Despairs Remnants

by TwinGamers011701

A hunter, content in killing the beasts of the night. A knight, burning forever to protect the people who wished to kill his kind. Both wish nothing more, than to help their worlds... But when something happens and they both appear in a new world. A World destined to fall like theirs. Well what other choice do they have but to help. Bloodborne/Dark Souls/RWBY. My own OC's.

20. Tales and Rouges

Welcome back to Despair Remnants! Sorry for the long wait, as you will soon see this chapter was a bit of a doozy. I also had some things with work. B

But who cares how long it takes, so long as it arrives!

Now to all my fabulous reviewers!

VGBlackWing: Nice to see you again man! As for that, we might have to wait and see, but as for the invader… no really. Invaders in the Soulsborne stories aren't really my favorite. I feel it should simply be the world they are in, without outside forces. But that's just me.

Ozilla: Yes, as much as they seem like it, both hold their issues with me. It's not that I want this fic to become a Blake and Yang Bashing, though I understand I am pretty good at it. But, after the events during the Yang, Blake and Adam fight. (Death of a 2 dimensional figure. Easy fight that shouldn't have been. Ignorance of PTSD and all that it entails(Which, I admit, even I need research on.) Shipping where shipping didn't need to be. ETC, etc to all future endeavors.) I needed to let off some steam. But, I will try to make them… enjoyable, to the best of my abilities.

Also, while I myself bash the characters, remember. It isn't really the characters fault. Not saying blame the writers to… just… reserve judgement and see how we can do better with them.

As for Ruby and Weiss, one holding some problems for me (Ruby) , I like them. And think that despite their similarly sheltered outlooks on the world, they are genuinely wise for their age. As you said, Ruby wants to see the good, but can't understand, Weiss reserves her judgement. Waiting until Ven opens up more.

As for Mors, I mean more on a character study. We know he has emotions, and his general character, but we don't know what shaped him. We know Solaire was important, but not much else. That's what I mean. And, I think I managed to do it in this chapter, which I hope you enjoy.

Tsun: I thought it would be fun to see Ven rather… normal interaction where he isn't just an angsty teenager. And to see how far he really fell. But, I can see how it is rather long winded. As for Crazy Nora, she's fun to write. What else can I say?

But, one thing about Team RWBY, everything else you got pretty much down, but Weiss is just reserving judgement on Ven. And, as far as all of them really care, he was still fully, and I mean fully, planning on killing Blake. Not that I'm defending them, wrote it that way for a reason.

As for Fairy Tail, no wonder you dislike it! With the amount of Shit four people in that guild destroy, it's no wonder your construction soul wants to Deck Natsu in the face. As for the Nakama power, don't really mind it. It can get tiring if you binge it, but if you read one arc with breaks in between you can still feel awesome about it.

Then again, I might just be weird. :P

Oh yes, as for Emerald, I found something rather interesting that could come from it. Read on Tsun, and see for yourself. :D (There's an explanation at the end of the chapter too. Just to explain my own point of view.)

Thank you for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Grimmsoul1: Adella actually isn't an OC. She's a character within the Bloodborne Universe, and is rather attached to our dear Hunter. (Little backstory, you find her snatched up by those sack carrying guys deep within Yahar'Gul, the Unseen Village. An evil place of blood rituals, of the Mensis variety. If you get there before the blood moon, while wearing a church chest piece, you can save her. She even gives you a special blood vial, that heals blood over time. For hers is untainted by an outside source. Pure like a normal person, but to these yhanamites a delicacy unlike any other, only the high Scions of Yharnam have time for. But even a nun has ulterior motives, one which I won't spoil.) Nice catch on why he has a crush on her by the way.

But, I like Arianna more. Something about her is just nice and warm to me.

As for our fellow relationship, it is most certainly a relation of Sun and Moon. I hope you enjoy it even more in this chapter.

Evincio: He would have to actively smell their blood, which, due to aura, is difficult to come by. But, I suppose our Moon Scented Hunter could.

Crazypumpdude: I see what you mean, but I my self personally wouldn't do it. I'm not the biggest fan, (Gameplaywise) of most of the Strength and Blood based weaponry. They feel just a tad to slow for my taste as a player, as for the blood weapons… I don't know. Something always feels just … off about them to me at least.

That being said, what I wouldn't give to see thirty plus Grimm and Huntsman fall to the pure might of the Bloodletter with a single blow!

Big Smoke: I'll admit, I can understand such sympathy. But who knows, maybe this chapter will have just the answer you're looking for.

Vincentburn: I'll think about it, no promises though. I want to surprise you reviewers after all! But I also want to give you what you want…

Writing can be quite difficult sometimes. :)

Young1liv: Ven thinks of Ruby as Eillen would see him after the Hynek fight. A little rough around the edges, possibly to stupid to understand the world. But, they have a small bit of guts and glimmer of potential worth seeing through. As such, he holds a slight amount of respect for the young Rose.

I probably should elaborate this in the story instead of the comment though. That's on me though. Thank you for the review!

Wilted Galaxy: I understand your feelings about RWBY. And, as sad as it is, I feel similarly. It doesn't mean I'm giving up the story, just… I'm not exactly looking to it for ideas. But, I can rant about all the problems I have with it later, right now your review is more important than my own views.

And what a Review. Simple but charming I must say!

I've been receiving compliments for how I handled Ozpin and the character, and I can't help but feel proud. These two OC's were just pieces of paper with poorly written powers, and now they feel as what you say. Human! It's such a good thing to hear, you have no Idea. Ven and his twisted and backwards ideal, forged from dreams and nightmares alike. As for Mor's Optimism, I'd say our Sunlight Warrior taught him a few things in that department.

I have also been hearing many critiques on that front, (Ruby VS Venatores) and I can't help but agree slightly. Not as an excuse or anything, but I'm still fairly new to this, so I'll leave it up to being a beginner. Don't want to make a similar mistake as the Ace Ops fight in RWBY., so i'll pay attention to it.

Mors and Ven's relationship, in my head, is very similar to me and my brothers, or even Asta and Yuno's from Black Clover. Except one is more open, and the other more closed off. Who knows, if they continue, Mors might make Venatores smile at least once a day! A pride and true achievement, that not even the Great Ones can accomplish.

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Chapter 20

Tales and Rouges.

Class…

What else could be said about this strange contraption? Something that forced the soon to be knights to sit around, waiting and waiting for the end.

It reminded me of my own father, as I sat down waiting for a pointless lecture I didn't want. The person he hired was droning on and on and on.

That wasn't a means to say that was without its merit…

Just that they never really mattered in the middle of a fight.

All except two classes. One a coliseum, fit for others to fight each other to the bitter end. Each learning from the other, fighting and fighting.

Was it a place where the strong trampled the weak? Of course, a permanent, sad truth.

But with struggle comes growth, a true and honest result born.

After all, it was how I achieved such greatness.

But there was another class that existed as such. One that bore words instead of actions, letting the wisdom of those called Huntsmen prosper into their acolytes.

The class of one Professor Port. The slayer of Grimm, as he liked to call himself. Whether by boast, knowledge, or the truest of experience.

Nevertheless, none of that really mattered…

For the stories were not as exciting as they should be.

I sat there, waiting for the rest of the students to begin pouring in. Most of them sat in their usual seats from the first day, while others switched around. The many colors abound joining within the classroom, alongside the vast blandness of colors. Some standing in the very back of the room, hidden by the rushing students.

Perhaps they wished to leave such a stifling place.

Even newer students began pouring in, each of them wearing the typical garments of Beacon Academy. Most looked uncomfortable with it, pulling at the strange neck traps around their necks.

Others looked comfortable. Standing stoutly and intensively, as if waiting for something to happen.

Then there was Venatores. A combination of both, as he sat there once more stewing in his head… a thing that entailed him ignoring almost everything else. Including the lessons in front of him.

And I had begun to think today was starting nicely. A nice routine morning, successfully escaping the ambushing of Team RWBY, and an otherwise pleasant conversation.

All of it, because someone ran into him.

True, the young lady was rather rude at first, but she seemed to make up for it…

But that didn't explain why he was like this.

Perhaps someone from his past? An ancient friend?

No, he ignored the girl as he does everyone. Maybe she looked like one?

But would such a reminder affect him as such?

I took a large unneeded breath, my stale lungs filling with the fresh air usually deprived of them. A small sting of pain filled me at them not doing their job for the shortest while.

"Morning."

I turned my head slightly, seeing the approaching Team JNPR. There smiles bright and happy, without the smallest shadow of deceit. Some look even brighter than others.

At least some things never changed.

"Good morning!" My tone brightening, the ones that I gave to Team Rwby a mere shadow of what I had.

No tricks, no changes. Just a simple modesty, between two teams.

Venatores didn't say anything, still trapped in his own thoughts. Not that the rest of Team Jnpr seemed to mind, used to his behaviors as I was. Especially since they had Mister Lie on their team.

But, before any words were managed to be traded a sharp bell seemed to ring out. This one was short and quick, unlike the Bell that rang through the Parish with every successful mission.

A call to do better after every death.

"Students!" The professor called immediately after its ringing ceased, the loud voice calling almost everyone's attention. My attention on Venatores as he continued to gaze emptily ahead. "As well as Visitors from our neighboring Kingdoms! Welcome!"

I turned to many of our neighbors, each of them turning towards the sound. Some of them, like us, are a mix between paying attention and some sidelong conversation.

As well as their strange uniforms. Ones that did not match the uniforms currently worn by those of beacon.

One was a pure black piece. A strange rectangle connecting both sides of such a piece. Ridding it of any form of symmetry they could be laid bare to the world. A pure white band upon their left arms.

Pure black pants for the young sirs, and a checkered printed skirt for the young ladies.

They were a set. Between animated and stoic, a strange combination that bore witness to such discipline.

Some, in a strange weirdness, were all colorful and variant. As cm if they held no uniform itself, but not suited yet for any combat. They spoke quite adamantly, as if they were an uncontrollable storm of energy. Even after the Professor began to talk, they merely quieted to a whisper.

Some wore an all grey and white suit. A piece of clothing so bland and bare that if it weren't for the individual you would be unable to tell them apart. They were sitting entirely straight, almost like they were statues themselves. As if what was going to be said was the most important thing in the world.

It was reminiscent of how Lady Schnee did her studies.

Something that my partner should be doing right now. After all, it was a knight's duty to make sure that others follow suit…

And, I fear what was to come without him. What manner of things would I forget or miss, after being unable to write fast enough.

I was a Knight, not some scholar of Vinheim!

I nudged him gently in his rib, his one eye turning to me in an instant. Hand already reaching for his concealed weapon, the usual habit for even the smallest of noises.

"Now then…"Our professor spoke up, his hand reaching up to brush the glorious mustache upon his face. Those two words were enough to stop the Hunter in his tracks. His focus now is on the study, paper and pencil out, ready to record every monotone word.

Truly, Big Hat Logan would have enjoyed Venatores as a student. Rarely talked unless spoken to, and follows everything to the letter.

What more could he have ever asked for?

"I wish to try something before we begin." Oh yes, class. I turned my attention directly to the Professor, his arm stretched as he continued to speak.

