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A lonely hunter was the only one at the scene, his blade went through the motions of combat and it's forms, his stance and poise were the work of what looked like many years fighting, he displayed a clear mastery of his style that could put most adventurers in Orario to shame.
He wielded a bandage covered greatsword too big for his size but to a great mastery, and at both sides of his waist there were the two daggers that formed the blades of mercy.
His regular garb was hidden by a long feathered cape, it was dark as the night sky that now no longer hides Yarnham's true cosmos.
"You... you have been training for a while now, you are passing the point of diminishing returns..."
"Is that so master Gehrman?" the hunter inquired.
"I belive that you need to put your skills to the test once again, the hunt beckons it's hunter after all..."
"I suppose so, then i will head out i just need to make sure that i prepared myself."
The hunter felt confident, perhaps he could be able to achieve more progress, or perhaps end the suffering of Lady Maria...
He gathered his tools and items, preparing for the battle to come, gave his quick goodbye to the doll and ventured once again into the damned clock tower.
"I'm back... i suppose you already know what it's to come."
The only other "person" in the room was the woman, who quickly responded.
"You are yet to give up on your curiosity... that is something... other hunters would cower in fear already."
"I have been training..."
"Gehrman has taught me as well... yet you believe you are going to defeat me with the same technique i too mastered?"
"Perhaps, i have planned enough to do so."
The young hunter rushed forward, bringing his greatsword low to the ground and raising it in crescent shape, the huntress was quick to dodge but that wasn't unexpected.
He dodged the barrage of thrusts coming from the tip of the Rakuyo while mantaining relative control of his movement, a blessing that should not be taken lightly in the heat of battle.
He tried his best to guide the battle towards the inward face of the the clock tower, leaving his back towards the giant mechanism embedded in the wall.
The hunter had learned the importance of his tools while under Gehrman's guidance, many were quick to disregard them, Maria was one of them, Bell however, was not.
He made use of the slight incline near the wall and rolled to the side as her blade swept through the air, exposing her back to him for a split second.
A split second that he took advantage of, taking a delayed molotov from his belt and stabbing the metal spike in the huntress' shoulder blade.
Then, running his open palm along his blade and activating the true form of the holy artifact that he received from the old hero and hunter Ludwig.
As she tried to take the explosive out, she realised that she had fallen for a trap she had never seen before, Gehrman was of the opininon that delayed molotovs took too long and weren't worth the trouble.
"That wasn't taught by him."
The hunter did not respond, only threw another wave of light right above her shoulder that stopped her from taking out the ticking time bomb from her body, it was an unconventional tatic but effective to regain the tempo of combat.
However Lady Maria was not to be outdone by such crude methods, she jumped towards him, fallindown on a roll that, despite pushing the explosive's spike even deeper inside her, brought her near Bell when the bomb went off.
The shrapnel hit him right on his torso, Maria was not any better, having definitively dislocated her shoulder and feeling the burn aroumd her back.
As she forcefully set her shoulder straight, Bell jabbed his chest with the sweet blood inside the vials he carried, however, to his dismay the relief that followed the use of such marvels of medicine was nowhere to be seen.
His knees felt weak, and he fell to the ground, his veins were on fire he could feel the burning all around his own body. his eyes couldn't focus and his sense of smell was filled with the scent of blood.
"Oh dear, loosing one's self to blood already? perhaps Gehrman was wrong to trust you after all..." She said as her arm raised her weapon.
"N-no... No... Not... NOW!" He grasped his Evellyn with a trembling hand and shot himself on his left tigh.
The sharp pain seemed to have calmed him down for now, however one thing remained the same: Blood vials were no longer an option, if the beastly scourge was so eager to take him into it's grasps then he shall put up a fight before going.
"Oh that is most intriguing... not interested in becoming a beast?" Her mockery was as sharp as her weapon, but a hint of surprise still lingered on her voice.
"Perhaps... i still have some fight in me!"
"Then by all means, fight!"
Both were back to their deadly dance as the sparks that flew from the encounters of their blades were still bright in the air.
