Naruto: The Chosen Undead-Chapter 143 - no.142 Dark Souls

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Chapter 142 The Old Blacksmith and the Young Hero

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The forge was quiet when Naruto arrived, the rhythmic clink of steel echoing faintly off the old stone walls like a lullaby for blades. Andre sat on his stool, hunched over a battered chestplate, hammer in hand. He didn't even look up as Naruto stepped into the light, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Well now, you're back again," the old blacksmith rumbled. "I heard quite the ruckus from the forest. Explosions, shockwaves... the lot of it. What in the gods' name were you doing out there, boy?"

Naruto grinned like a fox who'd just gotten away with robbing a henhouse. "Oh man, Andre, where do I even start? So I was walking through the woods, right? And then this giant butterfly starts lasering me from the sky with these magic beams."

Andre arched a brow and leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. "Aye. That'd be the Moonlight Butterfly. Majestic creature. Dangerous one, too. Few have lived to speak of it."

"Well, I didn't live. At least not the first time," Naruto said proudly. "Died once. Got better. Then I teamed up with this super cool witch named Beatrice. She had this huge hat, talked like a ghost from a storybook, and shot magic that could curve like a boomerang. We tag-teamed the butterfly!"

"Mmm. So it's gone then."

"Dust in the wind," Naruto said with a snap of his fingers. "Oh, and I found weed. Like good weed. Green Blossoms. Tastes like spicy cabbage and makes your stamina shoot through the roof."

Andre blinked slowly. "You found the stamina herb."

Naruto nodded sagely. "I'm calling it Naruto's Weed."

Andre let out a long, gravelly sigh and muttered, "Gods help us all..."

"But hey... look what I brought back."

With a dramatic flourish, Naruto pulled out a bundle wrapped in old cloth and placed it gently on the anvil. The cloth unraveled to reveal the glowing, holy flame of the Divine Ember.

Andre straightened. His face, so often cracked into smirks and half-laughed grunts, now shifted to something far more solemn. He looked down at the ember with a reverence reserved for relics, for old friends long buried.

Naruto puffed out his chest. "Pretty cool, huh?"

But Andre didn't answer right away. He closed his eyes and placed a hand over the ember. "To the one who forged in solitude... who tempered light into steel and never asked for thanks... I swear it. Your flame lives on through me. I'll use it well, my brother."

Naruto bowed his head respectfully, mirroring Andre's silence.

Then the old blacksmith straightened, heavy shoulders rolling with quiet strength. "With this fine ember... aye, you're one step closer to a divine weapon."

Naruto's smile faltered. "Wait! One step? That wasn't it?"

"Hah hah. No, not quite. You've got the ember, lad, but now you need to reinforce a weapon to +5 first. Then, using this ember, we can ascend it into something blessed. Takes a special ore, too."

Naruto stared at him, slack-jawed. "You mean I went through all that for a step?"

"That's the nature of Lordran," Andre said with a shrug. "It offers power... but it don't come cheap."

Naruto groaned. "Of course it doesn't. Why would anything be easy around here?"

"Was it ever?" Andre asked with a knowing grin.

"...No," Naruto admitted with a sigh. "Alright, fine. I've got the soul of that butterfly thing. And... one other. Can you do something with it?"

Andre winced. "Ahh. No can do. That's not my craft. To forge a weapon from a soul, you'll need a blacksmith who served under the nameless smithing god himself. Someone who remembers the old rites. I'm no good with those."

Naruto gave the biggest sigh ever, looking down at his feet. Still gained a lot from this adventure, though.

Suddenly, the sound of metal clinking echoed through the forge as Andre pulled a worn sack from the back of his bench and dropped it onto the anvil. It opened with a dusty thud, revealing a pile of Titanite Shards—dozens of them, gleaming faintly in the firelight.

Naruto blinked. "What's all this?"

"Well, seeing how hard you've worked... and knowing your goals..." Andre said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I may not be able to give you a divine weapon yet, but I reckon a properly reinforced Zweihander will do just fine."

Naruto's eyes lit up. "Wait, really?"

"A knight needs a sharp blade," Andre said simply. "Let's make sure yours won't break when you swing it."

