NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 20: Dracúl Aeternum.
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Glory to my Proofreaders: Bakenekon and Solare. For they are the ones who point out mistakes and act as my favourite walls to bounce ideas off of.
I know, I know. Been a while. I blame my ADHD and pathological need to procrastinate even though I wanna write.
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A low, pulsing warmth spread through his body—deep in his chest, like embers nestled within his ribs. It wasn't painful. If anything, it was... comforting. He stirred with a slow exhale, arms resting limply at his sides, muscles still tingling as though his veins had been replaced with fire.
Something soft brushed against his cheek.
Something... warm?
He blinked slowly, his vision coming into focus. His head wasn't on the cold stone floor of the cathedral. No—he was lying on something much softer. Silky, warm, firm... and moving ever so slightly with each breath.
He looked up.
Melina.
Her face hovered above his, framed by a curtain of soft, light-brown hair, her sea-green eyes filled with concern. She looked tired—no, worried. Her brows furrowed, and her hand was resting just beside his cheek.
"…Melina's giving me a lap pillow…" He muttered, voice hoarse but steady, though much deeper and more gravelly than usual which he attested to his passing out. "Huh… Did eating that heart kill me and this is heaven?"
Melina's expression froze. A single, twitching breath passed through her nose. Her lips pulled into a barely restrained flustered frown.
"…At the very least." she said flatly with an unimpressed stare, a blush strewn across her cheeks. "it seems thy brain is still intact."
Tarnished smirked a little, already settling further into the plush comfort of her thighs, shifting his head until he found an even better angle.`
Perfect.
He opened his mouth to say something else—only to feel that familiar divine chill brush the back of his mind.
Marika appeared beside Melina in her usual astral shimmer, arms crossed and golden eyes gleaming with cold disapproval. She sat primly, one leg crossed over the other, hair flowing like sunfire in a nonexistent breeze.
"Not only dost thou partake in dragon communion, and scare my daughter half to death..." She said, voice sharp. "Then thou awakest evolved, and somehow manage to be a pervert."
Tarnished blinked and raised an eyebrow internally. 'How does thinking I died and went to heaven make me a pervert?'
Marika tilted her head, smirking ever so slightly.
"The fact that thou must ask tells me all I need to know."
He paused.
"…That doesn't even make sense."
"Exactly."
He sighed, rubbing his temples as he turned his attention back to Melina—who still hadn't moved, though her fingers now hovered above his brow. A faint blush dusted her cheeks, but she wasn't pushing him away. In fact, she brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes with a gentle, distracted motion.
"How long was I out?" he asked, shifting again, just enough to get comfortable.
Melina looked down at him, expression softening slightly.
"Three hours."
His eyes shot open. "Seriously?"
She nodded, then glanced away quickly, as if embarrassed to have been watching him that whole time.
And then the earlier words finally clicked.
'Wait… What do you mean "evolved"?' he asked, shifting his focus to Marika again.
She hummed, tilting her head ever so slightly as her eyes glowed brighter. They were almost proud, though she would never say it aloud.
"See for thyself, I did some basic scans of thy body via the system.."
A familiar system prompt blinked to life in his vision, floating just above Melina's lap like a divine message scrawled in light:
[Through a special reaction formed by baptising in the blood of one of the highest class Ancient Dragons, followed by communion with the Ancient Dragon Matriarch's Heart, a never before seen bloodline has awakened within you.]
[You are now the Progenitor of a new Dragon Kin race.]
[Would you like to name your Bloodline?]
Tarnished blinked at the floating panel, stunned.
'...Seriously?!'
Marika sighed with clear disdain. "Aye. I wish it were not so. I should have forbade thee from eating that acursed heart…"
He stared at the message for a long moment, then, with a casual breath, he mentally tapped YES.
The text shifted.
[Please input name for new race.]
He smirked slightly and typed it in:
[Dragonborn.]
The moment he confirmed, Marika immediately side-eyed him, gold eyes narrowing like a disappointed schoolteacher.
"…'Dragonborn'?" She repeated, voice dry as ash. "Thou art not the most creative soul, are thee?"
