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Nightmarish, truly so, that was Bell's main thought as he ascended Mergo's loft. The One reborn had been a mere pushover compared to Kosm's orphaned heir. He could say the same to the madman that was Micolash...

Although a fight that he would remember for the rest of his life was the one with Ebrietas, the harrowing halls of the orphanage still haunted his mind. It was not difficult by any means, but the sheer sadness and sorrow that emanated from her was soul crushing, despite his usual emptiness, especial courtesy of Yarnham.

To put an end to the abandoned one's misery, did bring some satisfaction, to help others was what he yearned to do, despite the way that his life, if he could even call it that, took.

There is more to the nightmare than it looks, I can sense it...

He wandered around the nonsensical archtecture of the loft, an amalgamation of different halls and rooms that connected to peculiar open areas.

Shadows not unlike those that guarded the campus of Byrgenwerth littered the path. Did I really suffer so much to kill these at first?

Then he found Micolash, who instilled in him a deep burning hatred for those who fought with cheap tricks and no skill to back them up.

Climbing further up only served to present him with the terrifying figure of Mergo's wetnurse.

A cloack floating in the dark, wielding blades as sharp as Bell's and as fast if not faster, still it used tricks to get ahead.

Bell wielded the bow and the moonlight greatsword, a combination that proved itself powerful against the creature.

Slashes and waves flew out illuminating the arena, it did not possesed a physical body yet felt the attacks on it's cloak.

Bell, tried his best to fight against it but it was a drag, it fled at every attack and the came the shadows.

A darkness took over his sight as he was hit by a pitch black wave. Suddenly the number of enemies he was fighting against tripled, but he could see that only one of the three clones was actually feeling his attacks.

He dashed out of the range of a blade, only to be almost skewered again by another, he didn't use any vials since almost loosing himself, he couldn't risk it, so any injury could be fatal.

Still the enemie shouldn't give him any problem, he grabbed the greatword's handle in an unorthodox grip and sent wave after wave into the Wetnurse's direction.

It burned the cloak's ends with the same ethereal glow, despite that it continued it's onslaught, combos that Bell liked to classify in his mind as "multi-hit attacks".

Bell sidestepped each and every slice of the flurry of enraged attacks, only to bring his greatsword down and leave it at his feet for it to be taken by the messengers.

A silver glint shone from his bow as it divided it's blade while the moonlight reflected on it. He quickly pulled back the string and released the arrow of blood that finished the Wetnurse, and along with it, Mergo itself.

As it died, only a cord was left, one which Bell was perhaps too eager to consume... It made power surge in his veins and an eerie sensation of cold and loneliness, although he couldn't help but to think about the infant great one that the nightmare once held.

The child of the woman in the white dress... the Ptherumerian queen was it not? still how old is this thing... Perhaps not even high elfs could outlive it, despite being born out of a mortal woman... That poor wo-

A revelation exploded on his own head, Arriana, how could he have not realised it. The woman was suffering a fate perhaps worse than dying and he could not help her... What a waste of space, a great hero huh, as if not saving the young girl at central Yarnham was not enough, he let Simon die and now might be condenming Arriana to the same fate...

N-No! no! no! no! Please no!

He couldn't think straight, a panic attack washed over him as the condensation of what felt like years of regret and guilt had finally washed over him.

He went in to the dream, ignoring the world as it literally burned around him, quickly jumping to the grave of cathdral yard.

The mist enveloped him, making the world as clouded and obscured as his own mind.

He awakened at the old man's side, being brought out of his panic induced worried frenzy by the voice of one of his oldest friends.

"Dear hunter, Oh by Oedon's grace, Arriana has dissapeared, I'm afraid I could not see her path... Oh god's the night is near it's end please hunter the old woman has already gone mad, save poor Arriana from this fate..."

The feeling of helplessness and sorrow in the old man's voice was enough to break his concentration.

"Very well my friend, please stay put and light more incense, the night is near it's end, you must survive..."

"Of course good hunter... take care Bell.."

He followed the bloody trail untill it led him to the hatch to a sewer like room that gave way into the graveyard, the passage that led him from central yarnham to cathedral ward, all the way back when he first erradicated Gascoigne.

"Damn it..."

He said before descending, the ladder, and finding the fate of one of his only friends...

Blood pooled around her as she laid on her knees, Bell could only guess the origin of the blood as he approached her, seeing a grotesque creature in her arms, her child, a great one too yet, not a creature that should live, as is the fate of the children of the higher species.

"Arriana... I'm sorry..."

She didn't respond yet only mumbled about the madness of the situation...

"Ah ahhaha... a dream... surely..."

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The night was still young when it happened, one of the hunter's few somewhat cheerful memories of the hunt...

"Ah hunter, you have come back!" The old dweller said, after listening to the

"Yes I have my friend, Hello Ms. Arriana!"

