Usual reminder, I'm English, so if there are mistakes, tell me, I will correct them. Fanfiction is a hobby, and although I try to publish every two weeks, a chapter can be late and can be shorter than usual depending on my motivation and time available.

And finally, please be respectful and kind in your reviews, it is more pleasant for everyone.

A chapter will arrive late, as usual for the last month and a half. Especially because of my hand still injured, which is slowly healing, and the resumption of the university arriving in addition to work.

The next chapter will also be a few days late for the same reasons and will probably be if this one.

Well, I won't bother you any longer about my problems and leave you with the chapter.

Chapter 10 : Everything starts somewhere.

"Crazy people can survive what the world says is suicide. For beyond the pain, beyond the obsession and wild despair, some find the right path in the midst of chaos and incipient anarchy. His men take the true place that knowledge has given them. They take the title of Hunter."

Some in Yharnam knew this allegation as the Law of the Ancients, others who knew its author preferred to call it the Truth of the Fool. Regardless of who said it, madness was the residue of things too terrible to be named and experienced by men.

For the hunters, this was both true and false. When death was running away from them, what could they do about it?

Another difficult night awaited the young hunter. The nightmares became more and more frequent as he got used to sleeping. In that sense, he missed the sleepless nights in Yharnam.

Ashton was running across a huge, empty plain. A heavy rain hid everything around him. Only the rapid sound of his running through the mud broke the stillness of the downpour. All around him, shadows were chasing him relentlessly.

He didn't know why he was running, or even why he was being chased. What was sure was that they did not want him well.

"Where do you think you're going?" a loud voice echoed around him.

He looked up to see the pale reflection of the moon shining through the dark clouds. It was so beautiful but also terrifying at the same time. The solid black sky made it seem even more terrifying.

"Please. Someone helps me!" a voice shouted from behind him.

Ashton turned to see a figure being swept away in a torrent of storm-fed water. The young man hesitated for a moment, not seeing the figures behind him, he decided. He ran as fast as he could towards her and reached out his hand trying to pull her back.

The rain and the mud under his soles made him slip with the person.

"Look at me," commanded the form he was holding.

He followed her command and froze in terror as he noticed a face covered in mold. In panic, he tried to let go of the hand but was pulled forward by the beast. His face came up to the water.

No... It was not water. The red color tending to black was that of blood. The strong smell of death surrounded him. Ashton tried to push back, but his lack of grip on the ground prevented him from moving properly. His hand fell on the spot where his sword should be. When he put his hand on the hilt, he felt the same sticky liquid on his fingers. The blade slipped away and then decomposed on the ground.

He wanted to try to move to understand, but he froze in silent terror. Human and beastly faces emerged from the river breathing their virile breaths.

"Come with us!" sneered the thing that held him, dipping its entire arm into the black blood.

Hundreds of hands grabbed him. For a moment he thought of stopping the struggle. After all... didn't he deserve the punishment? He had killed so much that it would be fair to suffer for it. He closed his eyes.

The faces smiled as he felt the resistance subside. They were taking him further and further into the abyss. Hundreds of voices echoed. One was more noticeable than the others.

It was an old and exhausted voice. A woman who, although he had never learned from her, had participated in many hunts with George: Eileen the Crow.

"A hunter should hunt the beasts. Let me hunt the hunters."

Who was she talking to? He didn't know, but it reminded him why he had done everything he had ever done.

The honor of standing proudly? The small glory in a cause he was defending.

No, because someone had to do the dirty work. So that the hunters wouldn't have to worry about spilling the blood of their own and focus on their role.

No regrets about the killings. About the purges in certain neighbourhoods. The hunt was like that. If the whole arm had to be cut off to save the rest of the body, it would be the role of a Hunter to do it.

His role in addition to that was to be the sentry, the shadow hovering behind each hunter.

He was what he was. A Hunter's Hunter.

His eyes opened wide. His free arm reached forward and grabbed the face of one of the creatures. A cold whisper escaped from his throat.