He scoffed mentally. 'Well, you try naming a new species on the spot, alright? It's harder than it looks!'
Marika sniffed, looking away dramatically, arms folded once more. "I would have chosen something elegant. Something poetic. Not... that."
Tarnished rolled his eyes up at the sky, still half-cradled in the warmth of Melina's lap, her hand occasionally brushing through his hair. He shifted slightly, arms folded behind his head as he sighed aloud.
'Alright, alright,' he thought lazily, letting the words drift toward Marika. 'If you're gonna give me that look… what would you have named it then, huh?'
Marika shimmered into clarity beside Melina again, still in that elegant seated pose, her astral robes flowing around her like sunlit mist. She didn't answer right away—just tapped one slender finger against her chin, expression unreadable.
Then she looked down at him, golden eyes gleaming with quiet authority.
"Hadst thou asked…" She said in that low, lilting voice, rich with an ancient rhythm, "I would have named it Dracúl Aeternum—a name for an immortal legacy of strength, born from Rot and Fire. A lineage not of Beasts… but of Kings."
Tarnished blinked once, then again.
'…Woah.' He thought, a genuine flicker of awe blooming behind his eyes. 'That's… yeah, that sounds cool as hell.'
His mouth twitched into a small grin, and he tilted his head ever so slightly in Melina's lap. She seemed content, unaware of the divine banter playing out beside her, still brushing a lock of hair away from his brow with a light, rhythmic motion.
'What does it mean?' He asked silently, eyes narrowing slightly at the unfamiliar tongue.
Marika's voice in his mind was almost softer now, though she'd never admit it aloud.
"It is High Speech," she explained. "Dracúl, meaning Noble Dragonblood. Aeternum, the Eternal. Together… The Eternal Dragon Bloodline."
He whistled softly under his breath.
'Yeah... Okay. Yours is better.'
With a flick of his hand, he brought the system prompt back up in his vision.
[Rename Race?]
[Current: Dragonborn]
[New: Dracúl Aeternum]
→ Confirm?
He smirked and tapped YES.
[Race Successfully Renamed.]
[Progenitor of the Dracúl Aeternum: John Elden Ring]
Marika gave a quiet, pleased exhale as she rested her chin on her fingers, still watching him from the side of Melina's grace-lit form.
"Better, a name fit for the future Elden Lord's lineage." she said in that smug, composed tone of hers. "Now thou may carry the name of thy legacy with pride."
Tarnished chuckled silently to himself. 'Still think Dragonborn sounded punchier.'
Marika narrowed her eyes slightly, unimpressed.
He turned his head just a bit and closed his eyes again, sighing softly into Melina's lap, her fingers still faintly moving through his hair.
Melina glanced down at him briefly, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
"…Art thou smiling to thyself again?"
"Nope~!" He said out loud, eyes closed, the grin refusing to leave his face. "Just enjoying my life."
Marika muttered dryly, "And dragging divinity into foolishness with every breath."
Tarnished opened his eyes, turning toward Marika with a quip already forming on his lips. Something about dragging divinity into foolishness, maybe a "you love it" or two. But as he tilted his head, something strange caught his attention—a single lock of hair, drifting into view at the edge of his vision.
It was white.
He stared at it for a moment, blinking once. Then twice.
"…The hell?" he muttered, reaching up and tugging the strand between his fingers. "Is that strand of my hair white?"
Melina hesitated, her breath catching for a moment. Then, quietly, she nodded. "Aye. Since thou didst fall unconscious… some of thy hair began to lose its color. But that…" she paused, glancing away briefly, "...That is not the only change thou seemeth to have undergone."
Tarnished's brow furrowed. The teasing tone in his voice vanished.
"What else changed?"
Melina coughed softly into her hand, her cheeks tinted pink. She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she pointed downward, toward the rest of his body.
He lifted his head off her lap with some reluctance, sitting up slightly for the first time. His limbs felt… heavier. Denser. Stronger.
The moment he looked down, his eyes widened.
The torso that had once held the beginnings of a toned, athletic build was now completely transformed. Thick cords of muscle pressed against his skin, sharply defined like they'd been carved from marble and sun-hardened steel.
