Although Yharnam seemed to have no distinction between day and night in Flamme's eyes, the light did shift between bright and dim.
The red-haired girl only stood up after the dimness had gradually dissipated, having remained around the clinic the entire time. She moved with stealth, and even with no enemies in sight, the chorus of distant howls was enough to make her shiver.
She kept her distance. She simply made a detour around any creature with obvious signs of bestial transformation.
Unlike her master Frieren, she lacked the overwhelming power and confidence to fight a defensive counter-attack, to execute the principle of "receive the blow, then retaliate." That was too difficult.
As a newcomer, it was best to avoid conflict when possible.
After this period of rest, Flamme summoned her courage and gradually adapted to the new scenery. Regardless of the monsters, a closer look revealed that Yharnam was indeed filled with a wondrous artistic style, emphasizing intricate carvings, geometric structures, and numerous sculptures.
These elements combined organically to construct a magnificent city, and it was not without its finer details:
"Wait, this lamppost isn't made of wood, it's... iron? Steel!"
Flamme stood under the light, dumbfounded.
She had assumed it was some kind of sturdy wood, which would have been extravagant enough and fit the fantasy of an exceedingly wealthy dreamscape. But it was actually made of iron? Not used for weapons, but casually wasted on lampposts.
No.
Her eyes swept the area, and she immediately understood that the railings on the balconies and the viaducts were also all made of steel. Even in some ruins, collapsed brickwork revealed steel skeletons beneath.
It was beyond imagination. Not even His Majesty of the "Empire," the most powerful nation on the continent, would dare dream of building a city from steel.
People wouldn't—couldn't—imagine wasting steel on anything other than weapons. The metal was simply too precious.
Perhaps Yharnam was the true golden country.
Despite her young age, Flamme had traveled far and wide and seen several cities, and she was certain that the wealth hidden within this city was immeasurable. The productivity it implied was even more absurd. How was it possible?
Besides the magnificent architecture, she also discovered numerous objects with gears and clockwork that hissed with steam...
"Machines?"
The red-haired girl paused before a dilapidated machine, studying it with fascination. Who would have thought the heat from steam could power such a thing?
And in doing so, create energy that rivaled magic. Could there be some secret to it? It didn't seem that complex.
Driven by a magical curiosity, Flamme dismantled a few parts to study them closely.
"Is this a unique law of the dream? Or a characteristic of another world? Is it universal? I should make a note of it. I'll ask Master later, though she probably doesn't care about crafts and technologies outside of magic."
She was sure Frieren had been curious about it too.
But the power of a Mage of the Mythical Era was too immense, and elves tended to be desensitized to counter-intuitive things. Perhaps her master had already considered it and come to a conclusion: With a bit of effort, I could build a Yharnam of my own. Besides, Frieren was already the ruler of the city.
But this subject deeply interested her, a discovery she wished she'd made sooner. The thought that this might be achievable in the real world filled her with such excitement that her anxiety about being in a strange land was swept away entirely.
She then specifically sought out several more steam engines and dismantled them one by one, feeling greatly inspired. She completely forgot that she was steadily approaching the howling area she had originally intended to avoid.
BANG!
Suddenly, a large monster appeared ahead, rampaging and brawling with other creatures, startling Flamme out of her reverie.
She had almost forgotten she was in a city of nightmare; she couldn't afford to start a fight lightly.
The red-haired girl skillfully hid herself.
However, for some reason, a dull ache throbbed in her head. The once-empty sky now seemed crowded in her vision. There was a slender moon god with tentacles for a head, and a burning soul of fire... that flame felt like her master's.
The other moon god was not just a single deity, but seemed to be a composite of other energies, containing the Abyss, the Dark Soul, and even an exhaustive, unheard-of, supreme divine aspect.
"How do I suddenly know so much? What's happening to my eyes?"
Though she couldn't comprehend it, a flood of knowledge appeared in her mind. It was a strange sensation.
Focus.
Flamme immediately closed her eyes to meditate and cast a series of mind-calming spells, which finally eased the headache. She let out a sigh of relief.
The vision of the confrontation in the sky gradually faded.
