"Team CVFY, report."

"Without mincing words, Headmaster, the mission was a disaster." Miss Adel spoke, "Of some 263 villagers, we were only able to save 27 of them."

"And the Grimm?"

"Still infesting the village when we left. On the outskirts near the caves the survivors were hiding in, they were mostly cleared out."

That mostly aligned with the digital report Miss Adel had submitted, but Ozpin always preferred hearing the outcome from his students' own mouths. This way, they were to face - and take responsibility, for their actions on a mission. As always, Team CVFY did not disappoint, he was sure they would make splendid Huntsmen and Huntresses when they graduated.

"As the circumstances were out of your control, I cannot fault you for the failure of your mission. As such, I will add this to your record as a mission completed."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"Now then, what do you suggest can be done to avoid such a situation happening in the future?"

Team CVFY discretely looked at each other, using Mister Alistair's Semblance of Telepathy to great use, he imagined. Communicating in the midst of battle so would be a great boon, but they still had to remove the habit of looking each other when communicating through telepathy.

"We would suggest creating Huntsmen outposts located in well-established villages and towns."

Ozpin leaned back into his chair, "But you realise that Huntsmen are not obliged to follow the orders of any academy, association, or state? Do you imply that Vale modify its laws to match Atlas'?"

At that Miss Adel seemed stumped. Unfortunate, but this was not the first time such an issue has occurred. It has come up many times, in fact, but due to the nature of Huntsmen laws, little could be done about it. As he was going to continue with his next point, Miss Scarlatina stepped forwards.

"Not at all, Headmaster. Already, the fourth-years have a 'internship' period, and are hired by various companies and people for protection, others also take up offers from the Mission Board." She explained, "I would suggest Beacon Academy dispatch fourth-years to the frontier settlements as part of this period - this would not only rectify this issue, but also help them gain valuable experience for the future."

"Quite splendid, Miss Scarlatina. Indeed, your words will be taken into consideration - perhaps in your fourth year, your team might just be dispatched to the frontier as you suggested." He clapped, "Now then, are there any other things you would like to detail, that was not included in your digital report?"

There was a pause there, as well. It appears they had something they were unsure of, this was of no issue. The unexpected was not uncommon in missions, and for second-years like they are it was only natural they were still inexperienced. However, he would not press them - for if it was not included in their report then by nature this detail was unimportant in the grand scheme of the mission.

Admirably, they did not keep it to themselves.

"There is, sir. When we arrived, another Huntsman had already been in the region. If… if it were not for him, I could believe there would be no survivors at all."

Well, having their mission 'stolen' by another Huntsman could undermine their confidence - and the validity of their mission completion. This was indeed the reason that by law, Huntsmen were not allowed to 'steal' missions, and it was one heavily enforced by the Huntsmen Association.

"Is that the issue? I assure you, your record would not be tarnished by the circumstance."

"No, that isn't it. It's just… he was suspicious."

A rogue Huntsman? Oh dear, this was quite the issue indeed. Professional Huntsmen were one-man armies, this was why Atlas had formed the Special Operations Unit, to minimize Huntsmen crimes. It was for the same reason the Association was founded, as only Huntsmen could match Huntsmen - and despite this the Mission Board was still full of bounty contracts against rogue Huntsmen.

"How so, Miss Adel?"

"Well, he didn't give us name, saying that he had forgotten his. He also spoke of travelling all the way to Lower Cairn from the Sea of Sanus, alone. Lastly, he was 'infected,' by his own words."

Not citing a name was common for rogue Huntsmen, raising his suspicions. Travelling alone for miles through Grimm-infested forest, however, was completely insane - even for rogues. It was a massive testament to his skills if it were true.

"Please write a full, detailed report of this encounter and submit it to me as soon as possible." He told them, tinting his voice with urgency to belie the significance of the issue, "Could you recall what he was wearing, and the nature of this 'infection?'"

"Yes, Headmaster." Miss Adel spoke confidently, as expected of her when it came to fashion, "He was wearing an old duster, with a cravat even - like something out of an old classical film. He also wore a tricorne and a desert cloak, something like what Vacuans wore."

