Marvelous Shop Omake Written By Iceless

Every day he woke up and looked in the mirror, he was filled with a sense of disgust.

He hated him. That bloated fat fuck. Someone who wasn’t willing to put in the effort to better himself. Even now, he was going to try to take a shortcut.

What Ned knew was games. He had been playing them all his life. So when he heard about this shop. What it can do, he knew he had to go.

There were other worlds he could go to. Ones that would give him better rewards, make him stronger for less work. One’s where if he played his cards right, he could come out super strong and be able to throw fireballs everywhere.

But that wasn’t what this was about.

This wasn’t about learning magic, becoming god-emperor, or anything else equally as stupid.

He’s going to get buff and get a girlfriend.

Dark Souls was the path to one of those, at least.

A body was tossed down to him, making him jump slightly. He gave a nod to Oscar, snatching the key and unlocking the door to his cell.

He didn’t have armor, the only thing that gave him some sort of protection was his hoodie. He knew he couldn’t wear armor. If he was going to do this, it needed to be done flawlessly. He probably couldn’t run 10 steps without needing to rest in the heavy metal armor. If the Asylum Demon hits him, he is dead, and he can’t stand pain.

Brandishing his knife, he repeatedly stabbed the first hollow, a sense of relief overtaking him as it didn’t fight back. He did this for the many for going insane in this place.

‘They are not real.’ He thought, the mantra giving him some level of comfort as he went through the denizens of the asylum.

They were insane. Designed to be insane. And if they weren’t, he was putting them out of their misery. 

It was the right thing to do.

After he stabbed his 40th or so hollow, he couldn’t help but feel the hole in his chest.

Because he had played Dark Souls before coming here. He had run through the route to Firelink over a dozen times in preparation.

It wasn’t the same. There were more of them. The asylum was obviously much bigger, and by now, his knife was starting to dull.

He didn’t know what it meant, but he assumed the worst. More enemies? Are there new enemies? Late game enemies? Does Asylum Demon know more attacks?

…Would he even be able to level up at the bonfire?

Turning a corner at the end of the hall, he let out a breath of relief when he saw the bonfire. Another wave of relief hit him as the bonfire worked its magic as soon as he touched it.

In the Ash, he saw his stats laid out before him, his eyes zooming in on two in particular.

Vitality: 8
Attunement: 15
Endurance: 8
Strength: 9
Dexterity: 9
Resistance: 8
Intelligence: 16

Faith: 8

He knew he was a smart enough guy, but the Attunement stat was giving him pause. Attunement was for magic-classed builds. The higher it is, the more spells you could use at once.

Thinking about it a bit more, he couldn’t help but notice how similar his build looked compared to the starting Sorcerer build. 

He started thinking about how easier a time it would be to beat Dark Souls if he stuck with magic, but with a snap, he burnt that thought away.

He poured all his souls into strength, the 9 in the ash turned to a 10, and the difference was staggering.

He punched the air, and it felt different. The punch didn’t feel quicker, but it felt more…powerful. 

He was a small thing. He was only slightly stronger than before.

But already?

He felt leagues stronger compared to how he felt five minutes ago.

With a grin on his face, he headed off to get more souls.

He wasn’t nearly as strong as he wanted to be.

Not yet.

-Line Break-

They didn’t respawn.

He thought they would. Hoped they would.

If they did, he wouldn’t have left the Asylum. He would grind for days. Weeks even. He could come back for food, sleep, and school, then go straight back to the grind.

So he did the only thing he could do.

Press forward.

-Line Break-

He didn’t want to fight the demon. Not yet. His knife was getting duller, but it was much better than the broken sword he found earlier.

Killing all those hollows got him thinking. He didn’t have to take out the demon, not on the first encounter.

Sure, he wouldn’t get his weapon, but he doubted he’d be able to lift the damn thing in the first place. 

He didn’t have to do this damageless, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to treat it like it wasn’t.

He needed to find Oscar, swipe his Estus flask, and then he would be able to take a few hits.

Hopefully, it won’t just heal the body, but the pain as well.

He tried to be sneaky. He avoided the open courtyard like the plague as he saddled off to the side, tiptoeing his way to the only exit-

Only for the demon to come crashing down anyways, announcing himself with a roar.

He ran.

He didn’t look back. He refused to. The last thing he wanted to do was freeze up in fear and have this chance go.

Didn’t stop him from having a small panic attack a few minutes later, knowing he was safe for now but eventually? 

He would need to kill that thing. 

-Line Break-

They were starting to put up a fight. 

It was small things. Some were coming at him with a sword, swinging slowly and missing wildly.

The same could be said for the archers. They couldn’t shoot straight for the life of them, often missing entirely. But the times they got close? 

