AN: Thank you all for loving this weirdass story, and waiting for the update. I seriously have too many stories going. Don't forget to review.
P.S. HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! DARK SOULS FUCKING 3!

*BANG BANG BANG*

"What are we gonna do?! What are we gonna do?! What are we gonna do?!"

The situation that the Knight found himself in can only be described as very, very precarious. And only then did the moonlight decided to grace him with its borrowed incandescent beauty. Truly, Gwyndolin was laughing at him at this point, his moonlight only there to show him his utter helplessness. BUT, it wasn't that he constantly encountered victory on his path to shy away from difficulties. In fact, he'd like to believe that those difficulties made him the man he was now.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

'Nobody wants to die'. He wanted to say that but it would be completely pointless to do so. So even if there was a horde of bloodthirsty hollows, minutes from breaking the flimsy protection of the door and killing them all. Even if the roof was the last dead-end he preferred to be at while being so horrendously unarmed. Even if he held a pink-haired banshee on his arms and a deprived beauty on his back, he did not say any words to comfort the child, pray to the gods or just flip the finger at them, for he knew that they were laughing at him, laughing from the hell he sent them. It wasn't even funny. Despite that very hopeful thought, he had no inkling of a doubt that even his friends, had they lived, wouldn't even pretend to hide their laughter at his situation.

"TAKASHI! SAVE MEEE!"

But he words he did utter were the very embodiment of melancholy, for dying was something he could do without qualms. But living with ear shattering screeches on his face, he'd sooner die.

"Shut the fuck up and let me die in peace!"

"THIS IS ALL YOU FAULT…"

Exasperated but the ongoing insufferable racket, the Knight had half a mind to kill the pink menace himself, however it wouldn't do to lose his cool in times of desperation. His words only fell into deaf ears but he couldn't blame her at all. The child was only looking for an outlet to release her frustration, a scapegoat to blame instead of taking responsibilities for her own actions. He'd know it seamlessly, after all, he too was the same at the start of his pilgrimage. Dying at the hands of the Taurus Demon enough times to cloud his mind and perish even before entering the white mist. And he blamed every one of his executioners when the fault laid on his own hand. In his desperation, he was stupid enough to challenge the Black Knight sulking in the corner, only to find out firsthand why they were considered elite of the Knights of Gwyn.

*BANG BANG BANG*

Never let you emotion cloud your judgement. That was the lesson he learnt from that hellish week of torture. And by all means, emotional people turned hollow sooner than later. Emotional people, and cocky green faced clerics. He wasn't all too sad to face Vince and Nico's hollowed self, arrogant pricks as they were. In fact, he felt an inhumane sense of satisfaction which only mildly scared him.

"I HATE YOU…. WAIT! You're gonna JUMP OFF the BUILDING?"

Of course, Lady Rhea was the biggest emo of them all. Her beauty directly proportional to her angst. But he couldn't blame her either. Lordran was a place of death and despair, where everything that moved was your potential killer, where not simple death, but a humiliating one lurked in every corner and where hope was just a futile dream at best and Lightning Executioner Smough's toilet paper at worst, she had the right to mope around. But now that he's put his thought into it, Rhea was the only emotional wreck he encountered in Lordran, and in that wretched place, you were either a manifestation of extreme angst, or downright insane. He didn't know what that'd make him.

"YOU'RE FUCKING CRAZY!"

And there was his answer. The Knight sighed for the umpteenth time.

"If it makes you feel any better, this is gonna hurt, A LOT."

The Knight jumped off the building, mainly to silence the constant howls of the banshee, and mildly to save himself from being a hollow sustenance. Unfortunately for him, the banshee only intensified her wails and, much to his dismay, even the blonde deprived joined in.

How in Gwyn's disgusting beard did he get in this situation again?

Ah yes, it all started off at the very lifelike Gargoyle standoff, which lasted at least as long as one faction had enough power to grievously harm the other. And unfortunately, his faction was on the receiving end of said grievous harm. It didn't help that he tried to ignore his instincts. Something felt morally wrong, but it didn't really seem significant while staring at the end of a gun barrel.

"Don't move," Rei growled, pointing her gun at the Knight in obvious anger. He had just tried to pull out his sword, but was found out abruptly as soon as he gripped the hilt.

"Oscar, what do we do?" Yuuki asked in anxiety.

His back was turned to her so he couldn't discern her state, but it sounded as if she was on the scrutiny of yet another gun.