The woman only laughed at the hunter's politeness, perhaps after years of working, she had forgotten that people could still treat her with respect.

"Tell me then, does my profession not make you uncomfortable?"

"... I'd say that before yes, but you are not a bad person... Besides..." He didn't finish the phrase, but she knew what he meant, after all, hunters may not be a big part of her clients, but they made their impressions, being almost feral in the act, yet becoming extremely and emotionally vulnerable right before trying to sleep, and even then they would have a hard time falling asleep or waking up two to three times in the night.

She knew that hunters were rather infamous, the glorious profession that parents in all of Yarnham tried to discourage their children of pursuing, yet she could only imagine what horrors burdened the poor kid.

"Bell, you don't need to try and say it, I've 'worked' with hunters in the past... we're not exactly in shining careers..."

"...That is true I suppose..." The young hunter said cracking a small smile, a shadow of the cheerful person he used to be, Arriana held no doubts.

"Either way good hunter, you have done well as to help guide her and the old woman here, a shame that old man chose not to come but you cannot force others here..." The dweller said.

"Yes! I am sure that when the night is over people will thank the saviour of cathedral ward!" agreed Arriana.

"W-what! I'm no hero!"

"Oh please! You carry the sword of Ludwig in your back, the famed Moonlight greatsword! You try to help every single poor soul around the city!"

"I've done things no hero would!"

"Yet you can still dream no? You can still fight tooth and nail to become one... Bell you are the kindest person I know in this forsaken city."

"But kindness does SHIT against a beast!" His eyes immediately widened as he realised his outburst.

"...I'm s-sorry..." His voice was extremely low as he felt the need to bury himself somewhere...

"Hunter, once day breaks I wish to help you, you have problems that will only get worse... You may not want to speak about it but one day you will have to."

"I..."

"Hunter, Arriana, speak of that no longer, while it's true, many hunters do indeed suffer terribly but it's not your fault, for now let's speak only of the good we have, brave survivors, shelter and a hero..."

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The memories were good... the past, as unforgiving as it was, offered him some sort of shelter from the even worse reality of the present..

Arriana no longer responded, only looked at the deformed and horrendous newborn, the rare child of a higher power...

"I am sorry Arriana, though I have been powerless before, I won't be letting you suffer any longer..."

He gently said with a small reassuring smile that went unnoticed, so he raised his evelynn, and with a last sorrow filled look, said goodbye to the poor woman.

*Bang*

The sound echoed through the ward, letting the dweller know the fate of Arriana, gone mad or became a beast...

I better kill the child too... lest it become more problematic in the future...

He brought down the greatsword, and with a sickening crunch ended the life of another god... leaving only another cord that he consumed...

Defeated mentally he left the ward, the dweller understood his mourning, and entered the dream.

His safe heaven, his home in this nightmare... now being literally destroyed in front of his eyes as flames rose from the workshop's foundation.

"Good hunter..." the doll greeted him. "...You did it... the dream has come to a close... Gehrman wishes to see you one last time, before you put this all behind you..."

It was a simple walk, one he was conflicted to walk on... he yearned to be free from the dream... but at the same he felt that he did not deserve this mercy, that he was beyond redemption in any possible conceivable way.

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Below a simple tree laid a field of pure white flowers, blooming forever in the endless abyss of the hunter's dream, the scent of the moon was carried by the Ill formed winds that swept through the warped landscape, ignoring the wooden pillars that supported the skies were the moon hang.

There Gehrman was moved by the hunters efforts, and would grant him mercy as he did to countless others... still, Gehrman like the young hunter more than any other... Perhaps had Laurence been in his place he would never met him, such an interesting hunter... but it would not matter.

As he approached Gehrman, the old man finally spoke:

"Bell... the night is nearing it's end... it has come the time for me to grant you mercy... and for you... to put this nightmare behind you..."

Bell knew what this is... a mercy kill... perhaps one he should take... but deep inside him he knew he would not.

"Gehrman. Could you accept this change?, you have worked for long enough... let me grant the end you deserve."

"I am afraid I would be dooming you to a fate worse than death... Please... put up no further resistence."

"...I accepted my role long ago... But even then... If I can be a hero, Then I will try to."

"I see... your case is most rare... it appears it wasn't the thrill... neither the blood... still, I cannot let you bear that fate..."

He said as he got up from the wheel chair, the moonlight seemed to pulsate from the sky as the hunter stood up from the wheelchair, his wooden leg seemed to shake as he fully set foot on the ground, though that weakness dissaperade as he entered his stamce and rushed to Bell, who sidestepped it.

Siderite blades clashed as the hunters wento on to their deadly dance, One of steel, blood and sweat.

Waves of light illuminated the field, painting green the white flowers, few would hit the experienced master but the few that did were devastating.