Bell fought with a new increased ferocity, brought by the despair of almost loosing himself to the scourge, were he not able to finish the hunt, all of what he endured would be for nothing, and he may forever be bound to the nightmare he was slain in.
Blood stained steel met with an ethereal metal that seemed to fall out of the heavens, a legendary sword, wielded by a line of heroes and inspiring a generation of hunters, against the slender blade of a murderer, a cruel reminder of the church's unsavory sins and the reason of it's owners suicide.
"That is the extent of your strengh? you forsaken all technique in favor of a feral charge?"
It really looked like it, but Bell knew better, this opponent was far more profecient in weapons than him, but he could use it to his advantage.
"Fight like a hunter, if you wish to prove yourself capable of what beckons your sweet curiosity."
Bell was once again silent, seeing as the damaged he made was slowly creeping up on her.
She finally realised it and decided to use the technique she hadn't in so long... Plunging her weapons into her chest she channeled her control of her boiling blood, just begging to burst into flames.
"Bloodtinge... you really are a relative of Annalise..."
"...I have long since left cainhurst..."
The fighting stopped as Bell let his greatsword fall to the ground where the messengers picked it up, grasping at what seemed like nothing revealed another little one holding up his chikage.
"So did I"
"You wield the weapons of the church... despite being a vileblood... how curious..."
"I'm no Vileblood!" Her words struck a particular sore spot for the hunter, either way their clash begun.
Blood met with blood, steel no longer sung as their blades were were coated in the viscous red liquid.
They danced through the room as their blades met, though Maria always suspected it, she learned that speed and dexterity were indeed his strongest aspects.
Eventually Maria realised that her opponent has changed, she fought against him many times, but now he was focused, he was getting better in between attempts, he was feral, and no longer hesitated.
His strikes were fast but had a fierce strength behind them, he was no hookie hunter before, but now she saw the face of a true hunter, reckless and cold, adept in the art of killing.
Gone were his previous weaknesses, and now all that remained were the eyes of a predator. blood stained their pure white hair, something both had in common, their clothes were slowly falling apart as slices and cuts threatened to damage their attire, that is when it happened.
In her blood there was something far worse than many would have realised, the true strenght of a Vileblood comes from it's ichor after all...
Crimson flames started to flow from her attacks, she had much more control over her bloodtinge than Bell he knew that and decided to sheath his chikage for now.
Pulling a short sword from his waist, he quickly divided the blades of mercy, intending on using even more of his extreme speed, this time no longer hindered by the toll that manipulating blood has on one's body.
The attacks became quicker to compensate for the time and stamina he would spend dogdging the fiery slashes and thrusts.
Bell took advantage of the time she took to recover from her attacks and dove below her rakuyo, bring both blades of mercy down on her leg in an "X" fashion.
Bringing her to one knee, he wrapped his right arm around her neck and thrusted his left through her back and ribcage, grasping whatever he could and making sure to twist his arm around, maximazing his damage.
She was left gasping for air as she could feel the remains of her left lung, though she herself was a corpse, she could still pain and her natural instinct was still as sharp as the ones she'd adquired from the hunt..
Bell still was focused on bringing her down, summoned the messengers and had them bring his greatsword.
He swung downwards and caught her spine in the middle, putting furtber pressure in he could hear the faint snap of her bones as the weapon finished her off.
"...My last words of advice... whatever ... you do... you must not see... what is on the other side..."
She finally drew her last breath, free from the nightmare and of her body, which exploded into the mist that usually took a hunter to it's rest, leaving behind only her weapon and another object that resembled the clock's face, he grabbed it, lit the lantern that appeared and dissapeared to the dream.
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"Gehrman..."
"Back so soon hunter?"
"She is free."
"Gone from the shackles of this horrible nightmare... good for her..."
"Yes, she left behind her weapon too." He showed him the masterpiece of a sword.
"Use it, it's yours now..."
"Very well, i shall."
"What is your next objective, hunter?"
"To seek a definitive end to this nightmare... Altough..."
"Hmmm?"
"No, it's nothing..."
