A new chapter of The Hunt Beyond The Dream! No particular delay for this time, only three weeks.
Writing time is getting shorter with my new student job at the immoral clown Ronald McDonald (studies, food and lodging must be pay), which reduces my possibilities. The chapters will keep their quality, no worries but I might be late with the publication.
So! Bagrat's question which was very interesting!
The first Arc of this story is finished with about 60 000 words. I have planned two more main Arc for this story of 40 000 to 50 000 words each, which would give a main story of about 150 000 words.
But to this, I have planned to add secondary arcs, whose purpose is to develop the relationship of the characters outside of the fighting and the advancement of the story. Each of these small arcs (which will have a use for presenting abilities etc...) will be around 30 000 words.
What starts now is one of these secondary arcs whose purpose will be to develop the main relationship of this story between Ashton and Aiz.
An another information that could be interesting for some, my beta reader NoY, planned to publish a story. It's still in the beta stage and won't see the light of day for another month or two, but since he doesn't plan to create an account on , he asked me to post it on my profile and talk about it here. It would be a RWBY story that would go off the canon path and make it a massive AU. That's all the information he gave me.
The usual reminders, I'm not English, only practice it as a second language, if there are mistakes, tell me, I will correct them.
I won't hold you any longer and I wish you have good reading, and we'll meet at the end.
Chapter 14 : Hunter Can Save.
"What happened to him?" she asked, getting out of earshot of the boy who had dozed off.
"The Apollo Familia rejected him after the loss of his two adventurers and sent some of its members after him so that he would not talk about his dark little secrets." he growled with a rather surprising venom.
"So, he's wanted?"
Ashton squinted his eyes showing himself in a single moment more aggressive.
"By the Apollo Familia. Did you have in mind to give it to them?"
The elf reacted in a calm manner, calming the situation.
"I never implied it, but I wanted to know if you knew what you were getting into."
Calming down as he noticed her overreaction, Ashton sat back with a sigh.
"Into some dark shit by associating myself with the Gods' problems... They're not much of a threat anyway. If the three were from his Familia, they weren't a danger at all."
Ryuu nodded, complementing him on what he didn't seem to have noticed.
"Apollo won't risk attacking you openly, especially since you're training with Aiz of the Loki Familia, it would work on the territory of another god. Besides, you are not part of any Familia, which limits the possibilities to attack you indirectly and the Hostess is protected by so many adventurers that there is little risk.
The hunter whistled impressed; he did not expect such things to work. Politics among the gods seemed to be difficult, but for once, the links created by chance and without wanting it was of great use, more than he had imagined.
"Cold manipulation and power plays are sometimes more useful than reality," he quipped to Ryuu as the elf simply shrugged.
"Apollo is stupid but not suicidal, he won't send his children, especially his favorites, to their deaths under the guise of shooting down a simple supporter who's a little too supportive."
"I should be fine, but the question, what do I do with Karl."
The two looked at the drowsy boy, the wounds had been partly healed by Ryuu's magic but there were still large red and blue marks on several places on his arms.
"If I leave him, they'll slaughter him..."
"Can't you take him with you?" suggested Ryuu.
Ashton shook his head.
"That would be difficult, I go down to the lower levels far too regularly, it would be suicide for him."
"The other solution would be to find another Familia to protect him."
The hunter groaned at the idea of asking for help from a god. Ryuu sighed as she saw the conflict on the young man's features. She had long understood that he had a grudge against the gods but was still unable to understand the reason for it.
He said something that surprised her.
"How does the support system work?" the hunter asked.
"Are you really going to take it with you?" she asked in a surprised tone.
"I don't really have a choice... I don't see myself sending him back to a Familia after what he went through, I don't know any anyway."
"And you distrust the gods..."
"Exactly, so I'd rather not have anything more to do with them. Apollo is more than enough for me."
The elf sighed, dejected, before explaining.
"A supporter is the carrier of a group; they are people who explore the dungeon with adventurers. They carry many things, from magic stones left by monsters to weapons and spare items. Their role is to retrieve everything that is left behind by the monsters so that the adventurer is not tired and can do it cleanly and quickly. They sometimes help in combat, but in general they know all the particularities of the dungeon very well to inform and advise the adventurers as well as possible."
