Chapter 5

5

Siege

Cyril sighed as he saw that the Guild was closed. Already, he heard the murmurs and the disgruntled complaints when the herald that had come under escort began to speak about incoming troubles and stuff like that. Of course, the adventurers weren't happy about the closure and it was quite certain that the guild-master in charge of this branch was obviously going to take his complaints to not just the royalty but to the main branch in another country.

The Hunter knew that the Guild had some clout, seeing as they were the ones defending the merchant caravans that pulled in trade for the City. He idly wondered what the fat cats in the noble court were going to do when they realized that closing the Guild on the account of trying to save costs for the incoming attack would end very badly for them. The adventurers were not going to work for free after all.

That was going to rustle some feathers in this city. Cyril could care less about that. As far as anyone knew he wasn't planning on staying here for long. Especially with a horde of monsters descending on the city in good order, he just needed a direction to go. He reached into his jacket for the map of the known world he had purchased and knew that the mapmaker had marked a port city near Lescatie for him to get to, knowing full well that the guy was fleeing too the man had offered Cyril a ride in the next caravan out of here which was leaving tonight.

Tonight.

He just had to wait until sundown and he would be out of this city, out of the reach of the Order. Away from the madness that were monster girls… well, he was probably wrong on that last one. He probably would encounter even more monsters but at least in Zipangu many of them were of a reasonable bent and he would not have to draw his blade on someone.

The Hunter was not foolish enough to hang onto the dream of peace however. As he left the Adventurer's Guild, avoiding any familiar faces he knew that everything had a price, whether it was gold or blood he did not know.

But already he knew the answer to that question. Already, he felt the blood of both the innocent and the guilty on his hands.

Cyril again wondered how bad his luck was going to get as he returned to his home after a day of meandering through the market. At least the day was not wasted as much as it should have been. The mapmaker he had spoken to had confirmed that they were indeed leaving tonight with a merchant caravan. The universe did indeed balance itself out however, with his bad luck confirming it.

Because a clergyman was waiting for him in front of a carriage. Cyril clenched his fist as he recognized the Hero escorting him… Wilmarina Noscrim, the strongest hero in Lescatie. The Hunter narrowed his eyes, feeling the weight of the Holy Moonlight Sword hanging off the harness on his back. He sighed as the clergyman walked up.

Cyril saw some resemblance between the old man and the Hero, so this must be her father.

"Greetings, Hero." The man said, with a twisted smile. The Hunter could smell the ambition and greed oozing off of this man. Cyril didn't return his greeting and crossed his arms staring at this buffoon who seemed to believe this conversation was going the way he wanted it to. Having his daughter, the Hero, here wasn't even going to help him in the slightest. There was a threat here, laughable as it may seem. He would at least let this man speak for himself, not that he cared in the slightest about his words.

"And you are?" Cyril asked, his voice utterly unimpressed with the situation. The clergyman's smile faltered slightly.

"I am Lord William Noscrim." The man stated officiously to the Hunter. "I have come here to ascertain the value of a rumored Hero right here in this city and to have him join his blade with the many who would fight for the Chief God."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Cyril asked again, knowing where this conversation was going.

"Watch your tone." Ah, there it was, the man's polite veneer was cracking. The clergyman's smile disappeared in its entirety. "A peasant should know better than to speak in such a way to their betters."

"And a man who believes in the gods should strive to be more humble." Cyril returned coldly. "Lest they meet their lords in a tragic end."

The clergyman's face was a sight to behold as it turned a very dangerous shade of furious red. To the side Wilmarina's jaw had dropped in such shock it was almost funny. This must have been the first time that she had seen someone dare to speak in such a way to a member of clergy, let alone someone as high ranking as her father. It truly did surprise her that there were men like this Hunter, men who did not bow to the Order or the Chief God.

"Enough with this posturing, priest." Cyril said his tone a dangerous whisper. "What are you wasting my time here for?"

"Your continued insolence is displeasing to me." William Noscrim scowled. "And Heroes only need to obey the words of the Chief God."

