Bloodborne 141 Lonely

Surgit went back to the hunter's dream after he used the two bold hunter marks he had. 'This mark is useful, especially in area where I can get an even bigger harvest.' Surgit was very happy with how things turned out so far. The echoes he collected were still not enough for him to earn one extra rank in skill. He sat down in the workshop and got to work.

He had to figure out how he'd upgrade his skill. Bloodtinge wasn't something Surgit wanted to delve into. In his view, Bloodtinge relied too much on weapons that have affinity for it or on firearms. The weapons he had so far didn't allow him to use Bloodtinge. He had only heard about its power from Francis. That hunter that invaded them managed to kill Francis with just one shot.

'Bloodtinge is really scary. But with Arcane, I don't think I will have an issue fighting hunters with high Bloodtinge rank.' After he saw what the darkbeast was capable of, Surgit couldn't help but admire Arcane. Somewhere deep in his mind Arcane had even taken the top priority, even above Strength.

'So far I have acc.u.mulated six green echo cl.u.s.ters. I can fuse five of them into a blue cl.u.s.ter, but I need the messengers for that. I don't know if that will be for free. With one blue cl.u.s.ter, I can upgrade my strength by one tier. However, I can use the six cl.u.s.ters to upgrade my skill and Arcane.'

Surgit stood up and went to the messenger's fountain. He had to pay them a visit before proceeding to his upgrades. 'Hey little ones, where's the Tonitrus I found earlier?' The pale little creature let out a faint growl then disappeared inside the black pool. A screen formed right after the ripples on the fountain stopped.

Surgit looked at the screen and saw the Tonitrus. Next to it there was a message: "Yes: would you like to unlock it for two green cl.u.s.ters?" Surgit frowned at the screen. 'Everything here is paid for by the echoes. I don't even know if I need this thing right now.' Surgit shook his head then asked the messengers to display the screen for items. He looked for the bold hunter marks then asked for their price. 'One mark for one green cl.u.s.ter!' Surgit was perplexed. 'I guess for its benefit, the price isn't that high. However, buying it now is only a waste of echoes. No matter the place, if I clean it of beasts once, I only get enough echoes to create one green cl.u.s.ter.'

'If I but six marks, I will lose all my echoes to retrieve the same amount after. It'll be a waste of time, not to forget stupid. That crow lady casually gifted me three of them. I wonder how strong she is…' Surgit was absorbed in thought. When he came to, he jumped back. When a person gets absorbed in thought, they generally look in front of them without actually seeing anything. Their sight usually flies away with them into the realm of daydreams.

Surgit was picturing the crow lady in front of him gifting him the three bold hunter marks. When he came to and he was actually capable of interpreting the data his eyes were delivering to his brain, he saw the little messenger too close to his face. The pale creatures were small and had no eyes. When one looks at their face, they would feel chills run up their spine. If it weren't for their docile nature, Surgit would never trust them enough to drop his guard in front of them.

When he saw the wrinkled pale head of the creature next to him, Surgit's mind subconsciously went into battle mode. The wrinkled skin on the messenger's made them look like corporeal ghosts. Only these ghosts didn't have eyes or a nose. There were just some openings that looked like tears in s.p.a.ce. The openings were completely hollow and dark.

By thinking of the lady crow and forgetting where he was, Surgit was actually scared by the messengers. After he recovered from his stupor, Surgit hysterically laughed. His voice filled the empty s.p.a.ce around the hunter's dream. As his voice echoed far away in s.p.a.ce, Surgit felt even lonelier. He continued laughing with no control on how to stop himself from doing so.

All memories rushed over, from the moment he was diagnosed with that d.a.m.ned sickness to the horrors he had to live through in Yharnam. Surgit was rejected from society and lived in loneliness for a long time. When he found a little group who admitted him among them, he was somewhat relieved. Although he knew they didn't accept him for their respect for him, he still took that as a personal win and tried to feel good about it.

Then they arrived to Yharnam and most of them died. From all these people, he was given a second chance and became a hunter. That excitement overshadowed the loneliness in his heart. He didn't care if Yharnam was empty. As long as he had a chance of getting out and recovering his status among society, he didn't mind the loneliness.

The messenger startling him reminded him of how lonely he had become. He was surrounded by extraordinary beasts. The few people he could speak to didn't seem to be willing to converse with him for long. In fact most ordinary people either feared him or mistrusted him. The only friend he made here was Karla and she was mercilessly killed by that hunter.

This loneliness was so engraved in Surgit's mind that he subconsciously thought of everything around him as an enemy. The docile messengers scared him and pushed him into battle mode. Although they were probably just curious about his state of mind, Surgit couldn't tell.

He had lost control of his emotions and laughed uncontrollably. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he fell to his knees. After all the experiences he had been through, he never took the time to process his thoughts and emotions about the matter. All he cared about was to rush out of the city. After Surgit realized that he couldn't rush it as he planned to, loneliness came back and stabbed at his heart mercilessly.

After a long time pa.s.sed, Surgit finally calmed down and stood up. 'Is this why that old man created this doll? This place really is small and lonely. What is Gehrman's story I wonder?' Surgit walked towards the doll and asked her about Gehrman. The doll closed her eyes and slowly opened them before answering. It was like she struggled to find the memories in her mind.

"Gehrman? He was a hunter long, long ago. But now serves only to advise them. He is obscure, unseen in the dreaming world. Still, he stays here, in this dream. Such is his purpose." Surgit was startled again but for a different reason, a sense of déjà vu swept by him. Not only did the doll told him the same thing already, she also told it the same way, with the same tone of voice and the same movement in her eyes. 'This thing is scarily alive but I can still feel how it's not capable of intelligent speech. Was it Gehrman who created this doll? I saw a similar doll in that workshop in Yharnam. Just how old is this Gehrman?'