His abdomen was no longer just "fit", it was etched with the kind of definition that looked like it belonged on a Greek statue. The kind that would take a normal man decades of brutal training and zero distraction to earn.
His pants that once comfortably fit, now clung tightly to his hips and thighs, barely holding together under the strain of new growth. His legs had grown longer, his frame larger. Taller. More imposing.
He blinked down at himself, lifting his arms and holding them aloft to study them. His forearms had thickened. Veins lined the hardened musculature like rivers of power beneath the skin.
"…My body's grown," he muttered, stunned. He flexed experimentally, watching the muscle strain beneath his skin. "And I feel stronger. Like I could throw a dragon."
"Aye," Melina said softly. "But… there is more. Look closer—thy chest, thy throat."
He tilted his head, trying to glance downward, but the angle was off. Before he could ask, Melina reached into her satchel and pulled free a small polished mirror.
She held it up to him, tilting it gently toward his chest.
There, pulsing just above his sternum, was a low molten glow, faintly orange-gold. It beat in perfect rhythm with his heartbeat. Each thrum was like the low, slow strike of a war drum. It wasn't just a glow, it was alive.
It was almost like Greyoll's Heart had fused into him, its presence etched into his soul and flesh alike.
Tarnished stared at the heartbeat for a long moment, words caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.
"...It changed me." He whispered. "More than I thought."
Tarnished blinked at the mirror, then paused as he processed something else.
"…My voice." He said slowly, realizing it now. "It's deeper... rougher."
Melina didn't speak. She simply adjusted the mirror again, this time upward.
His breath caught in his throat as a faintly familiar notification popped up, though it was ignored entirely.
[It's still you!]
His face was still his—but different. The soft edges of his jaw were gone, replaced by clean, angular lines. His cheeks were more defined, the faint remnants of travel-worn face fat seemingly melted away. There was a handsomeness now that felt carved by fire and legacy, not vanity.
From the corner of his lips, he could see his teeth, they were longer, sharper. His canines had also elongated just slightly, now unmistakably fangs, ones sharp enough that they could probably pierce stone.
But that wasn't what made his breath hitch.
It was the eyes.
Though his irises retained their familiar brilliant azure, the golden embers of Marika's Grace still flickering at the edges, his pupils had changed entirely. They were now vertical slits, visibly draconic, like something pulled from the ancient depths of the Lands Between.
A Predator's eyes. A Sovereign's eyes.
And yes, the white hair strands—several now—were plainly visible, the exact shimmering color of immortal dragon scales.
"That…" he whispered, staring into the mirror. "That's me?"
Marika's voice spoke gently in his mind, but with clear weight.
"Thou art no longer simply Tarnished. Thou art the Progenitor of the Dracúl Aeternum. This change is now thy birthright… And thy burden."
Tarnished lowered the mirror, his hands now visibly trembling. Whether it was from shock or quiet anticipation, even he wasn't sure.
He exhaled, slow and shaky.
"…Cool." He muttered, voice hoarse.
Melina blinked. "…Thou art impossible."
He cracked a grin, eyes glinting like a storm of gold and flame.
"Yeah." He said. "But now I'm impossible with dragon eyes."
Melina groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as Tarnished muttered his joke beneath his breath, still staring at his reflection in the mirror with a mix of disbelief and awe.
"Truly, thy humor remains as dreadful as ever." she said, voice dry as Caelid's wind.
Tarnished finally pushed himself up, sitting upright and inspecting his newly transformed body one last time. Every motion felt... Refined. Heightened. Even his breath came easier. More purposeful. Controlled. Like his very lungs had evolved.
He exhaled, rising to his feet with barely a sound, no strain or stiffness. The strength he now felt humming in his bones was electric. He stretched slightly, standing tall at his now 6'3 foot tall frame, up from 5'10.
He glanced toward Marika, who was still seated just behind Melina, looking up at him with her arms crossed and a deep, weary sigh pulling from her lips.
'So,' he said aloud, cracking his neck once with a grin. 'Anything else I should know? You know, since I apparently turned into a one-man apocalypse while unconscious.'
Marika closed her eyes for a beat. Then sighed again. "Aye. Of course there is."