The hunter made his way past Gehrman, passing through the calm enviroment of the hunter's dream, only stopping at the stair near the doll, who quickly realised something was amiss.
"T-the scourge almost took me..."
"G-good... Hunter... Please... hold strong, the night is nearing it's end... i can feel it... just hold on a while longer."
"I-I... I will..."
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The horrifiying visage of a cursed village spread across the horizon, a faint rain came down from the grey clouds, the desolate houses were flooded by the salty sea water, and the storm at sea raged on.
Bell traversed the unfamiliar hamlet, inhabited by horrifying fish-like beasts, born from the depths, chanting curses for the old hunters, because there laid the secrets of the church, and the origin of the hunter's nightmare, Simon once said, "We, are cursed by the sins of our forefathers." But he never understood it, until now.
He was forced to slash through the bodies of horrific beings, resembling the sea monsters he once imagined as a kid. But now, he was stuck at the lowest point of his existence, the corpses of children, man and woman alike, littered holes on the sand, their skulls cracked open in the search for insight.
Those who survived, became mad and chanted along with the rest, transmogrified into the horrors of the murkiest seas.
He read about the experiments on papers from the research hall, came across a few who spoke of them, although calling them people after becoming bags of flesh and brainfluid is hard.
But nothing compared to what become of this once quiet little village, tucked away in a remote corner of the land, overlooking the sea.
His wandering about came to an end, when he met the dying Simon, the friend who he promised to help end the nightmare.
"Oh... please, is that you Bell?"
"Simon!"
He quickly got on his knees trying to inject the hunter with blood, only to be reject by the man's hands.
"My time has come... yet you can finish what i started... end the nightmare once and for all... take my Bow-blade... end the the orphan's suffering, and the beastly hunter's reign of terror..."
"Beastly hunter?, Simon who is he?"
The dying man responded the question, with his last dying breath.
"His name is Brador, an old colleague of mine... and also... my killer..." The hunter stopped breathing, leaving behind his beloved bow-blade, a weapon he ordered custom from the church's workshop, to resemble the hunters older times.
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Greasy fur covered the man's body, a hunter wielding a massive mace of blood, almost like the chikage. The scent of death and beast clung to him, as he himself used the scalp of a dead cleric beast as some sort of hood, a gruesome trophy that would scare to death most of Yarnham's civilians, that is if Yarnham still had civilians left.
"... I know you... i've met you at the holding cells..."
"Yes, you did, and you did not follow my warnings, just like that harrowed hunter..."
"Simon..."
"Enough with that... it is time for you to die."
The mace got bigger with contact to his own blood, but it was crude and inefficient, he would collapse long before Bell would when wielding the chikage.
Bell defeated Brador with relative ease, he was on par with a veteran hunter after all, but the bastard managed to get away, ambushing the hunter whenever he could, be it through narrow bridges or abandoned houses.
Eventually in one of those ambushes Bell had to take refuge inside a ravine, wooden platforms were constructed to provide passage as large amounts of fishing equipment were stored there, descending to the bottom of the natural storage room he found thousands of pale slugs on the floor, piled up as if they were the haul of a particularly successful fishing trip.
He met Brador in a tunnel that connected to the ravine, this battle however, was the last for the hunter, who could not run away in time, resulting in the death of the church's last line of defense against those who wished to see it's most secret and unforgivable sin.
The white noise of waves reached his ears, as did the scent of the sea, it was unfamiliar to him, he never saw it back in his life at the village or if he did... he does not remember.
The last stretch of the tunnel was difficult to traverse, as hundreds of creatures stood there bowing towards the end, they were pale and looked grotesque, their lower body was that of a slug but their upper body was no different than a normal man, except their skin was not human
As he left the cave system, he found himself at the beach, where a gigantic body laid atop the murky sands, the carcass of a great one, a profane secret that the church hid for too long, the origin of all hunter's suffering.
He felt dizzy and almost weak, he couldn't bear to stare at it too long, but that feeling was quickly thrown to the side as his instincts went into overdrive, all around him an aura screamed death, and the fog which closed his exit condemned him to face his new opponent.
