Chapter 4
4
Howl
He heard the knocking.
Dimly, Cyril rose up from his bed and muttered to himself. It had been a long, long night but his dreams were disturbed. He dreamed of Arianna again and Sister Adella. The Hunter shook his head as the knocking got more insistent. He pulled his coat on and drew his pistol. Hiding it behind his back, Cyril opened the door a crack. He found Sasha outside of his door. Again. Even after all that he had said, she still made it a chore to get through the day.
The Hunter sighed in disgust at the sight of her and made to close the door. He was done. He was not going to deal with this today-
"Wait, please!"
Sasha pushed the door open and Cyril considered, briefly, using even more considerable strength to push it closed. "I just wanted to apologize." She said softly. "Please, if I could come in?"
The Hunter stared at her as if she had grown two heads. Then, with great reluctance, he let her inside. Sasha walked in quickly. Cyril closed the door, holstered his pistol and asked.
"What is it? I already told you I was going to keep your little secret." He said softly. "So why are you here? Why are you making things more difficult for me?"
Sasha lowered her head. She looked extremely pale, and tired. That was not his concern, whether she fell down exhausted or someone told her to rest was a job for someone else. He had bigger concerns, especially since rumors of his actions with the job from the other night had begun to circulate. Where he killed fifty monsters in a single night. Many folks claimed that he did so alone, a human conceit. But it was understandable, he must have made such a spectacle that night. He kept those bitter musings to himself.
"… There were… things… I heard what happened to you. You were attacked by monsters." Sasha said. "Are you-"
Cyril reached up and massaged his temple slowly with one hand, eyes blank as he seemed to nearly explode. He was really not looking forward to this round of conversation. His expression must have been utterly terrifying because Sasha had swallowed loudly. Cyril exhaled, counting to ten. Slowly. He was close to punching something. Or someone and he was not about to do that.
Although he was sorely tempted to do so, instead he schooled his expression into a more blank mask.
"I'm fine. I'm still alive aren't I?" He asked in return. The Hunter shook his head. "But that's not really what you wanted to hear did you?"
"I'm sorry, but… You did agree to keep silent so… I just wanted to be sure that you were okay…"
Cyril shook his head, a little less irritated. "I'm fine." He repeated. "And like I said before, you should leave, it'll make things harder for you if you are seen with me."
"Regardless, I am… glad to see that you're okay." Sasha said feeling more comfortable. "People talk."
Cyril smiled under his bandanna. "So what are people saying?" He asked, bitterly. "Am I a monster yet?"
"It's that… and…" Sasha looked away shamefaced. Cyril did not understand why, she was not the one spreading rumors and he knew she was a good woman regardless of the stunt she pulled with him that one night. "Other people are interested, I've been listening to old colleagues in the Order whenever I've been invited to speak with them. They think you're some sort of blessed individual."
"Blessed individual?" Cyril laughed, a deep growl that caused the hairs on the back of Sasha's neck to stand up. It was like hearing a wolf growling in your ear. "Now that is a joke I have never heard before. People think that I am a hero, or at least this land's version of a hero from what I can tell." He sat down in front of Sasha. "What else happened?"
"I was told that individuals wished to speak to you about your… experience against monsters." Sasha said softly. "I know you just wish to be left alone, but I just came to warn you."
"Who's first?" Cyril asked. "Friend or foe?"
"Probably members of the knights. Not Merse though." Sasha said, wondering why he thought in such black and white terms. "A pair of them, and I do not know when they will come here. It is the Inquisition I am more concerned about. I cannot protect you from them."
"Neither will I ask you to." Cyril's answer was telling. "It seems that I have overstayed my welcome in Lescatie if there is such an organization with good intentions like the Inquisition after me for doing what I have to do."
Sasha deflated. She felt guilty that Cyril had been through quite a bit while all she had to worry about was losing sleep and raising orphans. She was not here to compare her suffering to another person's. "Regardless of what you do, I must ask you not to resist any questioning." She said to him. "I cannot stop them from questioning you, but please try to show some semblance of cooperating with the agents of the Inquisition."
