Praying for the dead didn't exactly leave me feeling better, but I felt like I'd done at least something. I didn't relish leaving the corpses here for other predators, but I couldn't burn the bodies and burying them would do little to nothing considering the beasts and crawling things that rooted around down there. Stepping into the windmill through another hole in the structure, I could see the mechanism terminate at the top, rotating with the gentle breeze. Through yet another hole in the opposite side of the building's ceiling, I could see a strange, squat tower. Unless there was a glut of similar towers, that was almost certainly the place where Valtr was waiting, and that meant I just had to descend the windmill and find the elevator out back.

The interior was dark, but at least nothing else snuck up on me. I wondered if the dearth of critters in here was related to that Abhorrent Beast's presence. I knew that was what the man had been: Gehrman's descriptions and the disjointed memories and instincts carried by the echoes all fit. It wailed of persecution even as it committed the most atrocious acts. The hatred in those red eyes, in that disturbingly human face… I'd felt that same hatred, that same rage in my victimhood. Was I doomed to turn out like it had?

The elevator was set into a recess in the cliff, a carved-out little miniature cave. Much like the rest of Yharnam's lift systems, it had a panel in the center that you stepped on to operate it, and the lever outside was solely to call the elevator if it wasn't already there. I supposed it was convenient if you didn't have a spare hand, but it was still strange. The gears ground as the elevator shot upward, finally clinking into place at the top. There were a few short flights of stairs leading to different platforms, and at the far end stood Valtr, beside that same barred gate. He stood with a casual air but he held a familiar gun in his left hand – the same blunderbuss that Gascoigne had wielded – and a simple but brutal-looking truncheon in his right. I could see something resting on his back, presumably something similar to a Kirkhammer's head.

"I don't have the energy for more games or sarcasm," I muttered, trudging up to him. "Just unlock the fucking gate."

He clucked his tongue from behind his helmet. "Sad to see that fire gone from you, Taylor. Has your fighting spirit left you after a simple trudge through the Woods?"

"I've got no patience for this," I snapped at him. "I just dealt with an Abhorrent Beast."

The change in his demeanor was instant. Valtr briefly stiffened and I could feel him appraising me, seeking falsehood in my statement. Then his shoulders slumped and he reached over silently to unlock the gate. Next, his hand came to rest gently on my shoulder. "You need to talk about what happened. Else it'll fester." His voice carried the bitter bile of someone who'd seen exactly that.

"This place is...is evil," I shuddered, feeling tears bead at my eyes. "I came across a village that I thought had some red light bathing it… It was blood. The center was a trap, I fell into a spike pit. There were so many people there, their faces contorted in terror and despair…" I babbled the rest of my experience in the Woods, eventually reaching the Abhorrent. "He'd been eating them – stripping a child's corpse bare with his teeth! And he talked to me so pleasant and gentle…" If I'd been more jaded, more cold-hearted, I might have excused his actions. Maybe even invited him back to Oedon Chapel…

"Aye, the beasts who can hide their true selves are always the worst. They take what it is to be a person and twist it, show you everything dark inside yourself. You feel the pain, and the fear. You think, 'That could have been me'." He chuckled softly: my reaction must have been somehow easy to read. "Yes, lass. The same happens to me, every time I'm unlucky enough to encounter one."

"...How many?" I couldn't fully articulate the question. I didn't want to admit there were multiple.

Valtr reached up and scratched under his bucket-helmet. He took a moment to answer. "...Four, five? I can't remember exactly." Another chuckle, this one far more maudlin. "Perhaps the worst thing about being a hunter is that all of the horrors you face eventually bleed together, and even the most horrifying moments start to mix."

"You've been a hunter for a long time, then?" At least I'd managed to get my tears under control.

"Near on two decades," Valtr replied. "Nearly all of that was spent hunting vermin, working to purify the corruption that lurks in all humanity and proliferates in filth," he nearly spat.

"And...you think these vermin make beasts?" I was trying to follow his train of thought.

"I would it were so simple," Valtr huffed lightly in longstanding frustration. "I've found vermin within mad doctors, inhuman monstrosities, beasts, and blood-maddened hunters. They're found most often in the mad, so while I cannot prove it, I suspect that vermin drive their hosts insane. Of course, it may be that they are drawn to evil and acts of madness, and are simply found in the mad due to their attraction toward the atrocities."

"I...didn't see anything in the Abhorrent before he dissolved," I hedged.

Valtr simply waved off my concern. "I'd have been surprised if you did. The capacity to naturally see vermin is a rare trait indeed. To date I'm the only one I've met with that ability, and I'd not recommend an attempt to duplicate my acquisition of such," he chuckled a little throatily, sounding more predatory now. "However, that should not discourage an aspirant to the League."

At some point Valtr had holstered his weapons, likely when I started to cry. Now he leaned casually on a cane while his other hand fished in his pocket and retrieved an ephemeral sand-dollar. "We of the League have our own Caryll Rune: Impurity. Those who attune themselves to it can see the vermin that writhe in the filth of humanity." His voice was taking on an almost rapturous quality now. "Those of us who've seen enough of these wretched beasts, freakish slugs, mad doctors...we who wish to sentence these fiends to death find companionship and aid within the League."

If he was telling the truth, this was potentially very important. "What else can you tell me about these vermin? What do they look like, what do they do?"

He snarled softly. Just talking about these things apparently got his hackles up. "Horrible, writhing things that crawl in human filth and in the corpses of the irredeemable." He held up his fingers. "They range in length from this–" He indicated around an inch, "–to this, or even longer." Nearly a foot. "Somewhat like a silverfish, these things look insectlike but not quite. Even were they not found in a corpse's veins, just to behold them is to know they are fundamentally wrong, evil. They writhe deep within all filth, and are the source of human corruption. The League exists to hunt out and crush all vermin, that human impurity might be expunged."

