Chapter 112
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It was pouring by the time Francis had finished off the last remaining executioner. He was exhausted and his sword felt heavy on his arm. Taking up such a great number of enemies was a foolish endeavor, worthy of the most foolish hunter.
Fire had helped him create chaos in the ranks and induce the women to fight the executioners which made them lose focus on their main enemy. The distraction he created helped him focus on large groups at a time, killing the crazy women as if he was swatting flies.
What constituted a real challenge was fighting off three executioners at the same time while other women swarmed the place and swung at him with their makeshift weapons. He got out with some minor injuries. By the end of the battle, he was left with two blood vials from the five he had brought with him. A feat he was proud of.
He was sitting in the middle of the circle, now full of corpses. Rain had put off the great fire that arose from the fighting. Calm had come back to the village. "I see you have created a great carnage here" said a voice behind him. The master had come to witness the work of his pupil.
"Not bad for a hotheaded hunter. I think it's high time I gave you a better theoretical lesson about what it means to be a hunter. Let's go back, rain will wash off the blood in the street, but the stench will remain on your clothes if you don't wash them."
As Francis bathed and washed his clothes, his mentor had put a fire by the chimney and sat in his room, sipping some kind of hot beverage. "I know hunters don't need to drink or eat, but I enjoy the intricacies of mortals now, some hot tea may taste better than blood if you know how to control your urges." Francis sat in front of the retired hunter, on the armchair he first sat on when he discovered the place. He measured his words carefully when he asked:
- "So why is it that you don't fight anymore? I could see the joy in your eyes when you were landing those punches and kicks while sparring with me. You still enjoy fighting and, I assume, the sight of blood."
- "A retired hunter can still hunt, gather blood echoes and even some odd other trinkets. But the joy of fighting big and fearsome beasts is taken away from you as soon as you lose your contact with the dream."
- "In other words, you fear death. You fear dissipating into nothingness." Francis wanted to irritate his calm interlocutor.
- "I fear death yes. I fear a meaningless death. Being stabbed by a pitchfork is no way to go for a hunter. I saw a great hunter before die and dissipate before my eyes because of a pitchfork he didn't see coming his way. I'd rather die fighting a worthy opponent."
- "And this is why you train me? To become strong enough to cut your head off?"
- "Indeed. I grew tired of this dark place. I do not know if there's a life after death but I'm certain that death is better than what Yharnam had become."
The retired hunter remained silent for a moment, contemplating the fire and sipping his tea. He was lost in some train of thought and Francis sat and waited.
- "How long can a hunter live?" Asked Francis in the end. Although he considered himself old, he couldn't compare his age to someone who hasn't tasted proper death in a long time.
- "When you're sustained by the dream, the notion of time becomes irrelevant. I guess you can say that hunters may live for thousands of years, killing beasts and feasting on the blood of their prey."
- "To what end? The hunt, it seems to me, has started years ago. And it doesn't seem to end any time soon."
- "You're starting to grasp the dilemma most hunters find themselves in, Francis." His mentor finally turned his gaze away from the fire and faced him. "What do you know of the order of hunters?"
- "I know that it's an ancient order. As old as the healing church or even older. It was established to protect the people against the beasts that roamed their city and keep them safe at night."
- "That is a good summary of what hunters are. But what do you know of the old hunters? The ones who helped establish the order?"
- "Not much I'm afraid," admitted Francis. "I know that he helped Laurence during his excavations in the tombs of the Gods where they had discovered the tool that allowed for blood healing and blood ministration."
- "You would've made a fine scholar back at Byrgenwerth," mocked the retired hunter. "Yes they helped Laurence and yes they killed beasts. But the part of protecting the townspeople isn't fully true I'm afraid."
- "What do you mean?" Francis suspected as much, once he got to know Yharnam and Hemwick, he couldn't believe that mere weak monsters could wipe out an order as ancient as the hunters.
- "Hunters hunted beasts and grew in strength. There was a time when hunters were so common that you could hire a hunter for a penny. The notion of beast is relative as well. Those poor women you killed in cold blood, what pushed you to slaughter them? You didn't let a single one escape from your wrath."
- "They attacked and they wanted to kill me. All I did was fight back."
- "But they didn't start the fighting you see? They were there, standing and contemplating the fire for a reason I could care less to know about. Yet, you went towards them and you butchered them as if their lives were less significant than yours."
- "What's your point here old man?" Asked Francis, it was strange for him to address someone as an old man.
