A week after his Titanic evolution, Gehrman stood in a small park located on the edge of NSCQ. Though it was still inside the city, it was quite far removed from any Government facilities.
The meager technologies of the area had been fried, only the most basic communicators could send out emergency alerts to Awakened. Otherwise, there was no surveillance of the area at all.
Only three Awakened responded to the Government's call…but none of them had lifted a finger. This was a Tier 3 Gate, in other words, the Gate Guardian was of the Corrupted Rank. Fortunately, this one was a mere Devil.
Tier 3 Gates were much, much less common then Tier 2s. In fact, this was only the 12th that Gehrman had dealt with despite answering to alerts encompassing all of NSCQ, the Outskirts, and a hundred or so kilometers past that.
In all that time only half of the Gate Guardians were Devils. There rest were Tyrants…with one Terror being the exception.
Gehrman had been able to deal with 3 of those Tyrants by himself, but had to flee, or receive aid for the others. As for the Terror, it appeared well outside both NSCQ and the Outskirts, so he simply ran away.
A few weeks later, two Saints from Clan Valor went and dealt with it. Gehrman was quite perturbed that they hadn't invited him despite being the one to report the damn thing.
But it was dead, and that was all that really mattered.
Gehrman hummed to himself as he started to butcher the carcass of the unnaturally lanky Corrupted Devil. It was mostly made of bones, and stood at a towering height of over 30 meters. But now that Gehrman was a Titan, it hadn't been that difficult to dispose of it.
…It also helped that he had made an advancement with his [Walking Workshop] ability. And though its enhancement was not yet monumental, it would eventually become his most unreasonable power.
As he considered this, he imbibed some of the Corrupted Devil's blood. He felt the rush of strength and the whispers of Frenzy that always accompanied the early stages of Madness. The blood of a Corrupted creature made things more difficult, but it was ultimately quite manageable.
Gehrman's rapidly expanding pupils shrank back in mere seconds.
He blinked then, and turned his gaze to the side.
The three Awakened from earlier were looking at him with a moderately horrified expression.
He couldn't help but frown.
"What are you still doing here?" Gehrman asked, his voice curt.
They did not answer.
A deep breath tore its way out of Gehrman's throat and his eyes narrowed. They were scared of him, but not terrified.
"Ah, I see," a smirk appeared on his face. "You've finally decided to make a move."
Two of them flinched, but the one who stood closest to Gehrman stood completely still. His gaze turned cold. The large man carrying a powerful broadsword ground his teeth while looking at him.
"I'm regretting it just about now," the Awakened said. "I think I may have been played for a fool."
"Yeah, probably." Gehrman acknowledged. More casual words spilling from his lips. This was the only indication that he had just received six Blood Fragments, and was thus feeling the creeping call of Madness.
The Awakened sighed and then he reached for his Memory. The other two shot glances at each other before pulling out their own weapons.
Gehrman expanded his [Sixth Sense] and then let out a whistle.
"50 of you…how much are you getting paid for this?"
"Not enough," the Awakened mercenary replied.
Then he leaped forward, bringing his blade down. The force of the blow was impressive for an Awakened. He clearly had some sort of strength enhancement Aspect.
At the same time, ten different projectiles shot at him. They were well timed, the arrows, bolts, and fire would all reach him as the blade was brought down.
It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.
Gehrman raised his gloved hand. A small amount of blood trickled to his hand. The resulting shockwave shook the ground, but otherwise nothing else came of it.
The Awakened's eyes widened at the nonchalance in the Master's eyes. As the projectiles closed in, shields of blood, stolen from the nearby Fallen creatures, met the powerful attacks head on.
Some quaked, some cracked, but none of them shattered.
Over the past few months Gehrman's [Blood Manipulation] had taken another leap forward. He could now control several manifestations at once so long as the designs were practiced and instinctive.
Naturally, covering a certain area on his body or weapon had been done thousands of times, but the shields had been more tricky. Gehrman had used his new knowledge of physics to create a shape that would best disperse kinetic energy. After spending hours manifesting and dismissing these shields, it became second nature to him.
Combined with his [Sixth Sense] this new breakthrough made it nigh-impossible to ambush Gehrman.
As the Awakened hovered in the air, all momentum brought to a chilling stop, Gehrman launched a powerful kick that sent the man flying backwards.
A crunch sounded out as the man's bones cracked.
To their credit, the mercenaries were not yet dissuaded. Several more melee fighters appeared, and projectiles continued to fire down at Gehrman.
A wide grin split his face as he moved to greet the Awakened.
What followed was nothing short of a massacre.
All it took was a single hit from Gehrman to put the Awakened out of commission. His physical prowess was not quite at the level of a Saint, but he could deal out similar damage. It was only because Gehrman was not augmenting his movements by moving his internal blood that these mercenaries did not die instantly.
And this was exactly what he wanted, though they were trying to take his life, they weren't evil at the end of the day. Ignorant, wrathful, and short-sighted, but not truly evil. At least a few of them were only doing this for the money. For those individuals who were otherwise decent people, Gehrman had plans to make use of them.
Only ten minutes later, the entire group of Awakened were splayed out, all of them unconscious.
