed between them.

Velka at last answered, "You have my word."

"One final entreaty," Havel said. "Use not that dragon to smite the gods."

Velka blinked. "Didn't you hate them?"

"Aye, I do," Havel replied. "Yet I would not drag others into mine quarrel. That boy… he was willing to forfeit all for the sake of his comrade. This battle is not his. Let not his flame be wielded as a blade by hands not his own."

Velka sighed, shoulders heavy beneath her robes. "You really are a simple brute. A true knight if I've ever seen one. But with Gwyndolin manipulating the undead to ignite the First Flame, with the serpents worshipping the dark, the witches of chaos moving with their own goals, and the old Lords clinging to their thrones… I don't think that dragon can stay uninvolved. Not unless he leaves Lordran behind completely. And from what I've seen, he's not the type to walk away."

"Then sorrow awaiteth him," Havel said softly.

"If it brings you peace," Velka said, "I'll make sure he's ready for what's coming."

Havel smiled again, a tired but fulfilled one. "I knew I could count on thee… my dearest friend."

The crystal overtook his chest, then his face. His fingers, once wrapped around the haft of many a weapon, finally relaxed.

"Farewell," he said.

And with that final word, Havel, Rock of the Church, the unbending wall of Lordran, was no more.

The crystals sealed him completely, and then, with a gust of wind, his form broke apart—turning into glittering dust that scattered across the scorched basin like stars returning to the sky.

The stone upon which he stood cracked, then shattered. But what remained was not ruin.

What remained was legacy.

A knight who defied gods.

A warrior who stood against dragons.

A friend who made peace at the end.

And a father, remembered not in moments, but in promise.

And as the dust rose to the heavens, Velka whispered a quiet prayer—not to any god, but to the man who stood his ground until the very end. "Rest well, old brute. Your war is over."

Velka gave herself a moment to mourn. Then, with a quiet breath, she raised her hand.

Oscar, who had been inching away; hoping to slip out unnoticed, froze mid-step, locked in time by her will. She pulled the time-bubble toward her, placing her hand on the lizard's stomach. Her fingers brushed over the strange material embedded within. Chakra and chakra metal, foreign to Lordran's rules. But there was no time to investigate further.

She raised her hand again.

Embers began to rise like fireflies, dancing in slow spirals around her fingers. They swirled above Oscar's body, forming a circle. The air turned thick, heavy with divine authority. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Velka pressed her palm against his soul.

The Darksign bloomed.

A ring of smoldering flame, surrounding a hollow black center, burned itself into Oscar's core. His body arched, and a silent scream twisted across his face before he finally passed out, overwhelmed by pain.

"Now that the brand is done," she murmured, "you're going to have to absorb all that soul and grow stronger… if you truly wish to walk beside that dragon."

With a flick of her wrist, she hurled Oscar into the floating soul-drop of Naruto. The crystal lizard vanished into the swirling light.

Velka turned.

"Now then… let's deal with our uninvited guests."

She looked toward the waterfall.

Sif stood there.

Sif was a being every god in Lordran respected, not only as the loyal companion of the legendary knight Artorias, but also for his strength especially after he and the flash from Konoha defeated the Abyss that had consumed Oolacile.

Even Velka knew better than to fight Sif and expect to walk away without suffering for a century.

Thankfully, she was only here as an avatar.

She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding as Sif turned and padded silently back into the forest.

Above them, the fog began to recede.

Alvina's barrier was lifting, the moonlight pouring down again.

But the moon… had changed. Its center now bore an eye.

Velka narrowed her gaze. "Dear Gwyndolin… still peeping where you shouldn't."

The words had barely left her lips when a spear of light lanced through her skull, shot clean through by the Moonlight God himself.

Velka's avatar reformed. Without wasting a moment, she turned and fled the basin.

Behind her, the attention of Seath and Gwyndolin surged, their focus now fully on hunting down the heretical god who had slipped through their grasp. It was exactly as Velka intended. She had drawn their eyes elsewhere, away from Naruto and Oscar.

As she vanished into the veil between realms, she made certain to erase every trace, every lingering thread of energy, every mark that could link Seath and Gwyndolin to Naruto.

No one would find him. Not yet.

Her whisper echoed faintly through the night sky: "Get ready, boy. Your life is only going to get harder from here. Knight. Dragon. Sorcerer. Cleric. Whatever you think you are… you are a struggler."