- "My point, my dear 'old man' is that hunters killed whoever showed hostility towards them. Maybe those women didn't like that you invaded their village. They seem mindless yes, and they're not capable of proper thought. Animals are not capable of thought either and they roam their own territory trying to live their life. However, you hunted them for sports, you butchered them and you sat on top of their corpses."
- "Didn't you see what they were doing? Harvesting human bodies and burning the others. They are definitely a threat to humankind. They're mindless beasts, worse than animals. I don't see where you're going with your comparison there."
- "Compared to the old hunters, I was admitted very recently to the order. When the city had fallen to the scourge of beasts and only few hunters remained to push them off. Doesn't it strike you, that there are very few hunters in this city? That beasts inhabit the streets and the few sane people have closed their doors to everyone?"
Francis kept silent. It was a rhetorical question. He looked into the retired hunter whose eyes were shining with inexplicable rage.
- "Hunters disappeared one day from Yharnam," he went on. "No one knew what happened to them or why that happened. The only surviving hunters spoke of a curse. Hunters can't die and even when they do, they'd come back to life in the dream or in one of the many lanterns connected to it.
"But when the lanterns disappeared from their sight, hunters would start losing their link to the dream. One by one, they would receive a fatal blow and dissipate into nothingness. I've seen it with my own eyes and when I felt that my time had come, that I could no longer see those lanterns, I understood."
- "So you don't know why you lost your connection to the dream?"
- "I have a vague idea about it, a theory. I might share it with you before I die. But for now, I think it would best if we focused on your training. Go get some rest now. You should go to the dream and spend those blood echoes you have gained. Perhaps the old man may show his face to you at last."
- "Perhaps I should do so. But before I go, I have one more question."
- "Ask away!" said the retired hunter.
- "Is it possible to leave this city? To live a normal life and go back to my own land?"
The hunter looked at Francis with an amused smile then said:
- "Yes it's possible, in theory. Some hunters spoke of a legend. Paleblood they called it. If you manage to find the source of Paleblood and halt it, you'd be able to transcend the hunt and you'll be granted exit from Yharnam. "
"You'll keep your strength and enhanced ability but you'll never go back to the dream. You'll become a mortal, but a very strong one," He smiled again and continued "but these are tales I suspect, of tired hunters who dreamed of leaving this dreadful place. I do not believe in it one bit."
Francis left the room and went on his own. His body was still aching from the amount of effort he had to make in order to dispose of all his enemies before. Was it true that he had just slaughtered them mindlessly? Was he the real beast while the others were just trying to protect their lives from the strong predator?
He was called a hunter after all. A hunter kills animals and uses their fear to his advantage. He came to Yharnam looking for answers regarding the evolution of mankind. Did they evolve to become savages then, who hunt prey and feast on their blood?
He refused to accept that it was the sole purpose of the hunters and the church. Those two entities were working closely, but he suspected that they both hid from the other some crucial information regarding the source of their power.
He was wealthy merchant after all, he knew more about politics than these mindless killers who called themselves hunters. And he could already observe that the healing church had established its headquarters in Yharnam while the hunters had a hidden workshop, known only to them.
No one would believe him if he told them that he uses lanterns to be transported to a floating island next to the moon where white flower grew and a doll could speak. The church had their cathedral and the hunters had their workshop in the hunter's dream.
He suspected that church doctors didn't know about the dream. He had met two church doctors before and none of them mentioned that dream. Perhaps, the one who administered blood to him knew about it but he killed her before she could even tell him anything else.
In retrospect, he didn't even know why he killed her. He had this murderous surge inside of him. He wanted to understand the extent of his power. He was fascinated when he found out about it.
Now he wondered about the political agenda of the healing church. They seemed to have been in control of the city. People loved them and pilgrims from all over the world came to visit them. He knew about the castle of Cainhurst too.
Surgit had told him about that, and about the queen that reigned over Yharnam for a long time before the church finally took complete control of the city. He told him about how she suddenly disappeared, giving no sign of life. What about his dream? That woman in what appeared to be the throne room, and the cage that closed on her head, concealing her face. There were so many unanswered questions in his mind.
After a while, he decided to go back to the retired hunter and ask him more about the skills he could upgrade. If he was to leave for the dream and talk to the doll, he wanted to know more about what could be useful to him as a hunter.