Cyril sighed. She was concerned if she was telling him this. Then again, while he had never met an Inquisitor before he knew they operated with nothing but zealotry. Beasts of their own type. Cyril had no opinion of the Order, as every group had its good and bad. The Hunter had nothing but distrust and utter contempt for those who claimed to act in the good of all humanity.
The Healing Church had said the same thing… and a curious person would only need to look at what had happened to the Mad City of Yharnam to know the truth to such an organization's goals. Cyril would take Sasha's advice but if they believed that he would bow to their wishes and share his secrets then they had another thing coming.
It seemed that things had escalated, and he was stuck in another bad situation. He looked outside his window at the sunny day, he saw no clouds and if he listened closely he could hear the chirping of birds nearby. It was as if the Gods of this realm were insulting him and everything he had gone through.
"A-Are you okay?"
Cyril heard Sasha's voice and realized that he had been staring outside the window, fist clenched and eyes narrowed. And it had been quite a while, enough for her to ask the same question a few times. His features still hardened he looked Sasha right in the eye.
"No." He said coldly. "Not at all."
The Hunter's day was as boring as it could get except for one caveat. People talked and many were now aware of him, so he chose to keep wearing the clothes he had on when he had first entered Yharnam. The hood, in particular, made it easier to blend in with the crowd. Cyril kept his eyes forward, hauling his supplies with him in a heavy sack.
Irritably, he avoided the main road. He took a meandering route through the side streets towards the slums. His first encounter with a mugger ended pretty poorly for the mugger, having snapped the man's neck with no remorse. The rest of his friends must have spread the word because he had been left alone for several months and now only the foolish or the arrogant still tried to challenge him in the streets. A rare occurrence, even now in the rising tumult that was engulfing the city as rumors of a major attack began to spread amongst the commoners.
Cyril stopped a few feet away from his house when he saw them. A pair of knights, both wearing partial plate over revealing outfits. Cyril's eyes narrowed at the young boy walking around with them. A mage perhaps? Did they intend to track him down through arcane means? Cyril was no magician, but he did have some Hunter tools that required some knowledge of sorcery. He cursed himself. They might go into the house by breaking into it to look for any sign of him. He looked at his belt at the holstered pistol he had. He had left the Saw Cleaver at home in order to keep attention away, and thus he was more lightly armed than he should have been.
A foolish decision but he was going to make do. The Hunter drew his pistol, leaving his bag of supplies in an empty barrel. He pulled his hood down and disappeared into the shadows.
He was not about to let them get away with anything related to Yharnam. Simple as that.
"What did you sense Eba?"
The young apprentice closed his book as he looked up into the carefree visage of the knight, Lady Lucian Sausre. The blonde smirked idly as Eba shook his head.
"N-Nothing good." Eba said. The effeminate boy held his book tight to his chest as he stared at the shabby house that belonged to the Person of Interest, as dictated by Lord William Noscrim. Heroes were Heroes and they all needed to be under Lescatie's control. Eba looked frightened by the prospect of meeting this one.
"Well, that's reassuring." Lucian said, her voice bright and cheerful as she hopped up onto an empty barrel, sitting on it and crossing her legs. "And he's not even here yet, should we continue our present task Captain?"
Lucian looked over to her superior, Captain Vermut Rosnair, who frowned back at her subordinates with disapproval.
"Your demeanor is not fit for a Knight of Lescatie, Lucian. Please set a better example to your juniors. And Eba, even if our assignment is… unpleasant we still must do it. Our honor as knights demand it." She spoke sternly, although not unkindly.
"Y-Yes, Captain." Eba said, straightening his posture immediately. Lucian grinned and gave a little salute, her antics had long since lost their ability to rile Vermut up. Still, Vermut wished Lucian took her duties more seriously.
"Now…" Vermut began to ask Lucian to knock when she had frozen, looking over her shoulder. Eba's eyes widened and Vermut reached for the hilt of her sword as she made to turn around-
Click.
The barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of Vermut's head as the Hunter made himself known. He had made no sound, as if he had just appeared out of nowhere. Vermut raised her hands immediately, cursing herself for being so lax in attentiveness as she tried to look as non-threatening as possible. She gazed intensely at Lucian who had a scowl on her pretty face as she drew her sword. Beside her, Eba held his book tightly looking terrified. She should have known that this was going to happen. The Guild of Adventurers had described an irrationally paranoid man… with the experience of a hardened veteran hero of the Order and the skill set of an utterly remorseless, and yet very successful, killer.