"Pfffioooo."
Ashton let out a loud, impressed hiss. It reminded him of the scribes of the Church of the Remedy who played a similar role. Quite a few characters with a skill that was no longer to be proven, when he had met one of them, he had only been able to bow to his overall knowledge of the beasts. If the supporters only had a quarter of half of their knowledge and skills, it would already be something extraordinary.
His respect for the under-appreciated role had gone up several levels and his overall view of Karl had increased even more.
"They make up for their poor fighting skills with valuable logistical help," the hunter summarized.
The elf nodded satisfied that he was understood.
"Impressive and far above what I expected."
"You don't seem to be expecting much," Ryuu said.
"This allows me to always take the situation at its lowest level and be positively surprised when things go right. Never expecting anything means never being disappointed." he explained.
His lips curved upward slightly, as did the waitress's, who could only agree with such a pragmatic way of life.
"What do you plan to do with him then?"
"For now, give him a supporting role so he can survive, we'll see later."
"Won't he get in the way during your raids?"
"We'll see, in the meantime, given his condition I don't think he can do much."
"It will take him at least a week or two to fully recover from his injuries. The Apollo Familia didn't miss him," she commented bitterly, looking at the swelling on his right cheek.
"It doesn't matter where." growled Ashton. "Another god abusing his power..."
"It's not always the case... But some are... Evilus for example."
To Ashton, it was obvious that she was concerned about this.
"The lack of consequences, the need to have fun, the boredom, all drive them towards this need to hurt each other and use their powers and authority..."
"There are exceptions." repeated Ryuu, "They only do what they want to do, some try to help people and show and guide them to a better life, and others seek entertainment and do not care much about people or other gods, and they sacrifice people's lives and lead them to ruin and do not care about it. They are arrogant like the Evilius group gods."
He couldn't prove her entirely wrong. Kos was not fundamentally evil, in fact none of them were completely evil... They were all selfish, envying humanity for its ability to procreate.
Like Faust in Goethe's play, he had signed a pact with a far superior entity to get what he wanted... It was his choices that had led him to enter the hunt and fight. He had been trapped without being trapped, and in this, like the Old Ones, the hunter envied the adventurers for having a real choice and paying a price that seemed less to him.
"You're right..." he relented, surprising her. "I'm letting my bitterness get the better of me..."
"That's okay." she half-smiled. "I've been there too. I've..."
"No need to give me any information." he cut off. "You didn't push on subjects that are sensitive to me, it's only natural that I do the same."
The tacit understanding between the two was enough, they had each had their stories of suffering with the gods but did not need to talk about it to understand each other on a point so common.
Ashton spoke again.
"So." changing the subject to something less sad. "How much should I pay for a second room?"
Ryuu laughed in amusement before stepping back behind the counter.
"Still the same price."
Ashton closed the door behind him leaving the boy to rest. He was still unconscious and would remain so at least until the next morning, given the painkillers Ryuu had given him. A long sigh escaped the hunter as he headed for his own room, he felt exhausted, the day hadn't been long, but it seemed so now...
At least he had gotten the black crystals he needed. He took them out, examining them, checking that they were identical to before. No cracks, no particular marks... Everything was in order.
Concentrating his mind, he caught some of the aura emitted by the stone, feeling an energy similar to the blood echoes, but also different in nature. It was softer, less nervous, and bloody. Where the echoes were an uncontrollable torrent seeking to break through the dam to increase its capabilities, the crystal was more like a constant trickle weakening the dam and eventually passing through the holes in the barrier.
Less effective, but also less painful.
He was conflicted, on the one hand he hated pain, hundreds of deaths had taught him not to pay attention to it, but it was still painful, on the other hand he knew it was the best way to evolve.
"Shit..." he grunted before letting out an ironic smile. "Am I really missing hell? I miss the simplicity of Yharnam..." he muttered as he collapsed into the chair.
Why was everything so complicated?!