It terrified him.

As he came across a flight of stairs, he baited the trap that was set for him, and let the boulder go straight past him, crashing into the wall to his right and opening up a hole. Ignoring it for now, he dealt with a few of the hollows at the top of the stairway and took a small break.

He was…much faster than the Hollows. Their reactions were delayed; if they acted like normal people with swords, he wouldn’t know what to do. None of them were even trying to just stab him, mostly just taking a wild swing and being surprised when the sword hits the wall. 

The knife was all he needed against these guys. 

-Line Break-

“You’re the one? Out of all the people that managed to not go hollow, you’re the one that got this far?”

“You are…not Undead?” He questioned slowly, hackles raising. “But that’s impossible! How are you even-” he coughed, a wheeze leaving him as he held his hand to his chest.

Quickly, he moved to his side, quickly tossing away the loose debris covering him before a firm grip stopped him in his place.

“Don’t bother, I’ll be dead soon enough.”

“You don’t have to die here,” Ned pressed. “We can escape here together! Firelink Shrine is-”

“A pointless goal for me,” he coughed once more. “I’ve failed. I had one duty: to free an Undead from this Asylum. Why? Why is it that the one person who I have saved has retained their humanity?”

“But you are also trapped here,” Ned snapped, “Is freeing yourself not enough?”

“You don’t understand,” he growled. “The Chosen Undead. He was supposed to change the fate of the Undead. That person is not me. It all means nothing now. The bells, the prophecy- it’s all…worthless.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Do not speak like you know anything!” he snapped, another set of coughs leaving him. “It cannot be me. I will be Hollow soon, a burden. There is no hope for me.”

“You are turning hollow,” Ned realized, frustration tinting his voice. “You are giving up then? When you are so close to the finish line?!”

“I have been here longer than you have been alive!” He barked. “There is no finish line! Not anymore.”

An Undead stays an Undead as long as they keep their purpose. If they lose it, they go hollow. Insane. Unable to think rationally.

But he could recognize a losing battle. 

He took in a breath, taking a seat, next to him.

“What are you doing?”

“If you are going to die, then you shouldn’t die alone.”

“Haa,” he breathed. “A wasted gesture on a wasted knight…You have my thanks.”

Oscar went into another coughing fit, and reached for the Estus Flask. For a moment, Ned thought his words had gotten through to him. Sadly, he was proven wrong.

“You are not who I wanted to save,” Oscar admitted. “But I do not hope you die here. Take this,” he said, handing him the Estus Flask. “It will heal you when hurt. If you wish to leave, you must kill the guard. The demon, it’s…strong. Much stronger than the both of us. If you want a chance at even hurting it, you must drink from it after getting hit. I did not save you just so you would die.”

One final breath left Oscar.

“Leave that to me.”

And Oscar was no more.

-Line Break-

It took him longer than he wanted to clear out all the enemies. By the third or so hour, all that remained was the demon.

Well, all the enemies he was willing to fight. In one of the pathways, he saw a Black Knight in the corner of his eye, and he never tucked tail and ran as quickly in his life.

He was also very happy to find out that the Estus Flask worked, despite being undead. But now it meant he had an even smaller chance of taking out the demon.

The words Oscar said had gotten to him. That it was much stronger than both himself and Oscar. It got him thinking.

If this world isn’t like the game, why would a demon, (one of the strongest enemies in Dark Souls lore), be the weakest boss to kill?

So he scrounged up all the important items he could find and started theory crafting. He wanted to take out the demon, but the last thing he wanted to do was get up close and personal. Originally, that was the plan, and jumping on him was going to dock a lot of his health away, but it wasn’t a guarantee.

Magic was a bust. He tried swinging an old Catalyst around and he couldn’t even get sparks. Nothing around on Pyromancy either. 

He had tried using one of the bows, even tested shooting a few straight shots and had some confidence he could hit it enough times that it would die.

Then he realized there was nothing stopping the demon from swiping his club and bringing down the floor.

He paused for a moment, an idea coming to mind as he looked at his equipment. 

He was able to pick up some of the starter items that each class gets. However, none were as important as the firebombs.

But they weren’t strong enough. Not as strong as he wanted them to be. If the demon is stronger, like he suspects it is.

He needed to be more crafty.

-Line Break-

He had always liked traversing the dark web. 

It was something that made him feel cool. Finding out about people, conspiracies, history best left forgotten. It was something that always interested him.

One day, he remembered looking into something he should never have.

But now it was paying off.

The firebombs were decent. Not especially good material, but they would get the job done. But there were ways to improve it. Make it even stronger.

