118 Approaching doom

- "Disposing of that witch was no easy task"

- "I'd met a hunter long ago who attempted to kill her. I haven't seen him ever since. I'm surprised you managed to dispose of her without dying even once."

- "Well, I had an extra incentive. Dying would've meant losing the echoes you still hold."

- "Indeed. However I don't think you need them anymore since that witch holds even more echoes than the ones you lost to me when you died."

- "Call me greedy then! I just wanted to get back my echoes. Don't think I've forgotten how you killed me. I'm grateful for that somehow, since I got to discover the hunters' dream."

Francis had just come back from his exploration of the village of Hemwick. He had stumbled upon the witch of Hemwick and he'd wanted to know more about her and what she was doing in that mansion.

- "By the way, that hunter you talked about, I think I've found him."

- Is that so?

- "I've rather found his corpse. I also found this item within his belongings. I don't think he needs it anymore."

Francis took a small metallic tool from his pocket and showed it to the nameless retired hunter. It looked like a small wine opener. The only difference was at the bottom of the tool. Instead of a screw, metal converged in an intricate way to create a seal of some sort. It looked elegant. Yet something about this tool felt… abnormal.

- "You've found quite a tool here my dear apprentice." Francis could feel envy in the eyes of his self-proclaimed master.

- "What is this thing used for?"

- "Have you seen a bloody desk in the hunter's workshop?" asked the nameless hunter with a smirk on his face; as if proud of his stupidly made up pun.

- "Yes I remember seeing one with a white cloth colored red with blood" replied Francis, not amused.

- "That desk is what hunters long ago used for rune induction." The retired hunter switched back to his serious tone.

- "I've read about those runes somewhere in the Upper Cathedral Ward. Aren't they the ones that do not rely on blood?"

- "Indeed" replied nameless "hunters from the past had a sense of humor I suppose. Whoever put it there was clearly being sarcastic. The joke was well received and so the cloth stayed in there."

- "I've also read that the runes transcriptions were long lost. How is that tool going to benefit me then?"

- "That, my dear pupil, is up to you to find out about. You see, I've never used them myself. I thought the art was long gone and frankly, no one ever sought to use it again." Francis could see sparks of jealousy emanating from the retired hunter's eyes. "And to think that rascal had it all to himself and never bothered to share it with anybody…"

- "You seem to have known that hunter pretty well," observed Francis.

- "That is of no matter now. How about we settle our score and you set off on your journey. I've nothing else to teach you and I'm quite sure you're pretty excited about exploring other areas of Yharnam. After all the night of the hunt is long, almost unending…"

- "There is one more thing I wish to ask of you. Do you know anything of that building far off beyond the lake?"

- "You've got good eyes for an old man," replied nameless with another smirk. "It's the forsaken castle Cainhurst, or that's what some would believe."

- "And you like to speak inconspicuously. I must add, your sense of humor is quite… unsettling." Francis clearly did not appreciate nameless' jokes. "Anyway, how do I get to this forsaken castle?"

- "I simply don't know and I couldn't care less. I merely opened your eyes to the possibilities a hunter has to improve." Nameless was glaring at Francis. "You know what's tiring? Having to answer questions from a newbie who thinks he's special. I'm a retired hunter. All I wanted was a proper send off. I'm tired of this place and all I want is to die in a fight."

- "You seem to be tired of my curiosity. Well I'll make sure to apologize properly and pay you back for the way you'd shot me earlier."

Francis drew his sword and got ready for battle. The nameless hunter swung his cane in the air and it transformed into a whip; an elegant weapon suited for Yharnamites who adored flashy costumes and trinkets.

The nameless hunter was first to attack. He dashed towards Francis and swung his cane-turned-whip towards his head. Francis almost instinctively shot his pistol and the quicksilver bullet landed on nameless' chest. The retired hunter fell to his knees.

"How about a beastly send off?" asked Francis as he plunged his transformed arm through the retired hunter's chest and ripped it apart. "Rest in agony, master" said Francis as he withdrew his hand from his fallen enemy's body. Not long after, the retired hunter's body dissipated like a mirage.