"Who here," The professor began, his voice filled with the usual excitement. "Has heard of the Grimm simply known as the Wyvern?"

Where was it?

It was supposed to be around here.

Frustration began filling me without a second thought. Like a river filling a Great Lake. My pace growing faster and faster because of such emotions.

I reached the end of the hall faster than I thought. The archway opening to a great courtyard, bright and shimmering light clearly visible.

But the light was not what I needed.

The moment I exited, my head swirled and turned looking for the brilliant flame that would restore.

It was there that I saw it, at the end of a great bridge. Multiple Hollows just sitting there, purpose forgotten yet forever loyal to it.

And at the very end, within a large keep in front of a statue, sat a single thing I needed.

The Bonfire.

After such a tiring experience, I needed nothing else.

I just had to get there. My footsteps already carrying me across the great expanse.

"Wait!"

A voice?

No, now was not the time to care. It was secondary to what was ahead.

Even the hollows heard the voice. Their blank, sunken, rotted eyes turning my way, their spears pointed forward as they walked on gnarled and rotting limbs.

Disgusting and vile.

I have to get to the bonfire…

I can't be this… thing anymore!

"Sir Knight!" The voice screamed out, getting quieter and quieter as I kept moving forward. "If you have not yet hollowed, do not cross that bridge!"

It was because I had to avoid Hollowing that I had to cross it.

I lifted my sword with both my hands grasping its hilt as the giant Zweihander slashed into the hollow's skull, cleaving the shield and skull.

All for a simple sound to overpower that crunching metal and distorted crunching of bone. A thick roar that plagued the sky's…

One that was familiar, and brought a living sense of panic and terror.

Even the Hollows in front of me, void of understanding and emotion, I swore looked in abject terror.

I turned around slowly, the destruction from above. It flew over my head so fast I could barely take in any detail.

Only a couple of things were truly sure.

It was a deep Crimson red. Spikes jutted out of its back like a porcupine, ready to stab any stray passerby.

It only had two legs, and large bat-like wings that covered the sky.

Fire danced across its maw, bright like the sun.

And, despite my wish against it, I was going to die.

Then, there was pain. A searing, unbearable, indescribable pain that could only come from these legendary creatures. I couldn't think, I couldn't imagine. All I felt was the thick armor searing into my flesh, branding me with each plate that entered my skin. I could feel the sword practically fusing with my hand.

Then it stopped just as suddenly, the cold air and wind rushing past me. The pain growing with each breeze met the exposed skin.

Everything was blurry… but I didn't need to see.

Nothing remained. It was a miracle that I could still think that I had not already been sent back.

Another roar, close yet distant.

A distant death beginning to approach.

I could see it's silhouette closing in…

I was afraid again...

Ah… was that lightning?

A roar of pain?

…

None of that mattered. I could feel it fading everything…

And soon, I will be back…

And I will kill that damned thing.

Before I even understood, my hand was raised into the air. The Professor glanced at me, nodding in acknowledgement of all those who knew of these ancient creatures.

I turned my expectation and curiosity at those who would undoubtedly know the cousins of the Ancient Dragons.

Only to see the barest of hands raised. Many of whom looked around the classroom with a similar amount of surprise.

Even Venatores, despite his wealth of knowledge, looked to be stumped. Writing down in his notes, about such a simple name. A heavy and thick question mark right next to its name.

I looked to the many others who've heard this story as well.

The sisters of Team Rwby, those who I had not truly met yet, and even Sir Jaune.

How very strange… How have these young men and women never heard of the Immortal, Kingdom destroying Dragons? Did they not have their own set of Dragon Archers? Ones specifically trained to repel even the lesser Drakes that could no doubt plague cities.

Just because the vast majority of these creatures were most verily destroyed by the Lord of Sunlight, did not mean that they should be caught unaware of such creatures. They should, at the very least, hold specific weapons for dragon slaying.

"The monstrous Leviathan?"

A Leviathan? What does something of absurd size have to do with anything. And why would one merely skip over the Wyverns?

Multiple hands began to raise, each of them still and without any form of comment. Staring forward, as if waiting to be addressed. Miss Nikos and Lady Schnee one of the few to raise their hands.

Even my partner raised his hand, his other beginning to write something down with absolute precision on the other page. Already filling with his own inquiries.

"Perhaps the famed Orochi?" My attention quickly returned to the students, more hands rising with dignity and precision.

Orochi… strange name. For what purpose could that creature have worth mentioning? It did not sound intimidating in the slightest…

But the slight pressure from Miss Nikos, gave me enough knowledge of the severity of the name. Right as she kept her hand raised.

"Maybe even the elusive Rakshasa of the Red Wastes?" I turned my head once more, the rowdy bunch of students living their hands up, as if happy they could finally participate.

A small sense of unease began to fill into me at the name. A title… that has never bode well. How many beings did I face with titles?

How many times did I die from them? The Executioner, The Abysswalker, The First of the Dead, The Dragonslayer?

"I see." The Professor stated, his smile filled with a hidden knowing. Looking around at the many students that have raised their hand.

"You there…"Professor Port suddenly spoke up, pointing at one of the many students in the hall. The young knight, instantly standing at attention. "What academy did you join?"

"Atlas, Sir." The boy spoke, a soldier from the kingdom of the north.

So they trained them like knights? A small bit of inward praise rising in my chest. Loyalty, chivalry and the like.

"Of course." The Professor responded, a small chuckle bellowing from behind his moustache. "It is only natural for a young man from Solitas to join the Kingdom in the Sky."

…

The Kingdom where?

There was a Kingdom….held in the safety of the sky? Far above where any could reach?

A tiny smile spread across my lips, a small urge to chuckle from the depths of my gut.

A Kingdom that stands higher than Anor Londo, the City of Gods.

Man truly has taken its place in the world.

"Thank you, Sir." The young man spoke, the sound of a chair shifting as he brought himself back down. All the while Port returned to the board. A question most verily similar to the one I had in my mind in all their heads.

How did the Professor know where he was from?

"A Leviathan." The Professor began with his tone unchanging. The screen that was once blank filled with the drawings of a creature.

It was a hulking humanoid creature. Almost entirely black except for the protective white mask on its face. Three pairs of eyes, each one glowing a deep orange that could pierce the depths of the Abyss. Multiple thick white spines coming out of its back, a thick membrane connecting them. It's hands were almost ape like, long arms thick, a hidden membrane to help it to swim.

The tail was the only thing that made it seem even remotely aquatic. A thick fan like shape, made of the same materials that connected the spines.

In the drawing it was knee deep in the water, overlooking a small settlement deep within the ice. Or perhaps a large settlement that looked small to its ginormous frame. Like calling Smough massive in the face of Giants.

But the most horrifying thing about it...

Fire, on the edge of its maw.

I felt the tiniest bit of fear enter me at the size of this… Leviathan. After all, such a thing existed in this world ready to strike.

But I had fell dragons, demons and even creatures deep within the Abyss. All I needed was the tiniest bit of knowledge.

Thankfully, the professor was ready to give such information.

"A hulking beast that plagued the northern continent." The professor spoke, turning back to the horrified onlookers. His smile was still wide despite the creature he was showing us. "Waiting for its chance to strike, whether it be the tiniest settlement, Mantle, or Atlas itself."

"Despite it's aquatic nature it can walk on land for long periods of time," The sound of pencils on paper began filling the air, a small streak of panic filling me. Right pencils and paper, as I set quickly set off to retrieving them in my bag. "Destroying settlements with a simple breath. Even destroys Ice Caps to get closer to such settlements."

I lifted the paper up, writing down the name Leviathan. Perhaps it was misspelled, but that could be fixed later on. Aquatic, but can walk on la-

"One of its more famous tales, is of course, The Sailor Marduk." I quickly leaped off the line I was fighting, already beginning my second line of notes. The Sailor Marduk, famous. "Who helped establish and lead the Kingdom of Mantle. He avoided its breath, and rammed into its chest with his mighty, specially designed, warship. Incidentally, it was the region that lets it shoot out such power. After such an action, it was merely a game of cat and mouse, and lots of dust fire."

Strong, but slow. Weakness, Chest/Airway. Difficult to fight, assistance most defini-.

"It was native to the northern waters, and in rare cases, the snowy region where Argus now lies." Professor Port, continued the large boastful smile still on his face. A small annoyance filling me at the pace he was going. Of course, the Professor barely had any understanding of my own difficulties, absorbed into his very lesson. "As such, rarely anyone outside of the continent has heard of them. Last known sighting, over two hundred years."

Only in the north, and Argus. Rarely heard. Two hundred years ago.

At least I managed to complete this one.

"The Wyvern,"

I looked up, ready to see the face of death that had followed me many times before…

Only to see multiple, each one more different than the last. One looked more like a bat, the other more of a dragon than a Wyvern should. Smaller variants that might as well have been pets and the like. And ones without wings, that crawled like dragon peasants.

At least there was one that looked remotely similar.

Thick and skin like wings, two legs, a large head fit to hold the majestic fire it spewed. And a sharp and spiny tail that was almost the length of its entire body.

Even just looking at the tail, made me wonder what treasure it would grant. A Grimm might've been a Grimm, fading soon after death. But it was still a Dragon.

The least it could do, was grant man a weapon that could help kill its brothers. A prize that all Dragonslayers sought.

"An ancient beast that no one has seen since the Kingdom of Vale was first established." Ah, no wonder they've been lax. They probably thought the Dragons were gone. Even still, Archers should still be lining the city, prepared for any sudden onslaught.

Gwyn may have been an effective enemy of the dragons…

But these primordial creatures could never truly be wiped from the world. Not as long as one lived.

It would rather burn the world, than be a lesser. Both to man and gods.

For it was their pride to be strong…

As well, as their downfall to their lesser.

"There are many legends of these creatures." Professor Port continued, taking a step forward for all the class to hear, pencils once again on paper. One that I did not have to repeat, for I knew enough about dragons. "Many of them are failures, some successful! However, most of them also turn up false, or is an exaggeration of a true Wyvern using one of its lesser brothers."

Liars and cheats… though, one could not blame them. To be on the same level as Orenstein and Gough, would be nothing short of miraculous.

"These legends," The professor continued, his hand outstretched behind him. "However grand, tell us barely anything. All that can be said for each of them was they held what they believed to be 'Mankind's Greatest Weapon'. A boast common for the times, where technology was not yet formed."

The answer to the weapon was immediately on the edge of my lips. At this point practically an instinct, for what could break the scales asunder.

But, I had to stop myself. As much as the weakness of dragons was important, respect came first and foremost. Perhaps when the class was over…

Mankind's Greatest Weapon…

I wrote that little bit down, perhaps having to inquire about such information. Maybe I could even ask Venatores for some help on the matter.

I turned to him, his eye glued to the multiple pictures and Professor. Possibly the most engrossed I had ever managed to see him in this class.

"Believed sightings include," The picture changed almost immediately, bringing up the wing-like continent we reside on. Small circles dotting it, possibly as a reference to the locations. Three of them surround the Kingdom of Vale while others are closer to Vacuo. "Only these small parts of the continent Sanus, where its legends originated. The last known sighting was over six hundred or more years."

Only on Sanus?

