The Smoldering Lake was a world unto itself, a cauldron of fire and ash where the earth trembled with each echoing roar of unseen beasts. The air was thick with sulfur, the ground scorched black, and rivers of molten lava etched jagged scars across the broken landscape. To walk here was to court death at every step, but I had long since abandoned fear.
My descent into the lake was met with immediate hostility. Gigantic ballista bolts rained down from the heavens, their impact shattering the ground and sending plumes of embers into the choking air. Navigating the open terrain required more than caution—it demanded cunning. I darted between cover, each step calculated, until I reached the safety of an ancient ruin jutting out of the lake’s fiery embrace.
Inside, the halls were silent, save for the distant groans of the earth itself. This place had once been alive, I could feel it in the walls—now it was a graveyard for ambitions burned away by time and hubris. Creatures of flame and fury stirred in the darkness: embered crabs, chaotic pyromancers, and twisted remnants of demonkind. They fought with reckless abandon, but my shadows and curses were greater still. Mind Corruption turned their chaos against them, and my Hexsword silenced their final screams.
At the lake’s heart, a great chamber yawned wide, its walls blackened and cracked with the scars of unending heat. There, perched upon a throne of molten stone, was the Old Demon King. His form was monumental, his charred flesh glowing faintly like the dying embers of a once-mighty flame. His head lifted as I approached, empty sockets staring with an ancient fury that seemed to sear into my very soul.
The battle began with an eruption of fire. His hammer swung with the weight of a collapsing mountain, the impact sending waves of molten rock cascading across the chamber. I danced between his strikes, my robes singed but intact, countering with bursts of Dreg Swarm and carefully timed flurries of my blade.
The Old Demon King was not merely a relic of power—he was its embodiment. His roars summoned pillars of fire that erupted from the ground, forcing me to weave through a maze of flame. When his rage reached its peak, meteors fell from the sky, their fiery trails burning lines into the air as they sought to crush me.
But I had learned to play the long game. His fury was vast, but it burned bright and fast. As the flames consumed him, I found openings to strike. Each curse, each cut of my dark sorcery, drained him further until his once-mighty form began to falter. In his final moments, he raised his hammer high, summoning the last vestiges of his strength for a desperate strike. But my shadows were faster. With a final blast of dark magic, the Old Demon King collapsed, his hammer shattering as his form crumbled into ash.
The chamber fell silent, save for the faint crackling of lingering flames. I stood over his remains, the heat of his essence dissipating into the cold emptiness of defeat. The Smoldering Lake had lost its king, and its fires grew dimmer for it.
As I left the chamber, the world outside seemed quieter, more subdued. The ballista had fallen silent, the creatures retreating into the ashes. The Smoldering Lake was still dangerous, but its heart had been extinguished.
I ascended the charred paths leading back to the surface, my steps leaving faint prints in the layers of soot. Behind me, the smoldering ruins whispered their final dirge. Another foe had fallen, another chapter closed. Yet, for all the victories, the weight of the ashes clung to me like a shroud.
The flame burns, and then it dies. Such is the fate of all who wield it.
Come to the dark side: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQRPy70pDgKWZPzdPFo3NP6Zbh7EI__pb
#DarkSouls3 #SmoulderingLake #Convergence #RavennaNoir
