The old man kept forgetting.
Sometimes halfway through a sentence. Sometimes halfway through a thought. He would ask me the same question twice, then apologize with an embarrassed chuckle before asking it a third time an hour later. Somewhere along the way, I stopped correcting him. It felt cruel to remind someone of something they were only going to lose again.
A day slipped by like that.
We spoke about ordinary things more than anything important. The weather. The herbs drying from the rafters. The river outside. Every now and then he’d remember enough to mutter something that sounded important, only for it to vanish before I could ask what he meant. It was like trying to catch smoke with my hands.
I helped where I could. Chopped firewood, carried water, sorted herbs I couldn’t name. The work kept my mind busy, though it never stayed there for long. Every quiet moment dragged me back to the river.
The old man noticed eventually. He followed my gaze to the trees, frowned for a moment, then asked if I was waiting for someone.
I said yes.
A few minutes later, he asked me the same thing again.
***
The old man suddenly set his cup down and rose to his feet.
Without saying a word, he wandered toward the shelves lining the back wall. His fingers drifted across dusty books, old jars, and loose scraps of paper before stopping on a yellowed piece of parchment tucked beneath a wooden box.
He stared at it for a while.
"Hm."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"So that’s where you wandered off to."
He carried it over and laid it across the table between us.
It wasn’t much of a map. Most of the parchment was empty. Millhaven sat near the center, little more than a rough sketch, while four faded markings surrounded it from different directions. There were no roads connecting them, only thin strokes of ink that looked as though time itself had tried to erase them.
I leaned closer.
"What is this?"
The old man rested both hands on the table. His eyes lingered on the parchment, distant enough that I wasn’t sure he was seeing it anymore.
"Old memories."
He let out a quiet chuckle.
"Or something an old fool told me once. Might’ve been me."
His weathered finger traced one of the faded marks on the map.
"They called them Regents."
The word lingered on his tongue.
A tired smile flickered across his face, carrying a warmth that didn’t belong in a conversation like this.
"They weren’t always what they are now."
His hand came to rest against his temple as he searched for something just beyond his reach.
"I used to know them."
The words came out almost as a whisper.
"I remember that much."
His finger slowly traced around the village instead.
"This place..." He frowned. "It won’t end."
I looked back at the map.
"How does any of this lead back to them?"
’I’d expected whatever they worshipped to be behind all of this, not other people. Still, I wasn’t ready to rule that god out just yet.’ I rubbed my chin, lost in thought.
The old man’s eyes suddenly widened.
He froze, then slapped a hand against his forehead.
Prompting me to flinch.
"Come on... come on..." he muttered, his voice trembling with frustration. "Remember, you foolish old man. It’s there... I know it’s there..."
He struck himself again.
And again.
Each blow was harder than the last.
"Agh... just a little more..."
"Old man, stop!"
I lunged toward him, but I was too late.
A thin line of blood had already begun running down the side of his forehead.
He stared at it without reacting, as though he hadn’t even noticed.
I grabbed the nearest cloth and pressed it against the wound before he could hit himself again, forcing his hand away from his head.
"What are you doing?" I asked, unable to keep the alarm out of my voice.
"Ah..."
The old man went still.
The frustration drained from his face. His breathing steadied, and something long buried seemed to settle behind his eyes.
"I remember."
His lips curved into a faint smile, but it didn’t last.
It disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
"They’re the keystones," he said quietly. "The rot took root because of them. As long as they remain... this place won’t die."
His gaze drifted toward the window, beyond the forest.
"And the seventh bell..." His voice turned heavy. "It announces the end of this forest."
He fell silent for a heartbeat before adding,
"...and after that..."
His eyes drifted somewhere far beyond the cabin.
"Dunwall."
The name lingered on his tongue.
"The continent."
’What continent? So I really wasn’t on Earth...’
The thought wouldn’t leave me.
I’d already suspected I wasn’t on Earth, but hearing the name of a continent I’d never heard of erased whatever doubt remained.
’Then where am I? The game did mention another world... Could this be it?’
It was the only explanation that made any sense.
He looked at me.
The clarity in his eyes was already fading, slipping through his fingers before he could hold onto it. He seemed to notice it too. His jaw tightened with quiet urgency, forcing the words out before they disappeared with the rest.
"You have to kill them," he said.
His breathing caught.
"The four Regents."
Then the light behind his eyes was gone.
I had already taken the parchment from his hands.
The light behind his eyes faded as quickly as it had appeared.
He blinked at me, then his gaze drifted down to the parchment resting in my hands. His brows slowly knitted together with innocent curiosity.
"Oh?"
He leaned in a little.
