The Yharnam Hunter and the Chat Group

Yharnam wanders beneath the night of the hunt, yearning for the Paleblood. The Blade of Mercy leaves silver trails in the air as shredded flesh flies everywhere. Rotten meat and mangled corpses lie scattered about. The scent of ambergris, honeyed herbs, and camphor from beneath the beaked mask purifies the foul air.

Thanks to the endless rewinding of time by the foolish spider Rom, the old hunters need a reliable watcher to look after their successors and purge from their ranks every hunter intoxicated by slaughter and madness.

I am a hunter! The hunter who hunts hunters!

Wings beat, and thick blood drips from the Black Crow's long scarf, turning into an endless red rain. I will show mercy... You will wake in the morning light, free from the torment of nightmares.

A story about an old hunter wandering through different worlds. Some elements have been significantly altered.