"It's generally hit and miss for most new hunters who didn't have the pleasure of having a mentor." He started after Francis had asked him. "You can upgrade your strength if you're going to rely on weapons that use brute force. In your case you're using an elegant Katana. It's fashioned after an old order of knights that used to fight for the queen of blood in Cainhurst."
The mention of the castle sent shivers down Francis' spine. "They fought using their own blood as a weapon. You tried that yourself during your fight earlier. If you want to keep using that weapon, then I suggest you upgrade your skill and your bloodtinge."
"Bloodtinge enhances your blood, makes it more poisonous and more dangerous. Skill enhances your speed and agility. You'll find it useful when wielding that weapon of yours. Increase your endurance and your stamina will improve as well as your resistance towards all kinds of poison. The longer you fight without healing or dying, the more endurance you gain."
"Isn't my blood poisonous? Aren't I immune against poison then?" asked Francis.
"Blood poison is not the type that other beasts can inflict you with. Trust me, with some monsters you'll need resistance." He said while giving Francis a very serious look. He then went on.
"The last skill is Arcane. It is a skill related to summoning forces from the cosmos. Some hunters and church doctors used it against bigger monsters or while fighting servants of the queen of blood. If you're interested in that skill, you'll need to find items that facilitate contact with creatures from the cosmos. I've never seen such an item before though."
"Thank you" said Francis "I think this will do for now. I'll head to the dream for now and once I come back, we shall have that fight you always wished for."
"Not so fast champion, the time for that fight will come. We'll keep on sparring for now until I deem you ready to claim back your precious blood echoes… and mine too" finished the hunter in whisper.
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It was pouring by the time Francis had finished off the last remaining executioner. He was exhausted and his sword felt heavy on his arm. Taking up such a great number of enemies was a foolish endeavor, worthy of the most foolish hunter.
Fire had helped him create chaos in the ranks and induce the women to fight the executioners which made them lose focus on their main enemy. The distraction he created helped him focus on large groups at a time, killing the crazy women as if he was swatting flies.
What constituted a real challenge was fighting off three executioners at the same time while other women swarmed the place and swung at him with their makeshift weapons. He got out with some minor injuries. By the end of the battle, he was left with two blood vials from the five he had brought with him. A feat he was proud of.
He was sitting in the middle of the circle, now full of corpses. Rain had put off the great fire that arose from the fighting. Calm had come back to the village. "I see you have created a great carnage here" said a voice behind him. The master had come to witness the work of his pupil.
"Not bad for a hotheaded hunter. I think it's high time I gave you a better theoretical lesson about what it means to be a hunter. Let's go back, rain will wash off the blood in the street, but the stench will remain on your clothes if you don't wash them."
As Francis bathed and washed his clothes, his mentor had put a fire by the chimney and sat in his room, sipping some kind of hot beverage. "I know hunters don't need to drink or eat, but I enjoy the intricacies of mortals now, some hot tea may taste better than blood if you know how to control your urges." Francis sat in front of the retired hunter, on the armchair he first sat on when he discovered the place. He measured his words carefully when he asked:
- "So why is it that you don't fight anymore? I could see the joy in your eyes when you were landing those punches and kicks while sparring with me. You still enjoy fighting and, I assume, the sight of blood."
- "A retired hunter can still hunt, gather blood echoes and even some odd other trinkets. But the joy of fighting big and fearsome beasts is taken away from you as soon as you lose your contact with the dream."
- "In other words, you fear death. You fear dissipating into nothingness." Francis wanted to irritate his calm interlocutor.
- "I fear death yes. I fear a meaningless death. Being stabbed by a pitchfork is no way to go for a hunter. I saw a great hunter before die and dissipate before my eyes because of a pitchfork he didn't see coming his way. I'd rather die fighting a worthy opponent."
- "And this is why you train me? To become strong enough to cut your head off?"
- "Indeed. I grew tired of this dark place. I do not know if there's a life after death but I'm certain that death is better than what Yharnam had become."
The retired hunter remained silent for a moment, contemplating the fire and sipping his tea. He was lost in some train of thought and Francis sat and waited.
- "How long can a hunter live?" Asked Francis in the end. Although he considered himself old, he couldn't compare his age to someone who hasn't tasted proper death in a long time.
- "When you're sustained by the dream, the notion of time becomes irrelevant. I guess you can say that hunters may live for thousands of years, killing beasts and feasting on the blood of their prey."
- "To what end? The hunt, it seems to me, has started years ago. And it doesn't seem to end any time soon."