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The alleyway of the Lower Undead Burg was strewn with still bodies, twisted in death remnants of hollow assassins whose ambush had failed.

Vince stood among them, his spiked mace lowered, its head still faintly steaming from the kill. His dark armor bore fresh scrapes, but the man beneath remained unshaken grounded, still, like a fortress that had withstood a storm.

Nico stepped forward silently, his own shield raised as if expecting another attack. He didn't speak. He rarely did. His gaze swept the shadows, always searching, always cautious.

"Rhea," Vince said calmly. "We're done with these things."

But Rhea wasn't listening.

She stood apart from them, just beyond the nearest corpse, her eyes unfocused… staring somewhere far beyond the confines of the Burg. A single tear traced the curve of her cheek, glistening in the dim firelight.

"Is something wrong?"

Rhea blinked and shook her head quickly, brushing the tear away. "No… I just…" She hesitated, her lips parting, but the words didn't come.

Her hand moved unconsciously to her chest. She didn't know why… but it felt as though she had just lost someone important. Someone who mattered.

And for a moment, the world seemed quieter than it should've been.

As if mourning a knight whose duty had finally, finally ended.

"I'm sorry. It was nothing," she whispered. "Let us return to Firelink Shrine."

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[Mount Myōboku]

The sun lazily peeked over the horizon of Mount Myōboku, casting warm gold across the dew-laced leaves and still ponds. A gentle wind rustled the massive tree branches, sending faint ripples through the lakes where giant toads rested like statues of old gods. Somewhere between the quiet croaks and distant waterfalls, an all-too-familiar sound broke the calm.

"Heh… Her hips twisted like a whirlpool jutsu… yeah, that's the line! Classic."

Jiraiya grinned as he sprawled across the tiled roof of one of the higher shrines, pen in hand, brush swiping across parchment. His wild white hair glowed in the morning light, tied back loosely as always, though the wrinkles around his mouth betrayed years of laughter and battle alike.

That peace shattered instantly.

WHACK!

A bamboo cane struck the back of his head with the force of a righteous god.

"OW! Dammit, Pa!" Jiraiya clutched his skull, rolling off the roof and landing in an undignified heap. "There are other ways to catch my attention, y'know!"

Fukasaku stood firm, cane still raised, his white mohawk bristling with irritation. "Ain't got time for your usual foolishness, ya pervy hermit! The Great Toad Sage's summoned ya. Right now."

"Now?" Jiraiya dusted himself off, blinking. "You couldn't let me finish the climax first?"

"The only climax you need to worry about is the end of the world if you keep slackin' off," Fukasaku shot back, already turning. "C'mon!"

The joking air around Jiraiya thinned. His smile faded. When the Great Toad Sage called, he listened.

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[The Great Hall of Mount Myōboku]

They arrived in a quiet rush, flickering past lily-covered ponds and moss-laden trees, until at last they stood beneath the towering arc of the ancient chamber. Within sat the Great Toad Sage, Gamamaru; a mountain of wisdom and wrinkles, breathing slow and deep, like the wind itself. He squinted down at them with his usual vague smile, looking somewhere between amused and profoundly lost.

"Jiraiya-boy," he said slowly. "Mmm… you're still alive."

"Tch. Barely, with Pa smacking me awake like that."

Fukasaku cleared his throat. "Don't be disrespectful! This is a sacred summon."

"Sacred? This sacred detour's cost me... weeks, Pa!" Jiraiya snapped, his irritation finally surfacing. "Old man Hiruzen sent me to check on Minato's kid, make sure the seal's holdin'. For all I know, Konoha's gone to hell while I've been stuck waitin' on frog tea and bugs!"

Gamamaru let out a low, amused chuckle. "Rrrrmmm… impatience is unbecoming of a sage, Jiraiya-boy. But you were always the squirmy one, weren't you?"

"Great Sage," Jiraiya stepped forward, suppressing his temper. "Please. Just tell me the prophecy. If you saw something, I need to know."

Gamamaru blinked once. Then again. A long pause followed. "…What prophecy?"

Jiraiya and Fukasaku both deflated at once.

"He's forgotten again," Fukasaku sighed, dragging a hand down his green face.

"Of course he has," Jiraiya muttered.

Gamamaru gave a slow blink, like waking from a long nap. "Ah… yes… I remember now."

His smile faded slightly.

"In time, you will have a student of your own. That student will become a ninja that will bring great change to the world of shinobi. A change of either great stability… or great destruction. The kind the world has never seen."