"Your god isn't mine." Cyril stated calmly. "And neither am I a Hero or anything like that. You're wasting your time and if you intend to start a fight here I can guarantee that someone is not coming back home in one piece."

He straightened his stance. "Your choice." He said softly. "Leave or die."

"Wilmarina. Teach this heretic the meaning of humility."

Sighing to herself Wilmarina stepped forward drawing her sword. She did not want to fight here at all but those hopes had been dashed. Her father was overbearing but the Hunter who insulted him was also someone who lacked respect.

"So be it." Cyril Sutherland spoke calmly even as the girl in front of him widened her stance. "We'll do this your way. I hope you will not come to regret it." The Hunter reached back for his Saw Cleaver and swung it sideways, extending the blade. He then reached down to his belt for the Fist of Gratia, a hulking clod of iron fitted with finger holes.

Wilmarina held her sword tight as she saw the man, the Hunter, approach. His stance was open but the Hero clenched her teeth as she realized just how dangerous her opponent was. Wilmarina knew that the Hunter had experience. A lot more experience than she ever had. She had been speaking to Captain Merse Dascaros but even that one eyed harpy knew nothing about her current opponent. She had no desire to fight him but honor demanded it. Even if the order was coming from an unworthy lord, her own father, she still had a duty to dole out punishment for heresy against the Order. Such was her duty as a hero, humanity must be defended even if it must be done against itself.

Wilmarina hoped that the Hunter had no hard feelings about what she was going to do. She had to teach him a lesson after all.

The Hero charged sword raised for a thrust… that the Hunter sidestepped with ease. A staggering blow to the back of her head caused Wilmarina to fly forward and hit the dirt. With a grunt of pain Wilmarina staggered to her knees as the Hunter lowered his off hand, which was holding what looked like a clod of iron with finger holes in it.

Wilmarina felt the back of her head. The divine blessings of the Chief God would help her shrug off most injuries but she knew that if she wasn't so blessed the blow would have caved the back of skull head in. Panting, Wilmarina got back up as the Hunter waited. He blinked in some surprise to see that she was back on her feet, but he resumed his usual stoic expression.

Wilmarina went for another strike that the Hunter parried with ease, and proceeded to hit her twice in the side with the clod of iron. Wilmarina bellowed soundlessly, saliva rocketing out of her mouth as her body seemed to curve around the Hunter's fist with the second hammer like blow. Just as her feet hit the ground the Hunter kicked her right in the solar plexus and sent her flying backwards.

Watching the duel end in a spectacular manner, William Noscrim paled as he watched his daughter hit the ground spread eagle. She rolled onto her side, holding it as spikes of agony went through her lungs and her sides. The Hunter looked down at the injured girl with a pitiless glance and then turned his grim, stern gaze on the clergyman who backed up slightly. It was only pride and humiliation that kept the clergyman from running in terror.

He did not expect his daughter to fail like this most of all.

"I suppose that means your god was on my side." He stated coolly. Wilmarina gasped in pain as she crawled back away from the Hunter who swung his Saw Cleaver down and clipped it onto the harness on his back. "This duel has ended, go from here and do not retaliate."

"What makes you think that I'll forget this, heretic?" William said, trying to bluster his way out of this.

"Because if you send someone after me…" The Hunter warned him. "I will kill them, and then I will find your home and I will gut you." He pointed at Wilmarina who had hit the floor again, gasping for air. "That girl is your daughter. Should you try me again, I will kill her and I will end your line with no hesitation."

The Hunter's visage hardened and William nearly fell to his knees as a wave of massive killing intent emanated from the man. "You will find my terms to be quite generous, priest. Leave while you still can."

Cyril watched the two of them go, Wilmarina leaning on her father as the clergyman walked with a brisk pace. The bastard didn't even care about the Hero's condition which made him scowl before the indifference settled in. What was the point? The Order had their eyes on him now, and with the fact that he just bested their best warrior in a street fight he was sure there would be even more repercussions for his actions today.

