STS Chapter 84: {Strings} (Patreon)

This... is rather boring.

I can't believe I am about to say this but I am... bored.

If this were me in my emo phase he would probably try to strangle me right now for good reason.

Who the hell gets bored and starts yawning while fighting a 2 story tall muscular and powerful beast?

Me apparently. I swear I struggled more against this boss while playing Bloodborne on Earth than right now.

With my supernatural level of perception and agility alongside my insight the moves of the beast appeared in slow motion.

It was comparable to playing Bloodborne but the game is at a fifth of its normal speed and there is a button prompt at the top that tells you when to dodge.

Also, I was doing this barehanded.

John, you beautiful blood-soaked hollow why are you fighting this giant deer monster with your bare hands you may ask.

Well, isn't it obvious? This is the penalty that I have put on myself for the quest which appeared when I decided to go bare-handed.

The reward was yet another random skill unlock.

Knowing my darned luck at best it would be something like lightning spear which while isn't bad, is not stronger than punching something at Mach 1.

I don't want to invest in arcane for a slightly stronger lightning bolt when I can invest in making these hands far stronger.

Although I say that I do not really enjoy using the Deadman style. Do not get me wrong, it's not because of pain or anything.

Actually, I am fairly certain I am mentally incapable of feeling significant pain at this point.

...I am not sure whether I should be glad or concerned about that.

Anyway, it's because of how incomplete it feels.

It brings back bad memories, it is a technique of separation. And not just that it's a self-destructive technique for the desperate. The core of the technique is nothing special. The effects seem strong but it isn't in reality.

One miss is all it takes for self-destruction to happen. Besides, it isn't actually a style or technique in the first place.

It's just temporarily removing the mental limiters I have to maximise the power my muscles can exert. This comes at a drawback of self-destruction to the incompatibility of the human body with its own power.

Honestly, I think it fits well, humanity embodies wasted potential after all.

It only works because an unkillable nightmare of a hollow was its user with his entire fighting style revolving around the lack of care for oneself. It isn't a style it's just recklessness.

Anyways what I am saying is that the style is crude. I need to refine it further, and with insight, I may be able to. I need to practice further. I know the potential is there, I just have to realize it.

Now I should wrap up this fight.

...I say that but the boss already died...

Yeah, it turns out that when I am deep in contemplation my body just turns on autopilot and fights on instinct. That makes sense, my killer instincts have already been honed to a superhuman level that I am able to intimidate beings that are twisted in nature and only exist to kill humans.

But damn, imagine being such a pathetic boss that you die to autopilot. Couldn't be me.

I looked over the maimed body of the boss and shook my head.

Anyway, let's hope whichever skill I recovered is good. If not I will kill the next boss with only pebbles. I am looking at you, riding lv. 7.

{ You have recovered the skill: [ Emit Force Lv. 8 ] }

{ Adjusting to world logic... }

{ ... }

{ ... }

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{ 10 Insight spent }

{ 25,000 Blood Echoes Spent }

{ +4 Bloodtinge }

Hey! You can't do that! That's my insight, I worked hard for those! Do you know how many guys I had to wrangle for those!?

{ You have acquired the skill [Telekinesis Lv. 1] }

Suddenly I experienced a searing headache, this wasn't like how I got my skills usually. It was like something had unravelled my entire existence and inscribed something into my being with a molten knife. Just that simple skill, just getting that did this?

...What the fuck...!?...

My hands trembled, this was not good. What the fuck happened to me? What messed with my body? Why do I feel different? What the fuck did that system do to me? What-

'Calm Down.'

'Panicking won't do anything to change the situation, stop crying. If you want answers then find them even if you have to turn this world upside down for them.'

Right, I still have enemies to wrangle, this just gave me the ability to murder them more effectively. Whatever happened to me just gave me the ability to manipulate the world around me to an extent using the concentration of whatever is in my blood to do so.

