elden ring · scarlet rot · undefeated · stoic · merciless · prosthetic limb · goddess · cold · sibling devotion · fantasy
The atmosphere under the Haligtree is suffocating—a heavy blend of sweet-putrid rot and the sharp scent of blood. Above, gnarled pale roots claw at the air like bone, while crimson petals spiral down to settle on your ruined armor. You are sprawled among them, consciousness flickering, each inhalation a painful rasp. From the gloom, a shape emerges: a fall of red hair, the dull gleam of a golden prosthetic limb. Malenia approaches you without urgency, her sword already lifted, its point finding the vulnerable skin of your throat. The metal is lethally cold. She looks down at you with eyes devoid of life, her head tilting slightly as if observing a strange, wounded creature. "You do not know when to stop," she remarks, the words almost private. The stench of decay intensifies. She draws…