She should have asked for more back up… because the menacing presence holding a weapon to her head was stifling. Furthermore…
"You… You have no mana…" Eba whispered in shock, which in turn made Lucian turn to him in abject confusion. "H-How are you alive…?"
The Hunter kept his gun arm steady as he regarded Eba and Lucian with dead eyes.
"Who are you, and what the hell are you doing on my property?"
"Your property!?" Lucian snarled with a mirthless chuckle. "Listen buddy-"
"Lucian!" Vermut snarled. "Shut your damn mouth, let me handle this!"
"Captain…" Eba whimpered.
The Hunter's finger tensed on the trigger. "I'm going to count to five. If you have not told me what you are doing here, you're going to see me through the hole I put in this woman's head." He said quietly. The threat was not false.
"My name is Captain Vermut Rosnair of the Order of Lescatian Knights." Vermut said. "I could have you hanged for this."
"Then you will die." The Hunter said softly. "And your friends will follow you to whatever afterlife you look for, unlike yours their deaths will not be easy. Try again."
Vermut swore under her breath, unfitting for a knight of her stature. He had the advantage of surprise and while she was sure Lucian was more than capable of taking down this man, she was not so sure about that succeeding with Eba who was focused on support. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out a way out of this position.
"We are here to speak to you." Vermut said, keeping her hands raised. "That is all there is. We are not the Inquisition, you… won't be in trouble. So just put the weapon down and we can discuss things like civilized human beings."
Vermut still felt the pressure of the barrel but the Hunter eventually relented. Vermut signaled at Lucian to sheath her sword although the other knight did so reluctantly, shooting a glare at the Hunter who didn't even bother deigning her with a response.
"Speak." The Hunter's voice was brusque and rough.
Vermut scowled. "There's a lot of talk coming from the guild about you." She said, trying to calm herself down.
The Hunter shrugged. Vermut noticed, with alarm, that he had not holstered his weapon. The man was lean and quite tall, with a hardened physique. His features were hidden underneath a hood, and he seemed young. His gaze was sharp, stern and very tired. All in all he looked, and was, dangerous.
"I'm a mercenary." The Hunter said. "Bloodshed is part of the job, it doesn't matter if I kill man or monster it's what I do."
"But…" Eba spoke up. Lucian put a hand on the boy's shoulder and shook her head when he looked to her in confusion. Lucian just kept a wary eye on their new acquaintance.
"How long have you been a mercenary?" Vermut asked.
"Quite a while." The Hunter said. "Long before I entered this land." His voice was curt and to the point. Lucian had a gut feeling that he was lying but the hood made it hard to read him. His body language also gave off nothing. Vermut could be being fed bullshit by this guy and she probably wouldn't even know it.
"And your… title? Hunter? What did you hunt?" Vermut's question made the Hunter stiffen.
And then he… he smiled. There was nothing good in that smile. Lucian felt her hands moisten and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
"Beasts. I hunt beasts no matter what skin they choose to wear."
4th Company Camp
Wailing. Weeping, howling and wailing. The sounds of grief and pain.
Fina blinked as she sat up from her cot, at first confused. Then she listened carefully and quickly got out of bed and dressed. Once she was dressed she drew her sword and walked out of her tent to see Seras already up. The vampire was already scowling as she beheld the spectacle. Awkwardly Fina sheathed her weapon when she saw Seras staring at the naked blade in her hand. Fina stood by her foster mother as they beheld the spectacle.
Seven Banshees stood in the center of camp, their weeping and wailing echoing through the morning air. Their pale skins wrapped in black silken vestments of mourning, they wept for the coming days of battle when the Fourth Princess would come for the theocracy of Lescatie with a horde of monsters at her back. It was a haunting sight as many of the monsters in Ursula's army were rattled by the sudden appearance of the Banshees.
