Caster stared out over an area of the Outskirts. He sat atop the tallest building, the place was dubbed the "agricultural center" and was filled with artificially enhanced plant life. These would provide vegetables and fruit, offering a seemingly infinite amount of food.
However, this was not the building's only purpose. It also absorbed the surrounding smog and used the excessive oxygen produced by the plant life to combat the toxic environment.
It was still unbearable, but it was noticeably different from the surrounding area.
As he overlooked the milling mundane rats his face fell into a neutral expression.
He had…a lot of thoughts about this whole situation.
For one, Gehrman's idea was insane. This was nothing new, the guy admitted to his own insanity readily. But then he also decided to "role-play" an entirely new person called The Red Judge. In Caster's mind, this was both incredibly odd and incredibly unnecessary. And he was fairly certain that the Ascended was just doing this for fun.
And indeed, this was his main concern.
Was all of this just a joke to Gehrman? It seemed so random, so needless, and so useless. Was he doing this just because he could? He just enjoyed power that much that he wanted to become something of a king in the Waking World?
Every instinct Caster had told him that this was the case. He felt the urge to run every day, to abandon this place and his so-called "sponsor". Naturally, Caster held no attachment to Gehrman. He found the man repulsive, unsettling, and rude. And yet he was perhaps the most dangerous man he had ever met.
Though a Master was a special existence, his ability to get what he wanted with no pushback from anyone was supposed to be something reserved for Saints.
He had met with Saints from the Government and the despicable Song Clan, and in both cases he seemed to come away with everything he wanted.
Gehrman had different values than any human ought to.
He threw away Ascended and Transcendent Soul Shards in order to buy a ridiculous amount of mundane garbage.
And yet, Caster was watching over it, dimly recognizing some of the people that he had been near these past couple of weeks.
At the very least Gehrman was teaching some of them to cook and clean, so that would not be an issue anymore. The idea of any Awakened doing menial household chores was utterly preposterous, and he had torn Gehrman a new one for suggesting otherwise.
Still, he was teaching any random mongrel reading and any skill of their choice. Nobody had taken him up on what he really wanted, killers and weapon engineers. Which was exactly what Caster knew would happen.
All he had accomplished so far was create a charity home for the people of the Outskirts. The only thing that might turn out to be beneficial was if the kids that stayed here contracted the Nightmare Spell and became Awakened, they could at least offer some value then.
But they would never reach the caliber of true Legacy Awakened, children who trained their whole lives to wield Aspects and Memories.
Caster was one such individual. The Han Li Clan had trained him well. He had learned honor, pride, and strength. Since these things were drilled into him at a very young age, it became a part of who he was. This was what made Legacy's so special.
Gehrman could not make Legacy's, Caster had mentioned that to him multiple times now. And each time he had simply replied.
"No, they will be Workshop Hunters."
The idea of a "Workshop Hunter" was still rather dubious to Caster, but he was beginning to form an idea.
Far below, a group of the children walked out of a building across the way. The "Workshop Proper" that they exited was still under construction, but it would be several times larger than everything else in this place combined.
Each of them had faces of absolute exhaustion, and they were sweating profusely.
"..."
Caster's subconscious decided to pull up some memories of his own. When the Han Li clan would train him, when his instructors taught him the old martial arts and essence of battle. He had worked for several hours a day.
The former Legacy frowned and looked upward to see the sun going down.
The children had trained for 12 hours.
They were not just familiarizing themselves with basic combat techniques, but they also studied to make up for their complete lack of education.
And what's more, it was much more focused than Caster's education.
Legacy's had a wealth of resources and history, they would teach their children of the "classics" and old works in order to make them more cultured. This was the political aspect of Legacy Clans, and it was the one thing that he didn't miss.
But these kids only learned of beasts, surviving, killing, and the Dream Realm.
Unbidden, a thought came to him.
If I had received this kind of training, I would be stronger than I am right now. I wouldn't have lost to that mongrel.
It was an unsettling thing to consider. Mostly because it echoed the values of his sponsor.
"Throw out everything that isn't absolutely essential. All you need to know is Hunting, nothing more, nothing less."
Caster grabbed at his temple, seething as he realized his thoughts had started to align with the most insane person he had ever met.
"What's with the brooding?" a voice interrupted. Gehrman, wearing his "Red Judge" attire stepped up to the roof from the adjoining staircase.
"This is pointless, they won't be able to kill even a Dormant creature," he repeated himself like a broken record. Caster was worried that if he did not keep reminding himself of this fact, that he would give into Gehrman's delusions.
"Yeah, right now they would all get slaughtered. They need a little bit of help…and a little hope, I think."
Caster raised an eyebrow.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Instead of answering, Gehrman walked up to his side before taking a seat next to Caster. He looked out over the same sight as Caster had, but he could tell that this man was seeing something totally different than him.
