After receiving the rune workshop tool, Surgit went directly towards the tower leading to the Upper Cathedral Ward. He didn't bother using the rune right away. In his mind, the rune he received was from a beast he easily managed to dispose of.
Despite its strange powers, Surgit didn't think he'd need the rune just yet. So he went to the dark tower and started his descent.
Surgit's mind had become sharper than before due to the experiences he endured. He no longer omitted small details. For instance, as soon as he reached the lower part of the tower, he remembered the door he wanted to jump to earlier.
He remembered that in order to access that door, he'd need to jump from a high platform near the entrance. He stood on top of the wooden catwalks and looked down. Darkness welcomed him and he couldn't even see the platform on which he should jump.
It is fair to see that hunters had their senses enhanced to those of predators. They could see in darkness as long as some faint rays penetrated the area. Since the tower had no windows, the only source of light came from the door Surgit had just arrived from. He could see around him but he couldn't make out what was deep within the dark tower.
Surgit took his torch, lit it then threw it down towards the direction of the door. Surgit's eyes followed the torch and remembered every little detail the light revealed. The torch bounced on a small wooden platform then fell even deeper.
Surgit soon followed the torch's trail and jumped. He gritted his teeth and braced for impact. The fall seemed endless as Surgit prepared himself mentally. Although he knew his muscles will take the impact from the fall, Surgit still dreaded the impact. It was more because he didn't know when he will land.
Cracking sound was heard as Surgit landed on a wooden platform. Surgit felt the impact in all his body. If it weren't for his enhanced strength, all his bones would have broken and killed him as they pierced their way out of his body.
His knees shook as he tried to regain his balance. Surgit quickly injected a blood vial then jumped down again. He had memorized the place by looking at the torch's trajectory. If he thought about his pain or anything else, he was afraid he'd lose some of that memory.
It was crucial that his jump was precise. Miscalculating the distance by just some millimeters will result in him plummeting to his death. The second jump was shorter than the first and he soon landed on a larger wooden platform. In front of him, there was a small wooden gate.
Surgit looked at the gate and the patterns that decorated it. He was amazed at the care that was given to engrave complex and intricate patterns on that door. 'I might have stumbled upon something amazing here.' Surgit felt excitement building up as he pushed the door.
From all the rubble and destruction that this lower part of the tower suffered, this gate endured. Surgit pushed the gate open as dust filled his nostrils. He soon found himself walking through a tunnel. The tunnel extended for a short time before giving way to a familiar yet outstanding scenery.
A field with white flowers extended before Surgit. Far in the distance, Surgit could see a wooden house atop a small hill. That small wooden house stood amidst the tall Victorian buildings of Yharnam. Surgit's mouth was agape. He just couldn't believe that the hunters' dream he'd been traveling to for so long had its own replica in Yharnam.
'Wait a minute now, which one is the replica? Or are they the same thing?' Surgit's mind was bombarded with yet another series of question he couldn't hope to answer just yet. Just when he told himself that Yharnam had already shown its true colors, more mystery jumped at Surgit like a wild beast, tearing through all his previous theories.
If the hunter's dream was a replica, and if Surgit's life was bound to the dream, was the body he inhabited now just a projection? Or was the dream actually reality and Yharnam was just a shadow of its ancient glory days?
'Where the hell am I? Why is everything so damn enigmatic in this place?' Surgit felt pain searing through his brain. He clenched his head and let out a terrible scream. If someone were to hear it from a distance, they would definitely be wary of a great monster that loomed around.
After the pain had subsided, Surgit walked towards the wooden house. The sense of familiarity with the place intensified. He walked through the broken stairs many times. The only difference was that Surgit could feel wind on his face. He could hear monsters howling in the distance. Compared to the hunter's dream, Yharnam felt more like the real thing.
But Surgit's mind felt blank. He no longer wanted to know more about what's real and what's not. He felt that he didn't have enough knowledge to make heads or tails of the place. He went through the door to the wooden house and felt horror shake his being.
The place looked exactly as in the hunters' dream except for the fireplace that was extinguished. In farthest corner of the wooden house, Surgit saw the doll lying lifelessly on the ground. 'Whut?'
****
Francis had to take the trip, but in order to do so he had to get even stronger. So far, he was close to getting a new title. If he hadn't spent his echoes to increase his strength, he would've already reached the next rank in Bloodtinge.
He loved his katana. The weapon seemed to become deadlier as he mercilessly killed beasts. After Gavril left him that letter, everything in Francis' mind has changed. The letter was addressed to him by name. It was a summons to Cainhurst Castle.
The nameless hunter had duped him. He only recognized him due to his voice. Everything from the attire to the weapon he used was different from the man he knew. That man was terrifyingly skilled. After the fight, Francis realized how much he needed to develop.
He knew the man's name after he invaded them though. His name was Gavril. Francis swore he'd never forget that name as long as he lived. If Gavril was a hunter who still had access to the dream, then Francis technically couldn't kill him even if wished to.
Instead, he vowed to get stronger then chase after that man. If he couldn't kill him then he'd use all his strength to make his life a nightmare. Everywhere Gavril will go, Francis would be at his heels and kill him. He didn't know what Gavril's agenda was, but he vowed to find out and stop him no matter what.
His hatred for Gavril wasn't because he'd killed Karla, the woman he admired and looked up to. It was mainly because he felt dumb for easily trusting a stranger. 'I guess it is Karma after all.' I killed that blood minister who might not even have access to the dream. Otherwise she'd be chasing me now.' Francis was deep in thought as he stood in Hemwick Charnel Lane.
The invitation clearly stated that he'd need to stand at the crossroad and wait for the carriage to come take him. As he waited, he thought of his past deeds and what he should aim for. 'In this city, I feel like my younger self has resuscitated.'
Francis used to be ruthless. That's what made him one of the richest men in his country of origin. He understood from observing his late father that only the strong survive. If he wanted to get what he wanted, strength and witticism were the only key factors to success.
Francis had already made up his mind. If he wanted to transcend the hunt and reach his ultimate goal, he had to be his young self. He needed to rely on his wits but also in his strength and ability to come out victorious from any fight. He had a pretty clear idea on who he wanted to become in Yharnam.
First he had to know more about what happened in Cainhurst and gain more knowledge about the Vileblood that caused the place to fall. He felt that this information would bring him closer to understanding the use of blood in his attacks.
Secondly, he vowed to find out more about the Great Ones and develop his Arcane. The mix between those two attributes was rare even amongst experienced hunters. The two represented two mortal enemies: Vilebloods and the Healing Church.
As Francis made up his mind about his path, he looked up towards the approaching stagecoach. Two ghastly horses pulled an elegant coach and approached. Francis didn't even know how those two animals were capable of movement. Their heads were half eaten and skin was dangling from different parts of their bodies. Even ribcage bones were showing.
As soon as the carriage stopped, the door opened as if by magic. There was no conductor or people on the inside. Francis shrugged and walked up inside the coach. He sat down and closed his eyes as the horses moved towards the castle.