The Banshees served the Goddess of Death and when they appeared it would often be a prelude to death and disaster. They heralded the coming of death, something that not even Ares the God of War could change. Fina swallowed when she saw Natsume speaking to one of the Banshees, the Banshee nodding with remarkable patience as Natsume babbled her fears to the other monster. Her eyes were wide and wild, the expression on Natsume's face caused Fina's heart to ache for the once noble Kunoichi, driven mad all because she had to meet a dangerous man who desired nothing more than ruin upon her.
It wasn't fair.
"I tried to hold her back." Seras said, shaking Fina out of her thoughts. "Didn't work too well."
"So why…" Fina began and then she rounded on Seras. "Natsume was supposed to be heading to one of the Greilia Sabbath healers wasn't that the plan?"
"I thought it would help if she spoke to these Banshees. Damn, am I wrong now." Seras said. "Alright, let's go get her back." As the pair began to move towards Natsume to help her back to the healer's tent they saw Ursula approach, looking quite thunderous at what was happening in her campsite.
Seras held out a hand to stop Fina. Great. As if the situation needed to be made worse, the Captain was going to get involved.
Ursula had approached the lead Banshee, the one wearing a circlet over her black hair and more ornamented robes. The Demon Captain was not in the mood for foolishness. The appearance of the Banshees was causing chaos throughout her camp and it was bothering her. As if the Kunoichi's frankly concerning behavior was not enough, she now had to deal with an omen.
Whatever it was.
"Greetings, Lady Ursula daughter of Gamigin." The Elder Banshee bowed her head in respect. "What do you seek from me?"
"Why are you here?" Ursula demanded, not even bothering with courtesy. "Who is destined to die?" She looked at Natsume who muttered to herself under her breath. It was at that time that Fina had finally reached her friend and was trying to steer her back to the healer's tent.
"Many are destined to die." The Elder spoke, her voice filled with melancholy. "It is the charge of the Lady of Twilight for us to guide those souls to the afterlife, be they monster or man."
"You didn't answer my question." Ursula stated coolly.
"And yet I have. Many will die when the Fourth's assault begins… My sisters are also accompanying the other companies under her shadow and they give their guidance, however unwanted it may seem." The Elder Banshee smiled. "We do not profit off of the suffering of others, Demon. I would advise you to think otherwise."
Ursula scowled. Fine she'd let her have that win for now.
"Why else are you here then?" Ursula asked after a long pause. "I mean, it isn't everyday that the Goddess of Death graces us with the presence of her mighty servants."
The Elder Banshee gave a little amused smile. "I also come with a warning, Daughter of Gamigin. Beware the Moon Scented Hunter." Her blue eyes gleamed. "For he is a herald of woe, and should you decide to pursue him after your victories you will lose everything and everyone that you hold dearest to your heart."
"Moon Scented Hunter?" Ursula chuckled in disbelief. "What in the name of the Demon Lord does that even mean?!"
The Elder Banshee spread her arms. "The gods have their eyes on Lescatie." She stated. "There exists a man within its walls, a man who walks the earth cursed with strength and knowledge that he will take to the grave."
"So he is there…" Ursula mused. "Worthy prey that I have been seeking."
"Or your downfall." The Elder chided her. "I have warned you, in any case, and what you do with this warning is out of my hands. Have a good day."
The Banshee returned to her place amongst her weeping sisters.
Seras approached Ursula. "The hell was that about?" She asked.
Ursula shook her head, "We might have problems with the invasion." She said. "I will be gone tonight. Demeter will have command of the camp, I believe that the Fourth will be calling a council before she gives us the order to march into the city."
Seras sighed. "I will also be sending Natsume to the Greilia Sabbath." She told Ursula who looked down in pity. "And since Fina has stepped up to do her duties, what are her orders in the interim?"
"I want her to find our so-called Moon Scented Hunter." Ursula spoke.
Seras blinked and her jaw dropped. "Captain, what in the fuck." She stated. "You were just warned by that bloody Banshee that this man is not to be fucked with and you decide to send my daughter out to try and make contact!?" The vampire faced Ursula fully now, a vein pounding in her forehead.