But she knew very well that the battle between Frieren and that evil entity was ongoing. As long as she didn't observe it closely, it wouldn't manifest, sparing her the mental corruption. She shouldn't act rashly until she found Sister Miriadel.
Thanks to her eyes' gradually sharpening perception, she could avoid some monsters in advance, and even glimpse a hint of their nature:
"Some are caused by the bestial scourge, which matches what Master said about Yharnam. But some seem to be a result of the Dark Soul, mixed with different powers?"
For instance, a ball of snakes.
It hid in the cracks of the collapsed floor tiles, hissing quietly, coiled in a dense mass.
Then there were giant worms and large flies, which were nauseating to look at.
The more the red-haired girl saw, and the farther she looked, the more disgusted she became. She proceeded while clutching her stomach, feeling her endurance severely challenged. Even if she could easily defeat them, she had no desire to initiate combat.
Suddenly, a wandering white husk appeared before her, blocking the necessary path and causing Flamme to frown.
She had no choice but to create a spectral crystal spear, because her eyes could identify the creature as a product of the power of the Dark Soul...
Squelch!
Though it was a dried husk, its skin seemed strangely full, especially its abdomen, which writhed violently.
Flamme's mouth twitched, and she took a step back.
The white husk took a step forward. The writhing under its skin intensified, raising countless small bumps. Its desiccated jaw slowly opened, emitting a wheezing, bellows-like sound, yet its pace grew faster and faster, attracting the attention of other monsters.
Countless eyes from the shadows demonstrated Yharnam's hospitality to the uninvited guest. As far as the eye could see, there wasn't a single human figure.
First, retreat.
Deciding to avoid a direct confrontation, Flamme took a detour. However, another white husk blocked her way. The writhing under its skin could no longer be contained, and a mass of white matter suddenly burst from the concentration of its organs.
Splattered maggots struck her defensive barrier, but the true disseminator was a swarm of maggots that leaped from the husk, forming a humanoid upper body, clawing menacingly. The maggots had parasitized the corpse for so long that they had taken on a human form, and now they shrieked, wanting to seize the girl.
"I've really had enough of this!"
Suppressing her nausea, Flamme detonated a firestorm. The rising flames incinerated the monster, instantly turning it to ash and providing cover for her swift escape from the scene.
A short while later, beside a secluded hot spring.
Flamme was seen wielding a Saw Cleaver. For some unknown reason, it felt strangely comfortable in her hand, and was indeed convenient to use, giving her an added sense of security.
"It's very similar to the weapon Master described. Do Hunters really exist?"
To this day, she still couldn't be certain, or perhaps was unwilling to conclude. If this was that nightmare of cycles, it would be incredibly difficult to leave. Easy to enter, hard to exit, a truly unforgiving place.
Besides, when Frieren told the story, it was just a few casual remarks from the perspective of an odd anecdote; there wasn't much information.
She continued onward.
Suddenly, the light of a fire appeared ahead, very conspicuous in the dark city where day and night were indistinguishable. Seeing this, Flamme cautiously approached.
It was a group of men in trench coats, holding torches high and dancing wildly, occasionally screaming unintelligible words. The people around them also held spears, pitchforks, and cleavers, clanging them together.
At the center of the crowd was a wooden stake, the main source of the firelight. Piled at its base were countless human bones, and the burning smoke was acrid.
The atmosphere was strange. Should she greet them?
She couldn't just keep hiding in this corner and peeking; it was too rude. Besides, if she didn't ask questions, she wouldn't make any progress. It was better to ask the locals what was going on, even if it was a dream.
The red-haired girl strode out from the corner, waving her hand enthusiastically.
"Hello, are you having a bonfire party?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, there was dead silence. The previously cheerful men in trench coats stopped their movements and turned to stare, their gazes sharp and their faces contorted with hostility.
They all raised their weapons, let out a roar, and charged aggressively toward Flamme's position.
"Huh?"
Having stirred up a hornet's nest, her first instinct was to turn and run.
She couldn't just unleash a magic combo on them like she would a monster. Facing fellow humans, Flamme still intended to give them a chance, to first try and observe their reactions.
"Don't people in Yharnam talk properly? Are you this unwelcoming to outsiders?"
