All of Ludwig's background thoughts faded away as the light of Guidance pulled his holy blade toward the most optimal spot.
Ever since taking up the Holy Moonlight Sword he had followed this spark of white and it had led him to better and better places, and in combat especially it proved invaluable.
In truth, he was not entirely in control of this Arcane blade that made him so famous and powerful. The sensations that coursed through him in battle were all so natural, that when the transient moonlight flew forward to devastate his enemies, he had not even willed it so. It simply was there when he needed it.
That being said, the sword could not be wielded without finesse.
This was a prime example, up against three worthy opponents, Ludwig found their individual strength almost a match for his.
They wielded curved blades from the East, one that was similar to what was wielded by one of the last surviving mercenaries - Yammamura the Wanderer.
It was unclear how this type of blade made it into the hands of those up north in Cainhurst, but they wielded it with no less dexterity than the sellsword.
If it was one-on-one this wouldn't have been an issue. Though the lighter weapon would be quicker, Ludwig's had more reach, especially considering the Arcane aspect of his weapon.
But with three of those things against him, it became much more difficult. The spacing and quickness required to keep all three at bay was tough, even for him.
He needed one of them dead.
Brador was powerful, but the feeling of dread he got when looking at that platinum haired Cainhurst Hunter was as dreadful as the aura that Gehrman himself evoked. Wielding the Blades of Mercy also gave him an edge. Though the reach was incomparable with Brador's fiendish Bloodletter they were made of siderite, the same material used in Gehrman's blade.
Forged from that material which had been from the stars, there was no known substance that could break it.
Eventually, Brador's Bloodletter would surely fail and he would die.
The Workshop Hunters, the remaining Holy Blades, and the other mercenaries were all up to their necks with the beasts of the Fishing Hamlet.
Their initial intention at a systematic invasion had failed, and they had been forced into a brutal slug fest after the fish-folk were suddenly up in arms about something. It seemed that each of them lost their wilted humanity and were overcome with bloodlust.
Then Brador had launched off following the sound of a deafening explosion. Fearing the worst of beasts was in that area they went there, only to be ambushed by other humans.
…or so he thought.
Each of these Cainhurst warriors moved oddly quickly. It was not just their strength that made them fast, but it was as if something pulled them along.
Then came the blood, expanding the reach of their blades, the sharp red edges cut through the whistled through the air deadly intent.
They were beasts as well, Ludwig realized, only a different, and much more vile.
The guiding light had been flitting about oddly throughout the fight. Occasionally, a separate flicker would appear far off in the distance, so faint he had thought he had hallucinated it.
Still, it remained a constant.
He expected it to be some approaching beasts of Innsmouth, but none came.
Something was off.
But as Ludwig weaved between bullets he realized he didn't have the time to care. It was time to be a bit brash.
He didn't like using the Blood, the light faded while the healing coursed through him, only returning after he had shaken off any stupor that the Blood might have given him.
Still, Guidance had shown him more than enough. The way they fought was all similar, like they had been trained by the same instructor. And while that teacher had been good, the uniform style still left room for exploitation.
On his backfoot, Ludwig suddenly planted, converging his weight, energy, and soul into a solid point. Immediately, several bullets fired, attempting to interrupt him.
Leaning down the first bullet only nicked his ear while the second shattered his collar bone.
However, that was not enough to be fatal.
The third bullet did not reach him as a wave of blinding moonlight was released in a single piercing stab.
Ludwig moved too, the movement artful and perfect. And the explosion of Arcane energy disintegrated the bullet before doing the same to the Cainhurst warrior who had fired.
Grunting Ludwig gave himself cover with a broad wave of light, then he stuck a blood vial in his leg and let his bones snap back into place.
It was a testament to his powerful will that he did not scream in agony.
Returning both hands to the sword's hilt, he went to face the other two who had dodged the sweeping blow.
If they were saddened by their comrades death, they did not show it, already launching themselves forward in a bid to kill Ludwig.
The three fell into a rhythm of devastating battle. Each blow was enough to cut down a beast in a single blow. Dodging and parrying, Ludwig let himself get lost in the hum of steel against steel.
The Guiding Light would soon return and show him the path towards perfect victory, but until then, Ludwig wouldn't mind the challenge of putting these two down by himself.
…
As Gehrman considered the scene happening above the well, he thought on his next move.
[You have slain a Great Monster, Seasworn Shark Fiend.]
Gehrman frowned at the notification. He was nowhere near a battle with one of those things so there was only one real reason he received the message.
He turned back toward the ocean and considered using [Eyes on The Inside] to peer through the caves and spy on the Great Demon that he had attacked with the [Wrathful Shaman Bone Blade].
But he decided against it.