A system prompt shimmered into view before him:
[Due to the awakening of the Dracúl Aeternum bloodline, numerous innate abilities have manifested.]
Another prompt followed swiftly:
[You may now channel any acquired Dragon Communion incantation directly through your body.
No external catalysts or communion rituals required. It is unclear if this applies to other incantations as well.]
[Devouring the Hearts of Dragons will grant you even more untold power. It is unclear if there is a limit.]
Tarnished blinked, eyebrows rising. "Wait, seriously?"
A fourth notification snapped in immediately after:
[You have absorbed the full might of Greyoll's Heart.]
[Unique Draconic Ability Acquired: Greyoll's Roar.]
Tarnished stood frozen, lips parting slightly.
'Greyoll's Roar?' he thought, nearly breathless. 'I thought I'd have to get it specifically, but I got it for free…?'
Marika's expression shifted slightly, her gaze sharp. "Thou hast consumed the heart of a God-Beast, fool. What didst thou expect? A nap and some indigestion?"
She stood slowly, folding her arms beneath her chest with a weary shake of her head.
"Thou hast gained far more than thou bargained for. And while I would be more livid at thy recklessness, the power it hath granted thee will prove... instrumental." She sighed. "So I shall hold my tongue. For now."
He turned toward her slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Surely that's it though, right? No more unexpected surprises?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she simply lifted a hand, and snapped.
The stat screen materialized in his vision once more.
[STATS PAGE – Level 34 | Radagon's Soreseal Equipped]
Name: John Elden Ring
Class: Samurai
Race: Progenitor of the Dracúl Aeternum
Talisman: Radagon's Soreseal
Burden: Light Burden
Level: 34
Vigor: 38 (Well now. Thou finally resembleth someone capable of surviving more than a stiff breeze. A true improvement, begrudging though it be.)
Mind: 21 (Still dim, but at least now thou hast the capacity to remember thine own plan mid-battle.)
Endurance: 36 (Now thou art not merely breathing, but thriving. Impressive. Almost Dragon-like... Almost.)
Strength: 33 (Hmm. Very well. Mayhap thou canst now swing a proper blade without toppling over.)
Dexterity: 36 (Agile as ever. I daresay... slightly less squirrel-like now.)
Intelligence: 9 (Still a dunce, I could not be less surprised if I tried.)
Faith: 18 (At last, a flicker of piety. It's shocking, truly.)
Arcane: 18 (Mmm, even this thou hast begun to embrace. Perhaps not entirely wasted on thee after all.)
Tarnished blinked, then chuckled.
He stared at the screen in awe, hands twitching with fresh energy, his pulse steady even as his heart thundered with dragon-fueled might.
"That's… +10 to all Stats except Int… Holy shit…" He muttered under his breath, lips twitching into a slow, satisfied grin that showed off his new fangs. "I'm... I'm fucking OP. Horrifically overleveled."
Melina looked up at him, clearly catching the tail end of his whisper.
"…Pardon?"
"Nothing."
Marika's voice cut through the quiet, firm and cold as a whetted blade.
"Do not be deceived by thy newfound strength, my champion." She stepped closer, arms folded beneath her chest, golden eyes boring into him with sharp clarity.
"Thou hast been reborn, aye—but even now, any one of my children could still reduce thee to naught more than bloodstained phlegm with relative ease. Do not dare to think otherwise."
Tarnished hummed thoughtfully, stretching his neck slightly as he mulled it over.
'Fair.' He thought while nodding in agreement. 'I doubt they'd be as weak as they were in the game. If they're anywhere close to lore-accurate in strength, it's gonna take a hell of a lot more than this to get anywhere.'
Marika, perhaps for the first time in a long while, let out a soft breath of relief. "Good. At least thou hast not let thy arrogance swell with thy veins."
He chuckled softly, his body still warm and alive with power, when suddenly his stomach growled loudly with impatience.
"Man," he muttered, one hand resting against his toned abdomen, "I could eat a horse right now… Guess being reborn costs a lot of calories."