He would just deal with it, as he always had. With steel and strength, he would have to carve out his own ideal of isolation. He would not actively seek out conflict but if someone wanted to fight he would most certainly end it. Cyril looked up at the sky, it was going to be a long day and an even longer night. Assuming he was correct in his prediction that the-an attack was coming. Cyril knew monsters weren't patient types. If they wanted something, they would get it. Whether anyone wanted to or not. The Hunter returned to his home to make sure his things were packed. After that he would wait for whatever came for the city. Fate seemed to be cruel enough to put him in such a situation, and if indeed the monsters came for him then so be it.

He would make these streets run red with the blood of man and monsters. Anyone who got in his way of freedom would die. Simple as that.

Cyril took up his whetstone once more and sharpened the blade of the Holy Moonlight Sword.

"Fina."

The Dhampir scooped up her buckler as she stopped her preparations briefly to face her mother. Seras had her arms crossed as she watched the young woman she had raised for eighteen years in her long life stand up to face her. Seras beamed with pride at how Fina had grown… and that pride was tempered by fury at what her Captain was doing to her.

"M-Mother." Fina was surprised. "I was just… getting ready for my mission." She looked down as Seras approached her. "I never got to say good-bye to Natsume…"

"I know, my darling." Seras whispered holding her daughter tight. "But she has to stay sedated, I cannot risk her safety if…"

"Your pardon, Lady Seras."

A Dullahan was standing at the entrance to the healer's tent. Seras let go of Fina and regarded the monster knight with a trademark scowl. "What is it?"

"Doctor Little is requesting your presence." The knight said. Seras's eyes widened as did Fina. This was something neither woman expected and it showed in how shocked they were.

"Lady Greilia is here!?" Fina gaped at the Dullahan who nodded in return.

"Aye, she just arrived a few minutes ago via portal."

Fina and Seras looked at each other. "Perhaps we should see what she wants, mother." Fina said trying to make sense of what just happened. "She could be helping Natsume before they depart for her Sabbath."

Greilia was a rarity amongst monsters. She sought neither companionship or someone to warm her bed at night. Instead, her days consisted of helping those who could not help themselves. She treated the sick, the injured and when required she gave comfort to those who were about to die.

The Baphomet may have the looks of a child but she had lived a long, long life. Still, her idealism and her desire to help those who could not help themselves remained strong. It was an ideal she spent several lifetimes teaching to those who were capable of becoming healers in their own rights. Hence why it was so hard to get into her Sabbath.

The diminutive healer walked around the 4th company camp with Ursula in tow. The Demon Captain was certainly surprised to see one of the foremost practitioners of Pharmacomancy wandering around in a place like this but she had her reasons. Battle always inevitably took lives away from man and monster and while Greilia had never raised a blade in anger, she was still inevitably drawn to the wars that erupted on the continent between the Order and the forces of the Demon Lord.

"I see that you are all well prepared." Greilia turned around to look up at Ursula who bowed her head. "Will you be needing more healers? I mean this city is important to the Order after all."

"That would be nice, Lady Greilia but…" Ursula trailed off as she saw Seras and Fina approaching. She sighed. Greilia had wanted to speak to these two privately, and she had been waiting with her for the past thirty minutes. Seras barely even acknowledged her Captain as both she and her foster daughter bowed their heads to Greilia.

"Doctor. This is a surprise, I thought you were busy." Fina stated.

"I was." Greilia answered with a quick smile. "I just stopped by to take a look at your friend, Fina." She turned to Seras and her expression was warm as she remembered the precocious vampire who was under her wing over two hundred years ago. It was such a shame to see her so… jaded now. Then again, Fina had been a handful before. And she knew that was an understatement. Seras took her duties as both a healer and a mother seriously, something that took its toll on Seras's mood.

"Hello, Seras." Greilia greeted her former student.

"Teacher." Seras returned. "I was just getting ready to send Fina off on her mission." The sidelong glare that she sent a wincing Ursula made it clear just how… upset she was with the whole thing. Greilia pitied her, she really did. Fina was Seras's greatest treasure in this world of theirs and…

"Shirokuto and Runya send their regards, Seras." Greilia said. "There's been an awful lot of talk about what you have sent to them." Her expression turned grave for a moment. "This man has no background? You've never heard of him?"