The answer she received was a chorus of howls. A voice from a boarded-up window she passed even cursed at her: "Die, outsider."
Even Flamme was getting annoyed.
It was one thing to be met with inexplicable hostility, but what was this about wanting to fight? Those were all lethal weapons.
She would treat this as a battle. Whether in reality or a dream, she wasn't one to suffer abuse.
As her master would say, if you feel threatened, you must strike.
Mana Bolt!
Spinning around, she unleashed a volley of the most basic magic, sending the mob of trench-coated thugs tumbling. They were blasted into the air or sent rolling, left disheveled, covered in dust, and in a pathetic state.
The clothes of some were torn apart, revealing large patches of black fur and mutated, overgrown muscles...
"The Scourge of the Beast again?"
Growing more certain of her location, Flamme drew a sharp breath. Combining what she had seen and heard so far with Frieren's fragmented information, she was even more certain that this was that city cursed by the Old Gods, filled with a bloody, lingering poison.
It was too real. Now she completely believed her master's casual tales.
Moreover, she strongly suspected that the principle behind Frieren's unique ability to "comprehend magic that doesn't exist in the world" was to experience other worlds. Powers on the level of miracles couldn't be measured by common sense.
In any case, Flamme had no time for further thought, because a large mob of thugs was rushing her.
Sword Phalanx!
While summoning the glintstone swords, she also brandished her Saw Cleaver. Fighting them at close range was the best way to gather as much information as possible.
Indeed, upon closer inspection, they all showed varying degrees of bestial transformation.
"It's pitiful, but you all need to be put to rest."
The red-haired girl's movements grew faster, each swing of her blade splattering blood. A certain desire stirred restlessly deep in her heart.
It was blood. While causing bloodshed herself, she also craved blood. It contained the power of an Old God, though it was diluted to a negligible degree.
Collect Paleblood?
In short, she needed to keep hunting to accumulate energy. Having made up her mind, Flamme continued her counter-attack, suppressing the impulse in her heart while observing the enemies' changes. As expected, a beast-crazed one appeared, transforming into a large hound right before everyone's eyes.
It was no different from the subpar one in the clinic, not even a worthy opponent. They had nothing but frenzied movements and strength; they were clumsy and slow, their bodies stiff, lacking in technique, and their footing unsteady. They were practically riddled with openings.
A short while later, Flamme had cleaned up the area.
Unexpectedly, she had no particular reaction. Then again, she had seen plenty of death. Whether it was the siege of the Fortress of the North Wind back then or the later war in the Labyrinth Kingdom, there was no shortage of slaughter.
Although this was the first time she had killed humans with her own hands, it felt unremarkable. It was, after all, an age of war.
Unfortunately, she still hadn't met anyone she could communicate with normally.
Aside from the hostile, withdrawn residents. But when she wanted to ask again, she found the presence had vanished. They were probably scared off by the slaughter.
Now she had lost another clue; asking for directions or information was impossible.
The red-haired girl hefted the Saw Cleaver and muttered, "Am I being treated as a Hunter?"
So be it.
She wasn't the type to let the beast-afflicted run rampant; she would definitely step in to hunt them. In that sense, she was no different from a Hunter.
Unfortunately, the residents of Yharnam despised Hunters. Because through prolonged hunting, they become tainted by the enemies' corrupted blood, and eventually, the Hunters themselves would succumb to the scourge and become one of them. It was a never-ending cycle, an unrelenting nightmare that everyone participated in.
Flamme felt a twinge of regret for coming here.
But the strong-willed girl quickly calmed her distracting thoughts and continued her exploration.
The sprawling, magnificent streets stretched out beneath her feet. It seemed night was falling again. The only solace was the shadow cast by the dim lamplight—
"Who's there?"
Suddenly, the red-haired girl sensed a normal presence ahead. Because her perception was hindered, she only knew it was a normal person; she couldn't tell anything else. Given the xenophobia of Yharnam's people, she decided to hide and sneak closer this time.
Flamme suppressed her presence with all her might, moving forward on tiptoe.
However, the target was quite sharp. They suddenly turned their head, and for a split second, their sharp gaze met hers.
"What are you doing in a place like this?!"