Jiraiya's jaw clenched. "You said I'd be the one to guide that revolutionary. And that someday, I'd be forced to make a choice… a choice that would decide what kind of world we'd leave behind."

Gamamaru nodded slowly. "I looked at the threads of the future, and at the time… that was the most radiant one. It shone so brightly, I feared looking too close might blind me. But remember, Jiraiya, it is just one possibility in the river of time."

Fukasaku remained silent beside them, a hand on his cane, his face unusually grave.

Jiraiya looked down.

"I sacrificed a lot chasing that future," he said quietly. "More than I care to admit. I let people I loved slip away. All for that prophecy. If it could lead to peace… it was worth it."

A pause.

Then the Great Toad Sage sighed. "Well… I'm sorry to say this, Jiraiya-boy… but that thread now? It's dimming. Fading. The vision is growing hazier by the day. As if the world is shifting faster than even time can track."

Jiraiya's face didn't change, but Fukasaku could see it in his eyes. The way the light dimmed just a little more. "…I see."

"That's all, then?" he added, already turning.

But the old sage's voice stopped him. "No, Jiraiya-boy. There was another reason I asked Fukasaku to keep you here."

"More?"

Fukasaku stepped forward. "You mean... that wasn't just an excuse to keep him from rushing off?"

"Mmm…" Gamamaru murmured, his eyes narrowing. "As of late, I have been seeing… visions. But not just the kind we sages see when we slumber deep."

He leaned forward just a little, his voice growing fainter with effort.

"These visions… they're not mine."

Jiraiya's eyes widened.

"What do you mean they're not yours?"

"I am… receiving them," the Great Toad Sage said. "From another."

Even Fukasaku looked caught off guard now.

"Wait, what? Another sage? Are you saying someone's sending you prophetic visions from the future?"

Gamamaru gave a low, wheezing breath.

"Indeed… someone not older than I… but far greater in Senjutsu. In spiritual clarity. In sheer force of will. The energy is ancient, but not buried. Alive. Guiding. Not of this world, yet tied to it."

Fukasaku stared.

"You don't mean… the Sage of Six Paths?"

A long pause.

"…Maybe," Gamamaru said, his voice quiet, uncertain.

Jiraiya swallowed. "What did this future sage show you?"

The Great Toad Sage's body trembled slightly. His breath grew ragged. "I see… Konoha."

Jiraiya froze.

"In flames."

Fukasaku's hand clenched his cane tighter.

"A dragon… standing upon those flames," Gamamaru continued. "His wings stretch over your village, and in his three eyes... I see a pain deep enough to flood the earth."

He coughed, breath rattling.

"Elder, please... rest. That's enough," Fukasaku said, stepping forward in alarm.

Jiraiya stared ahead, eyes wide. "A dragon… attacking Konoha?"

No. Not a possibility. Not a vague warning like before. This wasn't a maybe. This was a warning from the future. The old sage exhaled deeply.

"One last thing, Jiraiya-boy… before I sleep again…"

His eyes, still squinting, now focused with unusual clarity.

"I hear words coming toward me. They echo from the threads of time, like a warning sent on the wind. Not a prophecy. Not a promise. But something to remember."

Jiraiya leaned closer, his voice low and solemn.

"I'm listening."

The old sage's voice dropped to a whisper.

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[The Shikkotsu Forest]

The forest breathed.

Mist clung to every leaf and bough like mourning cloth, wrapping the vast trees in a hushed stillness. Mushrooms the size of rooftops pulsed softly with bioluminescent glow. It was a forest built on silence and time. The air reeked faintly of salt, sap, and something… unidentifiable.

Tsunade hated it.

She stood at the base of a pulsating white mound, arms crossed, scowl deeper than the grooves of the barkless trees above.

"Katsuyu!" she shouted into the stillness. "I swear, if this isn't life or death, I'm leaving. I could be drunk right now. Or broke. Or both."

A gentle squelch preceded the arrival of Katsuyu's avatar, her smaller form rising up beside Tsunade like a respectful ripple of the forest itself.

"Lady Tsunade," she said in that eternally calm voice, "the Elder has requested your presence at the Hall."

"Hall," Tsunade muttered. "Right. Slugs have halls now. Great. I should've stayed at the inn. Maybe I'd have hit a jackpot for once… or at least passed out without waking up in a swamp."

"This matter transcends fortune, my lady."

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "What doesn't?" she grumbled, but followed.