That was one spiteful Wyvern, if it remained in this one location all this time. Rather like the one on the bridge to the Bell of Awakening, the filthy fire spewer hating the Undead that tried to pass it.

Of course, that was merely from perception.

All that mattered, was that he was tethered to the bridge. Just as this Wyvern, to this kingdom.

Although, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to remember the locations. Did the Professor wish me to etch a map of Sanus to remind myself.

I peered over to Venatores, looking at what he managed to do…

And feeling the full weight of envy.

How does one write paragraphs of information in such a short amount of time. I peered a tiny bit closer, hoping to see what he had written.

Only for him to turn the page just as suddenly, in syncronized movement with our shared Profesor.

"Orochi,"

I turned my attention back to the screen, the picture changing right as I turned.

Only to see, what amounted, to a Hydra. But this time, it was not a drawing or anything of the sort…

It was a picture, a picture of someone fighting it. An old picture that was purely black and white.

Compared to the person, it wasn't very large. The heads about the size of an average person. A thick helm of bone protecting the weakest part of it, the top of his head. It looked like most of the Grimm Skulls, smooth and perfect, like a polished shield. It came up from the back, making two small horns that made it look more like a dragon.

It mouth was wide open, enough to swallow three whole men or a large car. Four fangs, protruded from them. Two of them small like daggers while the others were as large as long swords. A small sparkle danced in the frame of the picture, just below the smal fang.

The strangest part, was the fully white body, that matched the skull…

And the multiple necks, of the eight near identical heads. Four of which was the same white color, while the other were the usual black. Patterns of a different color, possibly red, tracing along the tick necks. Each of them joining into a single body.

Oddly enough, the creature also had multiple tails.

"A virtually extinct species of Grimm, thanks in part to our fear of it and its tale."

Extinct species? How could demons like that be extinct? Especially as they almost always seem to return.

"These Grimm," Professor Port, his voice finally filled with the tiniest piece of dread. A simple trick that told the multitude of students of the severity of his speech. "If their stories hold true, we're extremely dangerous!"

"It was said that their venom alone could destroy a Professional Huntsman in seconds, despite their aura. That their armor could resist Dust Cannonfire without a to their many heads, they can strike two full teams, killing them almost instantly due to the poison."

Resist Canonfire(?), strong venom, affects profes… Professi… Pro Huntsman.

"Only Susano Aizen," The picture changed once again. This time into a man with a simple garb on, a strange hat made with some form of fibers. His sword, one that was plain and with barely any modifications, reminiscent of the one that Shiva of the East would wield. Large, curved, sharp and refined. "One of the great Heroes of Anima, was ever truly recorded to slay such creatures. Each time using the cover of great storms, and the beverage of Saki, which he found nullified the creature's poison. Slashing each nape of its many heads, before the creature could react. A total of eight of these Grimm were slain by him… all of which was within the same year."

Stealth, best option. Saki(?), cures poison. Weakness, nape where all converges.

All within the same year…

He truly was a hero. A single one could probably kill even the most esteemed of these huntsmen.

Eight heads, eight possible attacks…

If it was anything like a true Hydra, it is a miracle that he was even recorded to be alive.

"It was there…" The professor spoke, lifting me up from my notes. The picture changed once again. This time, it was a smaller snake with two heads intertwined to form a body. "That we truly learned how the Grimm could evolve."

Evolution…

This was what Orochi was once? Intriguing...

"An Orochi is also known as an Ancient Class Taijitu." He spoke, a new picture showing up once more. This one with a Taijitu and all of its evolutions. Two of the pictures were, however, mere drawings and speculations. Perhaps it was born from lack of knowledge between the forms.

Each picture had simple but effective labels. Lesser, King, Naga, Hydra, (appropriately named, as it is what that was.), and finally Orochi.

I began writing such info down, as the Professor continued. Voice still filled with a grim tone.

"As such, we consider the Taijitu an extreme threat. A single Taijitu bounty in Mistral and Vale, the latter due to this knowledge, is equal to a Ursa Major or roughly 10 Beowulf's, despite being considered weaker. A King Taijitu, is worth a Deathstalker or at least two hundred Beowulf's."

Murmurs gathered around the class, some in fear and caution, and others in excitement. Yes, the excitement could almost be considered childish… But, such values would fill anyone with excitement, I can in fact already hear them.

"Ren!" The boisterous hammer wielded whispered, which barely managed to be one, as most of the class could hear it. "Your rich!"

"Thanks to this prejudice." Professor Port spoke louder, the murmurs ceasing as if they never existed in the first place. A smile forming across his face, perhaps happy that people were still willing to listen. "Taijitu rarely rises above a King rank. As such, the Orochi is now a mere legend in its rank. It's last recorded sighting was only one hundred years ago."

"Only thirty years before an event that could have brought all those creatures to Mistrals doorstep."

The atmosphere grew serious once more even I felt and understood it…

The Great War…

If that man wasn't there… one would wonder if Mistral would have been left standing…

I quickly wrote down the name Susano Aizen once more. A feeling deep within what remained in my soul feeling strange…

I had learned to listen to this feeling, very much…

It saved me, more than any armor could.

Then the professor let out a small cough, the smile he usually had on returning for the barest of seconds.

"As for Rakshasa of the Red Wastes."

Another click, as the slide turned once more…

Revealing just a name.

I kept looking at the picture, expecting it to change into a picture or anything else.

My confusion only managed to keep growing as a single second continued to pass.

"Not much is known about this Grimm." The Professor continued to speak, keeping the screen right where it was. The confusion made its way to the rest of the class. "All that is known is the area it calls home, and the name gifted to it. For all we can comprehend, it has never left."

That's all…

That wasn't anything worthwhile.

How could it possibly be known, and yet have nothing substantial to it?

Something that could mean only two things. One, a large, humongous problem that had to be taken under extreme caution.

The other, was more jolly and hopeful.

Which usually entailed the first choice was always bound to happen.

No… perhaps this could be different? A New Age has dawned, perhaps even the mysterious governs and gods could overlook this...

"Yes?"

Hm…

Professor Ports' attention was no longer on his lecture, instead looking at a student in the far corner of the room. All the rest of the students following suit in an attempt to hear.

"Why is it considered a threat?" The voice, one born of a feminine origin, spoke. The confusion itself, rather clear in her voice. A small chuckle managing to escape someone's lips in her question. "I-if it never leaves that area, wouldn't hazard be a better term?"

The last sentence was filled with a small embarrassment. Though, I could not disagree with the young man's chuckle.

A hazard? Despite the apparent territorial nature, it was still one of these creatures of Grimm.

A possible threat, and a very avoidable one, but still a threat.

I turned my attention back to the Professor, who didn't even look fazed by such a question.

"Indeed." The Professor began, looking at all of the class in turn. Masking any form of sneer or jeers with his boisterous voice. "An excellent question!"

Any wayward talking, was immediately silenced. Professor Ports chest puffing out in a swelled pride.

"Just like the many Grimm I've stated previously," He began, shifting attention throughout the class. Observing to make sure that the many students were managing to pay attention. "Their legends have dated back to the beginning of our recorded history, and possibly even further! While the Orochi is an exception to this, it still takes many centuries for Grimm to be nearly that powerful."

"As for the Rakshasa," The Professor turned to the screen, his eyes turning back to his own screen. As if to momentarily look at the large empty space. "It has existed since Vacuo was an idea, maybe even further. It's tale doesn't even entail any form of defeat, just of its existence."

Dread managed to drop its way into my spine, fueled by the information given. A familiarity rising in my chest at the information given.

"As far as we know," Each of his words managed to stoke the small and tiny flame of fear in me, as he began to reach the end. "This may very well be one of our oldest stories…"

"Yet, we know nothing."

A shiver went down my spine at that information… the outcome I did not want coming to fruition. Even the entirety of the classroom began to feel it.

Seems even now, the most important lesson eludes me…

Never to tempt with the gods, whether listening or not.

Strange how they can usually hear our temptation, instead of our prayers.

After all…

If only a name is present within a monster, and nothing else, it could mean only one thing. The one thing many dread…

All that have gone to fight such a demon… only one was filled with enough luck to tell the story.

Enough luck, to be deemed the only survivor.

Even Venatores seemed to understand it, his eyes darkening to their usual black pits.

I put the name in the back of my head, perhaps saving it for a latter time. One of the many smaller, more unnoticeable perks of this curse.

Perhaps one that will help this legend be bested, in due time.

"As for never leaving the Red Wastes,"I turned my attention back to the Professor, as he continued on with his lecture. "We can't assume it would be forever."

"For that, we must be cautious."

Of course. There can be no other way to do this. If such a primordial creature exists, nothing but armies could slay it.

At least, for the average man.

"The last sighting of this Grimm is unknown." He continued, looking at the entire class once more. The picture changed to the desert. A plain and empty one, without any form of landmark. "The only thing ever recently noted about it was the report of a monster in the Red Wastes by an unknown source. That was two years ago."

The picture then changed, presenting all of the other Grimm before them.

"These creatures have been considered Kingdom destroyers since they have been found, quickly weaving into our cultures." His voice was filled with a strange authority now, a thing that happens when one was to present a question. "They have become legends, but they still remain in secrecy amongst the world. Perhaps learning the strength of our four Kingdoms."

"These creatures," He moved his hand, presenting the pictures to heighten his own words. "Rarely seen, or only appearing for a few years, since the birth of the Four Kingdoms. Yet their weaknesses and effects on our world remain today."

Then, turning to the class, his arms outstretched. A single word, layered with the weight of all previous knowledge.

"Why?"

Before I myself could process, multiple hands were already raised. The Professor pointed at one of them in turn.

Why? Let me see…

"Fear." A young man spoke out, his very tone unsure.

No. Fear is a powerful motivator, but it would not come with the exploits of man.

"Close." The Professor spoke out, his face still in a wide smile. Turning to the next person he saw. "But not what I was looking for."

Yes… it had to be something that could be spread. Something easy to remember.

"The safety of the people." A male voice spoke, one whose speech was clear and unwavering.

"A pride and true factor." The Professor spoke again, the smile seeming to grow. "But, not the answer."

"Heroes?"

Like Artorias the Abysswalker…

Ah… such a simple answer. My hand rising into the air, the Professor turning his attention to me for the briefest second.

"Again," He spoke to the student, turning his attention to me, pointing me out for the rest of the class. All eyes on me, as Professor Port finished. "Close."

Everyone looked at me with an expression of interest. Venatores waiting just at the side, hand ready to be raised.

He does this in every class… waiting until the last possible moment, until he himself was left to answer. One would almost consider it lazy, if were not for the boundless evidence he crafted against such.

But, nevertheless, the single answer came out and reverberated through the halls.

"Stories."

The response was almost immediate, which brought a small satisfied smile to my face.

"Stupendous answer, Mister Ignis!" Professor Port responded, a loud explosion of his voice forcing the students to jump in their seat. Even letting out a small, but boisterous, chuckle that could warm the very soul.

Despite it being unbecoming for a knight, I could feel my chest swell ever so slightly. Looking around at the many students, who still deemed to pay attention to the teacher.

"Stories are the earliest and most revenant only way the weaknesses of Grimm have been shared!" Professor Port continued, his voice so filled with charm and presence that I was leaning forward in my seat. "Since their bodies dissolve the moment after death, lost to study, the achievements of others have become our lessons. Their discoveries, our preparation."

