The Land of Shadow, Gravesite Plain.
A blonde knight knelt on the ground, her gaze fixed on a faint, ethereal cross shimmering before her. Her eyes were distant.
"Lord Miquella..."
Her name was Leda—a former member of the Golden Needle Knights who once served under Miquella. Among them, she considered herself the most loyal, the most trusted by her lord—at least, that's what she believed.
Now, though the Golden Needle Knights had, for reasons unknown, dwindled to just her, Leda still carried the title with pride. Following the faint traces Miquella had left behind, she had pursued them all the way to this secluded land.
Though she had finally arrived at her destination and could indeed sense Miquella's lingering presence, what awaited her at the end of that trail was not Miquella himself—
but only a part of him.
Or rather... fragments of his corpse.
When she first saw them, Leda's heart stopped for a moment. Yet, upon kneeling down to examine them closely, she realized that this seemed to be a portion of Miquella's own body, deliberately separated and discarded here—complete with a message inscribed beside it.
[I have discarded a portion of my body here...]
For reasons she couldn't quite explain, Leda could tell beyond any doubt that the handwriting was Miquella's—every curve and stroke matched his exact writing style.
Once she confirmed this wasn't evidence of Miquella's murder and dismemberment, she exhaled softly in relief.
Then, slowly, her brow furrowed again.
The message suggested Lord Miquella was still alive and unhurt... but if that was the case, why would he abandon part of his body here?
Staring at the cross-shaped pattern formed by the severed remains, Leda fell into deep thought.
The Land of Shadow... the abandoned flesh... and those footprints...
A faint memory stirred at the back of her mind.
Although Miquella had never shared his plans with her—rarely even speaking to her at all, and often going out of his way to avoid her—Leda had still gathered information through other means.
Through the "interrogation" of those she deemed insufficiently loyal to Miquella, she had learned fragments of a secret: that within the Land of Shadow existed a boundary through which no physical body could pass.
Tap, tap, tap—
The sound of approaching footsteps cut through her thoughts. Instinctively, Leda gripped the greatsword at her side.
"Who's there?"
She turned sharply, spotting a Tarnished she had never seen before—a strange figure whose presence felt oddly out of place.
Before the stranger could speak, she noticed his gaze wasn't fixed on her, but on the luminous cross behind her.
That cross—Miquella's mark—was only visible to those blessed with Guidance. Judging by his expression, he wasn't here for her at all... and seemed more surprised to see her standing there.
"Are you also searching for Lord Miquella?"
"I am," the stranger replied simply, nodding. His eyes lingered on the glowing cross behind her.
"That mark over there…"
"That was left by Lord Miquella," Leda explained, shaking her head. "But he himself is not here."
After confirming that the other was also seeking her lord, Leda relaxed slightly and sheathed her knight's sword.
"In that case, we are companions. Allow me to introduce myself—I am Leda, the most loyal and trusted of Lord Miquella's knights. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me—"
"You're Leda?"
Hearing her name, the Tarnished looked genuinely surprised.
Leda wasn't. As the last of the Golden Needle Knights, she was well-known among Miquella's remaining followers. It wasn't unusual that he'd heard of her.
Thinking that recognition would save her the trouble of introductions—and already preparing to adopt a senior, mentor-like air—
The Tarnished spoke again.
"That infamous pervert?"
Leda froze.
An awkward silence filled the air.
The strange Tarnished was, of course, Lloyd.
Having already secured Malenia, he hadn't wasted any time—upon arriving in the Land of Shadow, he immediately drew her forth to serve as his guide.
Following the direction she indicated, Lloyd eventually discovered a fragment of Miquella—since even a fragment was still Miquella.
And there, he encountered Leda.
As for how he knew about her...
The answer was simple. On the journey here, Seriel—considering Leda a rather peculiar individual and suspecting they might cross paths—had taken the liberty of briefing Lloyd on her situation.
Leda. Female. One of Brother's direct Golden Needle Knights—and the primary, most direct reason behind his fear of women.