"You're just a nightmare.

He tightened his grip more and more, crushing the flesh of the monster's temples. A cry of pain echoed in the air. Waves came back to him in uninterrupted streams.

"Damn it! Where is the Healing Church?! I can't see them! Shit, I can barely breathe and..."

"Shut up! You want to give away our damn location?! Shut up and stay hidden!"

The men's voices were muffled under their cloth masks. The smog, smoke, and ash all around them prevented them from seeing.

"Holy shit, fuck!" Shouted one of the men, throwing a pair of goggles at his face.

"What do you think you're doing? You know those bastards are going to advance, even in these conditions," asked the other man, constantly pivoting with his heavy rifle to examine his surroundings. With the surrounding noises, the cries of pain, the silver bullets whizzing through the air and the incessant noise of the flames he could hardly hear his comrade. The reddish smog and the burnt houses gave the mysterious impression of being in the mythological hell.

"Fucking burning! Where the fuck is the backup?!"

"It shouldn't be too far. Shut up and follow me!"

"Should be? You mean you're not even sure?!"

"You want to take the lead? I'll let you go if you want, but with the city on fire do you think it's easy to find your way?!"

A powder explosion hit a nearby tree, forcing both men to duck and look around. Fueled by adrenaline and the fear of death, they began to accelerate toward the place where their only means of survival would be waiting. The sounds of battle slowly died down and the wind began to blow again. The two survivors knew what this meant. Although it terrified them, they feigned ignorance.

"Hear you?" Asked the man taking point.

"Hell yeah I hear it," replied the other man. The sounds of battle may have almost disappeared, but they could now hear the sound of footsteps from an allied force heading their way.

Ahead of them, several distinctive Powder Keg fighters were approaching.

"Who are you?!" roared a tall man standing at the front of the group.

"I'm Frank! I'm with you!" shouted the first.

"What's going on?" the man asked as he quickly approached them. "Why aren't you fighting?!"

"We couldn't hold out. The beasts... there were too many!"

"Shit!"

The hunter looked up at the blood red moon floating in the sky. In the ranks of the hunters, a pair of shadows were advancing.

"What do you mean you didn't keep up? What happened?" the new form questioned.

"N-No! They assaulted us. Beasts, hundreds of them!

"Were there hunters?" the man continued.

"Yes!" replied the second. "Some of our people turned."

"Good... So we have some work to do."

The man in the black outfit had a pure white raven mask on his face. Behind him, the retreating form of Ashton could be discerned holding his long saw-cutter.

"Ashton. You cover my back."

The younger man nodded without answering, fully deploying his cleaver. Without waiting they dashed through the flames toward the fighting.

No sooner had he disappeared than another explosion of gunpowder hit the front of a building, collapsing the storefront.

"On the side!" roared the first, pulling his friend back.

"Thank you!" said the man who had just been saved.

"I'm not going to let you die a stupid death. If we die here, we die here fighting," said the second man with a smile.

"Fuck. You were right. I should have apologized to her before I came here."

"There's nothing you can do about it now. Try to be less of an asshole in your next life, okay? I'm tired of supporting you everywhere we go..."

"Fuck you, bastard."

"Sorry, bro, but it's the truth."

They both tried to lighten up with their usual humor, but all they could manage was a frightened smile and half-hearted giggles.

"Take cover! They're coming!"

The two survivors prepared their weapons and used the collapsed buildings as cover. They had cooled down enough that they could lean on them without getting burned. With a little luck they would make it out... at least... pretty much unharmed...

They heard what they didn't want to hear. A sound. It sounded like a horde of elephants charging forward. The ground began to shake, the sound of stone slabs covering the street shattering echoed around them.

A line appeared in the sight of the soldiers still alive. There were so many of them and so close together that their individual bodies could not even be distinguished. It was as if an intense red wave was moving toward them.

Even with the heat of the environment, with the burning bodies and scattering stone, the enemy's forms were far stronger than their destroyed surroundings.