Naruto launched forward, wrapping the old blacksmith in a hug that knocked a puff of air from Andre's lungs. "You're the best, old man!"

Andre grunted, patting his back. "Let me go, boy. I've work to do."

Naruto placed the heavy Zweihander on the anvil with a soft clunk, stepping back as the old blacksmith cracked his knuckles and reached for his hammer.

Andre gave the greatsword a once-over. "Mmm. She's seen plenty of blood, that one. A fine blade, but still has room to grow."

As the first echoing strike rang through the chamber, Naruto leaned casually and watched as sparks danced with every hit, but curiosity soon got the better of him.

"Hey, Andre?" he asked, tilting his head. "How're you gonna use that Divine Ember? I mean... it's just a small ember, right?"

Andre didn't look up, continuing to etch the glowing Titanite into the blade's grooves with practiced ease. "An ember can make a fire," he said simply, voice gravelly and calm.

Naruto scratched the side of his cheek. "Okay, but like... what feeds it? You gonna throw in some wood or coal?"

Andre chuckled softly. "Souls, boy."

Naruto blinked.

...Of course it's souls. He exhaled through his nose and turned away to give the man space, summoning shadow clones in the empty church—each already flickering through one-handed hand seals with fluid, focused precision. They'd continue training, as Naruto was determined to perfect one-handed ninjutsu before returning home.

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A few hours had passed.

The forge glowed hot with emberlight, and the constant ring of metal on metal echoed through the ancient stone halls like a heartbeat. The scent of iron and oil clung to the air—punctuated now by something new: a faint, almost peppery-green aroma that wafted toward the forge. Andre paused mid-swing, setting his hammer aside as he wiped the sweat from his brow with a heavy forearm. He glanced across the room, toward a quieter corner near the crumbled archway where, slouched at the edge of the forge's reach, Naruto sat beside a makeshift little brazier he'd assembled from broken bricks and bits of scrap metal.

A small curl of greenish smoke floated from the improvised burner, its plume wafting lazily toward the ceiling.

Naruto sat cross-legged, exhausted, breathing in the slow draw of burning Green Blossom weed. His chakra swirled visibly around him, soft and rich with energy—his usual chaos of wild coils now tamed and rhythmic.

Andre watched him for a moment, his weathered face unreadable. Then: "So. What's your plan forward then?"

Naruto let out a long breath, eyes still half-lidded from exertion, but a smirk curled at the edge of his lips. "Well," he said slowly, stretching an arm behind his back, "for starters... you can teach me that taijutsu you used against the Titanite Demon."

Andre leaned back, chuckling. "Hah! You noticed that, did you?"

"I noticed you dodging lightning," Naruto said, grinning wider now. "You gonna teach me, or do I gotta steal your moves the hard way?"

Andre gave a gravelly laugh, stepping around the anvil and lowering himself onto the bench beside the bellows. "That'd be the Astoran Boxing Arts, lad. Old, refined, meant to crack armor with bare knuckles and break beasts with a stance as solid as steel. Not just fists—willpower." He looked Naruto in the eye. "You still want it?"

Naruto met his gaze evenly. "You know what I'm fighting for. I don't care if it's kicks, swords, or songs—I'll take whatever tools I can get."

"Hmph." Andre nodded, satisfied. "Good answer."

Naruto laughed, but then his tone grew serious. "And... I want to find someone to teach me magic. Real magic."

Andre raised a brow. "But you're a knight."

"Ugh, not this again..."

Andre's shoulders shook with a laugh as he returned to the blade. "Alright, alright. Can't blame a lad for wantin' to do it all." He paused. "Actually... I might know a fella."

Naruto perked up immediately. "Yeah?"

"Aye. Dear friend of mine. Name's Rickert of Vinheim."

"Where is he now?"

"Last I heard," Andre muttered, frowning as he recalled, "he went to have a look around the New Londo Ruins."

"...The what?"

Andre glanced over. "Underground city. Deep beneath Firelink Shrine."

Naruto's jaw dropped. "There's a whole city under Firelink Shrine and no one mentioned this?!"