- "You're starting to grasp the dilemma most hunters find themselves in, Francis." His mentor finally turned his gaze away from the fire and faced him. "What do you know of the order of hunters?"
- "I know that it's an ancient order. As old as the healing church or even older. It was established to protect the people against the beasts that roamed their city and keep them safe at night."
- "That is a good summary of what hunters are. But what do you know of the old hunters? The ones who helped establish the order?"
- "Not much I'm afraid," admitted Francis. "I know that he helped Laurence during his excavations in the tombs of the Gods where they had discovered the tool that allowed for blood healing and blood ministration."
- "You would've made a fine scholar back at Byrgenwerth," mocked the retired hunter. "Yes they helped Laurence and yes they killed beasts. But the part of protecting the townspeople isn't fully true I'm afraid."
- "What do you mean?" Francis suspected as much, once he got to know Yharnam and Hemwick, he couldn't believe that mere weak monsters could wipe out an order as ancient as the hunters.
- "Hunters hunted beasts and grew in strength. There was a time when hunters were so common that you could hire a hunter for a penny. The notion of beast is relative as well. Those poor women you killed in cold blood, what pushed you to slaughter them? You didn't let a single one escape from your wrath."
- "They attacked and they wanted to kill me. All I did was fight back."
- "But they didn't start the fighting you see? They were there, standing and contemplating the fire for a reason I could care less to know about. Yet, you went towards them and you butchered them as if their lives were less significant than yours."
- "What's your point here old man?" Asked Francis, it was strange for him to address someone as an old man.
- "My point, my dear 'old man' is that hunters killed whoever showed hostility towards them. Maybe those women didn't like that you invaded their village. They seem mindless yes, and they're not capable of proper thought. Animals are not capable of thought either and they roam their own territory trying to live their life. However, you hunted them for sports, you butchered them and you sat on top of their corpses."
- "Didn't you see what they were doing? Harvesting human bodies and burning the others. They are definitely a threat to humankind. They're mindless beasts, worse than animals. I don't see where you're going with your comparison there."
- "Compared to the old hunters, I was admitted very recently to the order. When the city had fallen to the scourge of beasts and only few hunters remained to push them off. Doesn't it strike you, that there are very few hunters in this city? That beasts inhabit the streets and the few sane people have closed their doors to everyone?"
Francis kept silent. It was a rhetorical question. He looked into the retired hunter whose eyes were shining with inexplicable rage.
- "Hunters disappeared one day from Yharnam," he went on. "No one knew what happened to them or why that happened. The only surviving hunters spoke of a curse. Hunters can't die and even when they do, they'd come back to life in the dream or in one of the many lanterns connected to it.
"But when the lanterns disappeared from their sight, hunters would start losing their link to the dream. One by one, they would receive a fatal blow and dissipate into nothingness. I've seen it with my own eyes and when I felt that my time had come, that I could no longer see those lanterns, I understood."
- "So you don't know why you lost your connection to the dream?"
- "I have a vague idea about it, a theory. I might share it with you before I die. But for now, I think it would best if we focused on your training. Go get some rest now. You should go to the dream and spend those blood echoes you have gained. Perhaps the old man may show his face to you at last."
- "Perhaps I should do so. But before I go, I have one more question."
- "Ask away!" said the retired hunter.
- "Is it possible to leave this city? To live a normal life and go back to my own land?"
The hunter looked at Francis with an amused smile then said:
- "Yes it's possible, in theory. Some hunters spoke of a legend. Paleblood they called it. If you manage to find the source of Paleblood and halt it, you'd be able to transcend the hunt and you'll be granted exit from Yharnam. "
"You'll keep your strength and enhanced ability but you'll never go back to the dream. You'll become a mortal, but a very strong one," He smiled again and continued "but these are tales I suspect, of tired hunters who dreamed of leaving this dreadful place. I do not believe in it one bit."
Francis left the room and went on his own. His body was still aching from the amount of effort he had to make in order to dispose of all his enemies before. Was it true that he had just slaughtered them mindlessly? Was he the real beast while the others were just trying to protect their lives from the strong predator?
He was called a hunter after all. A hunter kills animals and uses their fear to his advantage. He came to Yharnam looking for answers regarding the evolution of mankind. Did they evolve to become savages then, who hunt prey and feast on their blood?
He refused to accept that it was the sole purpose of the hunters and the church. Those two entities were working closely, but he suspected that they both hid from the other some crucial information regarding the source of their power.
