Lore.11: The God of War Buried in the Depths of History - The Truth of the Nameless King and the 'Ancient Dragon Alliance'

1. The Downfall of the Glorious “Firstborn of the Sun” and the Severance of Myth

In the twilight of a world where everything sinks into a sea of ash, the celestial sanctuary “Archdragon Peak,” severed from the oblivion of history, stands amidst mere silence and violent storms. The “Nameless King,” who lives in seclusion upon this inviolable peak, is none other than the firstborn of Lord Gwyn—the “Firstborn of the Sun” himself—whose tale was passed down since the era of the first game, only for his very existence to be erased from history.

As a verifiable fact within the game, the description of the “Ring of the Sun’s Firstborn” in the first title states: “Lord Gwyn’s firstborn was a god of war, but his foolishness led to a loss of the annals, and rescinding of his deific status. Today, even his name is not known.” Upon his banishment, the statues of him enshrined in the city of the gods, Anor Londo, were destroyed without a trace, and all remnants of his former glory were thoroughly eradicated. However, definitive proof that he once led the Great Lord’s kin as a proud god of war lives on in a fragment of the grand myth of two generations, inscribed in the miracle “Great Lightning Spear”: “The first Dragonslayer hunted dragons with the Sunlight Spear, and later, that duty was passed down to the Firstborn’s Great Spear.”

Regarding the causality of this rupture and the subtleties of emotion, the following analysis can be made. The “Age of Fire” established by Lord Gwyn was an order of light obtained by exterminating the everlasting ancient dragons, and its continuation demanded an endless stagnation known as the “Linking of the Fire,” in which life was masochistically burned away. The fact that the firstborn allied with the ancient dragons suggests that he harbored fundamental doubts about this cycle of sacrifice, finding true salvation instead in the “transcendence of time” and “silent harmony” symbolized by the everlasting ancient dragons.

This was the exercise of free will as an individual life against the fatalistic determinism that had preordained him, as a god, to be the “guardian of the fire.” Knowing full well that he would lose his honor, his faith, and even his blood family, he chose to break away from a system hurtling toward collapse. As indicated by the “Sunlight Blade” offered at the empty coffin, the final words exchanged between the estranged father and son were likely not of hatred, but of a deeply torn sorrow.

2. The Dragonslayer Swordspear and Ornstein’s “Pilgrimage of Selflessness”

The “Dragonslayer Swordspear” wielded by the Nameless King is the oldest cross spear, possessing the properties of both sword and spear, and has been held in his hands unchanged since the Age of Gods when he was the god of war. This weapon is imbued with the “power of great lightning” he inherited from Lord Gwyn, serving as proof that even though he was stripped of his deific name, he never let go of his lineage and his pride as a warrior.

This swordspear is said to have been the prototype for the cross spear used by “Dragonslayer Ornstein,” the captain of Lord Gwyn’s Four Knights. The fact that the stone statue of the firstborn left in the temple of Anor Londo bore a design identical to Ornstein’s spear speaks to the existence of a “master-disciple relationship” or a profound admiration between the two, transcending mere lord and servant.

Unraveling this relationship reveals the lore of an extremely melancholic “pilgrimage.” In the era of Dark Souls III, it is explicitly stated that Ornstein eventually abandoned his duty of guarding Anor Londo and set out on a journey. And at Archdragon Peak, the Ashen One witnesses the “Dragonslayer Set” lying emptily discarded on the ground.

The environmental storytelling—that the armor was not worn by a corpse but simply abandoned on the floor—strongly suggests that he reached his destination and finally reunited with his admired lord, the Nameless King. To master the “Path of the Dragon” and bring his own body closer to that of an everlasting dragon, Ornstein voluntarily cast off the proof of his status as a “knight of the gods” that had once bound him—namely, the iron armor meant for hunting dragons and all of his social standing. It was the end of the “pilgrimage of selflessness” of a nameless knight who followed the back of his lord—who had chosen to assimilate with their former archenemy—and sought to break free from the cycle of fate himself.

3. The “Path of the Dragon” at Archdragon Peak and the Soul Pact with the “King of the Storm”

In a world where the concept of time has collapsed, “Archdragon Peak,” floating in a sea of clouds, functions as an immutable realm completely isolated from the fleeting shifts of fire on the earth below. The environmental storytelling of this peak silently depicts the eternal quest of those drawn to the silence of the ancient dragons.