The Sage Hall was unlike any other structure on Earth if it could even be called a structure. It was not built, but grown.

A massive hollow formed from a coiled ring of slug flesh, glistening with sacred oils. Veins the size of tree trunks pulsed across its domed ceiling. Light filtered in from above through thin, translucent membranes that shimmered softly with chakra. The air was humid, heavy, and slow, like even the wind feared to disturb what slumbered here. And at the center lay the Original.

The First Katsuyu.

Enormous. Pale beyond white. Her skin was translucent in some places, revealing the slow ripple of fluids and the glimmer of internal energy. Dozens of thick, ribbon-like tentacles unfurled around her in meditation. Her eyes were closed. Her breath, if it came at all, was so slow it was measured in decades.

"Alright. I'm here. Now what? Missed weeks of good gambling for this."

A smaller Katsuyu slithered forward.

"Please, Lady Tsunade… place your hand upon the Elder's optic tentacle. She will share something with you. Something only you can receive."

"I already see nightmares every time I close my eyes. You want me to go poking around in another one?"

Still, she sighed and pressed her palm to the cool, glowing tissue. The chakra link took hold instantly.

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Tsunade stood in darkness then, the world split open.

Flashes. Flickers. Visions not her own.

She saw fire. Cities ablaze. Shinobi falling like broken dolls.

Monsters descended from the sky on wings of smoke and shadow. Wyverns screamed across the skies, tearing through clouds and towers alike. Hulking demons, red-eyed and horned, surged through the gates of the Hidden Stone like a tidal wave of hate. One swung its blade, and the Raikage's tower split in half.

Tsunade watched in horror as she reached out, but the vision was already fading.

The light blinked out. The fire went silent. And Tsunade stood once more in stillness, breath heavy, heart racing. The vision came just as suddenly as it vanished, leaving behind only the weight of dread.

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[Shikkotsu Forest – Sage Hall]

Tsunade was back.

Sweating. Trembling. Knees locked. Still gripping the optic tentacle. "What… what the hell was that?"

"That was a vision. Not from our Sage."

Tsunade turned sharply. "Then from who?"

It sounded neither man nor woman, neither old nor young. The voice of the slug sage. "This is a vision sent from the future..."

Tsunade staggered back, clutching her chest, as the world around her blurred with echoing words: "Hear now, Tsunade Senju. For what you have seen is not a dream. It is a warning."

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[Ryūchi Cave]

The cave breathed.

Not like a place filled with air, but like a living thing. The walls pulsed faintly with warmth, the scales of massive serpents sliding across ancient stone echoing like whispers. Light was scarce, filtered through thick smoke and luminous fungi that clung to ceilings like barnacles. It smelled of musk, venom, and ancient power.

Orochimaru walked with a smile.

A dangerous one. He moved with the grace of someone who knew this place well... well enough to fear it, and well enough to know that fear could be turned into power.

"The sage will see you now," hissed one of the guards.

Orochimaru didn't nod.

The Chamber of the White Snake Sage was carved into the belly of the mountain; massive, coiled, and alive.

The White Snake Sage sat on her throne of herself, her body spiraled in perfect stillness, thick coils melding into the cavern floor like stone made flesh. Her eyes were slits of knowing. Her turban framed a red jewel that pulsed in rhythm with something older than time. Smoke curled from her long kiseru, its scent sweet and toxic.

"Orochimaru," she said, her voice slow, indulgent, a purr wrapped in poison. "Still possessing others like a worm in borrowed skin. How nostalgic."

"Ah, you wound me, Great Sage. I am merely rehearsing for eternity."

The Sage's nostrils flared faintly. "Eternity... such a juvenile fixation."

Smoke drifted between them.

"Then I presume this call isn't about old insults," Orochimaru said. "Why have I been summoned?"

The White Snake Sage inhaled deeply, then exhaled a ribbon of smoke that twisted into the shape of a dragon coiling through the air.

"Tell me," she asked, almost idly, "do you still remember the truth of what we snakes long for?"

"Ascension," Orochimaru answered. "To shed the skin of mortality. To rise beyond predator and prey. The snake becomes the dragon."

"A beautiful lie we tell ourselves," the Sage said, a faint chuckle curling in her throat. "But yes, the ambition is true. Every fang, every scale, every coil… twisted toward that one evolution."

She leaned forward slightly, and the whole chamber groaned under the weight of her presence.

"And yet… in all the years of our kind, not one has truly succeeded. Not truly. Pseudo-dragons. Mutations. Half-gods."

