The two ingenious techniques Charles had just used were the essence of the Hunter’s art, insights he had gradually grasped through one bloody battle after another.
“Gun Parry.” Firing at the precise moment an enemy’s attack reaches its peak, when their old momentum is spent and new strength has yet to gather.
This can effectively disrupt or counter the attack, while the tremendous impact may also briefly stagger certain enemies, leaving them wide open.
“Visceral Attack.” A lethal strike delivered at point-blank range by exploiting a fatal opening created by a Gun Parry or other means, inflicting damage far beyond that of an ordinary attack.
According to the Messengers, these two techniques complemented each other.
They were the signature skills of an experienced Hunter and an important measure of whether one could stand alone during the nights of Yharnam.
By wrapping the transforming Threaded Cane around his arm before unleashing a Visceral Attack, as Charles had done moments ago, he could further amplify its power through the weapon’s serrated tearing effect.
Meanwhile, the battle on the other side was also drawing to a close.
With Charles’s assistance relieving the pressure on him, the gentleman displayed astonishing combat prowess.
He swung the Hunter Axe in his hands, which appeared to be a Trick Weapon, with tremendous speed and swiftly dispatched the remaining deranged residents and creatures undergoing Beast Transformation.
“Oh… another Hunter, I see. Thank you for your timely assistance, my friend.” Panting heavily, the man removed his bloodstained felt hat and offered an elegant greeting, despite the blood already covering his tailcoat.
“My name is Gascoigne. You may call me Father. It is a title used in my homeland, though Yharnam has no equivalent position.”
Father Gascoigne was a tall man with a silk scarf adorned in exotic patterns draped around his shoulders.
Beneath his black robes, the outlines of a massive axe and a vicious-looking Hunter Blunderbuss could be seen.
“A pleasure to meet you, Father. I’m Charles. Are you also taking part in this… Night of the Hunt?” Charles unwound the Threaded Cane from his arm and returned it to its original form, replying between breaths.
“Of course! Look around you. There are monsters everywhere, all waiting to be purged! To tell you the truth, after doing this for so long, I’ve come to love the scent of the Hunt. Hahaha…”
Father Gascoigne grinned, revealing a row of white teeth.
Yet a sharp, nearly crazed glint flashed through his eyes, at odds with the laughter spilling from his mouth.
During their brief conversation, Charles learned that Father Gascoigne was also an outsider.
He had married a local Yharnam woman named Viola, and the two had two children.
He now served as an external hunter for the Healing Church, responsible for tracking down and killing those who had undergone Complete Beast Transformation.
“Caw! Caw!”
The irritating cries of crows interrupted them once more, this time louder, closer, and far more numerous.
They had clearly been drawn by the heavy stench of blood.
The birds were unnaturally large, nearly the size of ostriches, and their feathers gleamed with an ominous, oily black sheen.
They, too, were a mutated species affected by the Blood Ministration.
The ravenous birds pecked frantically at the fresh corpses littering the ground.
Then they turned their attention to Charles and Father Gascoigne, circling overhead before diving toward them.
“Get away, you filthy beasts!”
Charles shouted and swung his Threaded Cane, sending the serrated whip through the air in a lethal arc.
Father Gascoigne roared as well, whirling his massive axe like a storm and hacking the diving crows into pieces.
The two fought back-to-back, already displaying a measure of coordination.
Together, they cleared away every enemy, whether human or beast, then gathered a considerable amount of useful material from the surrounding corners and corpses.
Future battles would inevitably become more dangerous, especially inside dim buildings or narrow areas crowded with monsters.
A reliable source of light would be essential.
They therefore took several Torches they had just found, along with a small can of spare lamp oil.
“As for the ‘Paleblood’ you seek, I have never seen it myself. But the Healing Church controls every secret concerning Blood.”
Father Gascoigne wiped the blood from the blade of his axe before making Charles an offer.
“I can take you to the Cathedral Ward, the very heart of the Church. I may only be an external hunter with limited authority, but I will do everything I can to introduce you and argue your case. On one condition…”
He paused, fixing Charles with an intense stare.