"Because his own combat ability was so low, Brother usually placed enchantments on his subordinates as a means of self-protection. It prevented any ill-intentioned individuals from infiltrating his ranks and also strengthened their loyalty and unity..."
"But Leda was an exception."
"Unlike the others, the enchantment my brother cast on her was the strongest of them all—but its effect was the opposite of what it should have been. Though she was enchanted, Brother's intent was to use that very charm to lessen Leda's 'loyalty' toward him. Even if she were to betray him, it would have been acceptable."
"As for the reason..."
"Let me tell you a few things she's done."
"Believing my brother was far too weak to be left unguarded, that woman began stalking him—though she called it 'secret protection.'"
"The Golden Needle Knights, originally under Brother's direct command, had always been a relaxed and harmonious group. Brother was never a strict leader, so discipline was loose, and everyone got along well."
"But after Leda joined, she declared that such informality was 'an affront to Lord Miquella,' a sign of disloyalty. Then she simply drew her sword and executed anyone she deemed 'unworthy to serve Lord Miquella.'"
"Her extreme behavior often left my brother completely speechless."
"Take Malenia's case—her act of spreading the Scarlet Rot across Caelid was already extreme enough, wasn't it?"
"But even then, Malenia only did that after being defeated. She realized she couldn't fulfill the task my brother had entrusted to her and thought that when he returned, he could cure her corruption and surely heal Caelid as well. That's why she gritted her teeth and pulled out the needle."
"But if it had been Leda, she would have pulled the needle out before the battle even began—expressionless, just to be safe. She'd probably threaten Radahn into killing himself, and even after his death, she'd still flood Caelid with corruption to ensure my brother's plan succeeded."
"And she'd do all this without needing any of Brother's charm at all. Even if he hadn't planned to involve her or told her nothing, she'd still take matters into her own hands."
"I'm not exaggerating. My brother actually forged a greatsword for her imbued purely with cleansing power—because he was worried something like this might happen. He also strictly forbade me from having any contact with her, partly because he didn't want me influenced by her, and partly because he feared that if she ever gained access to my Strength, she'd do something truly terrifying."
"But even so, she still used that sword to kill countless comrades—simply because she believed they were disloyal to my brother. Many of them were Golden Needle Knights like herself, members of his own order—his most trusted followers."
Seriel paused, took a slow breath, and then gave her summary.
"In your terms, she's a full-fledged 'Miquella fanatic'—possibly suffering from a genuine mental disorder. The kind that could get a doctor's note and a certified diagnosis."
After listening to Seriel's account, Lloyd frowned slightly.
"Didn't your brother ever try to rein her in?"
"He couldn't."
Seriel shook her head.
"My brother isn't a fighter, and his temperament is... well, overly gentle. Too forgiving, really. As long as Leda acted even a little pitiful in front of him, he couldn't bring himself to punish her harshly."
"The bigger issue is that even when she's completely unhinged, she still retains enough rationality to justify her actions. She always finds reasons that sound plausible—reasons that make it impossible for others to refute her. And to outsiders, everything she does looks like genuine devotion to my brother, even though he never wanted that kind of loyalty."
"In short—if you run into her, you'd better keep your guard up."
"Not that I think she can threaten you," Seriel added, "but when it comes to pursuing my brother, she's even more obsessive than Malenia..."
Time shifted back to the present.
When Lloyd suddenly said, "So you're the famous Leda, huh?", Leda didn't seem particularly offended.
Part of it was because Lloyd was talking about her rather than Lord Miquella—she didn't take such things personally.
But more importantly, Miquella's lingering "enchantment" still pulsed faintly in her mind, subtly restraining her thoughts and emotions, keeping her from acting too erratically.
So even though Lloyd's blunt comment left her silent for a while, she didn't hold it against him.
After some exchange between them—during which Leda confirmed that Lloyd was indeed searching for Miquella and could even sense His aura (though in truth, it was the Malenia-brand guiding needle doing the work)—she came to regard him as an ally.