"I'm scared, man."

"So am I. That's why we're going to kill as many of these shits as we can before we get through."

The shapes grew larger as the enemy got closer.

With fingers ready on their triggers, they said their last silent prayers and... fired.

The first enemy line collapsed, blocking the second and preventing it from advancing.

"Fuck yeah! Motherfuckers!" Shouted one man, but the celebration was cut short.

"Hostilities spotted! Finish them!" Shouted another man.

While the initial firefight had destroyed most of the approaching enemy forces on the street, some still alive, were approaching even with half their bodies destroyed.

The initial fear that had gripped both men faded. The Powder Keg was in position and had put down its distinctive weaponry. Rifle fire, explosions, and cannon fire flew by. But, for the two hunters, the most motivating part was the flames and the dancing shapes.

Hunters of hunters were doing their macabre work on the unfortunate hunters who had allowed themselves to bleed. But most of all, they saw the young figure of a boy, raise his cleaver above his head and slash it violently at a mother holding her daughter.

No, they weren't just cleaning up the hunters, but all those who housed the downtown area.

The distant memories of a blazing hell faded away.

Why should he blame himself for what he had done to Yharnam when he was one of its most ardent defenders? Should he feel guilty about the heresies and murders committed by the Church of the Remedy? For the burning of Old Yharnam?

No. He was only a pawn among many others thrown for selfish reasons into the heart of a nameless madness. The hellfire of that fateful day haunted him but would not stop him for so little.

He could never forget. However, moving forward seemed better than staying frozen in a past he could not change.

The flesh under his cracking fingers seemed to melt, the desert, the river of blood, everything began to blur.

The black sky, the rain that made his clothes heavy, and the sulphurous smell of the flames of Old Yharnam went away.

Ashton felt his body turn in his bed. The second sleep state he was in made him feel light, free of a weight. In the moments before he woke up, he felt calm.

The questions that had plagued him during his time in Yharnam became clearer for a moment.

Who was pulling the strings? He didn't know and didn't care. Why had The Healing Church abandoned the people of Old Yharnam? It didn't matter.

The only answer he had was simple: Move on, adapt, evolve, and continue the role he had chosen to wear.

He was a hunter of hunter; they had done what he had to do... But what had been the price.

Ashton dangled his legs in front of him and squeezed them with a low cry.

For Ais, her vision of the world was simple and unambiguous, she needed to get better and better to go lower and lower in the dungeon. Despite many battles in the Deep Floors, she felt that she had to do better, that she had to go further. The Rubicon had not yet been crossed and she was having difficulty crossing the line that held her level.

She stood on the ground near the young hunter.

Her dark form hidden under her usual dark cloak seemed slightly calmer and more composed than the day before. When she struck the training dummy, the hunter sighed, shaking his head.

"I'll say it again, you have strength, but you fatally lack techniques to advance against human adversaries... You're too brutal and violent in your attacks to really use what your teachers taught you."

Aiz gritted his teeth, it wasn't entirely untrue. Her entire combat arsenal was based on the de-pass and the powerful attack that prevented the enemy from retaliating. Gareth and Finn, who had tried to teach her, had never been able to overcome her habit and her fighting methods.

By Ashton's standards, she was an excellent swordswoman when it came to frontal combat. Much better than him or most which would place her as one of the best he had ever met, except for the knights of Cainhurst Castle. But her flaw was based on this superiority, she lacked adaptability. Ashton could see that the sword woman's constant training had proven itself, making her excellent with her sword.

"The basics are solid, even excellent and very hard work," he said. "We should not have too much difficulty to start on a more advanced fencing and techniques out of the brute force.

Despite his partial mastery of formal fencing, Ashton had learned the basics by simply using his sawed-off cleaver. The rest came from repeated use of his secondary weapon against certain opponents, who in absolute terms were more reactive than the beasts.

"One of the most effective methods of reducing distance in a case like yours would be to rely on solid support."