After being upgraded to the Transcendent Rank, the Memory had become even more greedy with his Essence, now taking 3 of his Ascended Soul Cores in order to apply its potent effect on his enemies.
With all the grand and complex blood manipulation he had been doing, Gehrman's supply had been drained 5/7ths of the way.
In other words, he didn't need to spend Essence to check on the situation that wouldn't affect him anymore.
From that notification alone Gehrman could surmise the situation.
The jelly fish-thing was still going crazy, obviously, and its enraged kills were being attributed toward Gehrman.
This was new.
Before when Goliath had been on a rampage and Gehrman had been leading it around the Antarctic Center, taking out any Gates he found, none of the deaths left in the wake of Goliath's tantrum were attributed toward Gehrman.
The fact that he was getting these notifications now meant one of two things. Either the nature of the Wrath had changed when it became of Transcendent Memory (thus leading toward Gehrman getting credit) or it had to do with the nature of the enemies that were now being killed.
At the moment, the latter seemed more likely.
While all of these Nightmare Creatures were called different things, they each came from the same source; the Kos Parasites.
At the start of the Nightmare Gehrman had noted that they appeared to move as a type of hive mind, and this seemed to be confirmed by the fact that the Great Demon wasn't dead yet.
The jelly fish-creature was a terrifying enemy no doubt, but the physicality of those Great Monsters that surrounded it were more than potent enough to eviscerate the Great Demon if they worked together.
But they hadn't.
It seemed that the greater consciousness was not willing to lose its largest vessel, and was willing to ride out the momentary affliction of Wrath.
Perhaps it was this choice that caused the Spell to recognize the kills as his own…or maybe Paleblood was just using its enhanced control over the world to give Gehrman some unfair advantages.
Either way, Gehrman wasn't going to complain.
Especially since each kill was a chance to give him a powerful Memory or another Blood Rock.
At that moment, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Gehrman looked around startled, and found Phantasm facing him, a large anchor hoisted on his shoulders.
The Echo was shaking a bit. Gehrman raised an eyebrow.
Phantasm was trembling with anticipation. Waiting for the order to go forward and carve a path of bloody murder amongst the fish creatures.
At least, that was how Gehrman understood it.
Perhaps he was projecting a bit on his new friend.
"Right, no use waiting around while our kills get stolen."
With that Gehrman expanded his [Sixth Sense] and took count of the situation above him.
At the moment, the Pseudo-Supremes, Ludwig, some Holy Blades, and the Cainhurst Royal Knights were fighting on the other side of the Hamlet.
Though Gehrman could be revived numerous times, getting in the middle of that could be dangerous.
In a fair fight, it didn't matter how many times Gehrman got revived, against Gairm or whoever the other one was, he doubted he could overcome the raw physical difference between them.
Gehrman would get killed again and again, breaking down his Cores and draining him of his Blood Fragments until he was well and truly dead.
The same would occur if he was caught in the middle of multiple Transcendent foes.
Despite getting past multiple Great creatures and having Phantasm on his side now, he could not get careless.
His eyes narrowed as he took in the cacophony of the battle above and made his decision.
His Charm beat like a second heart on his chest and with that thrumming guiding him he sent Phantasm an order.
Gehrman needed to be careful with how he showed up in this battle, he didn't want to appear insane or like a threat, but he didn't want to seem off either.
It was hard to climb out of a well and look as magnificent and threatening as the First Hunter would, especially when there were dangerous Corrupted creatures and powerful Transcendents above.
So instead, he got to the top, and let himself drop right back down on Phantasm's waiting anchor…before being flung unceremoniously through the top of the stone well.
Gehrman was falling a short bit down, and then he was high above the town of Innsmouth in a matter of seconds.
He had told his Echo to be gentle with the act of tossing his master into the sky, but with the strength of a Supreme being, apparently gentle was still something that broke the sound barrier.
If it weren't for the fortification of his physical body from the [Greedy Bloodstone Talisman], Gehrman's Ascended body very well would have broken in several places during the flight up.
Still, it achieved the desired effect.
Instantly the entire battle in the plaza halted as the human shot out of the well like a missile.
And then, a deafening explosion sounded far below them.
"Get back!" Gehrman's gruff voice cut through the air, reaching the humans down below.
As he started to fall, he noticed that the first to move were his own students.
At this point, the Workshop Hunters were not the most powerful group. Maria, of course, was already a force to be reckoned with, and there were 4 others who were at the level of Transcendents in this Nightmare.
Among them, the yellowish garb of Henryk was most visible. The others Gehrman recalled as ones who were promising, yet would soon meet a dreadful end.