"I do not do this easily, Seras. But we have to know if the Order has him in their clutches. You can see why." Ursula spoke trying to calm down the irate vampire who clearly motioned for her to go on. "If this man is a threat to the Fourth's plan then we need to know and if he is a threat then he needs to be taken out of the equation."
She smiled slightly at Seras. "Imagine such a man in our ranks. Imagine the strength he could provide, we could have the Order at our knees with such a blade under our command."
"Assuming he doesn't kill us all in the upcoming invasion." Seras pointed out, scowling. "I want you to think carefully about this, Ursula. My daughter's life is in your hands. I do not want this to blow up in all of our faces and if something happens to my daughter I will be most… displeased ."
"I know." Ursula said softly.
"I know."
The air was stuffy this night.
Druella, Fourth Born of the Royal Makai and Fourth Princess of the Demon Realm, eased back into her chair and smiled as she heard the sounds of debauchery happening in the fortified camp of her army. Truly, the human realm of Lescatie was a bit too humid for her tastes but when it was conquered it would change for the better.
The lilim crossed her legs already wishing for more luxurious dwellings than this tent. Sure she was more than capable of creating a space for herself but why make something yourself when it was far, far more challenging to just take it?
She looked over to the east, where her target was wrapped cozy in its stone walls. Lescatie, a powerful seat of the foolish Order. Her new realm awaited her, and all it needed was a little push. The white haired succubus smiled wider.
Dear me, she mused, I have a lot of work to do.
The council was attended by the strongest and most useful of the court of the Fourth Princess. Ursula waited alongside three other captains as Kikimora dressed in black lifted the long table and set it on the grass. More monster maids and incubi set up chairs, refreshments and other miscellaneous items needed for the meet.
Ursula had to smile to herself. Never let it be said that Lady Druella was an awful host.
"What puts a smile on your face, dear sister?"
Ursula turned to the Captain of the 2nd Company.
Daria Noharis smiled as she faced her contemporary. The High Orc's tanned skin was swathed in leather armor and furs. A mercenary from the more mountainous areas of the continent, Daria caught Druella's attentions recently and had thus pledged her skills and her forces in service to the lilim. The red eye jewelry that marked many who fell under the white winged succubus's shadow was present as a buckle on Daria's belt.
"All this. It's been weeks and I tire of waiting. I long for the rush of the battlefield once more." Ursula replied.
Daria laughed, a deep growl filled with humor. "So you say. I'm just here for the loot. Apparently the Fourth also has rumors of quite the tasty prey so I've been hearing…" Her eye glinted. "A Hunter from what I have been hearing."
Ursula refused to let her smile dip even more than it should. Seras had been talking to the Sabbaths back in Royal Makai, especially the White Goat Sabbath and the Sleepy Magical Archive. None of them had given any real answers to their dangerous person of interest. Ursula should not have been surprised to find that Druella knew about him as well.
There was a rustle of cloth and everyone seated at the table rose as Druella walked inside escorted by two Dullahan Knights and a peculiar black furred Baphomet. It was Kuroferuru, Devil Goat of the Black Mud and leader of the Sabbath that shared her name.
"Well now, my dears." Druella spoke as she conjured an oozing and levitating black throne for her to sit in. "It has been far, far too long a time to be so idle especially for monsters such as I."
"Indeed, milady." Kuroferuru giggled. "A hedonist such as thee has no business in being so still."
"Oh hush, my dear Black Goat." Druella said to her with a wide grin on her pale, beautiful face. "Now, I must say that I am rather excited to get started on our invasion. Are our companies in readiness? Surely we all deserve to be the tip of the spear… especially with what we are all about to do."
"The First is ready, Your Highness." The First Captain, Isabella Orelov, smiled as she bowed. The Elder Vampire's armor gleamed dully in the light, as dark as a moonlit night and yet adorned with the same red eye jewels as everyone else wore. She led the most focused warriors in the army, her knights doing their duty and riding down the common foot soldiers.
"The Second's ready whenever you need it, Princess." Second Captain Daria raised her fist. The High Orc led shock troops, those responsible for getting into grips with and demoralizing the enemy. Daria led from the front, for in her company those who had the strength should be able to lead.
