The ashen field stretched endlessly around you, littered with the remnants of countless battles—broken blades, splintered shields, and faded banners buried in the dust. The air was heavy with ash and the metallic tang of ancient, burned remains. Overhead, the eclipse blazed, its crimson beam casting a harsh, awe-inspiring glow across the desolation.

You stopped, breath caught in your chest, as the ground trembled faintly beneath your boots. In the distance, among the broken swords and dying embers, a figure knelt, its armour blackened and charred like the land itself.

Even from here, you could see its towering height. Its body was lean and unnatural, limbs elongated and poised—an amalgamation of fire and steel. It knelt in eerie stillness, head bowed before the faint flicker of the First Flame.

Then, with startling speed, it stirred. The motion was unnervingly deliberate as it rose to its full, gargantuan height. Embers rained from its jagged, glowing crown, and strips of smouldering fabric clung to its blackened frame like the last remnants of an extinguished banner.

The Soul of Cinder tilted its helm toward you, its presence staggering and overpowering, as though the heat of the First Flame bore down on your very soul. Its looming form was a shadow that seemed to swallow you whole.

Without a sound, it reached for the Firelink Great Sword embedded in the ash at its feet, tearing the weapon free in one fluid motion. A brilliant surge of flame erupted along the length of the sword, imbuing the blade with its radiance.

There was no hesitation. The Soul of Cinder’s movements were as fluid as they were unrelenting. With just a few steps, it closed the distance between you in an instant, the blade arcing toward you with terrifying precision.

The First Flame demanded a final test.

And the Soul of Cinder answered.