As a matter of fact, a Havel Knight—said to have once been a comrade-in-arms of Lord Gwyn before parting ways—stands motionless before the corpse of an ancient dragon on this peak, while the phantoms of seekers from different eras, such as the “Drakeblood Knight” and “Ricard,” continue to be summoned infinitely, as if drawn by the tolling of the mausoleum bell. Furthermore, the “Dragon Chaser’s Ashes” left by the cliffside symbolize the countless obsessions of Hollows who, in pursuit of eternity, rotted away while sitting in the “Path of the Dragon” gesture.

The only friend the Nameless King made upon this peak was the “King of the Storm” (Stormdrake). This being is biologically distinct from the everlasting ancient dragons, possessing a form closer to a wyvern, with a bird-like beak, feathers, and sharp claws. They were true “comrades-in-arms” who had shared the joys and sorrows of battle since the Age of Gods.

During the fierce battle with the Ashen One, when the King of the Storm is wounded and falls to the ground, the Nameless King points his spear with a faintly trembling hand and absorbs its soul into himself. The in-game description notes: “The Nameless King, ally of the ancient dragons, fought beside the stormdrake in countless battles. When the great beast fell, the king claimed his soul, as was the custom in the age of gods.”

This soul pact stands in stark contrast to the predatory behavior seen between the two great guardians of Anor Londo. In contrast to the ruthless nature of Smough, who crushed the fallen Ornstein without hesitation and stole his power merely for his own enhancement, the Nameless King’s tending to his comrade is filled with the sorrow and the “aesthetics of destruction” of a solitary warrior, taking on everything of his comrade before falling himself. Amidst the pouring storm and rain, the lightning dwelling in the king’s hand and the wind of his comrade intertwine, raging as a fierce gale unleashed from the Dragonslayer Swordspear—a scene that serves as the most beautiful, lyrical poem of their final act, expressing the immortal bond of souls that existed between them.

4. The Echoes in a Foreign Land as “Faraam, God of War”

The Firstborn of the Sun was “erased along with all records” from the official history of the gods, permanently losing his name in Anor Londo. However, as an analysis inferred from circumstantial evidence, it is believed that he did not completely vanish from the world’s memory. The greatest proof of this is the existence of “Faraam, God of War,” who once garnered immense worship in foreign lands (such as Drangleic, the setting of Dark Souls II).

The “Faraam Knights” who worshipped Faraam favored wearing helmets adorned with the proud motif of a “lion.” The fact that Ornstein, the firstborn’s “first knight,” carried the “Leo Ring,” and the fact that Faraam himself was worshipped as a “God of War” associated with overwhelming lightning power, are far too suggestive to be mere coincidence.

The lore derived from this coincidence is deeply steeped in sorrow. Banished from his homeland and stripped of everything by his own father, the firstborn wandered to a distant foreign land where he was simply given the new name “Faraam,” and perhaps there, he continued to be quietly revered as a spiritual pillar for those who fight. No matter how much the history of the gods sought to erase his traces and condemn his folly, the instinct of humans living and fighting in the mud unconsciously loved the visage of that fierce yet noble god of war, preserving it under a different name. This twist of history can be said to be a heartbreaking yet faint manifestation of humanity—proof that in a corner of a harsh world, the echoes of a god who had lost his place truly lived on in the hearts of the people.

Conclusion: The Portrait of the Last God Fading Beyond the Ash Storm

In an era where the end of the world approaches and all lands collapse and converge, the Nameless King merely submerged himself in the depths of silence at Archdragon Peak. What drove him was neither a lingering attachment to the “glory of fire” that Anor Londo once enjoyed, nor an ambition to rule the world once again. He simply wished to protect the alliance with the ancient dragons he had chosen of his own free will, and the promise made to his lifelong friend, until the very last moment.

When the bell of the Great Belfry is rung by the hands of the Ashen One and the silence is broken, the king cleaves through the fog that enveloped him and descends for his final battle. This battle is not an obligatory struggle for the Linking of the Fire to maintain the system; it is nothing less than a wordless dialogue of souls between the “first god” who lived without bending his spirit, and the “Unkindled” who journeys through the end of the world unbound by anything.

The final moments of the Nameless King, collapsing into the sea of ash at the end of a fierce struggle, prove that no matter how the world sinks into cold nothingness, the vow chosen by his own free will and the affection for his lost friend alone will continue to shine unblemished until the very end. The god of war, stripped of his name, quietly entrusted his proud soul to the Ashen One, completing the sorrowful yet beautiful curtain fall of the Age of Gods through his own death.