Melina, seated beside him with her legs tucked gracefully beneath her, let out a quiet hum. "I could fetch us rations. There is little edible in this cursed land… I doubt we shall find sustenance here."
He blinked toward the fading horizon, the amber sun melting into Caelid's sickly red skyline. The land looked worse in this light, like a rotting wound left open for too long.
"That's... an idea." he muttered distantly, but his gaze drifted as a stray, more reckless idea came to his mind.
It had shifted toward the altar of Dragon Communion again.
Melina noticed it instantly, her eyes widened. "Thou canst not be serious…"
A shimmer marked Marika's sudden arrival beside him, her arms already crossed as she watched him with a narrowed glare.
Tarnished raised his hand.
In it, the heart of the Rotten Dragon Ekzykes appeared, summoned from his inventory with a low hum of ancient power. He turned it in his hand slowly, the texture pulsing faintly with lingering rot, heat, and something older than memory.
'You said it yourself…' He spoke to Marika in his mind, not taking his eyes off the heart.
"I'm nowhere near strong enough to defeat those Demigods. Not like this. Not yet." He raised the heart slightly. "These hearts… they're the key, aren't they?"
Marika's frown deepened. Her gaze lingered on the heart, not with awe, but with old, bitter knowledge.
Melina only heard part of his thoughts, but it was enough. She stepped forward slightly, brow furrowed, voice soft but laced with warning.
"I understand why thou would do this… but Dragon Communion is a slippery slope." Her hand hovered in the air for a moment before falling to her side. "To devour the flesh of ancient beasts… To steal their power… 'Tis no simple act. Shouldst thou go further, thou must consider what it may cost."
From the side, Marika watched her daughter with what could only be called approval. Though her expression remained stern, a slight softness touched her features.
"Wise counsel, my dear daughter." She murmured, though Melina could not hear her.
Tarnished considered their words, nodding slowly.
"I understand," he said aloud. "But this is a risk I'm willing to take. Who knows what's coming? What lies down the line? I need to be strong enough to face it head-on."
Inside, his thoughts continued, darker and more grounded.
'Especially if anything changes from what I remember. If any of the demigods are as strong as you imply, Marika… And if Siegmeyer is here…? Then there is no telling what else could be out there. My usual plans won't be enough. Not even close.'
Marika was silent for a long moment.
Then, finally, she sighed. "Very well. I shall watch over thee, as I always have. But if I sense thee slipping, if I see thee begin to fall to this power's thralldom… Thou wilt obey mine orders. Properly, this time."
He smirked slightly, inclining his head.
'…Deal.'
Turning toward Melina, he stepped closer and extended a hand lightly.
"Thank you. I'll need you to keep me in check, Melina. If I lose sight of myself… Will you be the one to stop me?"
Melina blinked, then smiled softly, a warm smile reaching her eyes. "I shall be the first to beat sense into thee. That is my duty, is it not? As thy maiden?"
Tarnished laughed, a loud, deep belly laugh that echoed through the broken cathedral.
"Damn right it is."
And with that, he turned fully toward the altar, Ekzykes' heart still pulsing faintly in his hand. He stepped forward, raising it slowly toward the stone pedestal, the mist already beginning to swirl in anticipation of the next communion.
The path he walked now was far from safe.
But it was his.
And he would walk it through fire, rot, and ruin. For power and for freedom.
And for whatever fate awaited him at the end of this broken world.
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Stones please.
Author's Note:
Kind of went a bit hot n loose with the lore here, but we don't really know what the consequences of eating a lore accurate Dragon Heart at the level of Greyoll's after being baptised in their blood for a while would be, so I chose to be creative with it to make a more fun and enjoyable story.
But I guess that's the plus of working with From Soft lore, right? They don't explain much, so a lot can go up to your own interpretation. This is mine. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!
And I know some of you were thinking that his new bloodline would come from Dark Souls, but unfortunately, that isn't the case. Hopefully you're not disappointed too much. Not my fault From Soft decided to name the 'advanced' dragons in this world 'Ancient Dragons' lol
In other shocking news, in the next chapter, our protagonist will finally put on a shirt!
THE HORROR!
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Next Chapter Title: The Chapter Where He Puts on a Shirt.
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