The Knight sighed. He let his guard down in the moment of Rei's abrupt discovery. Why wasn't he dead already? Honestly, by now he would have already revived at the nearest bonfire and be on his merry way. But there was an anomaly he couldn't dare to ignore. Yuuki wasn't a phantom, she wasn't even undead. Considering the fact that she would likely die and actually stay dead, he wasn't going to let that transpire, even if it was a gigantic blow to his pride as one of those lazy bastards who'd rather jump off a cliff rather than trek all the way to the bonfire.

"Truce," he spat out in disdain, his voice giving away his utter contempt at the word. He couldn't quite remember the last time he uttered that insignificant word.

"Denied," a pink haired girl similarly spat out, her attire too lewd to even consider what she said. "Do you really expect us to trust you?"

"Pardon," the Knight pronounced in annoyance, glaring at the pink haired vixen who was supposedly the leader, despite looking the part of an under clothed deprived. "We part ways and forget this ever happened."

"Denied," Pinky scowled and crossed her arms. "You've wrecked our car and you expect us to forget about it?"

The Knight gritted his teeth in fury. "Your car almost resulted in my most gruesome death yet. Do you honestly expect me to forget about that without any contrition? Greater men have died for less."

"Well, I did hit him with the Humvee," a feminine voice added. "Um sorry."

The Knight turned at the direction of the voice, and came face to face with a beautiful blond woman, who looked intoxicated to say the least. Besides her apparent beauty, she had nothing on her except for a cushion covering her modesty. How devious. Using flesh to dissipate his wrath? What vile feat! Such a revolting scheme. He couldn't exactly deny it wasn't working though.

"WHAT!?" Yuuki shrieked in anger, which elicited a yelp from chubby, who was still under the intense scrutiny of her gun. "You point your guns at someone you've practically run over on your car?! What were you trying to do? Finish him off?"

"It was an accident," the deprived squeaked timidly.

"And you!" Yuuki glared at the Knight. "Where the hell do you think you're staring at?"

The Knight did not look away. Knight's honor be damned, he could count the number of times a beautiful naked woman inexplicably hadn't tried to rip his guts out in a single hand. And quite honestly, the deprived woman looked like she had no qualms on showing off her ridiculous curves.

"Takagi, we need to move," Spiky ground out. "They will be coming soon."

The Knight's instinct told him that something was coming, but he couldn't discern what. But in light to what Spiky mentioned, they, which he'd conclude as hollows by the process of elimination, wouldn't be coming at all, for they, are kissing the pavement in the wake of his greatsword. But he wasn't dumb enough to mention that out loud. Better for them to think that they had little time left on their hands. Nonetheless, there wasn't really anything he could do at the moment.

"Parley," he voiced out, finally looking away from the deprived, and before Pinky could once again deny him, stated out loud. "Let Yuuki go and you can have my life."

This surprised the group of oddities and he took the opportunity to grip the hilt of his blade with both hands. Jokes on them though. You can't kill someone who's already dead.

"Stop that you idiot," shouted Pinky once more, placing her hands on her hips. "If you move it anymore, the car might explode and kill us all."

"…"

This was actually good news, considering the fact that Pinky was dumb enough, or plain arrogant to slip this vital piece of information through. Slapping her hands on her mouth in that very instance pretty much confirmed that the tables had turned.

"Now," the Knight smirked. "Let's see what we can do with that parley."

Everyone's eyes widen at the proclamation, not that the Knight blame them for not expecting this revelation. Tides always turned at the most unpredictable times. Spoken from experience, as sometimes he would find himself before a boss, poised to deliver the final strike, only to die from being too greedy. He actually couldn't remember the number of times he'd died that way. Only that he was wearing the armor of someone who gave him more agony than most of Lordran combined.

"You wouldn't dare," Pinky growled. "No one's that big of an idiot."

"You ought to have taken heed of my advice," he said impassively. "Observing that you have already noticed the change in power play, I advise you to tread lightly."

"And take the advice this time," he added.

"Why you…" Pinky glared furiously, but was stopped by Spiky from going berserk.

He stopped the raging girl with one hand and held his gun aloft in his other hand. "Let's forget this ever happened and go our separate ways."

"Takashi…" Pinky protested but was again silenced by his hand.

"We can't waste any more time," he said. "It's already dark and we need to get going as soon as possible, before they come back."

Spiky was a sensible guy, the Knight mildly noted, for his mind was more preoccupied by the prospect of learning a new gesture. One which he would frequently use in the days to come. Gloriously dubbed 'Talk to the hand'.

"Truce," the Knight said yet again, this time without the contempt. "There is no need for further bloodshed."

