Early the next morning, he mounted his beloved Torrent and set off toward the ruins.
After seeing his dear wife again the night before, his mood had become unusually bright.
That was—of course—assuming there were no bat harpies around.
Those creatures weren't particularly strong, but they traveled in flocks and had the irritating habit of mimicking human voices to lure unsuspecting travelers.
Don't ask him how he knew.
Let's just say he had fallen for that trick before.
Still, he had to admit something: when those human-faced bats sat quietly on the ground and sang, their voices were strangely beautiful.
Sad… but beautiful.
When he reached the ruins, Boc was nowhere to be seen.
It looked like the little fellow had finally gathered his courage and gone back to the Coastal Cave ahead of him.
But when he arrived at the cave along Limgrave's coastal edge…
Boc wasn't there either.
Instead, there was a puddle of blood at the entrance.
He crouched down and touched it with his finger, rubbing it lightly between his fingertips.
Still fresh.
"…Did that idiot run in there alone?"
Frowning, he stepped slowly into the cave.
The deeper he went, the more blood he saw on the ground. From somewhere further inside came a faint, trembling groan.
"…Ugh… ah… it hurts…"
After rounding a corner, he finally found Boc.
Beside a Site of Grace, Boc lay collapsed in a pool of blood, barely breathing. His body was covered in deep sword wounds, some of them nearly down to the bone.
"Tch… what a troublesome guy."
He said it with annoyance, but he was already hurrying over.
"…Y-you are…?"
"Ah… it's you… you finally came…"
Boc's voice trembled weakly.
"But hurry… run… it's dangerous here…"
"…Stop talking. Drink this."
He pulled a golden flask from his pack.
The Flask of Crimson Tears.
As long as someone still had even a thread of life left, the crimson liquid inside could pull them back from death's door.
Just like it did now.
With a single sip, Boc gasped sharply as strength returned to his body. The horrifying wounds across his chest and limbs began to close, flesh knitting together as if time itself had reversed.
Within moments, his injuries were gone.
Seeing that Boc was no longer dying, the Tarnished let out a quiet breath of relief.
The little guy might not be easy on the eyes… but the courage he'd shown was admirable.
It reminded him a little of himself, long ago.
He slowly lifted his head and stared into the darkness deeper within the cave.
Cold anger flickered in his eyes.
Rising to his feet, he drew two Rivers of Blood and began walking toward the depths.
Step by step.
"…Come back! It's dangerous in there… cough—don't go in! Run… or you'll end up like me…"
Boc's desperate warning went completely ignored.
The Tarnished walked straight into the darkness.
In the dim cave, his eyes glowed faintly red.
A man entrusted with a task must see it through.
That principle had never changed.
And according to Boc, the creatures inside were of the same race as him.
Yet they had attacked one of their own so viciously.
He gave a cold laugh.
Typical of the Lands Between.
He had once believed that endless cycles had numbed his heart—that killing had become something ordinary.
But today…
For the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of anger.
Perhaps it was because Boc reminded him of who he used to be.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
The metal soles of his boots struck the stone floor softly.
The demi-human scouts patrolling the cave seemed deaf, hearing nothing at all—
Until a crimson blade shot from the darkness and pierced straight through their bodies.
They didn't even have time to scream.
Their corpses dropped lifelessly before he kicked them down into the lower cavern.
The demi-humans below immediately noticed the falling bodies and began shrieking.
Within seconds, the entire cave erupted into noise as the demi-humans gathered and rushed toward him.
He glanced toward the lighted cavern ahead.
Roughly thirty of them.
Among them were two larger ones gripping daggers.
Those had to be the chiefs.
Convenient.
Having them all gather together saved him the trouble of hunting them down one by one.
He lowered the Rivers of Blood in his left hand and replaced it with a dragon communion incantation.
"Placidusax's Ruin."
BOOM.
The deafening explosion deep within the cave made Boc scramble to his feet in shock.
"W-what just happened?!"
He stared toward the darkness, sensing an overwhelmingly terrifying aura pouring toward him.
Every hair on his body stood on end.
It was far more frightening than when those Night's Cavalry had once passed near him.
What in the world was happening down there?
Even though fear gripped him, curiosity eventually won.
Step by cautious step, Boc crept deeper into the cave.
After only two steps—
Thunk.
He walked straight into something solid.
"Ow!"
Rubbing his nose, which felt like it had been flattened, Boc opened his eyes.
The thing he had bumped into was the Tarnished in black armor.
Blood still dripped from the blade in his hand.
But something puzzled Boc.
Why was the Tarnished holding out his hand?
"This… should be what you were looking for, right?"
The voice echoed calmly from beneath the dark helm.
Boc raised his trembling hands.
A needle and a small sewing kit dropped into his palms.
"My sewing needle!"
The moment he saw it, tears poured down his face.
"Waaah… thank you… thank you so much…"
He clutched the needle and tools tightly against his chest, as if they were the most precious treasures in the world.
"My mother… she was a seamstress… these are the only things she left me…"
"You've helped me so much… I don't even know how to repay you…"
His sobbing echoed through the quiet cave.
The Tarnished waved his hand dismissively.
"Forget repayment. Just think of it as me doing a good deed."
He turned and began walking toward the cave exit.
To be honest, he felt a little conflicted.
Normally, when someone completed a request, they should receive payment. It wasn't about greed—it was about respecting the one who made the request.
Allowing them to maintain their dignity.
But Boc…
Boc had nothing.
Nothing except that needle.
If Boc had been a girl, he might have joked about asking for her hand in marriage.
But Boc…
There was no way he could say that.
Gender aside, with that appearance, even joking felt impossible.
So he let it go.
"…Thank you… thank you so much…"
Under Boc's repeated thanks, he walked slowly out of the cave.
The blue sea stretched before him, calm and endless.
Yet the more he looked at it, the more conflicted he felt.
He vaguely remembered someone from his previous life saying that doing good deeds made people feel refreshed.
So why did he feel like he had just lost a hundred million runes?
"…Whatever."
He sighed.
"First I'll go talk with Sorceress Sellen. After that… I'll head to the Weeping Peninsula and see whether Castle Morne has fallen yet."
Unlock 100+ advance chapters on Patreon — every follow inspires me to keep going!
patreon.com/legacyverse1