"Their hope, our duty!"

Some of the students even began to applaud the such a speech. Something that made all the students in the area, look around in some mix of embarrassment.

Of course, there were still some who continued without shame. Even while he held up his hands waiting for them to stop, basking in the glory.

The Abysswalker was famous, stories telling of his many exploits and facing the Abyss…

All of which were mere stories. After all, the real hero of Occacile, Slayer of the Father of the Abyss, was no one of notoriety. A sardonic smile managed it's way on my face at such truths. A simple undead, easily forgotten to the world.

But the Wolf Knight? The noble knight who ventured to save man, his loyal wolf by his side? The one who stood among the Lords Blade, The Dragonslayer, and The Hawkeye themselves. Who stood out as a pinnacle of honor, he who all men and women alike wished to become?

Yes…

Stories were always more important than the savior. Because they can remain remembered, even after the hero's death.

For they are those all aspire.

"Settle down." Professor Port spoke, his chest still swelled ever so slightly. The large encore settling into silence.

"Now then," He began once more within the crippling silence, his hands clapping together. "Since we have just finished our testing, and have our esteemed guests for the Vytal Festival having only just arrived.I propose that just for the day, we have a little bit of fun."

Fun? My mind immediately perked up, looking at him with even more intensity. Looking around the small classroom, waiting to see a cage of some kind.

My hand was practically already in the air. Turning to my partner, hoping to see an equal look of excitement.

Only for it to fall ever so slightly, a look of indifference drawn on his face.

But, that did not mean he was fully unintrested. His face was always just the surface of how he was feeling.

I had to learn in these few months after all, and quickly. It was not truly complete, after all he existed as an enigma of the common man.

But, he was human. Just like in this very moment, he was merely bland… but, if one looked at his hand.

My smile returned, as the hand was twitching ever so slightly. Taunt, ready for anything that will come.

Yes… it will be a challenge to see who will fight whatever Grimm that came.

The best warrior at the very top!

"I want you." He began, an intrigue filling the air. My hand was already beginning to rise ever so slightly. Waiting for his next bre-"

"To tell me of your own exploits!"

I froze. It was like I was petrified by the Basilisk, with the exception of the curse being planted. I was looking at him, my head turning ever so slightly.

I could practically feel the excitement in the room descend to confusion. Even Venatores usual bland face met Port's responses with apt confusion. Though, it only looked like slight befuddlement upon his guarded self.

Our own stories...

"Now," He continued, his voice still filled with a bravado unmatched. Twas as if he could not feel the change in mood. "Don't be modest!"

Or, a mere misinterpretation.

"Every story is filled with something no one knows." The Professor started, continuing to look at all of us in turn. "Why, look at how much you learned from what others consider common knowledge?"

It was true. I looked down at my notes, seeing the many completed and uncompleted notes. Each scrawled out in faint approximation of the English language.

So much knowledge of the world and it's monsters. All within four stories.

"Your method of fighting the simplest Grimm," He continued, his hand outstretched to all of us. "No matter the simplicity, could change how your fellow huntsman thinks."

A spot of whispers began to fill the room, my ears peeking to hear such inquiries. The similarly excited, the confused, the doubtful and the apprehensive.

I myself could not agree with the trifles these students expended. After all, with my abundance of stories ready to be learned, I was no doubt ready.

No doubt, even Professor Port could hear such whispers.

Yet, the smile had not yet vanished. It was still filled to the brim with such pride, as if he still had something hidden within his mind.

"As for those uninterested by this." Professor Port started, a smile still widely stretched across his face. "Perhaps this could be used as a chance to boast?"

The voices dulled to a whisper, as each head of every student turned back around. Each of them, like myself, was fully interested in what was being spoken.

"After all," Port spoke almost absent-mindedly, drawing even more attention to himself, strangely. "The Tournament is on it's way."

All thought, about my stories, about anything seemed to halt. The very sounds in the auditorium quieted to a standstill. Right as he spoke a final line.

"Do you not wish for your competition to know your name?"

Yes… yes it was.

A tournament… how I missed such chances, studying something I did not wish to become. So many long and grueling hours, while others got to fight. Each of them showing their future generals skills that would undoubtedly become useful.

It was a place to boast. To gain fame and attention across the small settlements and, in rare cases, Anor Londo itself.

Steel against steel. Blade vs spear, spear vs axe, all manner of weapons converging in one spot.

I could not help but feel my blood boil. A smile filled with both a warmth and an unrefined edge.

Yes… I will no doubt win. Especially with the dubious Hunter by my side.

It one could not get cocky. 'Twas no way of knowing the sheer depths of skill within each of these students.

I turned my attention to the left, seeing the red haired girl. A girl also staring into the depths of her teacher.

Miss Nikos was skilled herself. There was almost no question about it. Given her title, she was no doubt the strongest student her age.

At least known.

Who knew what other warriors exsisted within this very room.

Yes…

The time to win was now.

For battles were won with intimidation. With fame and glory, above all others.

"Very well…" Proffesor Port spoke, looking at the many students who had finally grown interested. "Think about what tale you wish to tell?!"

With that, the whispers began. Each one beginning to fill the hall, trying to drown the other out. Some using it to speak their minds, or just as an excuse to speak to the other.

"When did Port actually get good at storytelling?" Sir Jaune asked, a slight look of both awe and confusion on his face as he looked at the portly professor.

My response was unneeded, as I continued to search my mind.

"Since he got a bigger audience." Venatores spoke up, a slow scan of the surrounding students, all of them talking amidst each other.

Ah, yes, Venatores might have one such story.

"Venatores!" I whisper yelled, as he turned to me with his usual calm. Almost as if he expected my response. "We must express a story that will strike fear into the hearts of all."

"Given your grimmness," The barest flinch of his hand, which either expressed his small annoyance at such comment… either that or a great urge to shoot me then and there. Most definitely the latter. "You must have a story that will scare them into fearing us both!"

Strangely, he didn't seem as excited. Instead turning back to looking at all of the other students. "I'd rather the student body remain sane."

Again with such cyriptic responses. What story could exist that would spur the madness deep within one's soul.

Although, considering his usual attitude, he might be telling the truth. He was one who rarely lied, in any form of sense.

"What about you, Pyrrha?" Another voice spoke, as I turned my attention over. Sir Jaune speaking to his partner. My mind begining to think of the many other possibilities. "Anything?"

Perhaps the Ceaseless Discharge?

A nervous laugh echoed out in the air. The origin in question, the Untouchable Queen herself. A slightly nervous tone within her voice. "Most of my stories involve people, rather than Grimm."

No. Despite his grand scale, even the description of such a creature would garner sympathy, more than fear. After all, even killing such a demon was more mercy than triumph.

"Oh, yeah." Sir Jaune continued, a small laugh as if such a thing only now registered. "Well then, looks like it's up to Nora and Ren."

The Iron Golem?

No. Despite such impressive feats, it is more akin to an animation than one of the creatures of Grimm. At least, known to me.

Besides, I would more be telling the story of the great Tarkus. A legend, as well as one who's strength I desired to emulate.

"Ren!" Miss Valkyrie which might as well have been an explosion going off. Multiple people's attention turning towards the small group."You should talk about the Taijitu!"

Maybe even just the Taurus Demon? A simple but effective story, that will certainly impact someone in the room.

"I'd rather not." Sir Ren spoke, his voice quiet and reminiscent of Venatores'. It was different, in a manner that was merely a quiet calm, instead of the guarded cold.

"Come on!" Miss Valkyrie spoke, keeping her usual cheer, a sheer contrast to her own partner. "I can even provide the sound effects. Bang bang, hiss, maybe even kersmack!"

No… it didn't hold that exciting spark. One that could, from name alone, strike fear and awe.

"I'm pretty sure that's not a word." Sir Ren spoke up, a small laugh on the very edge of his voice.

It had to be big, intimidating for all of my newly formed rivals. It had to strike fear.

"It's when you stabbed it with his own fang!" Miss Valkyrie spoke, her voice still filled with that strange excitement.

Fang… Yes fangs the size of the average ma-

A room existed, with the sound of rushing water. A roar that existed and echoed to the very edge of the Undead Burg. Despite its large emptiness, one could feel the sense of harrowing danger. Pillars the size of three men.

"Are you certain this is the place?" A voice spoke, a small piece of sarcasm and disbelief fresh and pure.

"Of course." Another spoke, one filled with a hopeful calm, despite truly knowing what existed. "Mors has told us as much."

"I do not doubt him," The other voice spoke, the calm still deep within. Though, he was not one I expected to be offended as such. "Merely questioning why a primordial would even think of continuing existing in such a heap."

"Certainly," The man continued, as I gave another sweep. Making sure that no other creature could ruin any chance. "It would have tried to break free, yes?"

I kept my attention as I began to speak, an unnatural calm now over me, as I looked towards the edge of the room. "It gets a meal every time someone tries to get to this fabled Blighttown."

Blighttown… such ugly rumors. A town of forgotten trash leading towards the second Bell of Awakening. One littered with poison and fire, as well as creatures of the Abyss.

The mere thought of such a place, was enough to avoid it.

How many undead have journeyed to get even close?

Enough for an eternity of meals, and even longer. A single truth entered my mind that I had no choice to speak out to…

"It will remain until the fire fades."

The atmosphere changed swiftly, a certain charge entering it. Empowering the many knights within the area.

"Then it is without doubt we must slay it!" A great amount of pride, his voice still strangely calm. The sound of a sword drawing from a sheath, and a shield unlatching from his back. "For the might of t-"

He was interrupted simply, by a voice. One that was still bland, with a sinister edge.

"Yes, yes, might of the Sun." He spoke, two swords drawing from either of his sides. These ones barely heard, as the smooth, curved steel escaped his leathers. "Now, remind me of the plan?"

I nodded my head, feeling for any shift in the earth of the gargantuan beast ahead. Hidden deep within the darkness, waiting.

"You two will draw it's attention." I spoke, lifting the giant hook-like sword. One that I had obtained from the Capra Demon itself, after ripping its head from its shoulders. "I will go for the tail."

A small chuckle sounded out, as small steps began getting closer.

"Quite the greedy one aren't you." The once imprisoned knight spoke, a soft confidence and jab. A thing that caused me to grip my sword in the slightest annoyance. "What if I want the tail?"

I took a deep unneeded breath, taking a small step towards the misted gate that I was looking through. Ready to walk into and past the veiled beast. The sword in my hand letting out a small and meek cry.

"Mors Ignis has brought us together to fight this beast." The second voice spoke, the tone alone making my hand loosen ever so slightly. Enough to the point that the sword would no longer break. "It is only right that the spoils go to him."

Another snort, as I took another step closer, this time delving in the depths of my memory. Reminding myself of every single thing that this creature could possibly do.

"He brought us cause he held his own difficulties against it." He spoke with a slight amusement, uncaring of how it sounded. Speaking his mind fully. It was something that brought a small respect and anger wherever he went.

"Besides," The Knight of Astora continued, his tone unchanging. As if unaffected by that small truth, keeping his usual calm. "I have no need for any other weapon. A warrior of Carrim shouldn't either."