Andre shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Aye. Ruined, haunted, flooded, cursed. The usual."

Naruto groaned. "So I have to walk all the way back to Firelink Shrine?! That's gonna take forever!"

Andre smirked knowingly. "Not if you use the elevator."

"...Eh?"

"The lift in the old church. Hidden platform near the bonfire room. Brings you right down to Firelink."

Naruto stared at him, stunned.

Andre grinned. "Gotta learn to explore, brat."

Naruto shook his head. "This place is insane. Absolute lunacy. I bet next you'll say there's an ancient mushroom kingdom in Lordran."

Andre's expression didn't change. "...I mean..."

"No. Nope. Don't even finish that sentence."

The two shared a laugh which echoed warmly through the chamber. Andre wiped the final sheen of oil across the newly forged Zweihander, now reinforced to +5. The blade no longer bore the grey steel look it once had. No—now it was beautiful and terrible. A deep, obsidian black, its surface rippling with faint traces of etched lines, like veins.

Naruto reached out, fingers brushing the hilt.

The moment he gripped it—he felt it.

A thrum of raw danger. Like the blade itself was holding its breath, waiting for the chance to strike. His skin tingled. His chakra coiled. Something in the sword recognized him.

Naruto didn't say a word.

Instead, he turned and walked toward the wide chamber where dozens of his shadow clones trained in synchronized sequences, perfecting one-handed hand signs in staggered silence.

With one casual step, he raised the Zweihander in a slow, testing arc.

And then he swung.

The air itself shattered.

The force of the swing was a tidal wave of compressed pressure, part shockwave, part gravity distortion. Wind screamed in its wake, kicking up dust, sparks, and fragments of stone from the floor. The arc of power rippled outward, slamming into his clones like an invisible storm. Half of them exploded instantly, popping like glass bubbles. The rest were thrown dozens of feet, their bodies crashing into walls and scattering like leaves caught in a hurricane.

The stone beneath Naruto's feet groaned. A shallow groove cut clean across the floor, carved effortlessly into the ancient stone—the mark of a blade so heavy, it could rewrite terrain.

Naruto stared at the destruction in awe. "Whoa," he whispered, turning the blade slightly in his hand, watching how the etched runes pulsed faintly, drinking in his chakra.

Behind him, Andre crossed his arms and nodded. "There's a special quality to titanite shards and why we use 'em for reforging. They come from slabs, you see. Slabs forged by the nameless blacksmith deity himself. Each slab was etched with a kind of language—not written words, but magic. A language of force. Of shaping. Of memory."

Naruto turned toward him, still catching his breath. "The sword... felt like it pulled on me when I swung. Like it knew what I wanted."

Andre nodded. "That's the enchantment, lad. The language in titanite binds steel to the soul. Makes the blade stronger the stronger you are. And if you're clever with it... even more."

Naruto flexed his cursed arm. "Shame I can't use both hands to max out the strength. This sword was made to be used with two."

Andre rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well," he said slowly, "I might have a solution."

Naruto looked up, curious.

"In Astora, some knights lost limbs fightin' beasts that didn't leave much of 'em behind. For the ones who couldn't heal, whether by miracle or medicine, they were given prosthetic limbs."

Naruto's brow furrowed. "That... actually sounds kinda useful. But my cursed arm... it just grows back whenever I heal. I'd have to cut it off every time I wanted to use a prosthetic."

Andre gave a grunt. "Then don't use it all the time. Keep the cursed arm for your normal days. But when you need the real strength of a Zweihander? Strap on the prosthetic. Let the forge lend you the hand fate denied."

Naruto tapped his chin, nodding slowly. "Alright. Let's make one." He paused. "Oh and uh... side note."

Andre raised an eyebrow.

"Could you also make me a smoking pipe?"

The blacksmith blinked. "Why?"

Naruto grinned innocently. "For my weed."

"...Only if you share."

Naruto saluted, serious as a monk. "Half my stash." He held out a hand. "And in return, you teach me basic blacksmithing. Just the essentials—repairs, sharpening, reinforcing. In case I end up stuck somewhere without you."

Andre saw the steel in the boy's eyes, the will in his back, and gave a slow, approving nod.