Orochimaru's eyes sharpened. "But something changed."

The White Snake Sage smiled.

"I have been receiving visions," the Sage said. "Glimpses not of what may come… but of what will. Sent by one from beyond the veil... beyond even my vision. Someone who walks through time like a skin to be shed."

Her words slowed as if spoken across centuries.

"They whisper of a Dragon God… one not born of this world, yet bound to it. And Ryūchi Cave will kneel before him, or vanish beneath his gaze."

The Sage's eyes flared.

"Orochimaru..." she continued, reverence and fear curling in her tone. "You will find him. You will serve him. And you will bring him here."

Orochimaru's smirk widened. "And what do I get in return?"

"I give you dominion over Ryūchi Cave. You will be the voice of my will. Manda shall obey your command, and my personal library—the hidden tomes of first flesh and perfected Senjutsu—shall be opened to you."

The air trembled with the weight of her gift.

Orochimaru was silent for a beat.

"A generous offer." He smiled, soft and slow. "And if I fail?"

The Sage did not blink. Her body quaked, and green Senjutsu chakra bloomed from her scales, bathing the chamber in a crushing pressure. Orochimaru's robes fluttered, but his eyes gleamed with delighted madness.

"Should you fail..." the Sage hissed, "Ryūchi Cave will name you a traitor. Every fang, every scale, every whisper in the dark will turn against you. You will be hunted, and swallowed whole."

Orochimaru bowed ever so slightly, more mockery than respect. "You have my cooperation. Your library alone is worth the task."

Despite the surge of killing intent flooding the chamber, chakra so ancient and venomous it could unravel the marrow of weaker men, Orochimaru merely smiled.

Don't worry, he thought, gaze cool and half-lidded beneath the shadow of the Sage's coiling form. Grant me access to your archives, your forbidden scrolls and decaying truths. That's all I need. With your library, I will refine my understanding of Senjutsu to a level you never conceived. And by the time I'm done... I'll have slithered past you, old snake. Quietly. Irrevocably.

The Sage's words, threats, promises—it was all noise beneath the growing tide of his curiosity. He was already tracing the pathways in his mind, mapping new experiments, projecting contingencies. The Ryūchi Cave would serve him, not the other way around.

As it always should have.

And this... Dragon God?

If it exists... if it is truly born in this era... Orochimaru's smile widened, a whisper of hunger behind his lips. Then perhaps I've found something even greater than the Uchiha. A vessel worth more than the blood of Sharingan. A body of god. My final step.

But then the Sage's voice slithered back in. "Answer me, Orochimaru."

He blinked once, returned to the present.

"I understand," he said aloud. "And I am willing to do what I can. But I'll admit, I haven't the faintest idea where to begin. Perhaps your visions can offer more clarity. Or not. Either is acceptable."

The Sage stared long and deep. Then finally, she answered.

"Perhaps these words will guide thee better than I."

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In Ryūchi Cave, Orochimaru listened.

In Shikkotsu Forest, Tsunade listened.

On Mount Myōboku, Jiraiya listened.

And from the mouths of three great sages, the same words fell:

When the Darksign burns three times,

And the thrones of the old lie empty and cold,

They shall rise.

The First shall wear the face of a Dragon.

Born from chaos, raised in calamity.

They will know too much, feel too deeply,

And be called monster by those who fear the truth.

Do not lie to the Dragon.

For it sees through all things.

The Second shall wear the chains of the Giants.

Silent, crowned in rust and old echoes.

They will walk the paths of the dead,

And the earth will remember every step.

Do not fight the Giant.

For it has already endured more than war.

The Third shall fall on hollow wings,

An Angel whose tears burn instead of fall.

Where they go, sorrow will burn cities,

And love will leave only ash.

Do not fear the Angel.

For their grief is older than gods.

Three shall rise.

Not born, but forged.

Not chosen, but burdened.

They will pass through fire, through shadow, through loss.

And they will not turn back.

And in their wake, two worlds shall tremble.

One will try to forget.

The other will relive it again and again.

Three times shall the veil between them shake.

And all that was left behind

Shall walk forward once more.

And at the end of all things, when the stars grow quiet—

You, Dragon.

You, Giant.

You, Angel.

Will you not meet again at the ramen stand at the end of the universe?

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Author's Note:

1. Velka, Goddess of Sin

Some of you are wondering: was Velka part of a plot against the gods? Isn't she the bad guy, especially since her crows supposedly forced Anastacia to cut out her tongue?

