Just what kind of monster has Cassie become? From the sound of it she knows about Nightmare Creatures that haven't even entered the Waking World yet, their approximate Class, and some of their uniquenesses.
The haunting message sent a chill down Gehrman's spine. Though her seemingly ridiculous foresight was chilling, what was truly unsettling was the content.
"Sunny must kill them."
"Tyrants, Terrors, and a Titan. I know he's gotten much stronger, but if those things are corrupted, I might not even be able to kill them. Does he actually have the ability to…" Gehrman's listless mutterings trailed off.
It was true Sunny's Aspect was Divine and he had much more Essence and strength than the average Ascended. But he wasn't a quasi-Saint like Gehrman was. He lacked that destructive power.
Perhaps it was his unnatural skill with Weaving that would allow him to kill such monsters.
And hundreds of millions of lives hang in the balance? There were about 3 billion humans alive, and Antarctica itself held a decent chunk of that. Still, with the evacuation efforts, even if those monstrosities in the Antarctic Center were to face zero resistance it was unlikely that many would die.
Which implied that Cassie had seen even further into the future, and knew that these Nightmare Creaturers deaths at the hand of Sunny would set off a chain reaction that would allow him to avert a disaster that could take a good chunk of humanity out.
"...Well, I am going to the Western Antarctic anyway. So it shouldn't be too much of a problem."
Though the idea of letting such things run free was disturbing, Cassie appeared certain Sunny could kill them. So it wasn't as if too many lives would be lost…
Gehrman shook his head.
There were other things that required his attention at the moment.
…
Gehrman was thrown backward, going through several old trees. Splinters and fake-looking leaves showered down, casting an eerie light about.
He winced at the pain, his Soul ached at the impact.
As it happened, fighting Soul Beasts was much more harrowing than he first thought. Since he knew their attack patterns, it was rare for him to get hit. But it turned out that when he did it doubled as a Soul Attack.
Still Gehrman smiled.
"Long time no see, Paarl. You will give me a Blood Rock, won't you?"
Streaks of blue lightning fell from the gathering clouds and a clearing was formed by its devastating release.
The Dark Beast was almost entirely skeletal, lacking muscle, blood, and a lot of skin. But with each swing a torrent of viscous electricity tore through the ground and trees. Its fine fur stood on end, and horrific ruin spread across the Soul Forest.
A wretched howl tore from the beast as it was coated with skittering bolts.
In Johann's memories, there were a few enemies that were especially formidable. They tended to drop a great amount of Blood Echoes, but were also the cause of almost all of his deaths. The Cleric Beast had been the first, followed by Father Gascoigne. Later in the night, he had stumbled across the unseen village of Yahar'gul. And hidden in a crevice was Dark Beast Paarl.
He remembered the fight well…as it had been quite fun.
Its astonishing speed and electric currents made it difficult. But the thing was lanky and massive. Which meant breaking its legs would bring it to the ground.
Tearing into the massive limp beast was a very satisfying memory.
Still, this version was faster (or perhaps Gehrman was now slower, it was hard to tell). Whatever the case, his timing had been off, and he suffered a painful blow because of it.
Still, he smiled.
Paarl was a formidable foe, and those rare beasts would often drop Blood Chunks, or sometimes, Blood Rocks.
In Yharnam, Blood Rocks were the pinnacle of reinforcement material. Only one was needed to bring one's weapon to its peak strength.
Unfortunately, it appeared [Walking Workshop] required more. Twelve Twin Blood Shards were required to turn one of his Memories Awakened, the same number of Blood Chunks turned it Ascended, and it seemed likely twelve would turn it Transcendent.
This was both disconcerting, but also promising. The amount was very rough, but it also indicated that it would eventually be possible for him to acquire something even greater than a Blood Rock, and thus eventually be able to create Supreme Memories.
The number of recorded Great Nightmare Creatures being killed was under 100, though this did not take into account the Sovergins, who undoubtedly had 1,000s of such corpses appear before them over the decades.
Still, this meant that Supreme Memories were practically non-existent.
…It was cold comfort though.
Such a thing was but a dream at the moment, and Gehrman would have very much appreciated a single Blood Rock to make Memories Transcendent.
"Whatever…"
Gehrman lunged forward. He was slower than this version of Paarl, but that was fine. He had already adjusted to this Soul Beast's strength. And its attack patterns as well as the movement of bolts was familiar.
The creature was around the strength of a Corrupted Devil. Without his Aspect, Gehrman would ordinarily be hard pressed to take on such a foe.
But against Soul Beasts, the gap could easily be closed with skill. All it meant was that it would take a while.
Then again, Geherman never once grew tired during these fights.
The Soul Beast never had a chance.
…
Two hours later Gehrman stood in his Soul Workshop. He pulled a Blood Rock from the Arcane Storage and another took its place. He kept removing them until he had twelve on his Workshop table.