He was wealthy merchant after all, he knew more about politics than these mindless killers who called themselves hunters. And he could already observe that the healing church had established its headquarters in Yharnam while the hunters had a hidden workshop, known only to them.
No one would believe him if he told them that he uses lanterns to be transported to a floating island next to the moon where white flower grew and a doll could speak. The church had their cathedral and the hunters had their workshop in the hunter's dream.
He suspected that church doctors didn't know about the dream. He had met two church doctors before and none of them mentioned that dream. Perhaps, the one who administered blood to him knew about it but he killed her before she could even tell him anything else.
In retrospect, he didn't even know why he killed her. He had this murderous surge inside of him. He wanted to understand the extent of his power. He was fascinated when he found out about it.
Now he wondered about the political agenda of the healing church. They seemed to have been in control of the city. People loved them and pilgrims from all over the world came to visit them. He knew about the castle of Cainhurst too.
Surgit had told him about that, and about the queen that reigned over Yharnam for a long time before the church finally took complete control of the city. He told him about how she suddenly disappeared, giving no sign of life. What about his dream? That woman in what appeared to be the throne room, and the cage that closed on her head, concealing her face. There were so many unanswered questions in his mind.
After a while, he decided to go back to the retired hunter and ask him more about the skills he could upgrade. If he was to leave for the dream and talk to the doll, he wanted to know more about what could be useful to him as a hunter.
"It's generally hit and miss for most new hunters who didn't have the pleasure of having a mentor." He started after Francis had asked him. "You can upgrade your strength if you're going to rely on weapons that use brute force. In your case you're using an elegant Katana. It's fashioned after an old order of knights that used to fight for the queen of blood in Cainhurst."
The mention of the castle sent shivers down Francis' spine. "They fought using their own blood as a weapon. You tried that yourself during your fight earlier. If you want to keep using that weapon, then I suggest you upgrade your skill and your bloodtinge."
"Bloodtinge enhances your blood, makes it more poisonous and more dangerous. Skill enhances your speed and agility. You'll find it useful when wielding that weapon of yours. Increase your endurance and your stamina will improve as well as your resistance towards all kinds of poison. The longer you fight without healing or dying, the more endurance you gain."
"Isn't my blood poisonous? Aren't I immune against poison then?" asked Francis.
"Blood poison is not the type that other beasts can inflict you with. Trust me, with some monsters you'll need resistance." He said while giving Francis a very serious look. He then went on.
"The last skill is Arcane. It is a skill related to summoning forces from the cosmos. Some hunters and church doctors used it against bigger monsters or while fighting servants of the queen of blood. If you're interested in that skill, you'll need to find items that facilitate contact with creatures from the cosmos. I've never seen such an item before though."
"Thank you" said Francis "I think this will do for now. I'll head to the dream for now and once I come back, we shall have that fight you always wished for."
"Not so fast champion, the time for that fight will come. We'll keep on sparring for now until I deem you ready to claim back your precious blood echoes… and mine too" finished the hunter in whisper.
It was pouring by the time Francis had finished off the last remaining executioner. He was exhausted and his sword felt heavy on his arm. Taking up such a great number of enemies was a foolish endeavor, worthy of the most foolish hunter.Fire had helped him create chaos in the ranks and induce the women to fight the executioners which made them lose focus on their main enemy. The distraction he created helped him focus on large groups at a time, killing the crazy women as if he was swatting flies.What constituted a real challenge was fighting off three executioners at the same time while other women swarmed the place and swung at him with their makeshift weapons. He got out with some minor injuries. By the end of the battle, he was left with two blood vials from the five he had brought with him. A feat he was proud of.He was sitting in the middle of the circle, now full of corpses. Rain had put off the great fire that arose from the fighting. Calm had come back to the village. "I see you have created a great carnage here" said a voice behind him. The master had come to witness the work of his pupil."Not bad for a hotheaded hunter. I think it's high time I gave you a better theoretical lesson about what it means to be a hunter. Let's go back, rain will wash off the blood in the street, but the stench will remain on your clothes if you don't wash them."As Francis bathed and washed his clothes, his mentor had put a fire by the chimney and sat in his room, sipping some kind of hot beverage. "I know hunters don't need to drink or eat, but I enjoy the intricacies of mortals now, some hot tea may taste better than blood if you know how to control your urges." Francis sat in front of the retired hunter, on the armchair he first sat on when he discovered the place. He measured his words carefully when he asked:- "So why is it that you don't fight anymore? I could see the joy in your eyes when you were landing those punches and kicks while sparring with me. You still enjoy fighting and, I assume, the sight of blood."