A) Was Velka part of the Plot Against the Gods?

There is an area in Dark Souls 1, the Painted World of Ariamis, which holds several items related to Velka and is generally associated with the rogue goddess. One such item is the Dark Ember:

The church long hid the forbidden black ember, and no living blacksmith knows of it. Occult weapons were used to hunt the gods, and are effective against their following and kin.

There is a mention of an occult rebellion in the Effigy Shield description:

Frightful occult shield. Defends against divine weapons and lightning. In an ill-fated plot to destroy the very gods, the followers of the occult once attempted to steal the power of Gravelord Nito, the first of the dead.

Velka's Rapier scales with Intelligence and also inflicts occult damage. This implies that Velka played a significant role in the rebellion against the gods, since her followers are equipped with such weapons.

According to the Karmic Justice miracle:

For each sin there is a punishment, and it is the task of Goddess Velka to define the sin and mete out the punishment.

It is possible that Velka was present at the beginning of the Age of Fire and witnessed the defeat of the Everlasting Dragons, finding the gods guilty of interfering with them. Alternatively, it may also be possible that she thought Gwyn's linking of the flame, thus extending the Age of Fire, to be a sin.

After the occult rebellion failed, she seemed to have had a new plan. The statue found in the Painted World can also be found only in New Londo. While it is true that Gwyn granted the Four Kings of New Londo a fragment of his Lord Soul, strangely, there seem to be no statues or other signs of worship of Gwyn—only the statue many associate with Velka. This might imply that Velka had a hand in the Four Kings betraying Gwyn.

Furthermore, the Red Soapstone, associated with the Darkwraiths of New Londo, is found in the Painted World, which might also tie Velka to New Londo and possibly the Darkwraiths:

Certain Darkwraiths resist their descent into dark and preserve along the honorable path. The Red Soapstone is for them.

Velka's influence can also be found in the Catacombs, and the rebellion is mentioned in the Effigy Shield description found in the Tomb of the Giants. Interestingly, the Effigy Shield and the Darkmoon Seance Ring may connect Pinwheel to this occult rebellion theory.

If indeed Pinwheel was part of the occult rebellion, it would make sense for Paladin Leeroy to help in the fight but also prevent anyone from entering Nito's domain and attempting to steal Nito's power.

The secret Rite of Kindling allows bonfires to be bolstered further so that even more Estus can be collected:

Kindling was a sacred rite passed down among clerics, but all Undead can imitate the process in the same manner that they restore their Hollowing with humanity. How peculiar that humans had found little use for humanity until they turned Undead.

The motive behind stealing Nito's power is not clear, but one may argue that Velka wanted to destroy the power that allowed for the further offering of humanity to the flames—meaning the Lords would have no means of prolonging the Age of Fire by commanding their followers to offer more humanity to the bonfires.

In a hidden room in the Catacombs, a coffin is found containing a corpse holding the Darkmoon Seance Ring:

This ring is granted to adherents of Gwyndolin, Darkmoon deity and last born of Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight.

It allows the wearer, presumably a member of the Blade of the Darkmoon covenant, to invade the world of a sinner to seek justice. A strange location for such a ring, so far away from Gwyndolin's influence.

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B) Isn't she the bad guy, especially since her crows supposedly forced Anastacia to cut out her tongue?

As it's known from the Effigy Shield description, the occult rebellion that Velka seems to have played a big part in has failed:

In an ill-fated plot to destroy the very gods, the followers of the occult once attempted to steal the power of Gravelord Nito, the first of the dead.

It is possible that after her plots were discovered, Velka was banished or fled to the Painted World of Ariamis. Gwyndolin (perhaps secretly) took over the covenant, after which Velka started the legend of the Chosen Undead to bring worthy undead warriors from the Asylum into Lordran and have them mercilessly attack and destroy the gods she had long warred with.

In Japanese mythology, crows are seen as servants of the gods and are often sent out for divine intervention in the world of mortals. In this vein, it can be speculated that the giant crow that transports the Chosen Undead to Lordran is a servant of some god. Given Velka's obvious connection to crows, it is safe to say that if that were the case, then the giant crow serves—or is—her.