"What’s this?"
He squinted at it for a long moment before looking back at me.
"Looks important."
Then, with complete sincerity, he asked,
"Where’d you get it?"
A disbelieving laugh almost escaped me, but it turned into a sigh instead.
I lowered my gaze to the parchment.
The faded ink shifted beneath my fingers.
I blinked.
For a moment I thought the firelight was playing tricks on me, but the letters really were moving. They loosened from the page like drops of black paint in water, drifting across the parchment before gathering somewhere else. Entire lines vanished. New ones quietly took their place.
Without thinking, I leaned closer.
The first entry settled.
First Regent — The Broodmother
Rank: Lesser Beast
Evolution: Juvenile
Domain: Hollow Nursery
The first to lose herself.
The ink flowed again, unhurried.
Second Regent — The Shepherd
Rank: Lesser Beast
Evolution: Elder
Domain: Saint Aldren Monastery
A mad saint
Another ripple spread across the page.
Third Regent — The Ferryman
Rank: Greater Beast
Evolution: Mature
Domain: Blackwater Quarry
He never stopped searching for a way out.
My eyes lingered on the rank.
Greater Beast...
The words were painfully familiar.
So it really used the same ranking system... I stared at the words a second longer.
My stomach tightened.
The parchment shifted one last time.
The page emerged more slowly than the others, the ink hesitating before settling.
Fourth Regent — The Lady of Steel
Rank: ???
Evolution: ???
Domain: Blackbriar Manor
She refused to break.
The ink slowly came to rest.
I re-read the page, hoping I had misunderstood. However, I hadn’t. The weakest among them was already a Lesser Beast.
The third had reached Greater Beast.
I let out a slow breath without realizing I’d been holding it.
Willard...
Just what kind of chance did you think you were buying me?
I was still Unawakened.
That alone changed everything.
There was no way I could fight them head-on. Not now. Not in my current state.
A Lesser Beast was already something most people would never be able to overcome, and the Ferryman had reached the level of a Greater Beast.
That wasn’t an opponent.
That was a death sentence.
If one of them appeared in front of me right now, I wouldn’t lose.
I would be erased.
The only reason I even had a chance was because they were still evolving. They hadn’t reached their final forms yet. There was still room for them to grow stronger.
And that was the only opening I had.
A very small one.
Maybe too small.
Because the truth was simple.
I was trying to kill beings that stood several steps above me while I was still at the very bottom.
And I couldn’t even rely on Awakening. Becoming fully Kindled was a road I hadn’t even stepped onto, and I was already being forced to challenge monsters standing at the end of it.
There was no guarantee I would survive long enough to reach that point.
This wasn’t a plan.
And the price of losing was my life.
If I wanted to survive, I’d have to make the most of the only advantage I had.
The wiki.
My hand slammed against the table before I realized what I was doing.
The clay cup toppled over, water spilling across the wood.
"Careful," the old man muttered, reaching for it. "You’ll waste the water."
"I’d rather it be their blood."
The words left my mouth colder than intended.
I watched the water spread across the table, my jaw tightening.
I was furious. Not just because they had condemned an entire village, but because I needed answers. How had four ordinary people become monsters like this?
Then I wanted to hear it from them before I buried them.
I blinked.
’Since when did I think like that?’
I clicked my tongue, my grip tightening around the edge of the table until the wood groaned beneath my fingers. A cold glare settled on the parchment
"I’ll think about that later," I muttered. "Right after I collect each of their hearts."
The old man was still fussing over the spilled water, muttering to himself as he wiped the table dry. I watched him for a moment before speaking.
"Hey, old man," I called. "Bring me a candle."
The old man disappeared into the cabin for a minute before returning with a stubby candle and a small box of matches. He placed them in my hand without asking why.
I turned the candle over between my fingers, then looked back at him.
"Old man."
"Hm?"
"I need a room."
He blinked at me.
"A dark one. No windows. Lock the door behind me, and whatever you hear..." I met his eyes. "Don’t come in until I open it myself."
He studied me for a long moment, then gave a slow nod as if he’d already forgotten half of what I’d said.
"Dark room," he murmured to himself. "Lock the door."
He shuffled toward the back of the cabin, motioning for me to follow.
As I stepped after him, my grip tightened around the candle.
This wasn’t just another gamble. It was the first time I’d trusted what I knew over what I could see. If the wiki had gotten this wrong...
There wouldn’t be a second attempt.
The ritual was about to begin.
The Rite of Invitation.
If I made a mistake, death wouldn’t be the worst thing waiting for me.
Because whatever answered didn’t care about violence.
Only the price I was willing to pay.