Then, she began explaining her side of things.
"By the way, have you met my other companions? They, too, were guided by Lord Miquella and now pursue Him."
"You must be surprised, aren't you? We come from vastly different backgrounds—conflict between us wouldn't be strange."
"But now, all of us are bound by Lord Miquella's grace. Because of that, we can walk side by side... It is, without question, a true miracle."
At first, Lloyd didn't quite get it. It was just a search party, wasn't it? How did this qualify as a "miracle"?
But under Leda's guidance, when he actually met the others she spoke of—even Lloyd had to admit, Miquella's ability to unite people was something else entirely.
A veteran of the Blood Dynasty.
A knight of the Redmane Legion.
A heavily armored, socially withdrawn man-child.
And even...
A Hornsent.
Yes—one of those.
The same race so stubborn that even Marika herself couldn't change their minds. So obstinate, in fact, that they'd left her with psychological scars.
"You're curious about the Hornsent?"
Noticing Lloyd's expression, Leda paused for a moment before explaining.
"When it comes to people likely to cause conflict, he's certainly the first who comes to mind."
"Lady Marika commanded Lord Messmer to purge the Tower Folk. His kin perished in those flames... His hatred for the Erdtree is understandable."
She hesitated briefly, then looked at the Hornsent standing nearby and shook her head.
"But cruelty toward one's own kind is part of human nature. The Tower Folk are no exception."
"They weren't pure or innocent souls—merely the ones who happened to lose."
"How tragic."
Lloyd didn't comment.
After all, while the Hornsent's deeds were... eccentric, they still counted as some of the most "brilliant" figures in the Lands Between—where eccentricity itself was often the mark of greatness.
But if you dropped that same shining star into the world of Dark Souls?
Forget brilliance—he'd be the one calling them too extreme.
And the irony wasn't lost on Lloyd. Because right now, standing before that Hornsent, he himself was the brightest, most ridiculous star among those "brilliant ones."
So, though he privately agreed that the Hornsent were a bit unhinged and morally questionable, in this particular case... he really didn't have the right to judge.
After Leda finished introducing her companions, Lloyd took the time to speak with each of them.
"My name is Ansbach. I once served Lord Mohg. Now, like you, I follow the guidance of Lord Miquella..."
"That said, I am but an old, weary soldier. Matters requiring battle are beyond me now..."
That was the veteran of the Blood Dynasty.
The name tickled something in Lloyd's memory. After a moment of thought, he realized he'd indeed heard it before—from Mohg himself.
Only, Mohg hadn't referred to him as an "old, weak soldier," but rather...
"The Chief of the Pureblood Knights?"
At that, Ansbach froze in mild surprise. Then, regaining his composure, he gave a faint, self-effacing smile.
"You've heard of me, then... But it's not as grand as it sounds. That title was nothing more than an honor Lord Mohg granted me for my diligence."
Funny, Lloyd thought to himself. I'm pretty sure you earned that one the hard way.
Still, he wasn't exactly shocked.
In the world of Souls, the old warriors—the "veterans"—were built different.
Forget earning a title like Chief Pureblood Knight; Lloyd wouldn't have been surprised if this old man turned out to be a final DLC boss someday.
(Reference material: a certain old slave currently sipping tea and watching the drama unfold in Castle Morne.)
After realizing who he was talking to, Lloyd turned to Leda.
"I know this old-tim— I mean, this gentleman. I'd like to have a word with him in private."
"Of course," she replied with a nod. "I have matters to reflect on myself. Go ahead."
Under the influence of Miquella's enchantment, Leda was remarkably reasonable—calm, obedient, and accommodating. She readily agreed to Lloyd's request.
Ansbach, on the other hand, looked a bit puzzled.
He didn't recognize Lloyd at all, nor could he guess why this stranger wanted to speak with him privately.
Still, out of courtesy, he nodded and agreed.
Then...
"L-Lord Mohg?"
As the towering figure approached, Ansbach's eyes widened.
He went completely still—as if struck by lightning.