"No need to think about it. In any case, there are no echoes of blood around here."
He slid his knife across the palm of his hand, gorging the crystal with the delicious crimson liquid. The energy flowing through his body was soft, warm, and soothing.
Each of the three crystals felt like it was slowly filling a bottle that would eventually be corked, the best way to represent the levels he thought.
Three crystals had barely filled an eighth of the bottle, it wasn't much, but it was something.
"One step at a time, you'll walk better next time," his father used to say when he played the violin.
Now he had to continue in the direction he had chosen, maybe not the right one, but his own and his choice.
Choice... A word that sounded so strange, yet so pleasant. Since he was in Orario, he had had more opportunities in one month than in his whole life.
He should feel happy, but all this freedom scared him.
Five in the afternoon, still relatively early. Ashton thought he would be back later, his sense of time was disoriented by the dungeon, something to take care of, or a watch to buy. Was he even making any?
He would see...
His senses were alert, Ashton watched every movement around him, looking for potential members of the Apollo Familia. None were nearby, or far enough away not to threaten him, but a certain agitation had developed in the streets as the Monster Feria approached, making surveillance more difficult.
The event was to take place in three days. The excitement and anticipation throughout the city were reaching him in part, making him want to attend the festival.
"Let's hope everything goes well," he thought.
A rather surprising discovery of this world was its technological mix. On the one hand, it had gunpowder, but did not use it as a weapon and even considered it dangerous, on the other hand, almost all adventurers practiced magic and its derivatives in one way or another.
A palpable irony... Gunpowder more dangerous than magic... Putting it in a hunter's context, arcane weapons were far more harmful to the body than pistol and rifle bullets, Byrgenwerth's students could attest.
The whole demonstration in Ashton's mind only served to ask one question, how did he have clocks and watches but no other technologies using the developments of the wheel?
Where were the beginnings of the industry? When he had inquired, his conclusion had been simple, magic and monster crystals. All technological evolution had been based on the two points.
This world was a massive step backwards from anything Ashton knew, an unnatural mix of feudal, renaissance era with industrial spikes in some areas, all driven by magic.
He rubbed the pocket watch in his hand before slipping it into his coat.
If he was being logical with what he already knew about this world, he assumed that some of the technology came from the dimensional travellers who landed in the dungeon. This would explain the presence of a part, seemingly cut, of some objects.
Well... He would think about it later, other things demanded more attention. Like simply buying the kid some clothes and a gun.
It didn't matter which way Karl would go now, he had to get him back in shape.
"Why am I so concerned about his well-being?"
Two answers came to him instinctively. The first, and most logical, was that his young age reminded him of Alexander, and the second was that he felt guilty about the way Apollo had treated the youngster. He should have known what was going to happen to him, but he didn't care.
Not that it would put much of a burden on his expenses to buy materials.
As he walked out of a store with a new set for Karl in his bag, he looked again at the gun stores on the street.
None of them caught his eye. Their best weapons were good, even by a hunter's standards, but most lacked that characteristic appeal that separated the good from the excellent.
As he wandered between the stores, he realized that he had arrived at Babel, the tower entrance to the dungeon. According to his memories, there were stores upstairs.
It might be interesting to check out the weapons present.
"What are you doing here?" the swordswoman asked, surprised.
"I just came to buy a new weapon for someone."
Even though he doubted the young blonde woman would give the information to the Apollo Familia, he wasn't nearly certain enough to inform her of Karl's situation.
Aiz raised an eyebrow, the hunter did not seem to have many friends and even less one requiring a weapon. She decided not to ask more questions and walked over to see the sword he was looking at.
"Nice weapon, but quite fragile," Aiz remarked.
"Also... there's nothing excellent in this part of the store."
"If you go upstairs, there should be more choices."
"Seriously?" asked Ashton, turning to her. "I didn't know that."
The blonde shook her head, remembering that he wasn't from Orario... where was he even from? A town called Yharnam, according to her memories. She would have to question him more later.
The elevator opened to the various stores.
"This place is quite... rich..." said Ashton with a hint of annoyance in his voice as he stepped out of the steel cage.