He frowned, it had taken him over a year of hunting in the Soul Forest and he still only had this much. He had even actively searched out formidable foes to acquire them.
In terms of total time, he had to have spent about a thousand hours prowling those forests.
Now he had a decision to make.
6 Blood Rocks could increase an Ascended Memory's potency by a good amount, making it quasi-Transcendent. He had been planning to save up to upgrade the [Greedy Bloodstone Talisman] once more, but he had come to a different decision.
To give a Memory to another he had to cut his bond with it, and after that he wouldn't be able to get it back. Dropping a mere Ascended Memory on the ground seemed disingenuous, especially if it was only half upgraded.
"I am such a nice sponsor," Gehrman bitterly muttered.
Under the warm lighting of the Workshop he focused and the [Prideful Chikage] appeared.
…
Caster used to move like a dancer. His swordplay was elegant and perfect. But as of late he had noticed that he had become somewhat more…brutally efficient.
He hated to admit it, but Gehrman was a better fighter than him. In terms of pure skill, the gap between them was as large as a rookie versus an expert.
So though Gehrman insisted he was not his instructor, Caster couldn't help but try to mimic him. He had no flourishes, no wasted movement, and everything he did conserved energy and momentum.
It was a Battle Art unlike any other. What was maddening was that Gehrman didn't even seem to realize what he had created. He never once used the term "Battle Art" even though that was exactly what it was.
Still, the young, recently Awakened who had "tutored" had appeared to absorb much of it. Gehrman evidently left much room for variation depending on their build and Aspect. But they were probably approaching the skill level of the ex-mercinaries he now sparred with.
This was his cohort.
The five best former low-lives that had taken to being a "Hunter" the best. It was a well balanced team. Though none of them had anything more than an Awakened Rank Aspect. They still had a range specialist, a healer, a scout, a tank, and a damage dealer. It was admittedly laughable compared to the group he traveled with in the Forgotten Shore.
And Caster was heads and shoulders above them.
To prove it, he was fighting all of the other five at once.
It had seemed a good idea since they held some animosity toward him, probably because Caster didn't like them much either.
But if there was one thing he learned from his Legacy training that still held true, it was that strength was the most important thing.
If they saw Caster as an insurmountable peer they would undoubtedly be more receptive to his orders.
There was only one issue.
…he was bleeding.
They were all in something called a Dreamscape Pod. It was a type of virtual reality combined with the powers of a flamboyant and otherwise useless Government Saint whose name escaped him at the moment.
Here, coming back from the dead was as simple as pressing a button.
But in the twilight courtyard they fought, only one had died so far. Caster had taken care of the "tank" of his opponents but the strongest of them, the one named Malcolm, had landed a good blow on him.
He was fairly certain his arm was broken.
And since the healer was on the other team, it would remain that way.
He was on the back foot.
Though his strength and speed were almost on the level of an Ascended thanks to [Crow's Vow] they were otherwise all equal in terms of Memory Rank and Tier.
Gehrman had some of the Memories that he had somehow acquired for the Sleepers of this year transferred to these men and women. As a result, each of them had Ascended Attire and Weaponry. And since Gehrman had been having them train with Trick Weapons in the Dread Citadel, they were not exactly amateurs.
Caster grunted and parried the pressing Malcolm, dodging the poking attack of the healer's Reitersplach and the follow-up gunshot.
How the hell did he come up with such an annoying weapon!?
Caster cursed and shifted his momentum. Punching down the spear weapon, dodging two other attacks, and in one motion cut off the healer's head.
And then the weight of a heavy broadsword hit his back.
The pain was muted by the simulation, but he was still pierced by the thing.
At the last moment he had strafed and limited the damage but there was now an arrow coming straight for his head.
He could hear the string release, he remembered their approximate location.
Caster took a gamble and in one movement moved to catch and throw the arrow.
If he missed, he would die.
But he had a feeling in his gut, he knew that the ranger would go for a kill shot.
And he was right.
The arrow was redirected, going straight into Malcolm's eye, killing him.
Caster groaned and grimaced as he felt his hand burning. The Arrow had been on fire, lit by the ranger's Aspect. And his damaged armor could not shield him fully from it.
Caster removed himself off Malcolm's greatsword, or rather, [Ludwig's Holy Blade] as it was dubbed by Gehrman.
Only the Scout and the Ranger were left.
And now that they lost their leader, both paled under Caster's gaze.
One minute later they were dead.
10 seconds after that Caster died too, his grievous wounds forcing him to succumb to darkness.
…
When he came to, he shakily removed himself from the pod. No physical damage was dealt, yet the battle had drained him.
"Damn, Legacy-asshat is a monster," the ranger chuckled as Caster exited his pod. "Don't tell me you Clan taught you to catch and throw an arrow in one motion. That day of training must have been hell."
Caster's eyes shifted to the laughing Awakened. He had hoped to see fear in her eyes, a broken spirit and subservience. Instead it was…something just short of respect.
