Yharnam Hunters and Chat Groups

Yharnam wanders the night of the hunt, thirsting for pale blood. The blade of mercy leaves a silver trail in the air, and chopped flesh flies across the sky. Broken rotten flesh, broken corpses. The scent of ambergris, honey grass, and camphor in the bird-beak mask purifies the fetid air. Thanks to the foolish spider Rom's constant rewinding of time, the old hunters need a reliable watcher to watch over their descendants and purge every hunter who indulges in killing and frenzy from the group. I am a hunter! The hunter who hunts hunters! The wings shake off, and the long scarf of the black crow drips with sticky blood, turning into an endless red rain. I will show mercy... You will wake up in the morning light tomorrow, no longer troubled by nightmares. ——————The story of an old hunter wandering through various worlds. Some of the settings are magically modified.