The 4th floor of the Tower of Babel was filled with classy weapons stores lining the entire hallway. Beautiful gilding and sometimes even jewels covered the colorful storefronts, drawing the eye.
Although she was used to it, Aiz was a simple person and could recognize the excessive amount of time spent creating a form the place. Fortunately, the background was also qualitative, which compensated and made the biggest part indispensable.
Aiz watched intently as he approached one of the displays to examine the weapon that lay there. A heavy axe made of lightly gilded metal, the gold cover seemed to indicate more of a ceremonial and decorative weapon than a usable one.
On the other hand, a dark spear seemed to emanate flame energy, runes had been carved along the handle and the tip of the blade.
Beautiful weapons, but far from appreciable by the standards of any adventurer smart enough. If she was to be honest, Aiz didn't really know what most of the weapons in the entire store were. She had never really bought any equipment here herself, everything she owned came from custom orders made by blacksmiths of the Loki Familia or the Hephaestus Familia. Only the best of the best for my favourite said her redheaded goddess.
The blonde looked at her sword Ariel before hastily following Ashton by noticing that he had moved away towards a weapon.
After more than forty minutes of wandering the floor, the hunter spotted an interesting vi-trine. Inside was a very particular weapon in its design, a kind of machete whose edge had been hollowed out to add teeth. Quite similar to the general shape of his saw-cutter, although much less pronounced and softer in its form.
A weapon clearly used for light combat, perfect for an inexperienced supporter in close combat.
Ashton had thought about the fact that the boy might not want to return to the dungeon. But either way, the weapon could be used to defend himself in the streets. The Apollo Familia wasn't going to let him go, and if he couldn't defend him, he would have to do it himself.
Karl... Why did he still have that feeling that he had to come to his aid?
"Shit." he thought. "I'll think about it later."
Always putting off feelings and duties, an unhealthy habit picked up by a person who was just as unhealthy.
The gun paid off, he saluted Aiz before walking away.
A strange attitude, not coming from nowhere. The mists of the past engulfed his mind, leaving his body to slacken in his bed.
In a dark alley, a boy stood with a knife in his hands. The long night spires of Yharnam covered the sky, hiding the sun in the lower reaches. An old, decrepit violin rested on the back of the small figure as night fell slowly.
A small metallic glint came out of Ashton's torn outfit, but he hid it in the shadows of the alley. An infernal gurgle escaped from his stomach, it had been two weeks since he had had a real meal, and his performance of music during the whole day had only brought him barely enough to pay for a single meal.
Alexander was weak, the priest who had come had said that he could save him in exchange for money, a lot of money that he no longer had. When his parents had died, he had had almost nothing, he had been left on the street, the plague was spreading, leaving death and destruction behind.
Everywhere was burning.
Places beyond the horizon were burning too. The sea was right next to the city, but the flames did not stop engulfing the once glorious palace.
Inside the diabolical fire, all living beings, including their bones, were uncivilized. The flames flickered high as if it was about to burn the sky.
In the midst of the flames walked a man, in grey garb, wearing a steel crown, he advanced with disdain.
Behind him, a second man, wearing red armour stained with the blood of his enemies, followed him.
He wore a nonchalant expression on his face, as if the flames did not exist. He wore a light outfit and seemed to carry a long sword at his waist and a bundle on his back. This macabre bundle of several severed heads was oozing with blood that was already almost completely drained.
Walking calmly along the beach of fire, they finally stopped.
The man looked up and shouted loudly.
Towards where he was looking, a green dragon of light poured down upon the city below.
While its colossal body was as big as a mountain, it only turned into a greenish mist as it hit the ground.
Amid the chaos and flames, Ashton held Alexander as close as he could. One of the shapes calmly emerged from the mist, dressed in ragged and torn clothing, the ghostly figure raised its hand covered in rotting flesh and pustules toward them.
He had seen him, the rider dressed in green followed by white with red and grey in front. He had felt his touch near him and had not been able to avoid it. He looked at his black veins and shivered. Nobody would believe his madness; the four horsemen were only a distant and forgotten legend.