Valtr paused, taking another breath and letting out a sigh. "I acknowledge that this may be an ultimately impossible task. A scant handful of hunters against human impurity itself. But it is our moral duty to do what we can to free humanity from this evil. It is a blood-soaked and thankless crusade, I'll not lie. Do not expect the world to grasp our work…"

Everything I'd seen, the blood, the monsters, the magic… The Abhorrent Beast and the Darkbeast, a mobile pile of bones? I could believe that there were creatures inside people that fed off our worst impulses and drove us to be worse still, so these parasites could have a meal. I accepted the rune. "I'll memorize it when I can."

"Then it pleases me to welcome you to the League, Taylor. Once you have destroyed enough vermin, I will count you as a proper confederate." He hefted his cane. Rather than the looped gaffer-style head, this one terminated in a crossbar grip much like the threaded cane. "Every confederate bears a League Staff. Within such," he flicked his thumb on the grip and popped one end open, revealing a roll of parchment, "is a scroll. It contains the names of League confederates, as well as where one can find the various stores of equipment that we have scattered across Yharnam and its surroundings."

"Speaking of locations," I pivoted, "I'm trying to make it to Byrgenwerth. Could you tell me how to get there? I hear the paths change, but…"

"They do," Valtr nodded. "The Woods are a good place to cut your teeth as a new confederate: they're teeming with vermin. I suspect the vermin may be responsible for the changing paths, though that might be attributing too much to them. All that said, the main path is typically consistent if not straightforward. Typically it wends through the Woods, placing a traveler in danger as often as possible. However, going off the main path can be lethal in its own right." He looked me up and down again. "You may be strong enough to survive taking such shortcuts, but if you know not where to look for your academy, then the main path is still your best option."

"Have you ever been there?" It didn't sound like Valtr was one of Gehrman's contemporaries, but still…

"Not once," he replied confidently. "Just getting near the Graveyard outside of the academy, it makes my stomach roil. Not simply the turning when faced with the wondrous corruption of the world of man: there is something fundamentally wrong at Byrgenwerth, and nowadays I am only one man." Valtr sighed. "Prior, I had always reassured myself that when we had more time, my confederates and I would cleanse Byrgenwerth. I knew it would require a squad of hunters at the very least. But now the League is mostly dead and I am not quite the hunter I once was." He looked past me once again.

"What are you looking at!?" I snapped, already growing upset that he was essentially saying he wouldn't accompany me.

"I know not," he replied smoothly. "And isn't that an enchanting experience. Here, in the festering corpse of humankind, we can easily categorize the monsters we face. Beasts, hunters, animals, inhumans. But something like this, why, I've not had such an alien experience since I first came to Yharnam! And how further delightful that it feels non-hostile!"

I worried my lip. "...Can you describe it?" I hoped I didn't sound as desperate as I felt.

"Not in the least!" Valtr seemed oddly pleased with that. "I can only get the vaguest of senses, from a life spent facing the unnatural. It...or, rather, she...loves you."

I crashed into him, clutching the clasp on his cape. "Please! I need to know more!"

He smoothly swept his arms up and slapped my hands away from his person. "You've been in Yharnam long enough, Taylor: knowledge can only come safely to those who have sufficiently suffered. I barely know what I am experiencing, and I'll not curse myself nor you to satisfy your impatient curiosity. Now," he swiveled and directed me out of the gate and toward the lantern. "Off you pop. Memorize our rune and then return on your quest. Your mysteries will reveal themselves when the time is right."

It was a good idea. My emotions were still rampant after my experience with the Abhorrent Beast. I retreated to the Dream and ended up resting in that side lounge room, weeping as I commiserated with Doll and Gehrman.

I'd noticed that Gehrman was more open to being around Doll, presumably for my sake.

Once I'd steeled myself, I returned to the Woods and back down the elevator. The Woods were less swampy here, more rough and dry dirt with endless scraggly trees looming over everything. I encountered more snake-infested huntsmen, and even a...creature? I don't know if I should refer to it in the singular or plural because it was a collection of snakes in a hateful little donut! I'd heard stories of rat kings, where rats would live together in such piles that their tails would grow together and fuse. Was this a snake king (as opposed to a kingsnake)?

Sadly, I shortly thereafter encountered a monstrosity that better deserved the title of snake king. It was another mass of snakes, but these ones were about as broad as Valtr! The central serpent, biggest of them all, could probably swallow me without needing to unhinge its jaw. It was also...wrong. It's hard to put into words exactly what was wrong with it. The top of its head had thick plates more like a dinosaur or Godzilla; and below its beady but far too focused eyes was a collection of strange growths, rather like boils or blisters; and...strings of flesh, or scales, that dangled like vines or Christmas lights. I couldn't even safely keep my distance because the goddamn things spat venom in huge purple globs!

My only saving grace was that it didn't strike as quickly as a normal snake. All of that bulk and those growths seemed to slow it down: I could actually bait a strike and then retaliate. I shot the monster in the mouth with my new cannon to discourage it from spitting, then baited out its bites to counterstrike with my extended saw spear. I caught it with the very tip of the saw spear, using the weapon like a scalpel to slowly bleed the thing. My presumption of these being somehow conjoined was proven correct when the main head finally bled to death. The entire mass of snakes collapsed in on itself and dissolved.

As it faded away, I saw something vile squirming in the odd bubbling fluid left behind. The way it squirmed and flopped was instinctively, viscerally disgusting. It triggered not a fight-or-flight response (that had almost universally become a fight response for me) but a hate response. I utterly despised this thing, and I needed it dead! I lunged forward, raised my boot and brought it down with a satisfying splat and crackle of some alien exoskeleton.

Broken and dying beneath my boot was a vermin.