The other person noticed her first. Hearing the familiar, startled cry, she immediately ran out. It was indeed Miriadel's familiar face.
But her attire was completely different. She wore a winged cap, a black trench coat, a vest, and long trousers. She had the gentlemanly air of someone in a suit, yet also a stern, deadly aura. And for good reason—several monster corpses lay at her feet.
Clearly, a hunt had just concluded, and an effortless one at that.
"Sister Adelle, is that you?" Flamme asked with a wary expression. "But I can't be sure if it's really you..."
"It's fine. Let's talk, drink, and exchange information first."
"It's her."
The booze-loving elf was as carefree as ever, not changing her habits even in Yharnam. After a fight, she would chug down her drink without a moment's hesitation. Not even the sky falling would affect her optimism.
She was very happy to see this elder, which also meant that Frieren's contingency plan was safe for now.
The two began to compare notes on the spot.
Flamme explained that she had passed the Great Mage exam and learned of Serie's prophecy, and that Serie had helped her return quickly.
After listening, Adelle nodded in admiration.
"That woman really taught a good disciple. You're our pride. A beautiful job."
"By your human standards, this would count as bringing honor to your ancestors, right?"
"Thank you."
Even in such a critical moment, hearing such acknowledgment brought a smile to her face.
"My side of things was a real mess. I nearly died several times. It all started when one of the Seven Sages of Destruction used mind control to infiltrate with a stableman..."
She recounted the entire course of events.
The continuous, thrilling episodes made Flamme's expression turn serious. It was indeed very dangerous; the margin for error against curse magic was too low. A single misstep meant death.
What was surprising was that summoning Yharnam could actually awaken Frieren's splintered soul within the Water Mirror Demon.
As expected of a Mage of the Mythical Era, her considerations were thorough and interconnected. Using just a single replica as a vessel, she had caused the demons to suffer heavy losses.
In any case, Rivale, their strongest warrior, had already fallen in the Elf Town, taken down by Miriadel's combined efforts. Coupled with the loss of several other powerful demons, it was a crippling blow for them. If they could also take down one of the Seven Sages of Destruction, their strength would be severely diminished.
"So you two can work together."
"Don't make it sound like Frieren and I have no chemistry. We grew up together, after all."
"Sister Adelle, what exactly is Master's situation?"
Hearing this, the booze-loving elf fell silent for a moment, as if struggling to find the words.
In the end, she gave a general overview: "Her condition is terrible. The Old Gods ganged up and seized a chance to ambush her."
"Of course, it was partly her own fault. All that junk—the miscellaneous powers she'd cast aside—detonated at once. It's a real mess."
"You can think of it like this: the part of her divine power that had been suppressed is now seeking supreme expansion, while her human-like nature is resisting it."
"Actually, neither choice would necessarily be a bad thing for Frieren, but from our standpoint, it's better not to let the dream run wild."
Flamme wanted to say something but held her tongue.
It felt like a whole host of dangerous factors had been glossed over, but now was not the time for idle talk.
"What should we do next?"
"Collect blood and refine its energy. Basically, just hunt monsters and then deliver it to the Hunter's Workshop. The problem is, to avoid the Old Gods' influence, it's hidden in a deep, concealed layer of the dream... I can't find it."
The short-haired elf girl rubbed her forehead, her good mood gone. The matter was still unresolved.
She was anxious. The longer this dragged on, the stronger the Old Gods would become.
If they didn't join Frieren and put that wantonly arrogant Moon God in its place, everyone would truly be stuck living in a dream forever, and it might even begin to seep into reality.
Bearing this heavy responsibility, Miriadel dared not slack off, yet she was stuck without any leads.
"ROAR!"
The roars of beasts never ceased, seeming to draw closer under the influence of some will. Even Flamme could feel her heart pounding.
There was no mistaking it; they were being targeted by the Moon God that her master had been suppressing. It also held a portion of authority over Yharnam and was vying with Frieren for control. Causing a bit of trouble for outsiders wouldn't be difficult.
"Have you tried using Master's related powers to reverse-locate it?"
"I tried, but with little success. You should have noticed that the powers of normal systems are very sluggish here."
"I'm fine, though."
"Of course you are. Because from the very beginning, what Frieren taught you was a form of magic that integrated various systems..."