The battle had to happen now… whatever argument could wait.

I dropped the Greatsword to my side, the weight causing the very ground to shake ever so slightly. The two Undead by my side most likely flinching with their swords at the ready.

"Neither of you could lift it anyway." I spoke, remembering the weapon that came out from the otherside, before the creature killed me. A giant axe the size of my entire body, that would require two hands to lift.

One that I craved.

"Should have begun with that." The Carrim Knight spoke, a light laugh as the heavy steps continued forward. Right at my left side. "Now than…"

Two swords crossed each other, making a sharp sound. Large sparks shooting out, as my other companion took steps forward. His sword sparkling with the tales of Gwyn.

"Let us make this prideful sewer dweller bend the knee." One could hear the maniacal smile on his face, ready for the upcoming battle.

Right as I raised my hand.

"I believe we have our first story teller!" Professor Port spoke, responding to the hand I raised.

Everyone's attention turned to me, some in expectancy. Some in some form of pride, or regret at not having raised their own hand faster.

Nevertheless, everyone's attention was on me. Sir Jaune expectant, as if remembering the tales just awhile ago. Miss Valkyrie was staring at me stars in her eyes. Sir Ren and Lady Nikos

Even Venatores seemed to lean in, his interest already clear.

Any form of nerves that I held were simultaneously built and destroyed by that piercing glare. The high expectation of one who held interest in nothing suddenly on my spine.

But as well as the pure and powerful confidence that built in me.

"For the sake of understanding," I began, my voice propelling out to the other students. "I will start a little before the beginning."

Now came the difficult part of the story. The stretching of the truth so that they could all believe it.

As much as it stands, the people of this New Age barely believe in any form of gods. Aside from that, as far as I could understand, the Darksign is not part of this world.

Truly, this was going to be a harrowing story to tell…

But, I wished to win… and, maybe even teach my fellow students something. After all, Professor Port barely mentioned the weakness of dragons, the great bolts of Gwyn.

Yes…

If it had to begin… it had to begin like this.

"My teacher can be considered… a strict man." I spoke, memories of my youth flowing into me. Never finish training a minute early, and go beyond thirty minutes until all were gasping for breath. "He would take many a student, all to turn them down within a week. His training was far from normal, and his teachings were never taught but marked into our bodies and minds. Experience was his mentor, and he ensured us that it would be ours as well. "

A good man… a small tiny forgotten flame burning in my chest. Whether it be the flames of passion long since forgotten, or something far more sinister that lurked in memory.

I shook my head, returning to my story. The flame still managed to burn in my chest a while longer.

"Lessons came and went," I continued, my eyes closing in a small form of remembrance. The words spill out like the rivers of the Darkroot Basin, quick and with power unmatched. "Along with students, my brothers and sisters within the halls of our peers. Each lesson was more fearsome than the last, and his sympathy was nonexistent to our cause, no matter how desperate or pitiable."

There were notes of pity in the air, that all in the room could practically feel. Of course, there were notes of understanding within the air. I could practically feel them flow out of both Venatores and Sir Jaune. One from my own difficult lessons, and the other from his very own experiences.

Nevertheless, those pitiable notes were meaningless and unneeded. As they had yet to understand how important those grueling and hard lessons would be in battle. So much important information garnered in that single harsh lesson…

But, I suppose my understanding of these lessons were easier for me to understand. After all, despite the rather simplicity of the words.

Learn or die. Those were the only choices an Undead had within this world.

"But…" I started, the attention returning on to me within a simple second. The tiny spark of interest caught on from the beginning. A small smile playing at my lips. "The most grueling lesson came within the first month…"

"The first mission."

People seemed to lean in even further, their curiosity catching on the smallest kindling, forming a small flame. Pausing for that small being to burn brighter and brighter.

"I've heard legends among my peers," Legends certainly, of a creature that lived that deep within the ground. Feeding and feeding for who knew how long. "That this mission was one that would doom all to quit being a huntsman. That we would soon beg to put up the sword."

A small laugh echoed out, followed by the smallest tsk of air, shushing the no doubt prideful student. My smile grew even further, as I took a small breath ready to continue.

"He would send us with Pro Huntsmen," The two words caught all students' attention. Perhaps realizing that the mission was not for play, but living breathing experience thrusted upon us. I could even feel Professor Port's eyes widen in interest, hand moving to his chin. "Those who had proved themselves capable of facing and escaping what we were to come to face. A Grimm of great renown. Nothing like those we have learned just now…"

"But what I encountered was close." My voice echoed out in a small sense of dread, the room growing the tiniest bit colder. "Too close to my liking at the time."

Many of the students began to shiver the tiniest bit, most likely at the mere thought of having to face something so close to a Wyvern. Of course most of the other students instead leaned closer. Those who held no uniform had a bright and excited smile on their face, waiting for me to continue. The uniformed soldiers were stoic, yet some could not help but show the tiniest bit of excitement, a similar reaction to the strangely garbed students of Mistral. Even Team JNPR seemed to lean a tiny bit closer, Sir Jaune practically leaning on my arm.

Venatores kept his usual stoic approach. Remaining at the side, listening intently to the story, undressing it with his mind and hoping to reveal and learn from such information. The single dark eye catching my tiny gaze, in some form of expectancy.

"It is unorthodox, yes." I spoke, no doubt a few of the many students wondering about such methods. Right as I continued along, the memories of my teacher flowed it's way into my story. "But, he was a cold man. He would rather you risk near death, than for you to continue down a path you could not handle."

Professor Port gave a sagely nod that managed to catch my attention slightly. No doubt a man of his standing understanding the importance of such a small action.

"The information my teacher gave me was simple, simpler than any quest that you may all come to face." The possibilities for the information entered my mind. After all, for this small piece of the story mystique was everything that was needed, especially for the added impact…

Yes, that will work.

" 'Unknown Grimm sighted within settlement. Request, Team of Huntsmen.' " I spoke out, a vast majority of the people around me began to raise their brows ever so slightly. Professor Port nodded, as if he understood.

Perfect

"Very accurate." Professor Port spoke up, the crowd of students turning the attention to him. "Sometimes we will not know what creature we will encounter. As such, this knowledge will be no doubt irreplaceable."

Many of the students nodded their heads, understanding the need and importance of such information. Others seemed to wave it off, taking it for granted the lessons from the Professor.

"Indeed." I nodded, continuing onward with my story, alongside excellent advice. The many students returned their attention to me, waiting for the continued story. A small feat that managed to put an even wider smile on my face. "But my teacher didn't slay it. He used it as an example, a twisted view into the world of man and myth that awaited us all in this room."

"I, however, was not to be alone in this," I continued, remembering the many challenges the creature presented me with. I was still rather… naive. As much as I wished to slay it on my lonesome, I needed some manner of help, to defeat the only thing that barred all from the Second Bell. "As it would be foolish to send us one at a time on such a mission. Two up and coming Professionals who my teacher knew in passing, and me as what amounted to a knave."

"They were…" I began, pausing ever so slightly, only for my very own thoughts to begin to catch up. Those two did not have a last name… as they were not of the upper scions of their respected realms, they had no purpose for last names. They were merely from their realm.

Of course, those realms no longer existed within this new age, at least that I could find. So for now, their names would have to change… at least for the story at hand.

"Solaire Astora and Sir Lautrec Carrim." No two names could bring both a great amount of trust, and the deepest sadness. Both of these warriors were gone, freed from undeath… Both, one regrettably, the other purposefully, by my own hand.

A stare pierced into my side, one of darkness and no doubt sudden interest. It startled me out of my thoughts, as I turned to my side.

Venatores stared back. Looking at me with his singular eye, staring into me like the very Abyss itself. Studying me even closer, as if sensing that single memory of weakness. Staring into every piece of my soul, and possibly everything I couldn't see.

Venatores Luna was nothing if not perceptive. A fact that made me swallow the empty air and feel the small chill within the air, a thing as I took as an accomplishment of my bravery. Most others would have started to run, cowards unable to move from their spot scream lost to the terror.

"Two knights, forced to work together." I continued ignoring the still piercing glare. "Each of them seasoned by experience, and marked by it as differently as night and day."

"I will skip the many Grimm we had encountered on the way," I spoke, no doubt the many people wanting to hear about this one single creature. Not the fodder that could no doubt still kill them if they were not careful. "And stick to the environment where we arrived. Something that those two studied extensively before even entering the last known location."

Venatores nodded slightly, no doubt he would hold great respect for the art of tracking. Even Professor Port nodded, listening just as intently to the story as all the other students.

I was certainly doing something right.

"It was only after a short while," I placed a small tension in my voice, my small audience catching it with such ease. "Did we see signs of this… beast."

Many more leaned closer, waiting for my description. Even the small students filled with pride seemed to fill in the tiniest bit closer.

"There were claw marks," I spoke up, remembering the many markings within the place that could only be considered an arena "Gargantuan and embedded deep into stone, as if to let man know what it is they faced. Each one reaching up the side of a mountain, stretching farther than the sun across the mid noon sky."

Many more leaned in, their eyes sparkling with a certain mystique. My smile stretched across my face, as I continued with it.

Perhaps I should tell stories more often. The attention is rather flattering, even with a certain flutter in my stomach.

If anything, it made such stories even more exciting to speak of.

"It was then I spotted a cave," I continued, looking around at all the other students. Instead remembering the deep depths filled with Rats and Basilisks. "Carved and broken into the mountain, water dripping and echoing deep within."

"We took our time, navigating deeper and deeper through horrendous twisted tunnels, as if whatever force had created them was as blind as we were."

"It was only when that large cavern opened up even further… did even these Huntsmen seem out of their depth." Those words caused a stir, one where people began to realize the severity. A feeling that I had while entering that sewer. "A large opening, an arena within the center of this cave, architecture built around it as if to ward our search. The two experienced Huntsmen were cautious, they could feel that something was strange..."

"But," I spoke up, remembering in embarrassment what my brash actions were once. "I was a reckless youth. I continued each step, sure and cocky, as I kicked one of many stones within."

"That single rock, might as well have been a bomb." I continued the atmosphere growing tenser at that description. Each student, excited for every detail that was to come. "Even at the time, I needed to stop and look around."

"Gaze I did… upon the claw marks, scoured across the arena. Each one against the wall, boulders and pebbles all across, nothing was safe from this creature's wrath. Rarely were any of them similar, different sizes and lengths that made no sense."

"We thought the creature clawed out the home itself…Through the stone and ore. And worse, as if afraid by what stood within… something, someone had created the walls. Not to keep us out." I paused, allowing my fellow students to revel in such a discovery. The mystique filling their minds with fear and uncertainty.

Even Venatores managed to look enthralled. The deep night eyes filled with a small amount of stars.

Perhaps I could manage a side job, writing stories. Especially if I managed to catch the attention of Venatores Luna.

"But to keep something in..."

I could practically hear someone swallow their saliva. The silence within the room is palpable, waiting on bated breath.

Then I held up a single hand. My next sentence upon the tongue.

"That's when the quakes began."

"Q-quakes." A small and meek voice sounded out, quickly silenced by multiple cries of annoyance.

"Deep under us," I continued, not even answering the question. "And growing bigger and louder, shaking the mountain as our hearts stopped dead in our chest."