"...Deal."

Their hands clasped, calloused and scarred.

The forge burned on.

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Time had lost all meaning.

Hours or was it days? blurred into one long, glowing stretch of sweat, steel, and smoke. Naruto had spent every waking moment beside Andre, learning the fundamentals of Astoran Boxing, blacksmithing basics, and sketching out the design for his prosthetic arm. When they weren't hammering metal, they were arguing over the weight balance of a pipe. When they weren't arguing, they were sparring. Naruto learning how to drive his weight into a punch, how to tighten his core, how to fight like a knight who couldn't afford to fall.

Now, the forge lay quiet.

The fire still glowed low in the distance, but its roar had dulled to a whisper. Naruto lay sprawled near the bonfire, chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm. Beside him, Andre sat propped against the stone wall, half-empty tankard in hand, his beard flecked with sweat and soot.

"Never thought I'd say this," Andre muttered, tilting the tankard back with a grunt, "but I might be gettin' too old to keep up with a brat like you."

Naruto chuckled, flicking a boneshard into the fire. "You're not that old. Just blacksmith-old."

Andre gave a grunt of amusement. "Aye. That's the worst kind."

They sat in companionable silence, the only sounds the crackle of the bonfire and the whisper of wind over the bridge leading to Sen's Fortress.

Then Naruto reached into his inventory and pulled out the Watchtower Basement Key, the cool metal gleaming faintly in the firelight.

[Item: Watchtower Basement Key]

[Description: Key to the basement of the watchtower in the Undead Burg. The basement of the watchtower forms a stone cell. There are rumors of a hero turned Hollow who was locked away by a dear friend. For his own good, of course.]

"Where did you get that key?"

Naruto nodded. "Took it from the Divine Blacksmith's workshop. He died while making this."

He turned the key over in his fingers. "Says it opens the basement of the watchtower in Undead Burg. Mentions some hero turned Hollow. Locked away by a friend."

Andre didn't respond right away. He just stared into the flames. "...There's a lotta tales in Lordran like that," the old smith said at last. "Ones where friends become jailers. Sometimes it's mercy. Sometimes it's fear. And sometimes..." He took another sip of ale. "Sometimes it's betrayal."

Naruto's brow furrowed. "You think the blacksmith was trying to free him?"

Andre shrugged. "Could be."

"What if that friend who locked him away is the same person who sent the Butterfly? Or controls the Hydra in the basin?"

Andre tilted his head back, exhaling slow. "Then that friend had a lot to protect. Or a lot to hide."

The silence between them deepened.

Eventually, Andre's tankard tipped slightly, resting against his chest as his breaths slowed. The blacksmith was asleep, the long days of labor finally catching up with him.

Naruto watched the man for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Sleep well, old man," he whispered as he headed out—up the stairwell toward the church, the flames of the bonfire warming his back.

As he reached the top of the walkway, something tugged at his senses.

The sun was shining.

He blinked up, confused. A few minutes ago, it had been night. Moonlight gleaming off moss and fog.

Now?

Clear skies. Warm daylight.

His spine stiffened. He formed a clone and sent it sprinting back toward Darkroot Garden. It vanished over the ridge. Moments later, the feedback hit him. The moon still hung over the garden. Different places. Different times.

"Darkroot Garden... and the church... are in separate time zones?" He exhaled, long and slow, as another truth settled over him—one more subtle consequence of Lordran's convoluted time. With imprisoned heroes, shattered timelines, secrets buried beneath every moss-covered stone... and him going to church.

Naruto gave a short, dry laugh.

Yeah... never a dull moment in this place.

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[ Personal Note: First off, thanks a ton to all of you for sticking with this story. Seriously, you guys are awesome. Now, if you're interested in supporting me on P@treon, let me just say that over there, I post these massive 5k-word Chapters. But heads up, if you're jumping to P@treon, you'll need to start from Chapter 67, since that's where this Chapter lines up with the content there.

To everyone here just reading along, please don't forget to leave a comment! Honestly, your comments make my day, and they let me know you're as invested in this story as I am. So yeah, thanks again, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day!