Miriadel paused, then clapped her hands.
"That's right! My grasp of this should be inferior to yours."
"Because before she researched the grand unification of different systems, I was already a mage. My style has carried over to this day, while you are the newest, most compatible version."
Flamme didn't fully understand but got the general idea.
She immediately asked, "But how do I know which energy is useful?"
"Of course, it's the Grace. The power of the First Flame is suppressed here, but the Moon God hasn't had time to deal with the new power of the Great Rune. Use your Grace to reverse-locate it."
Miriadel had actually received some protection from the Grace as well, but because she already possessed other powers, Frieren hadn't dared to go deeper. Flamme, who was a blank slate from the start, was easier to cultivate.
Thus, the world's first recipient of the Grace was something the Moon God could not have predicted.
Understanding, the red-haired girl cupped her hands to her chest and carefully felt the warmth of the Grace. There was indeed a faint spiritual protection. Find it, find the source, trace it back to its essence.
VMM!
Rings of golden ripples spread out, broadcasting the power of the Grace throughout Yharnam, trying to find an echo.
"You're certainly making a spectacle of yourself."
Even Miriadel, who was familiar with Yharnam, could feel a host of new monsters emerging, eyeing them covetously, grinding their teeth and thirsting for blood.
They drooled over targets with powerful life force, especially one that had voluntarily exposed its own position.
However, she chose to stay and protect her.
She couldn't find Frieren on her own; it was better to leave it to Flamme. This child had been clever since she was little, quick on the uptake, and exceptionally gifted. It was fortunate she had come, otherwise Miriadel would have been stuck for a long time just looking for the Hunter's Workshop.
Facing the monsters nearby that dared to provoke them, Miriadel didn't hesitate to serve them a Lightning Spear. Before they even entered her line of sight, they were turned to ash and vanished.
The red-haired girl, however, remained in a meditative state, completely immersed in tracing the Grace back to its source.
She completely trusted Miriadel's power, leaving everything to her companion while she focused on pinpointing the location. A faint power did indeed respond to Flamme, a trace of Grace from the depths of her soul...
"Over there!"
The moment she opened her eyes, Flamme felt the short-haired girl grab her by the waist and leap away forcefully.
A fierce wind rose behind them. It was a massive hound. Not only that, but several robed clerics were also attacking with weapons. Their bloodlust was completely different from the small fry before.
"The Moon God really thinks highly of us. It might not even be just it causing trouble; the wills of the higher beings are rejecting outside forces. In any case, follow your location and let's retreat quickly."
"Okay, let's get in and out quickly."
The two exchanged a look, both confirming the principle of not getting bogged down in a fight. They couldn't waste any more time; the longer they waited, the more complications could arise.
They leaped, and with a few nimble dodges and bounds, reached the rooftops. They advanced by running along the eaves, shaking off most of the monsters on the streets below. At the very least, those with poor mobility were left helpless, capable only of impotent rage.
The city's terrain was to their advantage, and it was inconvenient for the enemies to rampage, as the stone buildings were sturdy enough.
If these were the wooden buildings of an elf town, they would be smashed in minutes.
But it wasn't that easy.
Soon, several agile monsters climbed onto the roofs, leaping across the eaves and quickly catching up, their presence overwhelming. Some even lost control of their strength, fell, and died, but that did nothing to diminish their killing intent. They were determined to tear their enemies to shreds.
"Sister Adelle, since you're a veteran hunter, do you have a more effective way to deal with them?"
"There's no secret technique. My principle is to pick off stragglers and run when the enemy numbers grow. It's not about being a veteran; it's just knowing when to advance and when to retreat."
Despite her words, she was prepared.
However, her main strategy involved a large number of thrown items, like firebombs, darts, and throwing knives, all highlighting one theme: refuse to engage.
______
✅ Until 40 advanced chapters of ALL stories!
✅ Exclusive content and updates!
Help us hit our community goals:
🎯 100 Powerstones = +1 Bonus Chapter for everyone
🚀 55 MEMBERS = +5 extra chapters of ALL STORIES!
Claim your 40% OFF spot and unlock everything now:
👻 P - Walnutchan