"Well that was easier than disposing of that witch," said Francis as if speaking to himself. "Now what do I do? I guess I'll return to the dream and spend these well-earned echoes."

***

Karla had scanned the totality of the lower streets of Cathedral Ward. There was no sign of Francis. She'd lost sight of him since that time on the bridge. Too many events unfolded since then and she didn't even know where to start looking.

He could have been long gone. But there she was, patrolling the same streets over and over again. She felt like someone trying to find a solution to a problem by repeating the same actions over and over again. In short, she felt dumb.

'I have to think about this differently.' She thought as she got up from the roof tiles on which she was sitting. She'd had enough time to familiarize herself with the layout of the Cathedral Ward.

From Oedon chapel there were three branching paths, each leading to a different part of the city. From where the peculiar beggar sat, there were three doors. The one to the front led to the upper part of the Cathedral Ward. The one on the left led to the lower part of the district while the one on the right led to the tower where she had glanced Francis before.

She looked at the bell the beggar had handed her. According to the blind weirdo, Surgit waited for Karla in the chapel for a very long time. She felt bad for not honoring her word. Even if the kidnapper hadn't snatched her and thrown her in Yahar'gul, she still wouldn't have showed up in the chapel.

She was too focused on finding Francis. Surgit's kindness somehow irritated her. She still thought of Surgit as a weakling who survives by being kind to others. That sort of way to deal with life situations irritated her. She felt that she already owed him too much for saving her life, she wouldn't possibly ring that bell to ask for his help.

She decided to continue her research by process of elimination. If Francis came down from the tower above, he might not come back to it for a long time. She had been jumping from roof to roof, scanning every street while avoiding monster encounters, for more than she had planned to.

All the streets were populated by monstrosities which can slice a man in half in one strike, using their claws. Others had fangs that can, with one bite, pierce through muscle and bone; eliminating all chances of survival; traversing the streets below meant encountering beasts.

It was a risk not worth taking. Her only objective was finding Francis, not wasting her time and effort on needlessly killing monsters. She decided to explore the lower parts of the Cathedral Ward.

She took the left exit from Oedon chapel and went down some stairs. The stairs led towards a square with a well in the middle. From the square there were two sets of stairs: the first lead towards the upper district while the second to the lower part. She moved towards the ones which led down. The sound of steps coming from her right made her stop. With the corner of her eyes, she could make out two shapes rushing towards her. She immediately jumped forward to dodge an incoming attack.

As soon as she turned around, another swing almost caught her to the chest. Her experience trumped however and her body moved seamlessly. After dodging the second attack, her sword found its way into soft flesh and tore through with enough strength to severely damage it. A "thud" was heard next to her feet while other steps could be heard in the distance. Karla looked at the source of the sound to see a ghastly figure approaching her.

It looked like a man whose blood was drained from its entire body. His skin was as pale as the moon. Although taller than the norm, he had all features of regular men. He wore a white coat, like those of doctors, and a top hat. His trousers were grey and he wore a pair of black shoes.

On his right hand he held a thick cane which he did not use to help him walk. On the left, he held a lantern. The only unusual feature in his attire was a bell that hung on his neck. As the man ran towards her, the bell moved but produced no sound. It was a strange necklace to use. 'Was this a trend in their fashion?' she wondered, bewildered.

Once he got close enough, he swung his cane towards her head. She ducked in time and, using the momentum, jumped over the man's head. She performed a somersault and as her feet pointed towards the ground, she swung her sword as hard as she could. As soon as her feet made contact with the ground, the man's head followed. These beasts were weaker than the ones she encountered in Yahar'gul.

***

Gavril opened his eyes. He was back within the mansion of the old witch. "My liege, I have done what you asked for and pointed the clueless hunter your way," he said in some kind of prayer. "Now is the time for this old man to have some fun." He took out a small bell from his pocket and rang it.

The bell could intercept other hunters calling for help. Whoever rings a beckoning bell will encounter Gavril's wrath. He was itching to kill and massacre…