They all joked around, recounting their own deaths like it was something funny. Only Malcolm seemed introspective.
"The way you moved was like a poor imitation of him…but I feel the same type of aura radiating off of you. It's unsettling," the Awakened then joined his friends in grinning. "We might actually survive the 2nd Nightmare."
Caster blinked. This wasn't what he wanted, but it was better than nothing. And though he loathed to admit it, having his presence compared to Gehrman's gave him a little pride. Somewhere along the line he couldn't even pretend to think of him as anything close to an equal. That delusion had long shattered and his arrogance had bent before him.
Caster was embarrassed about it, but being associated with Gehrman somehow gave him the same amount of pride he felt when fighting for the Han Li Clan.
The raspy voice of Gehrman's "Red Judge" voice rang from the entrance of the room at that moment.
"I certainly hope so. Especially after this."
A blade suddenly appeared before them in a blossoming of pale purple sparks. It was the same [Prideful Chikage] Gehrman had lent him to fend off the mercenaries originally…but it was different.
It was no longer Gehrman's Memory, he could feel the bond shatter as clear as day. And not only that, the ominous dread radiating from the blood-blade seemed to have multiplied.
"Happy birthday kid, a second Transcendent Memory."
Caster and the others could only look on in awe, mouths agape.
For some reason, the next words that left Caster's mouth was not a "thank you" or "how the hell did you turn an Ascended Memory Trasncendent?" but instead:
"...It's not my birthday."
The corners of Gehrman's lips quivered, and he seemed to be holding back a laugh.
"Gods, I've been a terrible influence on you haven't I?" Gehrman let out an exaggerated sigh.
"I already gave you a Transcendent Charm, I am not risking you dying and my investment going to shit just because you all of a sudden need to Ascend by your own means.
Gehrman gestured to the [Prideful Chikage].
"So take it. Become Ascended. And come back to the waking world where I will throw you at the hordes of Nightmare Creatures brewing on this gods-forsaken continent."
Caster's eyes widened.
This is absurd. How could he possibly…
"I can't take this," Caster's face was neutral, hiding the raging emotions inside. "I..won't ever be able to pay you back."
Gehrman cocked his head to the side. His face was the twisted and strained mask of the Red Judge, but at that moment it seemed to soften into his natural state.
"Of course you can, once you're a Supreme I am sure you'll be throwing Cursed Nightmare Creatures at my feet like it's nothing. What's a Transcendent Memory or two compared to that?"
It was the very same ridiculous promise he had made over a year ago. But somehow, its weight only now hit Caster.
He really expects me too…he thinks I can become a Supreme.
It was a pipedream with the current Sovereigns taking control of any who could possibly challenge the 4th Nightmare.
But Gehrman made it seem like a forgone conclusion.
Malcolm walked up to stand at his side.
"Some Legacy you are, aren't you supposed to take every opportunity to ruthlessly become stronger? To become the pinnacle of humanity?"
His deep, smooth voice jarred Caster out of his stunned state.
He felt his eyes travel to his side where the ex-mercenary was gazing at him with a plaintive look.
And he came to a sudden realization.
They are not Legacy's, nor are they elites of the Forgotten Shore. They are bottom of the barrel scum…they must envy and despise those stronger than them with all their might. They must hate me.
Caster's eye brows furrowed.
So why are they smiling?
Why had Gehrman given him so much? Why were these Awakened who really shouldn't have a chance at Ascending willing to risk their lives? Why was he doing this?
The answer was so stupidly simple that it made Caster want to jump off the boat.
It was because they wanted to.
There was no deeper reason.
Caster wanted to become stronger. It was an innate desire burned into him by Valor that was deeper than even his own independent thought…But he also wanted to pay Gehrman back. To prove him right in believing in Caster, even after his failures brought him so low that he could hardly be considered an honorable Awakened.
These ex-mercinaries wanted to change. Not all of them had wanted to spend the rest of their lives doing odd-jobs for mundanes. They dreamed of being heroes, but simply lacked the power and resources to reach their ideals.
Gehrman wanted to save people. Whether they be mundane or Awakened he would have not a single person die to a Nightmare Creature. And in that vision of the future, he saw Caster there, playing a key role.
At that moment, Caster let out a sound between a scoff and a laugh.
It was the closest he had come to true laughter in his entire life.
He couldn't recall a time when his happiness was genuine, and not just a mask to ease allies and trick enemies.
"This is absurd."
Caster grabbed the Transcendent blade, and it disappeared in a billowing rain of pale purple that swirled before entering his Soul.
Gehrman gave him a wistful smile.
"The whole world's absurd. This continent is about to be drowned in Nightmares," he paused and looked to each of the other Awakened in turn. "So keep them alive as well. That's your duty as a Hunter and a leader."
Caster's head dipped a bit, though he wasn't sure why.
His eyes found the other Awakened. The trash that he would have to trust his life with.
…They did manage to kill me, even if it cost them their lives. I guess they're not really trash, are they?