Gwyndolin, to counter the legend, attempts to manipulate the Chosen Undead into his own cause: that of linking the First Flame. To support this, consider the following:

Gwyndolin, leader of the Darkmoon Covenant, rewards the player for killing the half-human, half-crow hybrids associated with the worship of Velka, found in the Painted World of Ariamis. These crows drop Souvenirs of Reprisal:

The knights called the Blades of the Darkmoon punish the guilt-soaked offenders of the Gods and take this as proof of their conquest. The earless corpses of the guilty will be left behind as a warning to others, inspiring both fear and respect for the Gods. Such is the eternal mandate of the Dark Sun.

The punishing of the "guilt-soaked offenders of the Gods" is the mandate of Gwyndolin, not Velka. Gwyndolin seems to be using the Darkmoon Blade covenant to manipulate the Chosen Undead to kill Velka's followers and hunt those who oppose the gods:

O Disciple of the Dark Sun. Thou hast journeyed far; hear my voice.

If thou shalt swear by the Covenant, to become a shadow of Father Gwyn and Sister Gwynevere,

A blade that shall hunt the foes of our Lords,

Then I shalt protect thee, safeguarding thy person with the power of the Darkmoon.

Very well. Now thou art a Blade of the Darkmoon. Hunteth the enemies of the Lords, by the power of the Dark Sun.

Gwyndolin's Darkmoon Talisman allows its user to cast sorceries using Faith instead of Intelligence, while Velka's Talisman enables the user to cast miracles using Intelligence instead of Faith. They are the exact opposite of each other, further demonstrating a significant difference between how the two leaders operate:

[Velka's Talisman] casts miracles not by drawing upon faith, but intelligence.

[Darkmoon Talisman] demands dutiful faith from its owner, but has very high miracle adjustment.

This is further supported by the differing purposes of the Blue Eye Orb and Black Eye Orb:

These mystical Blue Eye orbs are granted to Blades of the Darkmoon, knights who serve the Dark Sun Gwyndolin, so that they may serve the Gods in meting out vengeance.

Mystical Black Eye orb found on a Keeper's corpse. Invade the world of the murderer of a Fire Keeper, to defeat the perpetrator and reclaim the soul of the Fire Keeper. The Black Eye keeps constant watch on the city of the Gods, Anor Londo.

The description of the Vow of Silence, a miracle of Velka, may have been used as a precaution against Gwyndolin, a known magic caster, while other gods are primarily miracle users:

Secret rite of black-haired witch Velka. Prevents casting of magic within effect area.

After killing Gwyndolin, Oswald, a pardoner of Velka, has unique dialogue that seems to congratulate the player for killing the leader of the Darkmoon Blades:

Good tidings, thou art welcome. Laudable is thy dedication to sin.

Cut content reveals that there may have been a covenant devoted to Velka, tasked with hunting down the Blades of the Darkmoon, implying that Velka and Dark Sun Gwyndolin were in fact enemies.

So TLDR: The crow that forced Anastacia to cut off her tongue belongs to Gwyndolin. But that doesn't mean Velka is good. She is just neutral.

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2. Is Rhea Havel's Daughter?

Answer: Canonically, we don't know. Seriously. I'm pretty sure a lot of you already understand that much of Dark Souls lore is vague and left open to interpretation.

For example, how many of you thought Havel's daughter was Priscilla? And I mean many of you presented some solid theories and interesting evidence. Sorry to burst your bubble, but no... Priscilla is not Havel's daughter.

That said, let me present my case for why I think Rhea is Havel's daughter. Just like some of the other theories I've added to this fanfic like Rosaria being Gwyn's wife (still proud of that one).

Let's get into it.

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Evidence 1: Rhea is the only character who sells Havel's miracle.

Where did she get it?

Miracle Description: Miracle of Bishop Havel the Rock. Cover body in defensive magic coating. This coating greatly boosts magic defense, assisting warriors who must face the magic which Bishop Havel countered so proficiently.

This miracle is specifically tied to Havel and was meant for his warriors. So how does Rhea, of all people, have it?

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Evidence 2: Rhea comes from a royal family in Thorolund.

You know who else is connected to the royalty of Thorolund?

Item: White Seance Ring

Description: A divine ring entrusted to the head bishop of the Way of White and apostle to Allfather Lloyd, uncle to Lord Gwyn. It grants additional attunement slots. The head bishop of the Way of White is the guardian of law and caste, and one of the great royals of Thorolund.

This tells us that bishops of the Way of White are royalty in Thorolund. And Havel was also a bishop. So, yes, it's not a stretch to make a connection here.

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Evidence 3: Rhea goes hollow in the Duke's Archives—near the corpse of Havel's wife.