"Not until Natsume came back… like that." Fina answered sadly. "The Captain has asked me to spy on him, see if he has any loyalty to the Order but it is unlikely that he is though from what I've seen."

"So he's inimical to man and monster alike." Greilia mused to herself as she lifted a black furred paw to her chin. "Shirokuto has some theories as to who he is. But… Getting answers from that smug girl is just a horrid experience. The moment she got Seras's message she threw herself into investigating him and that symbol on the sketch."

Fina wasn't surprised. Shirokuto, the White Goat of Wisdom was an arch-mage of legend even long before the current Demon Lord ascended to power. She was also stubborn, secretive and very paranoid about sharing her work with others. Even if it would benefit all of monster kind. Runya would have been a better person to work with, and she was already busy with all the magical theories she was working with.

Even she was enamored by the mystery of this person who had no mana and yet could take on monsters without trouble, let alone be affected by any seduction techniques from the monster. Runya considered it a terrifying yet fascinating conundrum. Greilia had thought them both mad for thinking that this was just a problem that books and learning could solve.

"Regardless, I think he could represent a significant obstacle to the Fourth's Plans." Ursula said. "Which is why I want him evaluated."

"You think of him as prey." Seras's tone was firm. "I don't, Ursula. That Banshee had good reason to warn you not to pursue him in any way. Fina told me that he's a gifted killer and as sad as it is, the man is a danger to others. Pissing him off is the most unwise thing that you can do."

"I still have my duties to Lady Druella, Seras." Ursula's reply was smooth and yet just as determined as the vampire's.

"And the knowledge that failure means that my daughter's blood will be on your hands. " Seras said, her voice a threatening whisper that caused Ursula's eyes to narrow.

"Enough." Greilia said sternly. "We all have a mission to complete but fighting about it will not help things in the slightest." The Baphomet stared both women down until they relented and stepped away from each other.

"Fina, you know who this man is?" Greilia asked.

"Yes, milady." Fina answered.

"Then I would advise you to start observing him now, do not make contact. I expect a report from you as well." Greilia said. "In the meantime, Seras. Ursula." She looked at the both of them with a wide smile that was clearly most displeased with how they were acting. "Please take me to Miss Murasaki before I take her to my Sabbath. I'd like to get started on preparing her for the journey back to Makai."

She looked at Fina with a gentle smile. "I will do my utmost to help your friend, Fina. You have my word."

Fina's smile was fleeting but sincere. She bowed her head in thanks and moved out to begin her mission. She steeled her heart for what lay ahead: hunting down someone who was possibly the most dangerous man in the city.

It was late afternoon by the time Fina had made her way into the city of Lescatie. It was so, so easy to sneak past the guard. The Adventurer's Guild may have been closed but that did not mean that the stream of travelers had stopped. Mixed in with the refugees who sought entry and safety in the city meant that the guards were overtaxed with keeping the area secure against monsters.

Fina knew that there were hordes of them coming in from all directions, a part of Druella's plan. It was risky since it meant that her army would have less prisoners in the attack to come but it would weaken Lescatie significantly. The Order also did not realize that there were spies like her who were doing their utmost to unravel things behind their walls.

The Dhampir made her way through the city, warily as she passed a troop of guards on patrol. Avoiding them was far too easy in the slums but she knew who she was here to see. It had been quite a surprise to find that someone had been passing intelligence to Druella herself. That someone was inside the city. Fina approached the orphanage and knocked on the door.

The person behind it opened it, sighed and ushered her in.

Fina did not remove her hood, even in the presence of Sasha Fullmoon. The woman who would be the architect of the Fall of Lescatie.

"How are the children?" Fina asked Sasha as they sat in Sasha's private quarters.

"They are all fine. But, anxious at how the city has become such a prison now. No one is allowed to go out at night and there are soldiers everywhere. Even I find it hard pressed to go to the other children."