"Adding on the 'antiquated look,'" Miss Scarlatina continued, "He wielded two weapons, an old flintlock called Evelyn, and a… nasty looking cleaver. I've already taken a picture of Evelyn, and will include in the report."

"Wonderful. Now, the 'infection?'"

Curiously, it was the usually reserved Mister Alistair that spoke up.

"He called it the 'scourge,' and the 'beast blood.' According to him, the 'scourge' had wiped out his hometown, and was incurable." He reported, "He seemed to imply that he would kill himself when the 'scourge' took over him. In his words, he would grow fangs and claws, and he would lose his sanity, becoming 'of the same beasts he swore to slay.'"

The team then told him of how the illness was spread, through contact with the bloodstream. This was fortunate, for it meant infection rates would be low, be he would still screen Team CVFY and the survivors of Lower Cairn just in case. They also told him of the 'beast blood's' similarity to faunus blood.

"He also mentioned a place called Cainhurst, where Evelyn was made."

"I'm afraid I have not heard of that place, but I will research into it." He put his hands together and stared at them, "Thank you, is there anything else you would like to say?"

Curiously, Miss Scarlatina seemed unsure of whether she wanted to speak, opening and closing he mouth several times. Unfortunately, she decided that she had nothing to declare, and shrunk back.

"Nothing else, Headmaster."

"Good, thank you. You are dismissed, take some rest - you are allowed to miss your lessons for today and tomorrow."

Ozpin swivelled his chair around to face the window, but kept an ear to Team CVFY as they walked to the elevator.

"Hey," he heard Miss Adel say, "Why didn't you tell him about the bullets?"

"I don't know… a feeling, I guess?"

Bullets, hmm? Something to do with 'Evelyn,' perhaps. He would look into it, but what kind of Headmaster would he be if he did not trust the instinct of his students? Instinct kept a Huntsman alive, he knew this, so Ozpin would trust Miss Scarlatina's decision.

While he was understandably anxious about a new rogue Huntsman, especially one as apparently skilled as this man, it was nothing new in the end. What he was most anxious of was the possibility of a new plague, which would cause emotions in Vale to plummet if it were to be revealed. And no one, especially not him, wanted that.

It was after some half an hour when a message on his scroll caught his attention.

[CVFY] ALISTAIR, FOX: Voice Message

He tapped the link.

"Pardon me, sir, but the man told me something I thought you would want to hear." Mister Alistair's voice told him, "He said he wasn't a Huntsman, but a 'hunter.' He also said that Huntsmen aren't the only ones around hunting Grimm. Sorry for taking your time."

As Mister Alistair's voice fizzled out, Ozpin had only one thought running through his mind.

Well, that is worrying.

He left northbound from Lower Cairn, following the mountain range.

Not long after, he somewhat confirmed his hypothesis that the beasts on this Dream - the Grimm, were of an evolutionary stock. Up in the snowy heights of the mountain range, beasts like boarbatusks and beowolves were much rarer, instead replaced with the likes of ursai.

That, and a new type of beast he had never encountered before. Small, but many in numbers, with no forelimbs but two powerful legs, and a mighty jaw. They lived underground, and he fought many whenever he came across a cave to rest for the night.

Well, not that they were any issue to deal with. Not at all, for these armless beasts were a pleasure to hunt, with how inordinately aggressive they were - and mostly armourless as well. It brought him back to his time in Yharnam, the city's dimly lit streets filled with raving beasts a quaint comparison to the caves the armless Grimm resided in.

So was his surprise when he came across an entire subterranean city when he decided to hunt them down thoroughly one night. The Lost Hunter had stalked the cave networks the armless beasts called home, slaughtering any and all unfortunate to enter his path. So far, he went, that it appeared he stumbled upon a lost civilisation, emerging from a hole in the wall to overlook a vast buried city.

Any ordinary person might've had an issue with seeing in the lightless land of the underground, but hunters were not of that stock. If there was any boom with having beast blood in his veins, it was that he gained the vision of one as well.

And by the Great Ones, was it a sight to behold. He had seen subterranean cities before, the Pthumerian for one, buried long ago. The Loranites too, when their Queen brought her people underground to escape the Scourge. Alas, both civilisations didn't last, in the end - a fate shared by those who lived here, it seemed.