From the profane body there was movement and from a hole inside it crawled out something terrible, the kin of a great one, the Orphan of Kos.
His appearance was that of a man, yet his skin was white and a vicous liquid clung to his body. A long organ of the body was stuck to his hand as it used it as a gruesome weapon, however one thing was clear, this opponent was stronger than all he had faced before.
He was vicious, in a way made apparent by his strikes, an absolute frenzied beast. He jumped through their beach side arena while throwing pieces and parts of the organ he stole from the body.
The Rakuyo helped him parry some strikes, and his aim with the bow-blade was pivotal in punishing the distance, the battle was exhausting, but fast paced.
Bell soon got a particularly crippling hit on the orphan's leg, as it felt to it's knees, Bell took advantage of it and prepared for a visceral, however, he never did it, for as he was about to pierce it's torso the beast screamed.
It had a surge in power, it's muscles were pulsing as white light emanated from his body, whatever piece of foreign skin he had hanging from his back now danced in the wind like a cape.
There, Bell learned what true hell was like.
Being thrown around like a pebble, Having to grasp his own health as he fought to rally it back against the monstruous being whose origin did not belong in any place in Yarnham.
His breath was not steady, his limbs screamed in pain, his conciousness begged to just fade, yet he pushed on, fighting as the fee viscerals he could perform healed his wound through the sheer amount of this unnatural blood.
Bell threw his last molotov at the beast barely making it flinch, but as it did, the hunter got just enough time.
He jumped at the orphan and stabbed it with the blades of mercy, having to leave both still attached to it's back as he rolled on the ground and shot two more blood arrows right into it's knees.
He used the opportunity to quicken forward and with a heavy overhead swing of the Ludwig's famous sword...
The sickening sound of flesh being slashed open sung through the muddy beach, as he brought his sword down on his prey.
The pale body of Kosm's kin stopped moving, putting it's soul to rest. The blood echoes within the great one's veins flowed into Bell as their sensation overtook him.
It was sweet and sour, a delightful mix of pain and pleasure, his wounds were closed as the powerful ichor echoed in his veins, however, as great as it felt, it also horrified his rational mind, who forced himself to close his eyes and focus on what little thoughts did not revolve around the sweet thirst for blood.
After controlling his urges, he inspected the scene of the battle, finding the dark spirit of Kosm, still clinging on to the nightmare, Bell did as he set out to do and granted mercy to the fallen great one.
As he did, the very fabric of the nightmare collapsed, as he too was taken back to the hunter's dream, this time with the echoes of ancient beings beyond that which even the gods of his land knew.
There, when Bell asked the Doll to channel his echoes, she had a worried reaction.
"G-good hunter... I can sense it in you... the ancient echoes... they are stronger..."
"Is it bad?"
"Perhaps, but... no, no they are not."
"I don't understand..."
"It is nothing, they are just stronger that is all..."
"Hmmm, very well then, I'd like to put them to good use..."
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A black and dark sky stretched itself over the open road, a group of fearless hunters travelled along it, their destination was still far ahead of them, few road blocks stopped them untill now...
The blue haired goddess which led the group had spent most of their time staring at the weapon wrapped in cloth that laid in her hands, the form of the object made what it was perfectly clear, a spear.
Not just any spear, the arrow of her beloved Orion. A pure soul, one which, in her own opinion, could not belong to any man. He died many years decades ago, when she still had recently descended.
She hadn't entertained the thought of building an actual relationship with him then, and certainly did not now, at least she conciously tried not to.
Those same thoughts were distant in her mind but still lingering, still she had work to do, as the group passed through a particularly open space, a small shelter amidst the trees of the forest, she called out to her children.
"Okay everyone! Time to set set up camp!"
The leader shouted, still putting up the facade of strength to her followers, yet she was still having doubts about the mission.
She gave the spear one last gaze before setting her sight to her familia, happy to see them working together.
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That is it for this chapter, a bit shorter than I would like but it is what it is, I will also say that I am cooking up something for Artemis, as i just forshadowed in the last few chapters, Untill next time.