To give him an example, he took his stance. Ashton slid his own sword into his hand and closed his grip cleanly on the hilt, keeping the weapon close to the hilt keeping nearly half the pommel empty.

He moved a step forward, shifting his body to the left and then to the right simultaneously, the hunter took two more steps that allowed him to close the five-meter distance between himself and the target in an instant. His sword struck the piece of wood violently and it vibrated under the impact.

The quick attack was like what he was already producing with his saw-cutter, it allowed him to regain his position, and opened up all the possibilities of secondary movement.

"How?" asked Aiz, his eyes glistening with interest.

Ashton nodded contentedly.

"Simple." he said, stepping behind her. "Foot forward, a firm grip on the sword."

After taking the stance, Aiz tried to replicate the move. Her body - at first started at a good angle - slipped to the side as she tried to put all her weight on her right leg. She had put too much force into her hand, taking it to the side.

"Difficult." she muttered as she stood up, kicking the dirt off her pants.

"It's an attack, counterattack." the hunter informed her as she approached. "It requires a lot of effort and practice, but can-do considerable damage once properly mastered. The only thing is that you must correctly gauge the force of the impact so that you don't get swept away.

A slight smile broke the empty features of his face as he noticed the princess of the swords taking the position again. Memories came back to him of a time when he looked like her.

"Drill is one key of success. Hand further away from the guard. Be careful not to put too much force." he said before she launched herself.

"Like this?"

"No."

He moved her hand and forced her to hold her sword firmly.

As she thrust, a thought wandered through his mind. Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as he thought.

Two hours had already passed. Ashton pushed the adventurer further and further forward, forcing her to rehearse the movements he had taught her on the dummies. The unfortunate pieces of wood and straw had been destroyed and were now just scraps barely holding on.

"It seems that you are getting better at controlling distance and your own strength," said the hunter after she had managed a full strike.

"I see. That's a change from my usual method," said Aiz.

Ashton nodded.

"That's the point, having multiple strings to your bow makes it easier to take on each situation."

She held up her thumb in a salute of understanding.

"Could we move on to a one-on-one fight?" she asked.

"How so?"

"If I want to improve, I need to challenge opponents stronger than me." she explained.

The hunter scratched the back of his neck.

"If you don't want to, that's fine," Aiz continued.

Ashton sighed.

"It's not that I'm against it, but I tend to have a hard time holding back. In view of what your goddess told me, I'd like to avoid having to face your entire Familia..."

Aiz grimaced, she had asked Loki not to come and threaten him, even Riviera had told her not to, but she had gone anyway.

Sometimes she wondered how childish the redheaded goddess could be about her wishes.

"There won't be any problems," the blonde argued. "Loki swore to me that she wouldn't do anything."

It was a shameless lie, but the only way the swordswoman had found to convince the hunter. The hesitation could be read in his body movements, he finally sighed.

"Are you sure? I don't want any contact with his bastard..." he corrected himself immediately. "Gods."

"Of course." she said, pretending not to have heard the slip of the tongue.

"Then stand on the other side of the field," he conceded.

To anyone who would now enter the training ground, a rather amazing scene would play out. The sound of blades making contact, sparks flying, and the heavy, precise sounds of footsteps on the ground showed a picture of a tough fight.

Aiz shifted to the side just in time to avoid Ashton's downward strike. She tried to reposition herself by putting her sword in front of her.

Ashton, not a fool, had backed off several steps to a safe distance and kept the advantage of his weapon's reach. The Princess of Swords understood the strategy and closed the distance with her opponent.

In a wide gesture, the hunter swept his weapon horizontally forcing the young woman to slow down.

Just as she was about to enter the area where she could reach him, the hunter flexed his muscles and propelled himself backwards surprising the knight; she had forgotten he could do that.

Unable to continue her assault, Aiz prepared a parry to intercept the fighter.

