Cathedral of the Deep… a place steeped in fanaticism and the ever-present stench of decay. Every soul that dared block my path has found their rightful place in the land of the dead. The Deacons of the Deep – lost souls huddled around a light long since extinguished. Their end was inevitable, just another step on my journey. They failed to grasp that death is no punishment, but a release. They should have been grateful.
The path to Rosaria now stands open, but my thoughts drifted back to the Catacombs of Carthus, to Nito and his ancient wisdom. Death… it is no barrier, but a tool, an art to be perfected. The souls I gathered and the Arcane Crystals I unearthed in the shadow of the cathedral brought me once again to Nito’s sacrificial bowl. Here, I offered them up, not out of greed, but with the reverence of a student standing before his master.
Nito presented me with a spear, forged in darkness, and I accepted. A weapon to cleave souls faster than a whisper on the wind. It’s not power that I seek – it’s the mastery of the craft. Death is a quiet melody, and I find joy in conducting its rhythm. With each strike of the spear, I bring order to this chaotic world, the inevitable decay that must come to all things. There is no rush, no urgency. Everything ends in death, and I… I am the silent observer, merely quickening the pace.
Follow Fellown on the dark path: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQRPy70pDgKWs5LRi6jJLBplA5QAZO2Ij
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