Gehrman tried to skewer him with his blade, only to pivot his attack into a low sweep with the shaft of the scythe, trying to stop his movement.

He quickly jumped back, bringing down his greatsword from his shoulder and preventing his advances, though their battle seemed too strategic to a hunter.

It wasn't slow, not in the slightest, but no hunter could go all out against the other, out of respect and hope that the other may see the light.

That period of "peace" however was broken by Gehrman, as he knew that Bell would no longer back down, he went with the full might of the first hunter.

The scythe seemed to vanish into thin air only to cut across the empty space were Bell had quickened from, a brutal and unforgiving rhythm that few adventurers could hope to match, it was a display of technique that none could rival, as shots rang in the cold air while blades met either steel making sparks or the emptiness were one once had been.

The battle was being stalled for long enough, that was the reasoning that went through both of their heads as the blood that spilt from them began to dry up.

However this time, it was Bell that got the upper hand as the heavy weight of the sword managed to break through Gehrman's defenses, Cutting a deep gash into his torso.

Bell didn't let the opening go, he pushed further, Switching to the blades of mercy and carving into Gehrmans flash as the rabbit showed his fangs.

Carnage and blood followed the silver glint of the siderite blades, a brutal and unending combo, the pinnacle of everything that Bell was taught, from the brutality he learned from the hunt, the discipline and resistence from Eileen and the technique he learned from Maria and Gehrman.

By the end of the bloody rush, Gehrman could only say his final words.

"Good hunter... Thank you... Though you now doom yourself... For me..." It was a simple and thankful speech but a proud one, that showed his concern towards the hunter, because now was his reckoning, all his regrets and things he never did would be forever away from his reach as flora would come for him.

Regret, sadness and dread, filled the body of the hunter as he watched Gehrman's final words, his first and last mentor in Yarnham's hell...

He took some time to look at the damage he suffered, calling the messengers he grabbed the ironic bell he got from the choir and rang it, sacrificing his last few bullets to help with his wounds.

But that time of relative downtime was soon to be undone. His nerves seemed to be on fire as a chill rand down his spine, the presence of an entity he could barely comprehend filled the space were so harrowingly waited.

Red skin crawled in the air as the kin of kosm descended into the field, it's monstruous face only complemented his enourmous tentacles that sprouted from it's back.

It enveloped Bell and seemed to bring him closer to the entity, a warm sensation spread through him, a loving embrace, the warmth he lost ever since entering yarnham for the first time... But he knew that it was false.

A fake, a simple attempt at manipulating him one that filled him with a deep hatred for the entity, the one which trapped Gehrman and the doll here.

White light protected the hunter from this great one's mind tricks. Surprised, Flora or the moon presence, dropped him into the ground and backed up, but the hunter did not, whether he lived to tell the tale or finally fall in the hunting grounds would be decided here and nowhere else.

Relentlessly he slashed at the beast, the greatsword was doing the most damage, taking advantage of the creature's size.

Dodging the few tentacles that dared to counter attack, it was rather sloppy, meaning either the creature did not fight much or was not in it's prime by a long shot.

The creature however, no push over, and showed strength whenever it managed to find a small opening.

A last slash was met with air as the creature jumped back and prepared a sickening move.

RRROAAAARRRR

It made Bell weak, at every point at his body, he felt at death's doorstep, as if his strength was stolen from him.

Yet that did not stop him from running to the beast and unleashing his swordsmanship at it, rallying back his strength by sapping the blood that fell from the creature.

It invigorated him, letting him put so much more strength behind his strikes, taking advantage of the deadly attack's recovery time, he went all out against it.

The entity soon realised that it could not fight back against the enraged hunter, as if his power not only overtook it's control but it's strentgh too, as if the hunter was being led into a frenzy by the very blood it shed.

However that was not what fueled him, what did was the sum of all his strength, his resolve that was built from the lifetimes spent hunting and the advice that was given to him by all his mentors, it was the hope that he could be free...

That was the though that ran through his head, as he crushed the head of Flora, the moon presence, though wounded as he was, he could only lay down and accept that his fate was now uncertain, that whatever could happen to him was unfathomable.

The last thing that he could see before the clutches of exhaustion grasped his conciousness was the doll slowly aproaching him, with the same gentle and kind aura that she always had.

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A hazy mind slowly woke up, his body was heavy and tired and his bed felt unfamiliar, he remembered the ceilling and the walls of the room, his room...

"W-what!"

I'm here, actually here... I'm wearing my clothes and my sickness is gone... so the blood must be real then... but why am I here.

Confused he left his bed, seeing that the clothes he wore were tinted by red dried blood.

He paid no mind to it, being only too used to blood dying his clothes deep crimson.