- "A retired hunter can still hunt, gather blood echoes and even some odd other trinkets. But the joy of fighting big and fearsome beasts is taken away from you as soon as you lose your contact with the dream."- "In other words, you fear death. You fear dissipating into nothingness." Francis wanted to irritate his calm interlocutor.- "I fear death yes. I fear a meaningless death. Being stabbed by a pitchfork is no way to go for a hunter. I saw a great hunter before die and dissipate before my eyes because of a pitchfork he didn't see coming his way. I'd rather die fighting a worthy opponent."- "And this is why you train me? To become strong enough to cut your head off?"- "Indeed. I grew tired of this dark place. I do not know if there's a life after death but I'm certain that death is better than what Yharnam had become."The retired hunter remained silent for a moment, contemplating the fire and sipping his tea. He was lost in some train of thought and Francis sat and waited.- "How long can a hunter live?" Asked Francis in the end. Although he considered himself old, he couldn't compare his age to someone who hasn't tasted proper death in a long time.- "When you're sustained by the dream, the notion of time becomes irrelevant. I guess you can say that hunters may live for thousands of years, killing beasts and feasting on the blood of their prey."- "To what end? The hunt, it seems to me, has started years ago. And it doesn't seem to end any time soon."- "You're starting to grasp the dilemma most hunters find themselves in, Francis." His mentor finally turned his gaze away from the fire and faced him. "What do you know of the order of hunters?"- "I know that it's an ancient order. As old as the healing church or even older. It was established to protect the people against the beasts that roamed their city and keep them safe at night."- "That is a good summary of what hunters are. But what do you know of the old hunters? The ones who helped establish the order?"- "Not much I'm afraid," admitted Francis. "I know that he helped Laurence during his excavations in the tombs of the Gods where they had discovered the tool that allowed for blood healing and blood ministration."- "You would've made a fine scholar back at Byrgenwerth," mocked the retired hunter. "Yes they helped Laurence and yes they killed beasts. But the part of protecting the townspeople isn't fully true I'm afraid."- "What do you mean?" Francis suspected as much, once he got to know Yharnam and Hemwick, he couldn't believe that mere weak monsters could wipe out an order as ancient as the hunters.- "Hunters hunted beasts and grew in strength. There was a time when hunters were so common that you could hire a hunter for a penny. The notion of beast is relative as well. Those poor women you killed in cold blood, what pushed you to slaughter them? You didn't let a single one escape from your wrath."- "They attacked and they wanted to kill me. All I did was fight back."- "But they didn't start the fighting you see? They were there, standing and contemplating the fire for a reason I could care less to know about. Yet, you went towards them and you butchered them as if their lives were less significant than yours."- "What's your point here old man?" Asked Francis, it was strange for him to address someone as an old man.- "My point, my dear 'old man' is that hunters killed whoever showed hostility towards them. Maybe those women didn't like that you invaded their village. They seem mindless yes, and they're not capable of proper thought. Animals are not capable of thought either and they roam their own territory trying to live their life. However, you hunted them for sports, you butchered them and you sat on top of their corpses."- "Didn't you see what they were doing? Harvesting human bodies and burning the others. They are definitely a threat to humankind. They're mindless beasts, worse than animals. I don't see where you're going with your comparison there."- "Compared to the old hunters, I was admitted very recently to the order. When the city had fallen to the scourge of beasts and only few hunters remained to push them off. Doesn't it strike you, that there are very few hunters in this city? That beasts inhabit the streets and the few sane people have closed their doors to everyone?"Francis kept silent. It was a rhetorical question. He looked into the retired hunter whose eyes were shining with inexplicable rage.- "Hunters disappeared one day from Yharnam," he went on. "No one knew what happened to them or why that happened. The only surviving hunters spoke of a curse. Hunters can't die and even when they do, they'd come back to life in the dream or in one of the many lanterns connected to it."But when the lanterns disappeared from their sight, hunters would start losing their link to the dream. One by one, they would receive a fatal blow and dissipate into nothingness. I've seen it with my own eyes and when I felt that my time had come, that I could no longer see those lanterns, I understood."- "So you don't know why you lost your connection to the dream?"