STS Chapter 95: Forbidden Woods (Patreon)

John's feet carried him through the nightmare scape of Yharmam, it was almost machine-like. Any enemy that dared come across his warpath got stabbed with a flying piece of sharp metal rubble.

He came across a sleeping church giant that blocked his path, normally he would avoid the annoying encounter but this time?

'{Full Potential}' All of his limiters were removed, granting him complete and absolute control over that power that laid dormant in his muscles. His body moved at extreme speeds, such that before the church giant even managed to lift his head up fully he had already reached around the church giant and jumped before planting his sword deep into the giant's brain.

Pulling the giant impaled body down with him John withdrew his blade before stomping on the skull of the giant, splattering it into thousands of chunks of brain matter and bone fragments.

Unphased by the gore he had created out of his own volition John resumed navigating the nightmarish maze that was the alleys of London.

As he was going down he encountered a blond man. Wearing a mix of clergy robes and hunter equipment.  When the man turned around and noticed John he seemed quite surprised.

"Are you... a hunter? My apologies of course you are. Oh, beg pardon, you may call me Alfred. Protege of Master Logarius."

But his words did not fully reach John's as his eerie eyes seemingly bore into his soul as they stared at him.

Or... did they see through him?

John's insight as his eyes bore into the man in front of him.

[ Cruel / Extremist / Twisted / Afflicted ]

It was as if voices were speaking into his mind without words to tell him parts of what he wanted to know. But it was garbled, like garbage noise, it only served to irritate. Yet somehow the window in front of him had compiled some of that incomprehensible garbage noise into legible info.

And clearly, this person in front of him was going to become a problem sooner or later. His destiny was long set in motion, he would go insane anytime.

'It's not worth it.'

John raised his right hand like it was like a gun with his index finger and thumb out mimicking a pistol. Alfred was confused before.

{ Telekinesis Lv. 2 }

'Bang.'

With a simple motion as if he had fired a gun John's fingers moved. And at that exact same moment, a powerful force like the punch of a capra demon had slammed into his throat, sending him crashing against the railings as his neck nearly shattered. He held his hands up to his neck but before he could regain a semblance of bearings to understand his situation.

*BANG!*

< You have slain Alfred, Hunter of Vilebloods +5,555 Blood Echoes +3x Fire Paper +Wheel Hunter badge >

John put his shotgun back in his inventory as he stared at the corpse of the man he unceremoniously ended for a second before taking out a fire paper and lighting and setting the corpse on fire. It was at least better than your remains being the dinner of a beast.

For now, even while exerting himself that blow was the limit to his telekinesis. It needed refinement before it would see any real use. John kept going his way until he found the door in that memory.

He saw a solid door, one that no hunter would be able to forcefully pry open. Coming closer to the door he could hear a voice.

"The password… ah…. the password… the password…

Knows that I’m at the door and got to…. got to close the door…. got to close…Oh no, no, no, no...Someone at the door. got to get the door, got to get the door. Who’s there, who’s there? Don't you wish you could hear them when they are coming... You mustn't... Oh, no, no... it bit me, bit me…he was bleeding...Oh, no no no no. He was bleeding... he wasn't...No, no, no, no not like that, no, no, no... Gotta get the door... Must get the door...No, no, no. Knock, knock, knock, all day. Knock, knock, knock all day, all day, all day, all day... all day, knock, knock, knock..."

To human ears, the voice would just be that, the voice of a man. But to John it did not like a living human, he instinctively knew it did not belong to man. It was like the words coming through the door overlapped with each other. Like the same person was talking over themselves.

He knew, he knew, he just had to say the words "Fear the Old Blood" and the doors would open. But...

Then he would still be dancing to their song, playing by their strings.

The mere thought of it filled his mouth with bitterness. His muscles tensed like elastic bands ready to release their potential energy.

'Deadman Style'

*BAM!*

With a sound similar to a shotgun Johns first slammed into the solid door at subsonic speeds. The door bent a bit under the force but John's arm completely shattered under the recoil. But John simply took a blood vial and...

*BAM!*

Another dent. This time it was slightly bigger and the recoil was slightly less as John adjusted the output of his blow.

*BAM!*

Another one.

*BAM!*

The pain did not even register. There was only a goal and a way to achieve that goal, nothing else mattered. The feelings of disgust and pain were nothing but hindrances.

*BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!*...

*BAM!*

The metal was busted open, brute force prevailed once more. Disregarding the puddle of blood and fragments of flesh and bone on the ground John walked past the door.

And as he had suspected, the "man" behind the door was a corpse, an old one at that. The voices were nothing more than his remains twisted and used by the insanity of this "world".

[+1 Insight]

Instead of taking the stairs down the dilapidated tower like a normal person would John just jumped down the whole way and just let his legs shatter on impact before chugging a blood vial. Walking out of the tower he was greeted with a nostalgic view.

A giant damp forest with an aura of unease that matched and surpassed that of the Darkroot Forest. And of course, this place also had tombstones everywhere. A London classic.

John jogged briskly down the moist and soft terrain of the forbidden woods before he encountered yet another huntsman. But this one's affliction had already progressed to a degree where the line between beast and human was blurred for their form, resembling a bipedal animal with human features wielding a torch and saw.

Dispatching them was not even a noteworthy event. With the exception of increased strength and agility along with reduced dexterity, the beast went down to a single stab through the eye socket. What was noteworthy was a jar of oil smashing into John's head.

Was he too distracted? Regardless his harrowing purple eyes locked onto the huntsman who threw the oil and before they could grab another jar pulled them forcefully by the neck toward himself.

*Crunch.*

Grabbing the Huntsman by the throat John used telekinesis to twist the arms and legs of the huntsman one by one leaving them looking like wrung red towels before grabbing a broken piece of a fence from his inventory and shoving it through the huntsman's stomach, stapling them to a tree.

Corpses and skeletons were strung all around the forest. Even the darkroot forest wasn't this bad. But then again the corpses there were already completely eaten by the flora there.

He resumed his brisk walk, showing the sharp end of his cane through the neck of any huntsman that felt lucky, after a lot of slaughter he passed over a bridge and saw a primitive trap. He felt insulted by the lack of ingenuity.

The forest was quite expansive, he found plenty of bloodstones and gems as well echoes. He came across a dilapidated shack or two. Which contained beast blood pellets.

Basically, the blood of beasts turned to drugs to turn yourself into a beast. Useless to him as he could already do that at will.

But really? These people saw what beasthood does to people. Saw the atrocities of the blood moons. And they made drugs that accelerated their loss of self and humanity?

John had already seen the bottom of the barrel of mankind. But somehow their lack of intelligence never failed to impress him. Humans were foolish things. Those who dwell in Yharmam especially so.

Ignorance was bliss yet they went out of their way to shed that ignorance. Willingly stepping into the insanity that was insight. The scholars knew what insight did to the other and they knew what it would do to them yet they still did it.

Shaking his head at the shitty world he had seen time and time again, corpses and brutality were normalcy to him by now.

Now with all other parts of the woods cleared his feet had carried him to the entrance of a village deep in the woods.

A/N: What did you think about the chapter? I like reading your comments even if I may not reply sometimes.