fromsoftwareがエルデンリングの追加テストフェーズの準備：サーバーの懸念によるnightreign
FromSoftwareのElden Ring：Nightreign拡張は、拡張テストフェーズに入ります。以前のテストでサーバーの問題に続いて、開発チームは洗練されたオンラインエクスペリエンスを提供することに取り組んでいます。この追加のテストでは、ゲームのオンラインインフラストラクチャの改良とスムーズなマルチプレイヤーの相互作用の確保に焦点を当てます。
Nightreignは、エルデンリングの宇宙への大幅な拡大を約束し、挑戦的な新しいボス、環境、伝承を紹介します。ただし、以前のテストにより、サーバーの不安定性がさらに最適化する必要があることが明らかになりました。この延長されたテスト期間により、Softwareが重要なデータを収集し、起動前に残りの技術的懸念に対処することができます。
選択したプレイヤーは、マルチプレイヤーエクスペリエンスを改善するために設計された更新されたメカニズムや機能など、新しいコンテンツへの早期アクセスを獲得します。彼らのフィードバックは、最終製品の形成に役立ちます。 Softwareの品質保証への献身は、NightreignのDark Worldへのシームレスで没入型の旅をプレイヤーに提供することを目指しています。
テストのスケジュールと参加の詳細に関するさらなる更新がまもなく発表されます。エルデンリングファンは、公式リリース時に洗練された魅力的な拡張を予想できます。
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Two Embers – Part 1
By [Your Name]
The wind howled across the shattered plains of Eldryth, carrying with it the scent of ash and forgotten prayers. Once, this land had bloomed beneath twin suns—golden and silver—cradled in the arms of the sky. Now, only two embers remained: one buried deep in the heart of the Obsidian Spire, the other flickering faintly in the chest of a girl who did not know her name.
She awoke beneath a sky split in two.
One half burned crimson, the other wept silver mist. The earth cracked like old parchment, and from the fissures rose whispers—voices not of men, nor beasts, but of memory itself. Her fingers curled around a shard of obsidian, warm to the touch, humming with a rhythm that matched her pulse.
She didn’t remember how she got here. She remembered nothing—not her mother’s lullaby, not the sound of her first breath, not even the shape of her face in the still pools of long-dead lakes.
Only the ember.
And the dream.
“When the twins fall, the world will wake,” the dream whispered. “But not as it was. Not as it should be.”
She sat up. The shard pulsed. Her reflection shimmered within it—not a face, but a storm: a woman with hair like flame and eyes like dying stars.
“You’re not real,” she said, voice cracked from disuse.
But the reflection smiled.
And spoke.
“I am you. I am what was lost. I am what was never meant to be found.”
She stumbled to her feet, wind tearing at her tattered cloak—the color of dust and midnight. Around her, ruins of a cathedral rose from the earth, its spires fused with bone and blackened iron. The name carved into its fallen arch read: Aetherion.
Her hand trembled as she touched the stone. A vision tore through her:
A war not of swords, but of light.
Two beings—twin stars forged in fire—clashing in the sky. One wore the face of a god, the other… a child.
She gasped.
And the ember screamed.
From the east, a sound like a thousand bells made of glass. A procession of shadows moved across the horizon—hooded figures with eyes of ash, marching in silence. Their chants were not in any tongue, but in absence. In silence.
She turned to flee—then stopped.
Because behind her, in the west, a new light rose.
Not silver. Not gold.
Blue.
And from it stepped a man—tall, scarred, wearing armor of woven wind and memory. In his hand, a sword without a blade. Its hilt bore the same mark as the shard in her palm.
“Eira,” he said, voice like wind over graves. “You’ve come at last.”
She stepped back. “Who are you?”
He looked at her, and for the first time, his face cracked—just slightly.
“I was your father,” he said. “And I thought I’d buried you with the world.”
The ground trembled. The sky split again.
And from the ember in her hand, a voice rose—not hers, not his.
“The first ember dies. The second awakens. The war begins.”
To Be Continued in Part 2: "The Blood of the Twin Suns"
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