If you complete Rhea's questline, she goes hollow in the Duke's Archives. The interesting part? Her hollowed body is found near the corpse that this fanfic has established as Havel's wife. That's not a random placement. That's deliberate.

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Evidence 4: Why did Havel leave his armor and Dragon Tooth in Anor Londo?

As I explained in a previous chapter, Havel stored away his gear in case the plot against the gods failed so he could sneak back into Anor Londo and resume his role as bishop if needed.

But why go to all that trouble? Unless you consider Rhea. Havel wanted to protect her. As a bishop and royal of Thorolund, he needed a backup plan in case everything went south. It adds up.

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How did Rhea survive after Havel's capture?

The Way of White, Seath, or the gods themselves could have killed her. So why didn't they?

Simple: Velka.

Velka is known to judge sins and influence memory and perception. If anyone could manipulate reality or the minds of others to hide Rhea, it would be her. It's not hard to imagine Velka stepping in to keep Rhea hidden once Havel's plan failed.

I'm not claiming this is canon. But like most things in Dark Souls, the evidence is there if you know where to look. And I hope this breakdown shows you why I chose to make Rhea Havel's daughter in this fanfic.

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3. The Mysterious Sage

Ah, so we finally know what Jiraiya has been up to, and we now have a new prophecy... or rather, visions of the future sent by a mysterious sage.

So who is this sage?

Here's your hint: He's the one who left the Darksign for Naruto to find. Yeah. Think on that.

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4. Oscar

Remember why Naruto always used the Ring of Sacrifice? Because when hollows absorb a soul drop, they get stronger. The average hollow picked up a 1k soul drop.

Oscar? He absorbed a 10k soul drop. And now Velka has marked him with the Darksign, meaning Oscar can't die. So how strong is Oscar going to get? And what are you expecting next from the little guy?

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5. Havel the Rock

Despite the relatively short runtime for his arc, I hope I was able to make Havel into a character with depth, nuance, worldbuilding relevance, and strong combat presence.

So, why did I kill him off?

The first reason is that Havel, as a character in the Dark Souls lore, is all about legacy. Even if you don't dive deep into the lore, Havel's presence is felt across Dark Souls 1, 2, and 3. His warriors, armor, and miracles live on. They're essentially carrying out Havel's will and preserving his legend. So giving that legacy to Naruto, letting Havel die while entrusting Naruto with the path of the Everlasting Dragon, felt thematically right and respectful to his character.

The second reason? Let's be real: Havel breaks the story.

Let's look at a hypothetical. Say Havel lives. He could immediately tell Naruto about Ash Lake and send him to train with the Everlasting Dragon. He could give Naruto a summoning sign, allowing Naruto to summon him against Orochimaru, Gaara, Itachi, and even the Akatsuki. Havel is thousands of years more experienced than anyone in Naruto. He'd steamroll through most challenges.

He could also just explain everything to Naruto; Gwyndolin, the lies of the gods, the true nature of fire and dark, boom. Story solved in ten chapters.

And I know you guys don't want the story to end that quickly.

So, yeah. Havel needed to die.

RIP.

Let me know what you thought of Havel's character and his arc. Did it land for you? Did his legacy feel earned? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

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6. The Dragon, the Giant, and the Angel

I debated whether or not to include this prophecy in the chapter. A lot had already happened, and I didn't want to overload things further but here it is.

Remember the line at the end of Naruto's dragon transformation? The first of three.

That was the beginning of this prophecy.

It refers to three key individuals who will shape the narrative going forward.

Naruto is the Dragon.

Now, what about the Giant and the Angel? Simple, I'm not revealing that yet. You'll have to read and find out. Hehehe.

But I'm curious… who do you think the Giant and the Angel are? Or who do you want the giant and angel to be? Any and all theories are welcome. I'd love to hear your ideas!

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That's it for now!

As always, I appreciate you all taking the time to read, comment, and just come along for the ride.

—Adam

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[ Personal Note: First off, thanks a ton to all of you for sticking with this story. Seriously, you guys are awesome. Now, if you're interested in supporting me on P@treon, let me just say that over there, I post these massive 5k-word chapters. But heads up, if you're jumping to P@treon, you'll need to start from Chapter 84, since that's where this chapter lines up with the content there.

To everyone here just reading along, please don't forget to leave a comment! Honestly, your comments make my day, and they let me know you're as invested in this story as I am. So yeah, thanks again, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day!

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