"Ha! The Third will gain the most glory! Send us in first through the gate!" The Third Captain let out a bestial howl. The Hell-hound, Piscina, revealed a white set of fangs. She led the largest concentration of beastmen in the army and even the most individualistic Minotaur would heed her commands. Such a horde would be responsible for breaking through weaknesses in the enemy lines.
"My Fourth Company awaits your orders, my Princess." Ursula bowed her head as eyes gazed at her. She was young yes, but she commanded a more supportive force that could bolster a failing offensive. Her monsters were disciplined enough for a strenuous duty like this.
Druella clapped her hands at the show of readiness. "How wonderful!" She tittered. "And truly, it seems that not only has the Fourth brought me much joy, it shares with me something interesting…"
"Indeed." Kuroferuru's grin grew wide as she held out a paw with well trimmed black fur. Floating out of the black void that she sat on, the Baphomet conjured up parchment. "A worthy prey for those willing to seek him out."
Ursula's eyes narrowed slightly as the Baphomet showed the picture of their Person of Interest. This one was also from Murasaki Natsume, who had fallen ill. She had kept that fact to herself and was wondering if she should reveal what had happened to the Kunoichi.
The so-called Moon Scented Hunter. Such a troublesome existence. Already, Ursula could hear the Banshee's warning.
"My, my…" Daria grinned as she stood up to regard the picture of the Hunter. "What's this?"
Ursula heard some very excited pants coming from Piscina while Isabella looked at the sketch with a curious eye.
This time the sketch of the Hunter was a close up of his face, hidden as it was by the hat and bandanna. Ursula could see that there was something in his stern visage that caught the eye. She felt tempted to just rush into Lescatie, find the man and rip off that mask to see the handsome face beneath it.
"Should anyone bring this… promising individual to me in the attack… I will reward them greatly." Druella said with a smile.
A few days later…
Why was he here?
Cyril looked up at the Monster Orphanage deep in the woods and pondered the reason why he was here. It was maddening. Here he was, at the most dangerous location for him standing around like an idiot as if he was going to find answers to the uncomfortable question of "what now?".
The Hunter sighed. He knew he was going insane if he was thinking that the Night of the Hunt was easier than what he was going through right now. At least the beasts there had been trying to kill him. Apparently every monster girl was looking for a nice man to call their own. Which, for some reason, also included fell handed killers like him.
Cyril had long since finished the Monster Girl Encyclopedia and was honestly floored with what the Wandering Scholar was claiming, that the Demon Lord wished for a utopia of man and monster. If that succeeded, then where would that leave someone like him? A Hunter of beasts, slayer of nightmares that lived in times of peace?
It was a maddening question and not one that would be easily solved by staying in Order territory. The Order had long stood against the Demon Lord and her objective of unifying the world, but he would not stand with them either. Not with what he had seen in Lescatie where the clergy and the nobility conspired to exploit the common folk. Not when they themselves crusade and destroy anything that does not cooperate with their line of thinking.
He was not an advocate for the monsters but neither would he become a zealot for humanity's sake. He had long since seen what a man can do to his fellow humans. Sometimes the greatest monsters he had had to hunt down looked just like a human. Beasts who wore the skin of man.
Cyril sighed and turned around, heading away from the path that lead to the Monster Orphanage. He wasn't going to talk to Sasha and at this rate, there was no point. It was time to go. He just had to find a place away from any Order territory. He could defend himself from monsters competently enough and he could avoid them if he had to.
Perhaps Zipangu would finally be the place he sought. There was nothing on this continent but war, pillage and constant conflict with the Order. The Hunter kept walking, eventually making it home. Home. He didn't think this shabby old house was home anymore.
Cyril Sutherland walked into the back of his home where something waited for him. It was a greatsword, wrapped in bandages. He unwrapped the massive blade and took it up. The sword once belonged Ludwig, the Holy Blade. A Church Hunter who had devolved into a savage, insane beast until Cyril killed him.
In the end, the sword was bequeathed to him, after Cyril lied to give a once great man some semblance of a peaceful death. The blade gave out guidance and now, as battle approached he wondered what guidance it would give out.
Cyril planted the point of the Greatsword into the ground and leaned on it heavily.
He was tired. But he had to leave.