"It was only then, did I see something move…"

They leaned in closer… waiting for the description of such a beast that I had been describing. Perhaps it was a beast of many heads. A creature with claws bigger than its body.

Sadly, that was not what was first introduced.

"Where I began to laugh ever so loudly."

The room became quizzical. As if they didn't even hear what I said. Nevertheless I continued with the story.

"It looked like the small head of a gecko. Barely even the size of my own body. No mouth, no fangs, barely even the traditional white mask."

"Even my companions seemed to join in a little." A laugh trailing at the edge of my voice in remembrance. The sheer cocky lines in that moment was almost funny, as it was shameful. Even in so many defeats I had not lost pride."It might as well have been a Beowulf, was what I thought."

Some of the students began to laugh awkwardly at such a strange story.

The students that were seeking an excitement groaned on some level.

All the excitement seemed to stop in that single moment. Few still managed to remain even in some way patient.

Venatores rolled his single eye, continuing to stare at me. Waiting for the true monstrosity to reveal itself.

Even Professor Port stood there, stoically waiting for my story.

Sir Jaune still managed to wait, ever so patiently. Expecting what the other two had come to see.

"Then it kept climbing." I stated as a simple fact, the smile still on my face. Something that managed to make such a statement unnerving.

"And climbing."

"And climbing."

Everyone that did not listen, or laughed, or scoffed all fell silent. The emphasis on the size of the creature finally coming into their minds.

"Until all of its body had revealed itself." I continued to speak, raising my hands for any added emphasis. "That the head, which equated to a mere one sixteenth of its body. As all three of us backed up to the exit."

Exclamations filled the room, the many people whispering silently to the other. Eyes still focused clearly on the entirety of my frame.

"The immediate thought was to run." I spoke, looking at them all in turn. "Something we tried with barely any form of hesitation."

"Only for its two story tail to block the way. Encircling us with its body like a famed serpent."

Everyone was silent, as I remembered the large and frightening height of the abysmal creature.

"It was the size of a three story building,"I continued past the silence with a small smile across my lips. "Each tiny twitch of its body looked like a full movement in my own eyes. It had a thin lower body, with a large boulder like gut. Moving around slowly as if it had just awoken, sluggish and heavy. It's tail reached from across the cavern, blocking everything that could be used as an escape. Patches of white and black merging to make a strange mesh of scales."

"But… something was very strange." I spoke, placing a single hand upon my chin. "Three things in particular."

"It's torso… it was humongous. It made up two thirds of its body and was twice as wide. And something unseen scratched along the bottom. Filling the cave with a deep scraping sound of something dragging on the stone."

"It had six limbs." I spoke, even now with the smallest confusion. After all, it didn't need the arms to stuff it's face anymore. As I absentmindedly lifted my hand, as if absentmindedly observing it as my own. "A strange mogrification that I would never suspect in any Grimm, or creature for that matter, outside an insect."

"Each of its six limbs, two hands and four feet, were thin and malnourished. As if barely able to handle the sheer weight of the body."

"But the strangest thing…"

"Was the full, small, and tiny claws it had on each hand." I spoke, the air changing. As if all did not understand what was going on. "Each one barely even the size of a human."

"T-that doesn't sound so weird." A random student spoke up, many of the others whispering in slight agreement.

Immediately assaulted by the inquiries of my very own partner.

"It doesn't match." He spoke in his usual curtness, in a strangely loud voice. It was practically the loudest he had ever been, short of screaming in anger. "They should be long, multiple, and of varying sizes."

"W-why." The same student quickly spoke up, a sense of insult in their voice.

The taciturn Hunter quickly turned his head, glaring directly at that student. Even I turned my attention, curious towards the coming reaction.

Strangely enough, the average young man was not white in the face. He flinched back ever so slightly, but he still held some form of color.

"How else do you describe the marks on the rocks." He spoke up, turning back towards me with his arms crossed. The tone of voice was still as reclusive as he wished to be.

"T-there was another one!?" Another spoke up, taking the story a little too seriously.

A smile spread on my lips, as I looked towards that single female student. Pure black clothing, signifying her school.

And I simply told her the truth.

"Worse."

The girl's face seemed to grow whiter at the very thought of something worse. And as I watched my words affect each and every student, as their minds attempted to translate my speech into feelings and images...

I had to admit, it was quite fun!

"If I may," I continued, placing a strange mystique into my own voice. Letting imaginations run wild once more. "I wish for the class to be still and close thine eyes, and simply imagine. The Grimm that we have all come to face, they were as dumb as bricks, nothing more than animals, driven by a mysterious force to choke the life out of us and our lands. To do this, as they continue their non existence, they grow, they adapt, and worse, they learn. They take what makes us ourselves, and twist it for their own use, to use it against us to destroy us efficiently."

"This creature that stood before us… it had learned. It did not learn how we as a people interact, it did not learn the weapons we use and the defenses necessary to avoid it. I doubt the creature even knew to understand and work with its siblings. But as I studied the creature, my mind misted and slowed by the fear I felt…"

"Something growled, as the creature groaned not in fear…" I remembered those small and beady little eyes staring directly into me. The floor that was once just water beginning to fill with the saliva of this beast. "But in what I can only describe as ecstasy."

"And as the creature slowly stood, I recognized the look in it's eyes. A look a creature like this should never have as it stared at us…

"Right as he lifted his upper body..."

"The Grimm," I spoke, noticing the expressions on all of the students. As the words finally seemed to catch them. All looking at me with mixtures of shock and awe. Rare few were able to keep whatever composure they had left. "This ancient creature of despair, had learned from us in the worst way possible. It had taken something natural, something we all needed to live, and twisted it into a sin we all revile so deeply. It had learned, and we feared the very idea of what it was that we sought and discovered."

"W-w-what did it learn?" A student spoke up, like a small child at their parents bedside. His voice filled with as much curiosity as there was fear.

"It had learned… what it meant to live, and corrupted it." Expressions of confusion and fear filled them all. Just as I did when the big ugly bastard of a creature. It's true corruption prominent for all to see and feel."It learned to hunt down its opponents, its prey so well that people of ancient times sealed it away in fear and disgust! It learned to wallow in despair as it's one joy in it's unlife was savagely ripped away!"

Yes… such was the cruelty of this forgotten beast.

"And as the creature finally stood upon its legs, its arms grabbing and its four wings flared out in ecstasy, its joy finally returned to it…."

The students pushed even further in. The adventure seekers with smiles wide, the soldiers with eyes of steel, the scholars notes at the ready. Even the fearful could not turn away, as if the great beast stood in front of them all.

For indeed, the moment that thing rose from the ground… after centuries upon centuries of remaining in that one place…

"The Gaping Dragon hungered once more."

( Gaping Dragon Theme. )

Most reacted poorly, just from the name alone. Be it reeling back, or grunts of pure disbelief. The same word going through their minds, that brought fear into the hearts of gods and men alike.

Dragon.

If there was anything more ancient than a Dragon, few knew of it. Before darkness and fire, these immortal creatures stood the test of time. Fighting and endless battle to return what was rightfully theirs.

The World itself.

Many could understand such a blight…

Fewer sympathised with it. Be they gods or man. After all, the world was theirs to rule was it not? For the gods had won their rule, such did the dragons have to live under their boot.

A sentiment that I shared, however limited.

But the creature was no dragon… it was something else. A being distorted by the dawn of the Age of Fire, powered by the strength of disparity.

Light and Dark.

Life and Death.

But for a being who knew nothing of fatigue… nothing of fear…

Or starvation.

It was no wonder that Seath the Scaleless himself was interested in such a being. His Channeler reader hung the great dragon himself.

Right before I ended him myself.

"The torso was no torso." I continued outside of my head, remembering the maw of the dragonic ahberition. "It was split in twain, all the way down to what should be its stomach."

"That was the first piece of true horror I had ever seen." I spoke a piece of truth in that statement. The Taurus, Asylum, and Carpa demons. The Gargoyles of the Bell tower. All were terrifying within their own rights, especially the first time around.

But did they represent the ancient fear of all being? The ageless Dragons who, if it weren't for their fierce pride, would outlive all.

I shook my head, returning to the present. After all, the audience was currently waiting for a story to finish.

"For what lay underneath was no rib cage. At least not anymore." I spoke, remembering in full detail the unearthly evolution that lay below.

Even now, I wondered where the lungs were on such a creature. Or perhaps the need to feed was far more important than any other function, such as breathing?

A small shiver rolled down my spine at that thought.

Truly Dragons were a terrifying race.

"They were teeth, big, long and inconsistent." I spoke, looking at all the students who managed to react in confusion. Remembering the long teeth that could spear any being, even the largest of giants. Especially when they stabbed into me as a means to grind me into a paste. "As if the thing broke its sternum thousands of times over to create this new mouth. One that could swallow a small home with a single bite. Each of its four rows of disgusting sharp teeth ready to demolish anything in its way."

The grotesque image was met with a resounding choir of disgust. Even the Professor appeared to be squeamish, his face twisting for only the slightest second. Sir Jaune whitening to that of an Anor Londo Ghost, a vast majority of his team following suit.

Only two others reacted in a… unexpected manner.

Miss Valkyrie, one who seemed to look even more excited at the mere aspect of such a creature exist. Not to say that she wasn't scared, her skin a few shades fairer than it usually was.

But, the young lady was one for optimism.

Venatores, merely nodded his head. No other outward interaction, other than an increased look of interest.

As if such beasts were merely a common novelty! It was insulting, that a Dragon could be a mere interest to the one before me.

Of course, that was a small piece of unneeded pride.

As if reading the expression on my face, Venatores raised an eyebrow. Opening a single palm and holding it forward, a tell tale sign to continue.

"This creation leaned backward against it's lower body, relying on it to even keep it off the ground." I filled in, remembering the sight of this beast heaving just to devour me. "The very stone breaking under its feet just from the effort alone."

"Then it roared… " The sheer weight of the memory affected me at that very moment. For what roar could be as strong, or as terrifying as a dragons screech. One that rippled into one's very body, trying to destroy you with a simple sound. Rupturing organs, breaking bones, bursting the very blood in ones veins. It was thankful that the ones who would fight it were on the verge of godliness, or willing to not care for such needless damage, like the Undeads. "A horrible, painful scream that had managed to push me backwards. Even the professional huntsmen were pushed back, their weapons at the ready."

"Which was when the stunned silence stopped," I said with an excited smile and voice on the edge of my lips.

For the battle had truly begun!

It appeared that, despite my lack of words, even the rest could feel that such a battle was about to begin.

"I would love to say that my first reaction was to gallantly fight this monstrosity." I spoke, the smile still wide on my face. The energy within the atmosphere lessened ever so slightly. "That I unsheathed my greatsword, and charged into the battle."

My smile widened even further, remembering the simple joys of the start of a battle.

"Because that is exactly what I did!" I exclaimed out, a small sound of shock filling the students at the loudness within my voice.

"Woo!" Miss Valkyrie screamed out, exclaiming the excitement that was within everyone's mind. Practically pushing Sir Jaune to the side, as if to listen to my story closer.

There was even a loud chortle at the very front, a look of pride and nostalgia making its way to his face. The look of that of a teacher, remembering his past.

