In a world where the sun is dying, the ashes are cooling and the undead are rising, there is a man who needs no rules. Who wields no shield. And whose sharpest blade is his two bare fists, with which he paves the way for justice – or at least what he believes to be justice. He was once called the Fist of Lothric, but his once infamous past has long since been blown away by the winds of oblivion.
But legends do not die easily. As he rises from the cold embrace of his grave, El Kloppo immediately realises that he is missing something crucial: Caestus – his beloved boxing gloves. Someone had dared to steal his trade mark. A mistake that would cost him dearly.
With every step he takes through the ruined land, pieces of bone and undead bodies fly through the air like scarecrows in a storm. El Kloppo mercilessly slaughters his way – leaving nothing but chaos and dodgy braces in the rear-view mirror. He has no time for questions, only fists. Every enemy he encounters is blown to bits in his very own way – a taste of the Kloppo uppercut that makes even the toughest skulls crack like ripe melons.
But the question remains: Will he get his Caestus back? Will the streets of Lothric once again be filled with the blaring sound of smashed bells and crushed skulls? Or will this be the last round for the Fist of Lothric?
Saddle up your fists and hold on to your teeth, because one thing is for sure: where El Kloppo goes, nothing remains unscathed – neither bone nor pride. Let’s find out!
