Chapter 10: The Wild
"In the White Fang's blood, my hands are cleansed, from innocents deceased, I will avenge."
Herman gritted his teeth as he stumbled through the cold alpine hills of Solitas, typing on his scroll. Though the sherwani provided some measure of warmth, he still felt the sharp bite of winter every time the wind blew. And it would only get worse as time wore on. He'd have to get to the Atlas Port quickly, or find shelter when snow began to fall. White Fang reports indicated that lowest temperatures fell to -20 degrees Celsius; enough to freeze a Faunus's blood in his veins. At least the cold kept most of the Grimm away; it was how Atlas was able to flourish in this Oumforsaken environment. But the bastards were slowly adapting; Herman had an encounter with a Beowulf with thicker fur than the one he killed in Vale. Still didn't stop him from cutting it apart.
Water was not much of a problem, as there was light snow and the terrain was hilly, he'd often find deposits of snow which he would pack into his canteen. Food, though was another matter. He didn't spot much natural wildlife; and he was down to two 'First-Strike' Rations, and old MRE which was sitting for Oum knows how long in his Rucksack and two URA! Bars, one peanut butter, the other raspberry. But those couldn't last forever. Sooner or later he'd have to stop at a settlement. For that purpose, he had changed into his Sherwani, white shirt and trousers; he hoped the townsfolk would overlook the military issue bag and boots.
The true challenge was avoiding the military. He'd have to be a true shadow, staying clear of authority figures. Now that he was thinking about it, he was wondering why he hadn't seen any Atlas patrols yet. Maybe they did not stray off the main road.
A rumbling in the sky made Herman curse; he'd jinxed it. Intelligence reports stated that their air-patrols had thermal scanners; the only way to avoid it was camouflage. But where to go? Herman sprinted amongst the trees. They got thicker as he ducked and weaved and the ground got steeper; soon he was crawling on his hands and knees as the thorny bushes cut into his exposed hands and face. The roar of a jet engine was getting louder, and if he didn't get to cover quickly he'd be spotted. The bushes parted, and Herman found himself at a cliff-edge. Still, there was a sufficiently thick patch of snow into which he hurdled himself, panting and gasping for breath. Packing himself in quickly, he lay still, hoping he'd concealed himself in time. The scout plane whizzed off into the horizon, and Herman stayed there for five, or maybe ten minutes before rising from his cover. Heaving a sigh of relief, he swung his legs over the ridge, noting the many protrusions and clefts in the rock from which he could descend.
He began to pick his way down, gently stepping lest the fragile rock and mud give way beneath him. Luckily it didn't, and Herman noted the lowering sun. He'd have to stop, cursing when he saw his position. To his left was the cliff, to the right the blue sky. To his front there was a gap between a wide outcropping leading to a cave and the thin shelf of rock upon which he balanced precariously. A gust of wind blew past him, causing Herman to suck in his breath and shuffle carefully. By his estimate it was five, maybe six feet away. Could he make it with his heavy gear?
No, he'd have to first toss his rucksack and weapon across. Carefully shrugging off the straps, he leaned out slightly, free hand clutching a solid-feeling cleft in the rock. One, two, three, he tossed the bag, holding his breath as it soared through the air and skidded across the rock to the front of the cave. Ok, now his weapon. Same drill; Nihil flew through the air and landed near the bag.
Now for him. Edging closer, he tried not to look at the sickening plummet below. He was almost at the edge now, which crumbled slightly. His heart pounding in his ears, he leapt, arms outstretched.
He hit the outcropping hard, the air sucked out of his lungs as he scrambled for a handhold. His fingers slid over the smooth rock until he was able to grab the very edge of the outcropping. Dangling in the air, he was glad he had ditched the body armor earlier. Still, his shoulders screamed and the bandolier around his sherwani felt heavy, the force of gravity tugging at it. With great difficulty he hauled himself up. Breathing heavily, his arms feeling as if they had been yanked out, he scrambled to his equipment. Fishing out a flashlight from his rucksack, he dropped it upon hearing growling emanate from the cave. From the shadows two beady malevolent eyes glared, and as if the beast was made of the shadow it materialized from the mouth of the cave.
A damn Beringel. Knowledge from the last fight flashed through Herman's mind as he lifted Nihil, the teeth whizzing, ready to rip and tear. Slow, heavy attacks, vulnerable from the sides. He dodged backwards as a blow split the rock beneath him and rolled to the right as it swung at him. Once more on the edge; Herman had to seize the offensive. He ran forward, jumping over the low blow it delivered, his feet barely clearing the shaggy black fist. The beast roared and beat its chest.
Big mistake, as it learned when the chainsword dug into its exposed side, pulling it in closer as it struggled to get free of the bite. With a roar of pain and anger it grabbed the boy by the torso and began to squeeze. Herman felt pain rack his body, and tears came to his eyes as the monster slowly but surely increased its intensity. His vision grew dim, yet in his slowly dimming mind he realized that his arms were still free, and the sword still stuck in its side. With a last bit of strength, he pushed the sword to the left, ignoring the scraping and resistance it encountered while hitting the bone armor. The world grew red and black, but suddenly the monster's death grip was released and he fell onto the ground, gasping and wheezing. His sides still hurt even though his Aura absorbed most of the damage. He raised his head and noticed the beast, now cut into two slowly dissolve. Wheezing in relief, he crawled into the cave, dragging his bag behind him and fell against the cold rock. He was snoring in a few seconds.