Ashton, who had regained the field, seemed to move slowly to the left. The Princess of Swords, who now knew the movement, turned her sword and stopped the cutter, causing a steel squeal that forced her to back away. The hunter, waiting for a mistake, took a step to the side and threw his weapon directly at his target's neck.

The vicious teeth of the closed weapon stopped just inches from the Knight's skin.

"Good, but still not good enough," said the hunter, stepping back. "You rely too much on your brute strength, and lack the speed to react to your opponent's changing tactics." He reattached his cleaver to his leg and looked at the sun, it was around noon. "Training is over for today."

The young woman moved and collapsed on a bench on the side of the field. Her breathing was wheezy as she took long breaths.

"Will I do better?"

Ashton nodded, slightly pleased by the reaction.

"It's your training, not mine. It's up to you to keep it up and get better. Any questions before I go?"

A question that had been nagging at the girl since she met him.

"I wanted to know..."

She hesitated. Ashton shrugged before encouraging her.

"I'll answer if I can."

"Why do you hate the Gods so much?"

The hunter fell silent, simply standing there as he looked at her. The exhausted, defeated face she had seen before returned. Finally, he spoke in a surprisingly bitter tone.

"I thought I'd said it before... I don't know if I have... My memory is faulty on some points... But let's just say that the gods have taken enough from me that I don't consider them good.

Ais raised an eyebrow, confused. That hadn't answered her question at all, it was too vague. She wanted to ask more, to get him to explain himself properly, but she found herself unable to.

She felt that he was carrying a lot and would not answer more. Who was she to force her gaze on a subject that did not concern her?

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Ashton shook his head before smiling slightly. It was little more than the tips of his lips lifting but a very big change as to his usual self.

"That's okay. Everyone has things they don't want to say."

When the two separated. There was only one thing on Aiz's mind, she was exhausted. Not so much physically as mentally. Ashton had put every part of who she was to the test, forcing her to unceasingly alter her methods of fighting so as not to be completely overwhelmed.

One of the few smiles that could be seen was drawn on the face of the stoic blonde. She had made the right choice. Despite the cramps, fatigue and pain, she had something to think about, ways to adapt her fighting style.

"For now," he had told her. "We'll refine your body and mind. After that, we'll focus on your level and the dungeon."

She had to admit that her skills were lacking on that front. If Ashton could help her improve, learn new fighting methods and tactics, it would be for the best.

Even though he could only train her every other day, it was a win-win situation.

When she arrived at her Familia's mansion with a slight limp, she was greeted by a panicking Loki.

"Sa vas Aiz?!" asked the little redheaded goddess as she ejected from the sofa. "That bastard!" she spat as she saw several red marks on the skin of the member of her Familia. "He hurt you?! I'm going to go skin him!"

"Calm down!" shouted Riviera as she grabbed the goddess by the armpits and pulled her back towards the ca-napé. "Let Aiz explain what happened first."

The sword princess looked at the slightly surprised eyes at her goddess' instant reaction.

"Ever since you left," sighed the elf, "she's been untenable."

"What do you mean?" questioned the young woman naively.

"Alone with a man! And who hurt you!" the redhead hissed like a cat.

Aiz shook his head.

"We just practiced... nothing happened."

"What about the welts?"

"When I asked to fight him face to face." informed Aiz.

"Explain." asked Riviera gently.

Loki, who was still grumbling, stopped and opened his ears listening carefully to his favorite.

Ashton had returned to the hostess to get his equipment.

"How was your training?" asked Ryuu as he approached with his order.

The elf had sat down across from him.

"I would say, Aiz is extremely skilled with a sword and is certainly a force to be reckoned with. I don't mean to be rude, but don't you have customers to serve?" the hunter asked quietly as he noticed the customers still present.

"No," the waitress answered stoically. "Mama Mia gave me permission to take a break and talk to you, the others are running the place.

Ashton looked and then shrugged noticing that this seemed to be the case.

"Surprising that you would choose to come and talk to a stranger in a dark uniform," he quipped.