Everyone seem to take a breath of relief at the prospect of not killing each other. Only, the Knight didn't feel any relief whatsoever, for now that the immediate danger was averted, the prickling feeling of uncertainty which remained at the back of his mind came forth with full force. Something wasn't right here. This feeling was familiar, yet he couldn't put his mind to it. He felt it in his pilgrimage over Lordran. This feeling was the one he felt when an uninvited guest came to play, and the meaning of the word 'play' in a land such as Lordran was so very apparent.

"Fuck…"

The one word curse was the only thing he had the time to mutter before something slammed onto his breastplate. Something he needn't think too much to figure out, for he was the victim of this pain every single time he visited Anor Londo.

EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME.

The Dragonslayer arrow struck him with the force to knock him several feet away, ultimately losing his hold over his beloved sword. He dimly heard Yuuki screaming his savior's name and a lot of shuffling. Fortunately, the arrow didn't penetrate his armor, just broke a few ribs with its insane force.

Ignoring his pleading chest, he dove for cover and vomited blood only when it was clear that he was completely out of the line of fire. His newly made cohorts seem to have done the same. Spiky seemed to have grabbed Pinky and Rei and ducked behind the car. Similarly, the deprived was hiding behind an alley opposite to him with what looked like a child and Yuuki, whereas Purple and Chubby were right beside him, gawking at his heaving chest with concern.

"You okay?" Chubby questioned, grabbing hold of the Knight's shoulder to steady him.

"Fine," the Knight muttered and stood up straight, eyeing the dagger strapped to the plump boy's vest.

"What do you think that was, Hirano?" Purple asked, which inexplicably drew the Knight's attention.

Previously, he did not have time nor was the situation favorable to get a good look at Purple. But now, he observed. And she was wearing an apron. And that was as far as his observation of her clothing went apparently, for there was nothing else to consider, literally. Not that he was complaining or anything. Purple was beautiful in her own rights.

"Like what you see?" she teased, to which he ignored her with his observation uninterrupted.

His knight honor would usually guilt trip him into looking away, but she was obviously a deprived as well, and one knew not to give a flying fuck when encountering a deprived when said particular individual didn't give one themselves. Two beautiful deprived women in one day, excluding the fiasco with Yuuki. Yet he dare not consider himself lucky, for luck was just foreshadowing for your ultimate demise. But, the non-responsive surveillance did result in Purple flushing in embarrassment.

"It looks like a harpoon or some kind of…"

Ah, noobs. Seriously, who'd give a history lesson while fighting an Invader? It was kill or be killed. Of course, getting distracted by visual pleasures was a rather noob move too, but he was the Dark Lord. None can lay claim to that.

Wordlessly, he grabbed Chubby's dagger which was previously ignored for various reasons, and eyed it cynically. It had a strange shape, but looked sharp nonetheless. Most of the daggers he'd have to work with were pitifully dull, but this one looked in the state of its prime, and he loved a good blade, no matter what type it was.

"Hey, that's my combat knife," Chubby protested.

The Knight gave him an impassive once over and eyed the blade again. "I like your knife, I'm keeping it."

Leaving Chubby whining/sulking and Purple blushing/fidgeting, the Knight stepped out of his cover and gave an excruciatingly maddening 'Well, what is it' gesture at his unknown assailant. No shot was loosed, which cemented the fact that he was dealing with an invader rather than a Silver Knight. Confusing that he didn't get any kind of warning when the Invader invaded. He would usually get a much unblemished message on his head, telling him to kill the unwelcomed bastard. But taking into consideration that he would usually have a plausible weapon on his hands by now, he wasn't surprise beside the initial shot the Invader fired.

Throwing caution to the wind, the Knight dashed towards his assailant, rolling like a pro towards cover every time he ran out of stamina. The lack of arrows being fired at him only made it apparent, this was the kind of Invader he hated the most.

Obviously, he didn't discriminate any covenants, nor was he bias about his opponents. Dark Wraiths, Sunlight warriors, Chaos Servants? Who even cared which faction the Invaders belonged to? The fact that they were there meant they had to go, and nobody had the luxury to say no. He also didn't have anything against archers, sorcerers or pyromancers for that matter. Yet he hated the kind of Invader he was facing currently, for there was nothing more infuriating than facing a camper. Every single covenants had one of those cowards who'd use the Ring of Fogs and hide is some corner waiting for their prey to come forever. Those disgraceful oafs who thought shooting someone in the face with a Dragonslayer arrow at point blank range was a funny thing. Time was nothing to an Undead. Campers actually made that evident, but he'd take this one from their books and kill Invader with patience.

Fortunately for the Knight, the laidback Camper seem loved to take his sweet time targeting unsuspecting targets. Namely, almost all of the people he just left behind, coupled with the darkness of the night, he was practically invisible, even without the Ring of Fogs. He snuck behind the clearly naïve newbie, who should have bolted the minute he fired the shot, and backstabbed the poor chap into oblivion.