The first thing he gathered was the resin. Easy to find, hard to remove. He scraped off what he could. He didn’t stop there, taking a couple of the bombs and combining them into one. 

He put together all he could while he had the time to. Nails and other iron fragments would help work more like a grenade rather than a molotov cocktail. Sulfur, Saltpeter- whatever he could scrounge together, he put them in the bombs.

And a few hours later, he was finally ready.

By now, he was starving. Sweat glistened off his skin, his shirt was damp, and even after taking a bit of a rest, he was still haggard. 

But he needed to do this. Because if he didn’t do this here and now?

He never would.

He waited a few moments, feeling the ground rumble with each step the demon took. It had to be perfect. If he wasn’t, he’d fail. If this didn’t go right here and now, he was leaving.

But in the end, his patience paid off.

The demon was in the exact spot it needed to be.

He stood up, took aim-

And froze.

As soon as he got out of cover The Asylum Demon’s gaze caught his own. For that split second, Ned felt his fear reach a new height, as if the end of the world was coming to him.

And then it disappeared, time coming to a crawl, as his instincts took over. Throwing the large bomb at the demon.

“Pick a god and pray!”

Except the bomb didn’t land on the demon. But that wasn’t Ned’s goal.

It was the floor. The very unstable floor.

“Yes!” He roared, watching the floor implode in itself, the demon quickly falling down onto the floor below.

This wasn’t his first plan. He had mapped out his route and strategy, playing endlessly until he could consistently get through the game without taking a single hit. 

He planned on killing the Asylum Demon, get to Firelink, and get the hell out of here.

That was when he found out this world isn’t like the game. It’s close, there are similarities, but it’s not one-to-one.

But he didn’t know he could feel any happier, be more joyful, that there was at least some consistency.

Because the Stray Demon was still here. 

And the Asylum Demon just landed on top of it.

At first, the Asylum demon’s focus was still on Ned, lightning crackled on the tip of its staff, ready to launch an attack.

Only to be interrupted by the Stray Demon, who slammed its staff into the Asylum Demon, making him crash into the wall behind him.

The demons let out a shout of challenge, fire dancing at the tip of their staves as a battle between demons broke out.

There would only be one winner of this battle.

And Ned didn’t plan on either of them coming out alive.

-Line Break-

The Stray won the battle.

The Asylum demon was strong. Definitely not to the standards of a first boss. He was able to take blow after blow from the Stray, but at the end of the day, the Stray was stronger.

But it was on its last legs, and it didn’t know he was there.

He started to throw his bombs. Stray let out a roar, flinching as more of the bombs hit him, but it wasn’t enough. 

Slowly, the demon started to rise. Trying to get closer to Ned, all the while Ned continued to pepper him with firebombs. Right until he was all out.

Tightly gripping his knife, he threw away all his fear, and did something he didn’t want to do.

He leaped, landing directly on top of the demon.

And started stabbing.

As soon as he put a knife through the demon’s eye, it immediately stopped flying, dropping back down to the floor below and letting out another scream.

Ned didn’t stop.

Continuing to stab through the eyes, desperately hoping it would die.

It didn’t.

The demon grabbed him, launching him into the wall, making him immediately cough blood on impact. The pain was unbearable, it made him scream, it made him howl, but he had one saving grace.

Hurriedly, he drank from the estus flask, the pain immediately boiling down, but it wasn’t enough.

The pain didn’t stop until he emptied the bottle.

He scrambled to his feet, knowing that if he got hit again, he was dead. 

Only for the demon to fall to the ground, lifeless to the world around him.

At first, Ned could only stare, disbelief washing off of him as he stared at the pair of dead demons. 

Then he felt the souls enter his body.

It wasn’t just all the souls the Stray Demon had. But all the souls the Asylum Demon had as well. 

“Thirty thousand souls,” he whispered, his heart racing a mile a minute as he quickly ran to the closest bonfire. 

A minute later, he saw all his stats laid out in front of him, an overwhelming sense of giddiness taking him over as he dumped nearly all of his souls into Endurance & Strength.

And everything started to change.

His fat became muscle, the weight of wasted flesh burning away like ash on the wind.

Long-familiar aches disappeared. His breathing came smoothly and effortlessly.

He stood taller, a few inches at most, but it was something that he noticed straight away.

But all of that? 

It paled in comparison to what was the most important change.

He had abs.

He broke out into laughter. Joy. Hope. Happiness. Other feelings that had long been buried deep inside of him started to resurface, as he admired his new body.

His eyes caught the entrance to the asylum, the double doors reminding him he wasn’t done. Not yet.

He completed Step 1 of Dark Souls, getting buff.

Now all he had to do was Step 2.

Get a girlfriend.