He walked to the window, pulling the curtain back to see the old woods that lay behind the cabin, he could see the old medicine drawer open in the desk that was beside it.

He left the room, trying his best to make sense of the situation, but no one was there, he even debated going outside but his thirst hunger stopped him, that's when he realised that he still needed to eat somewhat, furthering the theory that some time passed between the start of the dream and the present.

Bell wandered a bit around the empty house, hoping to be greeted by the same warm smile that watched over him in his worst days before the hunt. The hunter looked at the picture frames on the wall, his grandfather and him, and another person whose face was not in frame.

He went to the kitchen and found that few food was edible, that which wasn't made to last or rations for the harsh winter was spoiled or in the verge of going bad.

"H-how much time... had I spent..."

Either way he was quick to grab a knife and start working on something to eat.

It was a small and depressing sandwich with little more than some cheese and a small portion salted meat.

He didn't care in the slightest, for a man that spent years without eating, the taste of anything what wasn't mud, blood or sweat was the same as five star course's.

Afterwards he changed his clothes and went to think in the living room, his grandfather was nowhere to be seen and considering the abandoned state of the home, probably not anywhere near.

What is the point of staying here... Either way... if I want any answers my best bet are the gods... Perhaps Orario is my next destination...

He gathered his things, a change of clothes and some food, only then, he went on to inspect the hunting tools of his grandfather, a bow, a few arrows in a quiver and a hunting knife.

He pressed his finger against the edge, drawing a small droplet of white blood.

What the actual fuck...

If finding answers wasn't as pressing as before, it now was even more important.

So he grabbed his new equipment and opened the door to a new adventure, hoping to find his way to Orario with the information he had and the old map that he still kept.

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Despair, death, the poor azure haired goddess seen it all before but it never hit so close to home before, all the good women she trained into such fine hunters, the honorable spartans she raised from the ground up, gone, their bodies now have no chance of recovery, as long as the monster that resided in that damn cave was still in there.

Poor Rethusa and her other girls... Not even a proper burial... At the very least she would soon join them, though not willingly...

The creature's minions, mini black scorpions and other monsters were closing in on her location, they circled around her ready to send her back to tenkai.

One scorpion lunged at her with lethal precision, she couldn't even defend herself as her wounds were just enough to drain her strength, Artemis closed her eyes hoping that nothing too painful would happen, but it never did.

Shot to absolute precision, the arrow flew to the middle of the monster's head, killing it instantly.

She looked around but saw no one, the monsters weren't scared by this and jumped in for the kill.

Time slowed down as an orc from the nearby forest that followed the monster army swung it's landform like a massive hammer, ready to smash her head, but instead of searing pain she found the terrifying figure of a white haired boy forcing his fist through the monster's chest and throwing it around his shoulder making it come crashing down on nearby monsters, and then she saw his face.

Pale skin, deep red eyes that seem to shine at the sight of such bloodshed, and white hair the same color of her beloved moon.

His travel clothes were soaked in the red ichor of his enemies, he unsheathed his knife driving it around the throats of monsters who took part in the mob.

Afterwards he threw it as fast as he could, protecting the stunned goddes from a sneak attack by a goblin whose head laid impaled on a nearby tree.

Another wave came, but a thinner one at that and she then had the oportunity to witness the hunter's aim.

*Thwip, Thwip, Thwip!*

Three arrows zoomed past the nearby trees and dispatched the monster that hid there.

As more tried to pile on him she noticed that his clothes had few cuts or rips, but the parts that did had no cuts in the skin, only the sight of blood.

That wasn't to say that he did not take hits, he did, mainly to save her but she never ended up seeing any open wounds on him.

The monster waves had finally died down, and the lack of adrenaline to keep Artemis' exhaustion at bay threatened to make her pass out, she laid on the bloody grass while her saviour appeared back, finishing the last monster.

"Save your words for later." He said. "I'm afraid I can only do so much goddess."

He approached her and poke his finger with his knife, she was surprised to see the white pale blood that dripped on her wounds, but once it did, it felt good for a moment before she realised that the worst wounds were gone.

"W-what!"

"Please be quiet, lest more monsters appear."

He scooped her up in his arms, carefully before, with one hand, grabbing her spear of the ground.

WHAT, IT'S HIM! ORION... MY ORION!... In my time of need you come back... thank you my love...

Was her last words before drifting off.

What a strange Goddess... but one nonetheless, she may be able to answer some questions... And this spear is interesting too... feels just like the greatsword... if only I could use it again, I need to regain acess to the dream.

Bell thought as he brought the goddess to a safe place, still unsure of whether this was good or not, considering the speed at which danger found him.

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HOOOOOO YEAH BABY that's what yall been waiting for, the foreshadowed encounter with Artemis, the end of the hunt AND the fact that I've skipped Micolash and the one Reborn.