The Knight was primarily a strength build, with average stats on everything else and seriously, what kind of imprudent idiot uses a gigantic Greatshield without being a strength build. So a two-handed backstab, with a particularly amusing twist of the wrist made the Camper scream in anguish. Invaders usually didn't scream in pain, but this one was obviously a noob who didn't think of a surprise backstab and suffered appropriately. When the Invader started to disappear, he gave a 'Proper bow' to commiserate their brief battle. Only, he turned around before doing so, which inexplicably meant 'Kiss my ass before you die'. In his defense, the Invader deserved it.

Though, it was rather odd that he didn't get any form of reward like he usually did, but didn't think too much on the matter as the trespasser had quite mysteriously left behind his Dragonslayer bow and arrows. But that didn't mean it was amusing, as there were only six arrows in total. An archer who relied on six measly arrows to take down nine people. Either he was very efficient in double kills or he was plain stupid.

Be that as it may, the Knight couldn't take the bow with him as he had no way to unequip the giant bow and taking it along on his back would be impossible without the weight of the damn weapon, along with his sword and shield, completely encumbering his movements like bonding session with the godforsaken Havel's set. Still, he killed an Invader with a lone foreign knife. Granted that the invader was noticeably in every sense of the word stupid, it is to be considered a fine accomplishment, bearing in mind that such triumph came too few and far between.

The Knight jovially strolled back, recollecting the thrill of his handicapped victory, only to run into his band of colorful and deprived youths halfway to his sword. Correction. He literally collided with the blond woman, which left both Knight and Deprived tangled in an undignified heap. His head was all but submerged between her enormous chests, which actually made the Dark Lord glad he didn't have his helm on. The collision resulted in a rather awkward atmosphere, which was only accentuated by the woman falling unconscious. Nevertheless, far more pressing, besides the already favorable pressing, matters had to be acknowledged.

"They're right behind us," Spiky harshly whispered and grabbed the Knight's arm. "Come on, let's move."

And just as Spiky noted, a large horde of hollows made their presence known under the light of the blessed streetlamps and the Knight didn't value his weapons as much as his life. That was the understatement of the century, but he couldn't do much with a lone dagger, and much as it pained him, his knight honor told him that these people needed him more than he needed his weapons. Hastily, before the Chosen Undead part of his mind could protest about the sack of shit held inside his honor's words, he slung the unconscious blond on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and dashed towards the direction in opposed to the building mass of hollows. He would suffer the consequences for helping strangers at a later date as he always did, or the strangers would.

In fact, was there ever a moment where helping strangers didn't opened the door to said stranger's own demise? Oscar helped him instead of the other way around. It certainly did NOT in any way result in his immediate death 2 seconds later.

In fact, there are people who survived after helping him. Witch Beatrice, her corpse suddenly showing up at the Valley of the Drakes after she helped him take down the Four Kings IS just a mere coincidence, right?

Iron Tarkus, he died at the hands of the Painting Guardians in Anor Londo, probably. It unquestionably did NOT have anything to do with him helping the Knight against the Iron Golem just an hour earlier. The weak looking pathetic Painting Guardians could certainly take down the monster known as Black Iron Tarkus. Just because Tarkus can singlehandedly flip over Iron Golems with his giant sword does NOT mean he's invincible. The Painting Guardians could certainly take him down if they put their back into it and got very, very, very insanely lucky, right?

Okay, the Knight wasn't gonna think any more on the subject. He was however, going to observe his new friends with new found vigor. It was of course for NOTHING more than jolly cooperation purposes. It wasn't like they were potential corpses to loot. God! He was starting to think like Patches.

"Over here," Pinky directed to a large building. "We'll be safe in the Mall."

"Um, Miss Takagi, won't there be a lot of them in the Mall?" Chubby questioned.

"It's under construction idiot," she reprimanded. "It was supposed to be opened next week."

Chubby nodded in practiced ease, as if it was some sort of habit.

"Oscar," Yuuki matched her steps with the Knight. "Are you injured? You said you got hit by their car."

Everyone lowered their heads in shame, and seem to lower their further at the Knight's lack of response.

"I managed."

Spiky suddenly stopped in his tracks, which had the immediate reaction of everyone safe for Yuuki and the Knight doing the same. He turned to said Knight with a grimace.

"You were bitten, weren't you?" he asked in wryness.