I concentrated and some of the fist-sized rubble from around the arena floated up and came to me. This wasn't magic, I knew that for sure, I was just doing it. Like flexing an imaginary muscle. It was completely second nature to me like how babies instinctively knew how to breathe.

But it was pretty weak right now, the maximum weight threshold was 100kg and the speed wasn't anything impressive either. I needed to level it up before it became anything useful. As I was about to leave I noticed something, on top of the altars was a skull, my insight told me it was important, that I needed to touch it if I wanted to make progress.

Before touching the beastlike skull I used inspect on it just in case.

[Skull of Lawrence]

Skull of Laurence, first vicar of the Healing Church. In reality, he became the first cleric beast, and his human skull only exists within the Nightmare. The skull is a symbol of Laurence's past, and what he failed to protect. He is destined to seek his skull, but even if he found it, it could never restore his memories.

Why would this help me? I asked but received no answer from the indistinct voices in my head. Regardless I touched the skull.

...

This isn't my body. I knew that as I saw a man in a rocking chair from my view, foreign memories wormed themselves into my mind. The man was old and frail, wearing clothes belonging to clergy and holding a staff on his lap.

My mouth moved involuntarily, having no agency in what I was doing felt horrible.

“Master Willem, I've come to bid you farewell.”

'Shut up! Stop it!'

“Oh, I know, I know. You think now, to betray me.”

The old man spoke and I was forced to listen in a body that wasn't mine in memories that did not belong to me.

“No, but you will never listen. I tell you, I will not forget our adage.”

These memories made a surge of emotions well up, loathing, anger, bitterness, indignation. Yet I had no choice.

I never have a choice.

“...We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood. Our eyes are yet to open..."

"Fear the old blood/Fear the old blood."

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! HAVEN'T YOU MAIMED MY MIND ENOUGH!? DO YOU SEEK TO OVERWRITE MY SELF TOO!? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND!!!!!!

The foreign memories forcefully inserted into his self started twisting and warping. Buried sensations long locked away welled up and tore apart the invading memories forcefully bringing him back to reality.

< {Mental Corruption lv.??} has levelled up! >

< {Mental Corruption lv.??} has levelled up! >

< {Mental Corruption lv.??} has levelled up! >

< {Mental Corruption lv.??} has levelled up! >

< {Mental Corruption lv.??} has levelled up! >

< {Mental Corruption lv.??} has levelled up! >

John grabbed onto the altar to stabilize himself, anchoring himself back to reality and away from the fake reality of those memories that weren't his. But the altar he was holding onto broke apart.

Whatever that was tried to invade his mind, fill his mind with memories that weren't his. As if losing his own memories wasn't enough now they tried to rape his mind further by inserting memories that weren't his.

{How dare they.}

Whatever this world was kept toying with him. Tugging at his strings, telling to do this, do that, giving him immortality just to do some task for them then be thrown away. A disposable toy soldier held by the strings.

{Nothing fucking changed!}

Yet again, he was a disposable asset, a fucking janitor made to clean up the mess of gods. He could see the influence "it" had over him, that it could simply choose not to revive him, but it wanted him accomplish his task.

Like the Darksign.

{ITS ALWAYS THE FUCKING SAME!}

He had been ripped away from his life once again. He had been taken from his loved ones once again. They had put strings on him once again. This world, this scene was crafted to send him in a direction. Do this and earn your freedom, do this and save the world.

'Now I understood the Eldrich contract. It's the same as the darksign, yet another collar placed on me by them. It wants me to achieve the goal it wants me to achieve, subtly moulding my path to point toward it.'

'I see now.'

With restrained movements, John pushed himself off of the ruined altar and proceeded toward where he needed to go from what he deciphered from those loathsome memories before he had torn them apart.

What he had failed to recognize was the skull that had been burnt to ash along with the ground that had melted around him.

A/N: What did you think about the chapter? I like reading your comments and suggestions they help me improve.