He was back home, lying next to a peach tree in the orchard. Heidi was beside him. Herman was content.
"You have a bad track record of keeping people alive, you know that." she said. Herman looked at her in shock; that cruel, savage voice like nails on a brick wall didn't belong to her.
She got up, facing him. With alarm he noticed her eyes were glowing red, like the Grimm.
"Anyone who trusted you is now dead. Lydia, Caleb, Warren, Flash, Clyde, Hassan and a ton of innocent civilians." she sneered. Out of the darkness they all appeared before him. Herman was on his knees looking on in terror as a shockwave hit him and fire engulfed everyone, distorting and mangling their features.
"Please! I was misguided... I was wrong. Please forgive me!" the boy desperately pleaded, but the charred and twisted faces of the dead showed no pity. Sobbing as he clapped his hands around his eyes, there was still no relief for he saw the faces of the dead peer at him from the darkness.
Howling, he looked to the sky, only to recoil in fear as a huge Atlas Paladin towered over him, blocking out the light. It brought its foot up and the metal column descended upon him.
"And your suffering will never end..."
He awoke with a start, his heart racing. Then the realization sunk in, and he began to feel echoes of pain from the fight. Noting that it was light outside, he realized the rumbling of his stomach. Rummaging through the bag, he tried not to think about the dream.
It was true. Anyone who ever trusted him died; he was nothing more than a miserable failure, a disgrace to huntsmen. He let himself be used. Herman shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but the thoughts persisted. The URA! bar tasted like wet cardboard but it served its purpose of filling him. Walking out of the cave he noted the fog. Good, the Atlas patrols would have a harder time of spotting him. Far of in the distance, he could note some sort of house. Who would live so far off in the woods, with all the Grimm around? Maybe it was deserted, and he could check it for supplies.
Herman grabbed the bag and Nihil and walked to the right of the outcropping. No direct way down, but if he could just climb the lower section of the cliff face he could find a new approach. He hauled himself up, and found himself upon some kind of switchback path carved into the side. Continuing his descent, he approached another vantage position from which he could view the house-or rather a manor to precise. Through a dense, color stripped forest of skeletal trees an old cracked and potholed tarmac road led to the manor entrance. It seemed rather run down and desolate in appearance. The boundary wall was broken down in some areas and thoroughly coated in green moss, and some of the outer buildings seemed to be in danger of falling down. Around the tallest spire of the manor birds circled; evidently, they were nesting there.
But the most surprising feature were the cages. Large, twelve by eight feet rusting iron contraptions lay around the grounds. Most of them had shattered, jagged holes in their sides as if something had violently burst out. Herman could see some sort of hook attached to the top. Oddly enough, he could now see some sort of cable wire attached to the manor's roof. The wire ran between the buildings, extending from down there to... how had he not noticed it? It must've been the fog, Herman thought as he noted with interest that 7 feet to his right the cable extended up to some sort of thicket. The branches of the trees in the thicket bulged outwards, as if something within was concealed. Herman stepped forward.
SWISH
He fell face first onto the ground, the world exploding into a painful darkness. Cursing, he got up, black and yellow spots dancing in his eyes. Looking down, he saw that he had tripped on some thick cable concealed in the moss.
A loud CLANG alerted him as he looked to his left, his brain barely registering the huge black cage burst from the thicket and descend upon him. The cage floor collided with his legs and he fell forward, clutching the bars for dear life as the well-oiled hinges snapped the cage door shut. He was now in this rickety prison which was zipping down the cable towards the manor at breakneck speed. The wind stung his eyes, blinding him. Now the only thing he could do was wait.
After what seemed a lifetime, the cage slowed down and Herman cautiously opened his eyes to see the cage approach a sort of gap in the lower floor of the main manor. He didn't have much time to reflect as the cage jerked to a halt and the door swung open. Pitched forward, he fell into the darkness and landed unceremoniously on his face.
With a groan he got up, dusting his clothes. His eyes adjusted to the dark environment, and he saw that he was in a dark wide room. The gap was high up on the wall behind, with no available approach up. There seemed to be no furniture, with only a few dirty broken boxes and thick mildew coating the walls, which seemed to have small gaps in them. The place smelled awful, like varnish and rotting tomatoes mixed together. Taking a step forward, he recoiled as something crunched beneath his foot. Looking at the bundle of tattered, filthy red rags, he realized with a sick feeling in his stomach that he had trod on a skeleton. How long had it been there?
Suddenly a speaker concealed somewhere in the room rang out, the audio quality scratchy.
"Another student! Wonderful! May I, Headmaster Gerhard 'Hus' Rothad welcome you to the Wildlands Academy of Atlas!"