Gehrman's gaze slowly searched around for a bit, taking in the scene. The musty scent of the artificial trees, grass, and dirt in this park had filled the air; the potency of it somewhat masking the smell of viscera and death.
It was in a patch of destroyed grass that he found the first Awakened who had attacked him. Though none of them seemed very strong, and likely all had Dormant Aspects, this one had shown some gumption.
Gehrman sauntered over to the man. As he walked, he simultaneously dismissed the [Hunter's Attire] and summoned [Cainhurst Knights Attire]. A wave of oppression now spilled off him. As he calmly sauntered over to the Awakened.
He crouched down to the side of the man, slightly regretting that despite all the powers he possessed, he had nothing to decrease the pain of others or heal them.
Shaking his head, Gehrman unceremoniously tapped the man's face with his open palm. He stirred slightly before fully coming back to reality.
His hazy eyes quickly focused on Gehrman, and he moved to dive away, only to fall once again as the pain of broken ribs stabbed into him.
"No need for that," Gehrman chuckled. "I left you all alive and I intended to keep you that way. Don't go killing yourself trying to run away."
The Awakened stiffened at his words. His eyes darted back to his form, only to shrink away as the attire's enchantment forced a slight sense of reverence into him. Since the Awakened was already terrified, he was now put in the position of someone totally surrendered.
Gehrman nodded at his pale expression.
"Did I surprise you? Coming at a Master like that wasn't a very bright move. Even if there were quite a few of you."
The Awakened grimaced and choked out a response in stilted words.
"No. It wasn't."
Gehrman cocked his head to the side.
"Are you not groveling because you are in too much pain, or are you simply too stubborn," he asked with a smile.
The mercenary's eyes suddenly lit with fire. A burning hatred flared to life as he bit out his response.
"I. Will. Never. Grovel," he spat. "Not to you. Not to anyone."
"Pretty hard to do that as a mere Awakened," Gehrman passively observed.
A dark look passed over the Awakened's face. Deep within, it was clear that he held a special kind of spirit.
Gehrman's smile became less mocking.
"What's your name, young man?"
The Awakened bristled at the term. He was obviously a full blown adult, nearly middle aged, in fact.
"Malcolm," he said.
"Malcolm," Gehrman repeated. "Just so we are clear, you are working with that Caiman fellow to try and rob me. This small army of Awakened was never meant to kill me, but to delay me as another group went out to rob and desecrate my precious Workshop."
Malcolm's face went through several emotions in short succession. But it ended in scrunched fury and indignation.
"That old rat…he had the Government's file on you. He knew how strong you really were…We were sacrifices."
Gehrman raised an eyebrow.
"Sacrifices to me? I don't see how sending a couple dozen Awakened mercenaries at me is supposed to appease me."
With a pained groan, Malcolm shook his head.
Before he could open his mouth, the air suddenly grew heavy and a chill ran down Gehrman's spine.
A sound scattered the wind, a harrowing whistle with an oddly jovial tune.
Malcolm's eyes were fully dilated, and he was shivering as if he had been tossed in a most vile of blizzards.
Gehrman's eye twitched.
"Well…this was certainly outside my expectations," Gehrman turned his head, swapping between attire Memories once more and returning to the one with higher defenses.
Gehrman let the mask and cap of the [Hunter's Attire] fully form, encasing him in a way that allowed his bloodlust to manifest more sharply. In this form, with this mindset, he allowed the mask of the Red Judge slip and that of The Hunter return.
"My, my," came a giddy, old voice. "Such hostility for an old codger like me." The old man's black cane seemed to snap against the uneven ground. But despite this tool, he walked with no limp, and instead had the bearing of a most terrifying warrior.
"Don't tell me, the Red Judge is called such because all he sees is red!" the old man said the line as if it were a hilarious joke.
When Gehrman made no comment, only narrowing his eyes, the newcomer let out an exasperated sigh. "Another one with no sense of humour. I suppose a so-called alien wouldn't be able to understand a human's advanced comedic talent."
The old man stopped a few meters away, gazing at him as if he were an exotic prey. And yet, the humorous aura around him remained. The contrasting vibes made him deeply unsettling.
"Well…no matter. Forget I said anything. I don't like to fight, especially not with a character such as yourself."
Gehrman's face turned grim.
"You are funny," he said through gritted teeth. "Because I doubt it would be an extremely difficult fight for you. I've met a couple Saints…but I think you might be the scariest guy I've ever encountered."
The corners of the old man's mouth twitched.
"Oh…so you would even put me ahead of Beastmaster?"
Shit. Gehrman cursed. I might have ignored the Great Clans too much.
"Against humans, you are far more frightening."
For the first time, the permanent smirk on the old man's face dipped.
"They said you'd have good eyes…but that's a bit scary."
Gehrman let out a sound between a growl and a sigh.
"If you don't mind, a couple of rats have snuck into my Workshop. I was planning on heading over there. So if you wouldn't mind–"
"Actually I do mind."
Gehrman felt himself pale a bit at the monotone voice. His instincts were starting to stab into him, warning him of a great danger.
"Well then, make it quick," Gehrman said with more confidence than he felt.
The eerie smile on the old man's face returned.
"That's great! I knew you would be a reasonable man." The lids of his eyes fell slightly, forcing his face into one of geniality. "My name is Jest. It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Gehrman."