"I charged forward," My hand moving to my back, as if wielding my great sword at this moment. The familiar and welcome weight that had kept me alive. "Attempting to move around the big mouth. It's body already beginning to lift,

"Before being brought down like a hammer into the earth." I finished slamming, very lightly, into the desk in front of me adding to the effect.

A method that still managed the smallest of dents within the wood.

"I barely managed to dodge it," I managed, a slightly fake smile upon my face. An interested glare became far more sinister and dark as I continued. "The sharp teeth destroying rocks below, grazing the air so close to my side."

Well… I managed to dodge it the second time. The many teeth stabbing into my back, the thick acidic saliva drowning me as well as burning me.

It was certainly a nightmarish death. One that was made certain I wouldn't repeat.

Until he grabbed me, and swallowed me whole. Yet another death.

It was at that point that I began to grow tired of such deaths. It was one of few reasons that I had Summoned Solaire and that damned Carrim Knight. To rid myself of the feeling of being eaten alive by the great creature.

"But this dragon did not care, as the mouth bore into the stone." I could feel the ground under me quake and shiver as if I was there. Barely able to land as the earth threw me into the air. "As if it were content to eat the rock below it."

"It didn't even notice me, until I swiped at its tail!" As I mimicked a downward cut onto the beasts tail. Forgoing the hot and thick blood that seeped into my very armor. Burning close to a fresh fire, right into my own bones.

"The tail?" Miss Valkyrie interrupted, the smile stil plain on her face despite the complaints. Holding her own arms up, in gleeful amusement. "Why didn't you go for the head!"

Despite such an interruption, many of the students couldn't help but agree.

Why did I not go for the head… in any other situation, especially for dragons, such advice would be sound…

If you were one free of greed and vanity.

Even the Great Dragonslayer Orenstein wasn't free of such temptation. To let a dragons tail go without first extracting the bone from it. Be it sword, axe spear or any other such creation.

And even if you were, would you deny lesser creatures the chance to wield it? A peerless blade that, so long as you have such requirements, allowed a simple knight to fell any such creature.

But, Grimm did not produce weapons. So that was a rather unbelievable reason to aim for such a reason.

Thankfully two reasons were at the forefront of my mind.

"It was blocking the exit." I spoke, the small tiny little sparkle of light entering into her mind. Her smile seeming to grow even wider at the excitement, as she figured it out. "The sooner the tail was gone, the sooner we could run in case of danger. Aside from that, an amateur meddling in the battle of two Professional Huntsman?" I spoke leaving the question in the air.

Many responded simply, nodding their heads. No doubt the simplest of thoughts running through their minds. 'Of course he stayed away from them. Had to let the superior fighters do their job.'

I would be lying if I said such a thought was not accurate. For, at that time, I held skill or power that could rival or compete with such experience before me. All that I had over them was a heavier weapon, one that could end any lesser man with a simple swing.

Which is why my sword was the second most crucial piece to winning the battle against

"But… the armor across its tail was heavy." The stone like scales, harder than any steel imaginable or ever forged. Even the great Giant Blacksmith, The smiths of Astora or Andre himself could not craft something equal. "Even my sword, a mere prototype of what I have today, barely left a dent in the tail."

"Yet, I continued anyway. Destroying any armor that I could, cutting deeper and deeper into the tail… to barely any effect." The reactions as such were almost simultaneous, as they realized the sheer weight.

Of course, some were filled with self assurance. Possibly due to the sheer absurdity of their own creation, or of the sheer artistry of a master Blacksmith. Of course their weapons, heavy or delicate as they may be, could pierce whatever armor was within their way.

They were wrong… But, at the moment, they can manage to be wrong.

"All the while seeing the professionals at the enemies view." The smile returned in full glow onto my face. Reminding myself of that single battle, with such words. The other students seem to smile at my very own, or at the least the reminders of what they will soon be. "Grabbing the attention of this large Grimm, no trace of fear in either of their faces whatsoever."

"Sir Lautrec attacked the head," The smile lessened ever so slightly… Merely at the reminder of the Carimm Knight. He would have been erased from the story if it weren't for his extreme importance in that single battle. The memory of betrayal is still just as fresh as the day it happened.

I could practically feel the fire burn in my hands, the insidious wrath of that day trying to fuel it both.

Thankfully, I gripped them tight, keeping the power of disparity in check. Continuing my story without a beat, even with the small piece of regret growing in my pit.

Yet, the story was nearly done, too late to take it all back.

Now, where was I… right. "While the mouth remained stuck within the earth below. His twin Shotels stabbing into the tiny eyes at the side of his head. A laugh of excitement within the depths of his voice and a wide smile of a maniac."

Was always calm and collected, even while he was within that hidden cell. Only in battle did his true, dark and twisted nature reveal itself. But few seemed to understand such a thing. After all, such description did not warrant reaction, especially as it was used to kill the monsters

"Solaire had his shield up, a yellow Dust crystal in his hand." The holy cloth of the Lord of Sunlights power. Useful catalysts that invoke the stories and scriptures of the gods, releasing them as powerful attacks. In this case, the powers of the Sentinels of Gwyn himself. "A flash of energy released from his hands in a single bolt of lightning."

"The spear embedded into his scales…" Yes, my sword was most useless against such scales.

These spears, however, were the true destruction. One of the many reasons for obtaining the help of such a paladin.

"And the stone-like bones fell apart to dust." It was the first time seeing it in person. It was no wonder dragons feared the true spears of Gwyn, iframe stories of them could crumple the as such. "It was not even that big of a Dust crystal. But the scales gave way, revealing the thick skin underneath."

Many eyebrows raised in interest. Even the Professor seemed to look on in a form of interest. Yet another weakness learned to defeat such abomination of this new age., keeping the people safe once more.

Yes… a single mission was now finished.

Now, all that remains is to finish the story, placing myself amongst the minds of my fellow students. Striking fear into their hearts before they even came to fight me.

I wonder if they would call me anything, like Miss Nikos? Perhaps Dragonslayer Mors Ignis? The Slayer Mors Ignis?

An excited chuckle managed to escape my lips at the mere idea. Living in a small estate, barely noticed by any true noble, then cursed with the Dark Sign itself. It was a sure impossibility that I would gain any form of title within the Undead Burg. Aside from one such title, one given to all who could be seen as worthy.

The Chosen Undead… a title that practically every undead gained. Solaire, Logan, Tarkus, even the Carrim Knight held this title.

But here…

It was a pure moment of giddiness, that lifted my spirit ever so slightly. A sure fire chance at a title, be it among peers or experts themselves.

It was vain, yes, but after what felt to be a lifetime of being called undead, filth, second rate, or even the imaginative 'thing.'...

I believed I was allowed such comforts of sin.

"But," I spoke up, the attention returning to me within a single flap of a Dragon's Wing. "Before we were able to exploit such a weakness." Placing a certain emphasis on the word weakness, in case the few did not catch it the first time.

"The beast charged…" The humongous body would have left many rooted in place in fear. Even seasoned veterans would have balked at such a thing. "As quakes followed close behind it."

"It grazed both of the warriors, as I was left unscratched from behind." I was behind the creature, Solaire of Astora at a great distance. The Carrim Knight stayed at the front, still training to kill the dragon with such glee. Like a true, unfeeling berserker. "Continuing to swing at its tail, even as it charged ahead, said appendage swinging in ecstasy, nearly bashing me on all sides.

"It ran head first into one of the many walls. Arms flailing around, the very room shaking the resounding boom echoing out of the hall. Trying to grab one of the many warriors." The many students seemed to grow in interest at the near deaths of my partners. No doubt the story gaining more interest the closer we all were to our nonexistent deaths. "Quite honestly, I feared we would all die from the cave collapsing upon all four of us!"

"Solaire continued to use his spears," I spoke reenacting throwing the spears of lighting, remembering the Dragon's many cries of pain and anguish. Trying to rush towards the great Warrior of Sunlight. "From a great distance, drawing the attention of this massive dragon. Each time the scales fell away without fail, leaving spots that Sir Lautrec exploited without fail."

The Knight of Carrim practically climbed into the mouth of the beast. The smile no doubt on his face, as he tried to make the creature bleed out from it's most precious orifice. Each strike let out an almost psychotic laugh, while insulting it all the while.

Before anything could be said and done, the dragon was already reaching its end. Lightning Spears embedding into his body, a crazed and delirious sociopath taking out it's teeth and eyes with surgical joy. And a man whose strength, even at that moment, could crack stone with his fists beating at his tail.

"Needless to say, despite the grand intimidation," I continued on from my thoughts, flowing into the story as naturally as I could craft it. "The battle was already beginning to close.

"Not that it was easy, even for me." I spoke only the tiniest hint of pride managing to escape from my tone. Like how many should react while reenacting such a dangerous and life threatening battle. "Already I was growing tired and panicked from the many tail swipes of this beast. Breath heavy, alongside my many swipes across the berth of its tail…"

"But this beast didn't care about its pain…" I spoke, adding just a touch more intimidation. The young students drank it up as if it were Estus itself.

"It still hungered." The memory of the dragon gobbling up the stone leaving a large scar in the ground. The sound was reminiscent of the many times it crushed my skeleton to mere bone marrow. "It wanted to eat the many creatures it was tasked to destroy."

"Which was where I gained the idea that would fell the beast!" A wide smile at mere memory of such an idea. The stiffeners picking up on the excitement I held at the mere thought of what might come to fruition.

It was rather simple idea, one that relied on one of the only things I held, even now.

"To start such an idea," I started, the lumbering sound of metal footfalls on stone echoing in my head. A cry of anger and slight fear, as I rumped on to one of it's scales with one hand. My sword still out for my needed plan to succeed. "I began to climb the body. Grabbing the thick bone and climbing higher and higher. Reaching the target location I needed. "

That single thing that managed to stay with me since the beginning.

"I grabbed the very edge of its mouth, my sword with its hook-like curve embedded in the tail. My aura barely defended against the jagged maw of this beast."

A thing that only Smough, Tarkus and the great Giants held over me.

Pure strength itself.

"The beast felt such a thing, but didn't even begin to care." My words were getting quicker and deliberate, filled with excitement and nervousness I held at that single moment. "It had already spotted one of the Huntsman, its hunger growing. It began to move its mouth downward, its hunger compelling it to ignore the pain in its tail."

"I could feel my body practically trying to tear itself apart." My hand began to cut itself apart, the small teeth at the edge of its mouth trying to cut it off. The strain already present, despite it not making its move. "My shoulders and elbows nearly dislocated from the effort alone, a scream leaving my body. But I held fast, ignoring all the popping in every part of my body, those few seconds filled with burning pain."

It was a roar. A roar of effort, anger and sheer spite at this creature. I would not lose to it again! If it wished to block my path, than it would face my blade!

The second bell was within mere seconds away!

I refuse, let it take it away from me!

I pulled my arms closer together, the sheer weight of the tail making my arms freak in effort. A louder, unneeded breath echoing out in yet another roar…

But then pain erupted from within. I was no longer able to breathe, even if I wished to. My lungs no longer moved, a taste of rotted liquid filling my mouth in seconds. Pressure pushing against my chest, as if something wished to escape from my chest, as a thore of pain echoed out

My arms still held tight, but they would not move. I could not pull them together. Something straining against the outside of my chest…

My ribs must have split in half.