Rising from the cavernous depths were monstrous monoliths of stone, as if carved from the very rock into perfect cuboids - then hollowed out to make space for living. Hundreds of these buildings filled the chamber, one so large he could scarcely make out the other end through the fog and darkness. And below, twisting through the buildings were roads, somehow not cobbled nor paved, but like melted rock smoothened over the surface.

The technology employed to construct such a wonder was unimaginable, to him. Was this the norm for all of this land's cities, or was this truly a lost civilisation?

He pondered the viability of leaping down to the rooftop of a nearby building, it was not a fatal drop - for him that was, but it would certainly break his legs. The hunter did indeed have Lady Velvet's beast blood, which he had successfully distilled into healing blood - not quite as effective as the Blood Ministration's or Lady Iosefka's, but quite comparable.

Alas, he only had one vial, and it should not go to waste.

As the Lost Hunter thought of ways to descend, voices from below reached his ears, and the hunter crept backwards into the tunnel to avoid detection.

While he could not make out the voices, the distance too great indeed, he was able to make out the source - using a spyglass he had liberated off the Fimbul Winter. Beastmen, they were, dozens if not hundreds of them, crowding around a… locomotive, from the looks of it.

Well, that discarded any possibility of this place being a lost civilisation. Nevertheless, it was a curious sight indeed, and he tried to make out their actions. Most wore masks, bony white, as if resembling those of Grimm, and they were lifting crates onto the locomotive. He could scarcely make it out, be he could see a red symbol on the backs of their outfits - the snarling maw of a beast. Many a thought ran through his mind, but none conclusive.

The hunter leapt from his perch onto the nearby building, landing in a roll. As he rose, he stabbed Lady Velvet's healing blood into his thigh, savouring the feeling of bones snapping into place. The Lost Hunter was no saint, there were many a beastman here, and blood was no longer such a scarce resource.

He soon found a staircase, and began descending - finding quite a number of skeletons, and bones, in the clearly abandoned building. If he were to guess, they ran out of food, then began eating each other, before dying of starvation. A horrid death indeed, he did wonder what happened here.

Nevertheless, on a lower storey, he knelt by a window and kept an ear open, hearing snippets of conversation.

"Get moving-"

"Blow a hole-"

"Grimm… Vale!"

Peeking out the window, he realised many were stationed as guards, wielding strange, rectangular firearms. There were even several… well, the hunter did not know what to make of it - metal humanoids, bulky in stature and towering over ordinary folk. Golems, perhaps… what was the name for it? That's right, automatons.

"Hey, you sure you heard something? There's nothin' up here!"

"Quiet down, man. I'm a cat faunus, trust me on this."

The hunter hastily crept into the shadows of the room as he heard muffled footsteps ascending the stairway - it appeared he had caught unwanted attention. Or mayhaps, he mused, this was a blessing in disguise - two separated, ignorant beasts, the perfect quarry. All he had to do was be quiet about it.

Two men arrived on his floor with firearms drawn, warily looking around. He didn't stay in one place, just as he had the vision of a beast, so did they - one feline, and another a bull, from the looks of it. With the unnatural dexterity of a man who's entire life was defined by hunting, he crept around the room, always keeping to the two beastmen's blindspots.

Until he managed to sneak up right behind the feline beastman, and snapped his neck - ensuring to cover the faunus' mouth at the same time. Alas, in the near silence of the building, the cracking of bone was distinctly audible, leading the bull faunus panicking.

"Hey… Jacobs? Jacobs!?"

The Lost Hunter brought down his saw cleaver on the no longer unsuspecting man's head - and the beastman collapsed, blood and head fluids mixing together on the stone floor.

He pulled out several empty blood vials, best to harvest before the blood thickened.

Author's Note:

Thanks for all the positive reviews, you guys.

Can someone explain what bloodtinge is, like, actually what it is - not game mechanics but lore-wise. I would've assumed that it was some Vileblood art, but the player doesn't need to be a Vileblood to raise the stat, right? If it's familiarity with blood, then the Lost Hunter is good on that - he's quite familiar with beast blood, british blood, desert blood, ocean blood, eldritch blood, and uh, italian blood to name a few. If it's familiarity with your own blood, then he's that as well - all hunters are, I'd imagine it comes with the trade.