It was actually amongst the Masters that he saw more familiar faces, one of which, surprisingly, was Archibald. The man who would one day be known as a heretic.
By the time Gehrman landed deftly atop a building, casting a haunting silhouette over the Hamlet, some of the Holy Blades and Mercenaries had also recognized him and had followed his command.
Those who didn't would soon regret it.
The entire ground of the plaza shook, and even the fish-folk looked down nervously.
Then, it all started to collapse. A sinkhole formed in the city, as the giant pillar that had been holding up the cavern below had been utterly shattered by Phantasm.
Without that support, a cascade of failures occurred. The stone paths fell dozens of meters into the depths below, a few buildings collapsed, and the humans and Nightmare Creatures closest to the center disappeared into the murky darkness.
A detached expression covered Gehrman's face as he gave the order to Phantasm to put on a show.
The Echo could not offer an eerie scream or squeal, so instead, it let its prey make the sound.
Tendrils of the 5th Rank moved like gripping hands, tearing apart the Nightmare Creatures and giving the humans quick deaths all at the same time.
A few grey tendrils also cut through the smoke from the debris, letting those still lingering above to catch a glimpse of the horror beneath.
"Master, you're here." Maria landed beside Gehrman atop the building he was on, and the rest of the Workshop Hunters naturally gathered around him.
"Thought you'd gone mad, Laurence'd said so," another deep voice said. Henryk had, at some point, made his way up there too. All the Workshop Hunters looked at him with reverence and something else he couldn't place.
"I did go mad," Gehrman said bluntly. Cutting through the sudden relaxed camaraderie with his words as if they were a knife.
"I am mad. Or rather, insane…perhaps corrupted is the better word." Gehrman stood and brandished his [Burial Blade] tricking the weapon into its curved sword-form.
"I can hear the whispers of that damn whale-thing even after I gutted its corpse well and good…in fact all I seemed to do was piss it off. Something crawled out of that blubbery thing and is now on a war path after me."
Gehrman used vague terms to hint at some much larger story that didn't exist. He was spouting bull shit to distract his students.
"The creature down there, it came from the corpse of Kos?" Maria asked incredulously. Her words caused the others to stiffen. Clearly, despite theology not being their forte, they had been briefed about what made this place so special, and dangerous.
"The good news is it's only after me," Gehrman said. "At the moment, it's nothing more than an infant throwing a tantrum, only it has some god-like strength behind it."
To prove this point, dozens of more tentacles shot upwards, thrashing about maniacly and taking a few fish-folk down below.
Already, the abominations of Innsmouth were responding to this new threat. While a few of the Beasts were dragged down, several harpoons, spears, and other weapons were hurled downwards.
Phantasm was strong, exceptionally so, but he didn't actually have the strength of a god. The only reason Gehrman was hearing a chorus of death announcements from the Spell at the moment was because they had used the terrain to their advantage, and despite the number and size of the tendrils - Phantasm could hide his true form within the debris and smoke.
However, the smoke was settling.
A few of the living mercenaries, including Logarius and the remaining Holy Blades, were already jumping down to fight off the new grave threat.
"...You lot shouldn't be here," Gehrman said coldly. He then turned to look at each of them in turn. "I know why you came, and I'm proud of each and every one of you. But your job is to hunt beasts. Not whatever these things are. Especially not when the entire place has become a war zone. This isn't the Hunting I've trained you for."
Internally, a well of complicated emotions battled within Gehrman.
He recalled Caryll's words, he recalled his own greed, and he also felt logic.
The idea to slaughter everyone, to take every like and see it as a chance to get a Memory…it had never really applied to everyone. Gehrman had thought it had, for a while. But when he saw his students he realized that even if he got a Memory for every one of them, he couldn't bear to take their lives.
Besides, what would it give him? He already had dozens of Transcendent Memories, and Ascended Memories would become much, much more common after this whole fiasco with the Chain of Nightmares was over.
His greed was overwhelming, but he wasn't stupid.
The reason Gehrman could do this much slaughter, this much inhuman manipulation, was because he knew that they were all fakes and would soon be returned to nothingness.
However, feeling their blood under his nails, seeing the light leave their eyes, hearing their voices cry out in confusion and despair…he had enough Madness already. He didn't need to add that to the pile.
Not for a few paltry Memories at least.
It was strange, Old Gehrman wasn't the sentimental type, but it appeared the current him (with the old man's memories) was. Even if the First Hunter would have thrown away the lives of his students, the Last Hunter wouldn't do the same.
So he sucked in breath and let his bloodlust rage outward. He let Frenzy fuel him, Bliss kept him in check, and Obsession focused on him. He let the aura of Madness encompass the entire area, and only then did he turn to his students.
"Go. Now. Leave the rest to me."