Then he heard someone enter the alley, an old woman, probably eighty years old. She walked with difficulty with her cane and carried her groceries, but what Ashton saw most was the purse hanging from her belt, a small purse that was still quite full of the noise.
Slowly he crept up behind the lady, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the lack of shoes on the cold, dirt-covered floor of the street. Despite a stone sinking painfully into his pulpit, he made no noise and came close enough for his hand to reach the small purse.
The old woman turned around at that very moment, looking at him with a surprised look.
"Kid? What are you doing?"
Ashton pulled the purse; the old woman raised her cane in a defensive gesture. In that instant, as the piece of wood encountered his arm, leaving the sound of his bones cracking, the young boy understood.
His free hand moved reflexively, reaching for his weapon. No sense or logic, the quick reflex of a cornered and desperate animal.
The blade pierced the throat of the old woman who tried to scream. Ashton, in panic, tipped her backwards. His great age prevented him from stopping, and he heard the crack of the leg. Caught up in the madness of the moment, he brought his blade down again and again and again until he could not feel her move.
Wheezing and panicking, he staggered back and fell on his buttocks, putting his hands on the ground. What had he done? Had he... had he just killed someone?
N-No. He just wanted to steal her; it couldn't have gone that badly. The dead body in front of him must have been an illusion. He tried to wipe the tears forming in his eyes but felt a strange pasty substance as he put them on his face.
Blood, it was blood on his hands. The poor boy looked at his own hands with wide eyes, realizing what he had just done.
"Madam," he called to the old woman.
She didn't move.
He tried to push her with both hands before he saw his knife, still stuck in the old woman's throat.
"N-No... Dad... Mom... I... I didn't mean... No."
He withdrew the blade and tried again to force the lady to her feet. She was already dead, but he didn't want to admit it to himself.
Footsteps were heard at the beginning of the street. More and more panic came over him and he grabbed the blade, quickly pulling it out and ripping the purse off.
"The case of my violin," he thought, not wanting to leave any evidence.
His rational mind had taken over, mechanically ordering him to do whatever he needed to do. When a small group of five or six militiamen reached the place, there was only the corpse. Or so they thought.
Hidden in a recess in the facade, Ashton's small form stood tight. Fear, despair and panic kept him from whimpering and crying.
Think about it later," he ordered himself.
The first habit in a long list of bad habits.
When he came to his senses, he was standing still on one side of the street, leaning against a building. Passing people only glanced at him before moving away. The commotion and noise came back to his ears.
"Shit... Shit... Shit..." he muttered as he wiped the sweat from his face. Why did he have to remember all this now?
It had to be a way for his own mind to keep him awake, away from the temptation to let go. Ashton had flaws, he would be the first to admit, his lack of social response, his definite lack of restraint in his opinions and his stubborn resentment of others. But what he would never admit to being was stuck in the past, on old actions he had committed and regretted...
At least he convinced himself every time, but now that it was coming back to haunt him more and more regularly, he wasn't sure. The doubts, the fear, the distress was starting to take over again now that the environment was different.
He could push it away as much as he wanted, it would not leave him. He decided to head to the guild to sell some of his harvest from the previous day.
"A quest?" asked Ashton a little surprised at the receptionist.
"Yes!" she said cheerfully, handing him a paper. "A team of adventurers disappeared in a small village west of Orario during a monster subjugation, so we need to send someone to check on them.
Ashton raised his eyebrows suspiciously.
"Why me, and at that, alone?"
Eina's smile tightened slightly.
"We don't have anyone to take her, and you said you were a hunter so you must be skilled at tracking? Besides, everyone heard what you did in Bete, you have the level for something like this."
The young man felt like whistling and taking her back on her role as a hunter. No one really knew her role anyway, so... what was the point of taking her back?
"Um... I need to see the information before I accept." he asked.
She handed him the piece of paper. The quest was not difficult at first sight, a group of five adventurers had not given any news for three weeks, on a mission that required only one to be completed, the guild was worried and sent someone to check, and find them if necessary.
The reward was not very high, which seemed to be the norm for a job outside of Orario.