- "I have a vague idea about it, a theory. I might share it with you before I die. But for now, I think it would best if we focused on your training. Go get some rest now. You should go to the dream and spend those blood echoes you have gained. Perhaps the old man may show his face to you at last."- "Perhaps I should do so. But before I go, I have one more question."- "Ask away!" said the retired hunter.- "Is it possible to leave this city? To live a normal life and go back to my own land?"The hunter looked at Francis with an amused smile then said:- "Yes it's possible, in theory. Some hunters spoke of a legend. Paleblood they called it. If you manage to find the source of Paleblood and halt it, you'd be able to transcend the hunt and you'll be granted exit from Yharnam. ""You'll keep your strength and enhanced ability but you'll never go back to the dream. You'll become a mortal, but a very strong one," He smiled again and continued "but these are tales I suspect, of tired hunters who dreamed of leaving this dreadful place. I do not believe in it one bit."Francis left the room and went on his own. His body was still aching from the amount of effort he had to make in order to dispose of all his enemies before. Was it true that he had just slaughtered them mindlessly? Was he the real beast while the others were just trying to protect their lives from the strong predator?He was called a hunter after all. A hunter kills animals and uses their fear to his advantage. He came to Yharnam looking for answers regarding the evolution of mankind. Did they evolve to become savages then, who hunt prey and feast on their blood?He refused to accept that it was the sole purpose of the hunters and the church. Those two entities were working closely, but he suspected that they both hid from the other some crucial information regarding the source of their power.He was wealthy merchant after all, he knew more about politics than these mindless killers who called themselves hunters. And he could already observe that the healing church had established its headquarters in Yharnam while the hunters had a hidden workshop, known only to them.No one would believe him if he told them that he uses lanterns to be transported to a floating island next to the moon where white flower grew and a doll could speak. The church had their cathedral and the hunters had their workshop in the hunter's dream.He suspected that church doctors didn't know about the dream. He had met two church doctors before and none of them mentioned that dream. Perhaps, the one who administered blood to him knew about it but he killed her before she could even tell him anything else.In retrospect, he didn't even know why he killed her. He had this murderous surge inside of him. He wanted to understand the extent of his power. He was fascinated when he found out about it.Now he wondered about the political agenda of the healing church. They seemed to have been in control of the city. People loved them and pilgrims from all over the world came to visit them. He knew about the castle of Cainhurst too.Surgit had told him about that, and about the queen that reigned over Yharnam for a long time before the church finally took complete control of the city. He told him about how she suddenly disappeared, giving no sign of life. What about his dream? That woman in what appeared to be the throne room, and the cage that closed on her head, concealing her face. There were so many unanswered questions in his mind.After a while, he decided to go back to the retired hunter and ask him more about the skills he could upgrade. If he was to leave for the dream and talk to the doll, he wanted to know more about what could be useful to him as a hunter."It's generally hit and miss for most new hunters who didn't have the pleasure of having a mentor." He started after Francis had asked him. "You can upgrade your strength if you're going to rely on weapons that use brute force. In your case you're using an elegant Katana. It's fashioned after an old order of knights that used to fight for the queen of blood in Cainhurst."The mention of the castle sent shivers down Francis' spine. "They fought using their own blood as a weapon. You tried that yourself during your fight earlier. If you want to keep using that weapon, then I suggest you upgrade your skill and your bloodtinge.""Bloodtinge enhances your blood, makes it more poisonous and more dangerous. Skill enhances your speed and agility. You'll find it useful when wielding that weapon of yours. Increase your endurance and your stamina will improve as well as your resistance towards all kinds of poison. The longer you fight without healing or dying, the more endurance you gain.""Isn't my blood poisonous? Aren't I immune against poison then?" asked Francis."Blood poison is not the type that other beasts can inflict you with. Trust me, with some monsters you'll need resistance." He said while giving Francis a very serious look. He then went on."The last skill is Arcane. It is a skill related to summoning forces from the cosmos. Some hunters and church doctors used it against bigger monsters or while fighting servants of the queen of blood. If you're interested in that skill, you'll need to find items that facilitate contact with creatures from the cosmos. I've never seen such an item before though.""Thank you" said Francis "I think this will do for now. I'll head to the dream for now and once I come back, we shall have that fight you always wished for.""Not so fast champion, the time for that fight will come. We'll keep on sparring for now until I deem you ready to claim back your precious blood echoes and mine too" finished the hunter in whisper.