Caster could tell that his strange new eyes picked up on something he didn't.
It was either something that a former Legacy could not see, or it was something that the madman was imagining.
"In Yharnam, my old home, the word Arcane held a lot of different meanings. It spoke of the eldritch truth, the cosmos, and unexplainable phenomena," he turned to Caster with a smile. "It also referred to magic. Those in tune with the Arcane could slaughter beasts by the dozens by performing rituals and spells. If I could teach them that, then wouldn't it give them a fair shot against Nightmare Creatures."
Caster's response was rather muted, he simply gave Gehrman a dirty look instead of gaping incredulously at the idea. This was partly because he was used to this kind of talk by now…and partly because sometimes Gehrman was right.
"However," Gehrman mused. "That probably won't be able to happen until I become Supreme, or maybe even Sacred. Most Arcane tools in Yharnam drew upon the power of Ebriteas, since that won't work, they will have to draw upon my power instead."
He paused then. The madman pondered while Caster just waited for him to come to the next conclusion. A few moments later, Gehrman did indeed continue speaking.
"That kind of magic relies on one entity while also being complex and dangerous. But if the Arcane power was simple and safe, then I could leverage the power of that entity to sustain it."
Then, with a calm and genial smile he turned fully to Caster, looking him deeply in the eyes.
"Let's see what happens if I apply my Insight to a Caryll Rune."
…
A few hours later, Caster stood in an empty room with a scowl on his face. A strange contraption sat in front of him, about the size of a small suitcase. It seemed to be a rectangular old leather bag with folds and marks inside of it and an unwieldy stylus attached to it.
"What the hell is this?" Caster asked, exasperated.
"A Rune Workshop Tool. Just in case, I made it out of the hide of an Awakened Creature, so it should hold up fine."
Caster's skeptical gaze became overpowering as he glared at Gehrman's back with such ferocity that the man was forced to stop tinkering with the thing and fully turn.
"How much longer until you can blindly trust me? I am going to keep doing weird shit like this, it is not going to get better. And getting this response every time is getting annoying."
"I will never blindly trust you. Only a fool would trust an insane person."
Gehrman considered this for a second before nodding in resignation. This was a fair point after all.
A few moments later Gehrman stood and picked up the machine.
"Let's start with the [Eye] Rune. Though it didn't seem to get me more Memories, the ones I did get were almost always exactly what I needed."
He set the thing down on the table in front of him, facing Caster.
"It's fairly simple, all you have to do is continuously draw out the Rune, committing it to memory. The only issue is that the world will reject its properties and you won't be able to recall it after looking away. But I am going to hold the image in place throughout some dimensions by spending Insight. Theoretically, this will allow it to take root."
Caster nodded lazily, going along with it on the off-chance that he could actually have his Memory acquisition augmented.
A small spark of belief resided deep in his soul. A spark of wonder and change. Something that had been buried by his past experiences with the Han Li Clan.
Caster's very essence was set. He was a Legacy. He was loyal, honorable, and powerful.
…but he wasn't a Legacy anymore.
As he laid his eyes on the shape before him, he looked away, testing Gehrman's words.
Immediately, the thoughts regarding this Rune fell away. Caster felt his pulse quicken and his muscles tense.
No way.
He looked up at Gehrman whose eyes had taken on a new hue. A white glow overpowered his iris, leaving both eyes uniformly bright with the sole exception being the lingering ring of yellowish-orange madness.
Letting out a low, smooth breath to calm himself, Caster leaned down and picked up the odd stylus.
He started to trace.
It was a pentagram with an eye in the middle, but the shape was elongated and the lines had a slight bend.
He repeated his motions again and again.
Caster started to lose track of time, he felt as if he had been doing it for hours when he saw a light glow coming from the rune.
As he traced one final time, the light followed the stylus brightening the shape with each stroke.
As he closed the shape he felt a deep and solemn change within him.
He felt like he could feel someone muttering, but instead of speaking in words, they spoke in odd symbols and incomprehensible riddles.
Caster raised his gaze upward and he could feel something click into place.
[Eye].
The single word now held several meanings.
At the same time, Gehrman closed his eyes gently. Upon opening them, they had returned to their prior state. His gaze then lost focus slightly as he looked at his runes.
"Good, I only lost one Insight and the Rune Workshop Tool still seems to have Arcane power in it. It will drain…but lets see if mundane people can equip Caryll Runes. That, along with enchanted weapons from [Walking Workshop] should give them enough power to reliably deal with Awakened Creatures," Gehrman mused.
In his soul Caster felt that tiny spark start to grow, embers emerging from it.
To deal with the impossible, odd, and strange and become stronger because of it. This was what it meant to be a Workshop Hunter.
Despite himself, a small smirk grew on Caster's face.