"If I refuse it, will someone take it."
Eina's already tense lips did so even more, so much so that Ashton even believed for a moment that her face would split like one of the priestesses of the Church of Yharnam. That was enough of an answer for the Hunter.
It seemed that even in another, much gentler world, selfishness, and lack of altruism remained. Ironic that a hunter of hunters would question the idea of helping others.
"We don't save."
Gerhman's one sentence came back to his mind. It wasn't untrue, but here a hunter was going to have the opportunity, if not to save to do an act devoid of the usual purpose of hunting.
"I'll take it," Ashton said, putting the piece of paper back down.
"Thank you! Thank you!" repeated Eina with a genuinely relieved smile. "Nobody wanted to take it! Then! If all goes well, you'll be home just before the Monster Feria!"
He didn't dare to tell her, but besides this seemingly laudable objective, the real reason was da-vantage pragmatic, he simply wanted to change air, to get away from the joyful atmosphere of Orario and find some of the tension of Yharnam to forget his nightmares.
"I'll leave tomorrow, right after the doors open."
Ashton crossed his arms and hummed to himself thinking about what to pack.
"Time to restock on items you might need?" suggested Eina.
"Yes and no, I have to train someone this afternoon," he said to the woman still busy validating the quest.
"Who?!" asked the half elf with an interested look.
"Aiz, a member of Loki Familia." replied the hunter nonchalantly, missing the shocked re-guard of the receptionist. "Otherwise, do you know of any stores that sell tool-making components?"
"Which ones?"
"Spirits, cloth, bone powders, steel shards, infused papers, plants and me-tal pods."
Eina found herself surprised by the number of questions she was suddenly asked. Taking a moment to collect and analyse all the requests, six of the requests would be easily found at the merchants, but infused paper? It had to be some sort of magical tool.
She cleared her throat to keep from stuttering as she spoke.
"If you're looking to find materials, try the market area, more like the forges and merchants. For anything related to enchantments, try one of the floors in the Tower of Babel. They might have what you need."
"I see. Are you finished?"
"Uh... Yes! Here."
He grabbed the sheet, checking what had been marked before nodding contentedly. It always surprised Eina how many emotions the young man could convey without anyone seeing his face.
Ashton was out of the guild when a man approached the receptionist.
"Did you give him the quest?"
"Yes... But why did Lord Ouranos want him to have it so badly?"
"I don't know." the hooded man said simply. "If he has decided it, I can only obey."
The figure who began to walk away was stopped by a question.
"Is he... is he safe?"
"I don't think so, Miss Eina. According to Lord Ouranos, if he stays safe, everything should be fine."
The half elf always worried about the adventurers she had met could not help but expect the worst.
Ashton walked quietly through the streets; his plans changed. Obviously, he wouldn't have the opportunity to go down to the dungeon for a while. It was unnerving for a hunter to know that he wouldn't be able to kill for days on end. But the idea, as much as it disgusted him, didn't seem as difficult as he had originally thought.
One more proof that Orario had softened him up. The general atmosphere of the city, the calm, the joy, and the many people moving in the streets were the complete antithesis of the cold and silent alleys of Yharnam.
Inwardly, he hoped to encounter threat, just to get the soft feeling of a fight to the death on his skin. The modified Goliath and the strange insectoid creature had been the only things that had given him that feeling, not nearly as drugged as in Yharnam.
But for now, the most important thing was to warn a certain swordswoman.
Why did he have to worry about warning her?
He didn't know, but he felt the need to do so...
Glad to see you still here!
This chapter was the transition between the two arcs.
Let's be honest, I don't understand why in most Danmachi fanfictions there no chapter about the outside of Orario is, at least about the monsters outside these walls. Certainly, the dungeon is central, but there are quite big possibilities on a world development.
I wouldn't claim to use them all, and especially not to dwell on them much, but my goal would be to make a few sides arc chapters about quests outside of Orario to let you see some of what's going on there.
The chapter is finished, we'll meet in two or three weeks (maybe a month) for the next chapter.
Take care of yourself, your family, and your loved ones!