Fina frowned as she heard the exhaustion in Sasha's voice. She had been pushing herself too hard these days. The Dhampir sipped her tea as she mentally prepared herself for the next question she was going to ask the veteran hero.

"What of this Hunter?"

Sasha seemed to shrink guiltily as she looked into her teacup. "He got into a fight with Wilmarina Noscrim and won. The whole clergy is in an uproar but… I don't think he cares."

Fina felt slightly elated. So Sasha Fullmoon had spoken to the man. "Did you tell him that?"

Sasha looked at her and laughed sadly. "He kicked me out of his home and told me not to speak to him at all." She sighed as she stood up and put her empty cup in the sink. "I… I had taken him into my confidence since he was there at the second orphanage but… I think he did not want to know anything at all about monsters…"

She looked at Fina and continued speaking. "So I just keep an eye on him. He's a troubled man, Miss Fina. I don't think he's looking for anything from mamono. He just wants to be left alone."

"His actions aren't helping him if that's the case." Fina crossed her arms. "If he did beat Wilmarina Noscrim then that is kind of worrying for everyone who was involved."

Sasha agreed with that. "He's planning on leaving the city if the attack goes through. I would let him if I were you."

"I know…" Fina said. "My friend… she… she met him one night and things had changed with her, I… I hope she's okay when they send her to Sabbath."

Sasha looked over at the Dhampir, who sighed sadly underneath her hood.

In the end, sometimes plans never go right.

The city was under assault. Cyril could hear the fighting outside, the ringing of metal. The screams and moans of those monsters who found their prey. The battle cries. It was a cacophony of noise that would have driven a lesser man insane. For the Good Hunter it was just background noise, noise that he just shoved aside as he opened the door of his house and closed it behind him for one last time.

In one hand he held his Saw Cleaver, in the other was his pistol. The small hand lantern he used was buckled onto his belt. The sky had darkened and over the city he spotted a full moon. The encyclopedia said that monsters enjoyed the night. Cyril Sutherland did not, for the moon was a constant reminder of the great burden he bore on his shoulders. The Holy Moonlight Sword was something he was saving, in case a really big monster came at him.

The secrets of Yharnam would die with him. That was his charge, and it was best that no one should learn the truth of that faithful night. Cyril locked the door and tossed the key into the bushes. He thought sarcastically to himself that he should get someone to house sit for a while as he was not sure how long he would be away from this home.

The Hunter turned around, sensing someone behind him.

"I've found you heretic." The man in the long coat and hat spoke as he drew his sword. "Your death has been brought to you by Inquisitor Alaric Brandon. Repent and I may make your death quick."

Cyril didn't even bother with a verbal reply, swinging his Cleaver with such speed the Inquisitor barely dodged the strike that would have separated his head from his neck. The Hunter strode forward, weapon raised as his opponent charged him with a war cry. The movement was perfect for an ordinary swordsman, but it was predictable to a man who had faced an eternity of nightmares. To kill a man like the Good Hunter would require something more than faith in a god and a sword in hand.

Cyril fired his pistol just as the Inquisitor swung down. The bullet tore into the man's gut, causing the Inquisitor to stumble onto his knees and gasp. Swinging his cleaver down one handed, Cyril's Saw Cleaver bit deep into the man's body. The Inquisitor gasped in pain as he looked in disbelief at the brutal metal blade that had carved into his chest through his shoulder. Cyril yanked the weapon out brutally, before swinging at the man's neck.

Inquisitor Alaric Brandon had lived his life honorably, serving the Chief God as an agent of the Inquisition for ten years. His career, and noble life, ended in the slums of Lescatie at the hands of a man who would butcher his way through men and monster alike during the dark days of the invasion. He would not be the first victim during the days of the invasion.

The Hunter let the headless body stay there as he heard the ring of steel grow closer. He could smell blood and magic in the air, among other things as he heard the ecstatic cries of monsters. So they had managed to get into the city proper.

The Good Hunter let out a breath into the coming night.

The Hunt had begun.