The Knight read the message loud and clear, but he observed everyone to better weigh the pros and cons of his answer. Pinky actually looked sad, which was too surprising to give any thought. Purple was putting up a façade, which worked wonders on the others. However, he was perspective of body language rather than facial features, a common occupational hazard for all undead. Dismissing the apron wearing deprived who was two seconds away from making love to her stick, he eyed Chubby for nanosecond before dismissing him too. It didn't take a scholar to figure out that the plump boy followed Pinky like a godforsaken Black Knight. Yuuki was flabbergasted and probably trying to figure out what to do whereas Rei just hugged the little child in her arms. Of course, the Knight observed them all at the same time. He came form Lordran for god sake! He'd be hollow if he couldn't observe multiple opponents at once.

"The hollow didn't penetrate my armor," he said impassively. Better to bullshit your way out of any problem. It wouldn't be prudent to tell everyone how humanity rich he was. Friends kill each other for even a drop of the Dark Soul, and having 46 humanity sprites would unquestionably make him a wanted man.

Everyone sighed in relief, as if a great burden had been lifted from their shoulders. He'd be lying if he said it didn't feel good. People having genuine concern for him were…

Okay, so none of his previous friends had any genuine concern over him, Solaire didn't count. Oh well, they were all dead now. Nothing can be done about that, but he would probably feel bad if these people, who he was just about to kill a few moments ago, died. Was something like that even possible?

Of course not! And Gwynevere's illusion receiving a Dragonslayer arrow to the face was proof that the Chosen Undead wasn't someone to be manipulated. That didn't stop him from actually feeling happy about the prospect of people truly caring for him, and the fact that shooting someone in the face with a Dragonslayer arrow was actually amusing.

But all the petty squabbles aside, what unholy sprit possessed him to follow someone other than himself, and a Pink haired half deprived no less.

The Mall as they called it, wasn't unpopulated in the least. It seemed like some hundred people thought it was a safe place and took refuge there. They barricaded all the exits, which wasn't exactly a good thing to do since hollows didn't have the right minds to open an unlocked door. In the end, their walls became their cages and none survived. Of course, they entered through an alternate route, one which was relatively unsuspicious.

In came Yuuki and her Master Key and the Knight remember that some doors are never meant to be opened. He realized that too late.

With all the doors barricaded and the previously made entrance inaccessible, plus the fact that the group split somewhere, the only way to go was up and that was how he found himself in the precarious position of deciding to just jump and die, or be devoured and die.

"…this is gonna hurt, A LOT."

And very, very fortunately, there was a car there to break his landing. He landed in a crouch, crushing the contraption and talking the brunt of the damage by being smart for once in his life and not rolling forward. He dimly registered the voice of Chubby calling him cool and realized that the separated group were right beside him. Next time, because it was known knowledge that painful experiences always had the habit of repeating, next time he was gonna look down before jumping off a building, lest someone squishy be under him.

A few seconds later he registered pain and his knees buckled. He didn't cry in pain for it was nothing he hadn't experienced before, but he did marvel at his survival. How fortunate for the car to be where it was to barely break his fall. Barely being the understatement as surviving by a couple of hit points wasn't something to be taken lightly. Right now, a hamster could kill him.

"That was crazy," Spiky reprimanded and proceeded to take the stuttering mess of a girl from his arms. Purple and Rei did the same with the blonde.

"Are you okay?" Yuuki asked, probably the only one to actually care about him and tried to help him up.

Though her sentiments were much appreciated, he couldn't really say or do anything let alone stand right now. His legs were toasted and his ears were still ringing from the shrilling screams he had to hear. Coupled with the fact that he was a touch away from death, he desperately needed a drink.

"Is that beer?" Chubby asked as he took out his Estus flask. A question he didn't deign to answer as he took three large gulps of the contents and felt his strength return.

"So Badass!"

Though the word of admiration felt good, the Knight really wished it was someone other than Chubby, who of this moment looked like he was about to kiss his gauntlets.

"Are you American? Is that real armor? Where did you get your training?" Chubby looked with sparkles in his eyes.

Unnerving as it was, the Knight decided to answer. "No. Yes. The one where they throw you in an asylum and tell you to survive."

The last one was sort of a joke but by the looks of thing, Chubby took is seriously.

"What's that smell?" Yuuki asked, cringing and covering her nose. The Knight too noticed the smell and it wasn't soothing to find that he was the cause of it. He touched his wet back and observed the fluid on his hand.

"Sorry," the blonde deprived spoke up. "I had a little too much to drink."

Everyone winched and looked at him in pity. It certainly wasn't the worst he had but the situation did remind him of one such time where he was covered in blood and piss and was ever fucking constantly falling. Spiky held his shoulder and gave a look of understanding.

He doubted anyone did.

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