“You must help me clear the monsters from the road to the cathedral. Things ahead will only be worse than they were here.”
Charles accepted without the slightest hesitation.
In his view, trading his efforts and combat ability for an opportunity to approach the Church’s inner circle and obtain information was both fair and worthwhile.
…
The two climbed the weathered stone steps on the right side of the square, mist churning around them like a living thing.
At the top, the Great Bridge leading to the Cathedral Ward emerged before them.
It stretched across a bottomless chasm, its length swallowed by fog so dense that it seemed to lead into another world.
The entire bridge resembled a cursed graveyard beneath the open sky.
Countless rough-hewn stone coffins crowded both sides of the bridge, accompanied by even more statues of human figures in contorted poses, their expressions twisted in anguish.
Some strained against invisible, crushing chains, their muscles knotted with effort.
Others knelt with their hands clasped in the most devout supplication, yet their faces were frozen in unbearable pain.
Some covered their faces as though silently weeping, while others stooped beneath an unseen burden, condemned to struggle forward for all eternity.
Beneath the mingled haze and blood-red light of the setting sun, the dark stone figures cast long, distorted shadows.
The sight was eerie and oppressive, as though the statues silently bore witness to the collective suffering and despair of the city.
“Look over there.” Father Gascoigne pointed toward a faint staircase descending behind them.
“There’s a hidden path at the corner of that terrace. It leads down into the labyrinthine sewers and the abandoned Dry Dock. Other Hunters are already stationed there, however. We only need to clear the monsters occupying this bridge, then continue toward the Cathedral Ward.”
His voice sounded strangely distant across the empty bridge as he added, “My original duty was to secure the square beneath the bridge. Since you’ve already helped me clear it, there’s no reason for us to remain behind. We can press forward.” Read the latest chapters at novelping . com.
“Careful.”
Father Gascoigne suddenly lowered his voice and extended an arm to stop Charles.
They had barely crossed a short stretch of the broad bridge when two massive black shapes slowly rose from the fog ahead, blocking their path.
Two Scourge Beasts stood before them, their fur as coarse as steel bristles and their eyes burning with bloodlust.
They possessed enough strength to tear through steel, but brute force was not their only advantage.
They knew how to fight together.
One roared from the front to draw their attention while the other silently circled toward the flank.
After a brief exchange of probing attacks, Charles and Father Gascoigne were quickly forced onto the defensive beneath the Scourge Beasts’ relentless combined assault.
One beast even knocked aside Father Gascoigne’s axe with its claws, sending a numbing shock through his arm.
“Move! We’re no match for them!”
Father Gascoigne was an experienced Hunter.
He knew that continuing the fight head-on would only get them killed.
He seized Charles by the arm, and the two hastily retreated, narrowly slipping into a building partially embedded beneath the left side of the bridge.
“Bang!”
Father Gascoigne slammed the heavy wooden door shut and braced it with his shoulder.
“We could deal with one,” he said between ragged breaths.
“But two together… Their coordination is flawless. Their strengths cover one another’s weaknesses. We have no chance.”
As he spoke, Father Gascoigne caught sight of a figure stirring in the shadows inside the room.
Without hesitation, he drove a fist into the mutant attempting to ambush them, knocking him down with a single precise blow.
Then, as casually as if discarding rubbish, he tossed the creature out through the narrow gap in the doorway.
“Save me… I won’t do it again… please…”
The unlucky man’s pleas immediately became piercing screams as the Scourge Beasts outside found a perfect target for their fury.
The sounds of claws ripping through flesh and bones snapping carried clearly through the door, enough to make the scalp prickle.
“Thud! Thud! Thud!”
The heavy wooden door shuddered beneath the Scourge Beasts’ frenzied blows, sending dust raining from above.
Yet the ancient hardwood and reinforcing iron bands held firm.
The two Scourge Beasts had clearly not given up.
They remained stubbornly outside, issuing low, threatening growls.
“At least… we’re safe for now.”
Father Gascoigne leaned against the door and released a long breath.