"Stranger who has lived here for some time."

He stood back.

"And I don't regret it. Quiet place most of the time, best bed in years, and excellent food."

Ryuu shook his head with amusement.

"The hostess takes pride in her services."

He smiled.

"And I can see why."

The idle conversation ended as Ryuu returned to work. Ashton set down his cutlery, listening to the quiet of the inn being emptied, it was nice...

"Still enjoying the atmosphere?" finally returned Ryuu.

"Soothing." he said. "Could almost get used to it."

He picked up his cleaver-saw from the foot of the table and hung it up before searching his pocket for the payment.

"Direction dungeon?" she asked as Ashton closed his coat and put on his mask.

"Right, I don't need to lose my touch," he added.

"It's not a day that will make you lose everything..." she informed him, to which Ashton had a painful laugh.

"They say that a lot, but it's with the neediness that the abandonment begins."

"You seem to be talking about life," she said, instantly regretting her remark.

Ashton froze, a heavy pain in his eyes, and looked down before muttering.

"I'd rather not talk about that," he said respectfully.

Ryuu could read the implicit threat not to dig any further, she could understand and just nodded.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be hurtful."

He sighed, regaining control of his mind.

"Let's not talk about the past..."

He left quickly failing to stifle the beginnings of memories.

His path through the streets was slow, slower than normal as he went into his subconscious. He walked under the radar and began to regret the absence of the very strong alcohol of Yharnam.

The image of a boy standing next to him at the entrance to the huge building that was the Church of Yhar-nam swirled in his mind.

"Big brother, is this where they'll treat us?"

"Yes, don't worry Alexander and do as the nice ladies ask." replied Ashton rubbing his head.

A happy smile was present on his features at the time

Then it was all gone... He turned into an alley and loosened his knuckles that had turned white before calming down. Blood had begun to flow from his palms as he took a long breath. He drew his sword, looking at the blade and seeing Alexander's last moments again.

His last pleas kept running through his mind.

Maybe he wouldn't go to the dungeon today... He was too confused to think straight, and a mistake would cost him dearly.

Somewhere quiet and empty would be best. The library would do for not thinking, for forgetting, and for delving beyond.

His instinct led him to the silent building. The smell of dust and paper was enough to soothe him completely and stifle some of the feeling of constant discomfort that was invading him. For once, he did himself a favor and took out a fantasy book.

Fictional stories had always put him off on their surreal points, when one had lived through hell first-hand, it was hard to worry or take storybook characters seriously, but on rare occasions, he would take that guilty little pleasure of reading one.

As such, the book was surprisingly mundane in its first part, telling the usual epic story of the knight fighting the dragon and saving the princess. What Ashton liked about this type of story was the characters that gravitated to it: the squire who sacrificed himself to protect his master from bandits when he was sleeping, the wanderer falling proudly with his ideals while protecting a family.

In the end, the story always came back to the honor and glory of the knight and, without knowing it, showed the hypocrisy of his own story, showing an epic quest littered with deaths more significant and glorious than its hero.

A useless analysis for a simple novel but relieving the spirit of the tired hunter, reminding him of the meaning of his role. He was finally close to the wanderer walking a road and already knowing its end but following it tirelessly aware that they would meet others like him who would walk by his side and finally, when he would fall, the others would take his place.

A smile broke his features and he looked up. It was still early; the neediness had been enough. He had a path to follow and accomplish, no turning back now. It was time to get his act together and take his role.

Nothing particular to specify on this chapter, it seems to me that everything is already well enough explained by itself. Just that yes, Ashton is competent with the sword, but Aiz is better than him and that Aiz's skills are not underestimated but taken from the Novel, where it is specified that she retains her skills against human opponents and therefore lacks advanced fighting techniques.

That's it, I guess that's all, if you want to post a review do it, I read them all and answer them when I can. I thank NoY for helping me to translate this chapter because of my injury.

Take care of yourself and your loved ones and see you in two weeks.