I felt the rumble on my hand, the beast crying out in hunger, as it spun around. Following the manic laughter of the Knight of Carrim below me.

But my ribs gave out before my arms and will did. Each second a constant burning that spread further and further, deeper and deeper into my arms. Still holding on through sheer gall and spite.

More snaps sounded out, like multiple twigs being destroyed under a boot… a dull yet sharp pain deep within my shoulders. A thick and sluggish liquid seeping out of my shoulders, a rancid smell of rotted blood filling the air. Another groan, echoing out unintentionally a mixture of pain and anger!

I couldn't help but notice my arms, extending further than usual. A peak of white under thickeather and armor. Another scream of pain and spite, as the dragon hungered further!

Spite!

Rage!

More cracks, within my elbows this time. A roar of pain echoing out. My arms growing longer and longer, with each passing second...

"Mors!"

Pray tell… whose voice was that.

Red… pain.

Black… fading vision.

My eyes wishing to close, to end this…

No…

Keep going…

Never let go!

You have died more than once…

You have survived what most couldn't!

I will not die, as a worthless hollow!

Not unt-

But then it all stopped… the floor approaching me with speed I couldn't imagine. Many rocks and boulders scattered on the ground. Even the remnants of scales and other hot viscera.

But I did not let go…

I was flung.

I could no longer move. Even as the earth embraced me… I felt no pain, no relief…

The only thing I could do was listen, everything faded except two things. Each of them echoing out through the hall, the final little battle within this damned chamber.

The sound of a large object hitting the ground, the stones breaking even further.

And the loud, all encompassing screech, of true pain. That echoed out into the Burg itself, maybe even to the Great Anor Londo.

I was supposed to feel pain. Weariness.

Perhaps even the closing scythe of Nito.

But all I felt was the smile grow… wider and wider.

We had won…

For an undead, one who apparently deserved nothing but the scraps of all. Those who could die from a single feeling of hopelessness, who held no benefits of the living.

We killed a dragon…

I could practically feel my heart beat once again

Victory never tasted like this.

"But, those few seconds were enough." I spoke, shaking off the memory, trying my hardest to continue with the story. Rewriting the few details that I wished to keep only to myself.

"As the beast helped me cleave through its own tail, a heavy thud filled the chamber as the cursed appendage began to disappear."

A small sound echoed through the hall, tiny little things like the flicker of a flame. Those who did stopped within a single second, some even turning into the color of crimson. One of which was Sir Jaune, who's heat I could practically feel.

I chuckled a tiny bit, at the expense of many. After all, 'twas not my fault for the fun they held with my story.

"The beast thrashed on the ground," The embarrassed peeking up one last time. Waiting to hear a true ending that they could applaud. "Finally feeling the supposed pain of its loss. Right as I practically collapsed from exhaustion. The wasted energy I spent on the tail finally catching up to me within those seconds of victory."

"Then there was a single final crash…" The expressions of the students filled with fear and intrigue once again, especially at the vagueness of such an interruption. Perhaps it was another beast, another challenge that will soon come.

"A strike of lightning and another painful scream that rocked the very chasm." I spoke up, a sort of whimsy within my voice. The happy memory of the paladin entering my vision. "I looked up one last time…" My hand raised up, holding an imaginary spear of the Gods Miracles.

"As Solaire Astora," I brought the imaginary spear down, a tension fading as if the entire room realized what that action truly meant. The world let out a deep breath, as another immortal creature was slain from its surface. "Stabbed one last bolt into the creature's head. The cries of this dragon fading alongside its body."

"And the Gaping Dragon was no more." I held out a hand, waiting for that applause that was promised to me, just mere moments again. The smile grew slightly wider, as I basked in such comforts. If my heart still beat alongside the many students, the blood would have most certainly rushed to my cheeks in satisfaction.

Only one did not clap.

But, once again, I attributed it to his recluse nature. The smallest piece of a nod, as my sight focused on him.

"Sadly," A hand managed to make it's way behind my head, the smile still on my face as the applause faded ever so slightly. "I don't remember much afterwards. I managed to make myself pass out from such exhaustion."

Before I knew it, I awoke. Both knights standing around, The Carrim Knight sitting as he usually did, leaning against the fading corpse of the slain beast. Solaire of Astora choosing to look at whatever light he could find within the dark sewer. Ready to stretch his arms, in praise of the light above, for such a fated victory.

"I could not help but remember what Solaire Astora did." I spoke, a fond smile upon my face. As I reached slightly into my pocket, feeling a smooth cloth, inside my pocket. The smile on the verge of turning into one of forlorn sadness. But even so, I continued onward with my speech. "He practically inspired me to always carry lightning crystals. Using them to break apart the scales of dragons, and their other ilk."

Yes… that was the reason.

"I have found it!"

My hand gripped tightly, a small forced smile managing it's way upon my face. Such a sour memory destroying any of the previous joy for the merest of seconds, before another smile returned.

"Now then…" I spoke, trying to change the subject a tiny bit. The smile full force and fake, not that many of the people below me could tell. A hand outstretched to the audience below me, voice loud and boisterous, as per usual. "I believe it's someone else's turn to tell their tale!"

A laugh, deep from someone's stomach all the way at the front of the class, gaining some form of amusement from my actions. The portly Professor Port's mustache practically a smile in it of itself, hands held behind his back.

"An incredible achievement Mors Ignis." He spoke, my head tilting high as if to look at the very sky. Arms crossing, as I basked in praise once agai-

"But there was something I found strange."

Huh?

I brought my head down, looking forward in confusion. The profesor nodded his head, as he lifted a Scroll from his pocket.

"It is only in the name of such a creature… Dragon."

What was wrong with that? Surely if the lesser Wyverns still existed in the world, then at least one of the mighty dragons still exist?

"I would like to ensure all of you." Professor Port spoke out, still looking through his Scroll as he spoke. A tone that was crafted to placate fears, like how most would talk to a child. "That Grimm Dragons do not exist."

What? Why wouldn't they try to emulate such beasts? They were perhaps the strongest thing outside of gods.

Would they not wish to use it's visage?

Perhaps these creatures too, like the Demons of Izalith, were scared of the might of the remnants of Dragons. Or have become transformed into more of a myth than any form of legend?

"Your story, however, is not false." He spoke up immediately, looking at me directly in the eyes. "It was instead, an Ancient Drake, mutated through what you described."

With his piece stated, he flicked something upward on his scroll.

For a picture to appear once more on the screen. One of a pride and true Drake, a bipedal dragon without wings. A helm-like face with four great horns flowing backwards with its neck. Multiple white plates, more reminiscent of armor than scales. A long and thick tail, with three spikes at the very tip like a thick and heavy mace. Even many sharp spines on its back, each the length of knives. Everything else was of dragonic nature.

One that looked nothing like the creature I had described.

"Do not blame yourself for this mistake!" Professor Port spoke, placing his scroll within the depths of his pockets. "Many, even in legends, have made such an error."

As if one could craft such a mistake! One held wings and destroyed all from the very sky, like a demon of destruction and death.

The other was a creature of the earth that could barely scale a wall! True, that was the wall of Anor Londo, but even so they were practically children.

"Why," He turned his head around looking at the many students one last time. The glimmer deep within, the same when he was speaking of the many great Grimm in the world. "One merely has to look at the Hero of the Settlement, Lydda."

Lydda? I turned my head slightly, searching the small map in the corner. What did tha-

"George the Dragonslayer."

I turned my head swiftly to my right, as I could practically feel the bones trying to snap within my neck. Right as I stared at the confused Sir Jaune, who was looking at Professor Port.

A dragonslayer? Could it have truly been?

"However," The Professor continued, nodding at Sir Jaune with a smile on his face. "Despite the popularity of such a tale, this had been proven false among the eyes of the Four Kingdoms."

"As far as stories and history are concerned." He spoke, a piece of finality in his tone, that many of the students managed to hear.

"Dragons have never existed in the world of Remnant."

I wanted to speak out right there. Tell them how the dragons did in fact exist, they were life and death incarnate. A being existing forevermore, that could bring the entire world to ruin.

But how was he able to speak it with such certainty? How was it that the closest thing to a dragon anyone had ever seen was in fact a Wyvern? How could they manage to forget them, in any way shape or form?

Perhaps the death of all dragons?

No… They were far too smart and resilient to ever truly disappear. Especially after their very weakness being exploited for as long as it had. They would be careful, despite their pride.

Still so many questions of this age...

"Now then," He continued once more, the bright smile upon his face once more. "I believe it's time for our next story."

Many hands raised up simultaneously, a fact that made Sir Port below in laughter. Even I could not

"Yes!" He spoke up, the hint of laughter in his voice that seemed to spread quite quickly. His hand raised to his chin in thought. "How abo-"

A single noise, sharp and loud filled the room. And, for the first time within these halls, that the sound was met with a collective groan.

Professor Port even muttered something, the room filled with too many whispers to make it out. I rose with them, already making towards the door.

"It appears you have an appointment in the lunchroom." He spoke, a certain sadness filling his tone. As if he was disappointed that he would not hear of more excellent stories. "You have no assignments, but I entrust that you will study the many stories of the world."

A smile spread across my face. Yes, no work from within the confines of my board! Right as I exited the room, Team JNPR and Venatores, as silent as ever, close behind me.

At least, none that had to do with writing and studies.

Yes… so many questions and not enough answers. But asking them here and now would be fruitless… after all.

Questions are only useful, to those who can answer them. And, with the Professors certainty in such things, it was obvious that he would not be able to answer.

In such situations… The head is the best place to look.

But, for now, my curiosity must be satiated.

"A dragonslayer?" I spoke up, right as we made our way to the door. The golden visage of Oresenstein entered my mind, his fierce stare forced me to tighten my grip, even after his fated end by his comrade.

"Y-yeah," Sir Jaune spoke, hand reaching to the back of his head, as the chatter finally began to die down. Footsteps echoing all throughout the halls, as hundreds of feet made their way to the lunchroom. "As the Professor said, he's a Hero from where I live. Everyone from there knows about him."

Of course, that at most was obvious. Anything that could slay a dragon would be heralded as a savior.

"Do you think he actually managed to kill a dragon?" Nora spoke up, a wide smile on her face at the sheer idea of such a creature existing. Her mania, fairly similar to the Knight of Carrim, and perhaps even the Great Executioner himself. "Or Mors, did you beat one up, like actually beat it up."

But of course I slayed one! Even if the professor, or the rest of the world, didn't believe it, I of course slayed it.

And of course I would speak of i-

"As the professor stated," Venatores spoke, as everyone turned their attention to him, moving ever forward. His single eye not upon the conversation, instead to the corner of his socket. "Dragons don't exist. So either both Mors and George exterminated the last of a dangerous, Kingdom felling species, or they simply killed something like it and couldn't tell the difference."

I turned my head to the side, trying to see where my partner was looking. The many allies beside us let off an awkward air, especially at his rather blunt mannerisms.

Well, at least they managed to keep their promises.

But nothing was there, nothing else but the constant flow of students escaping the prison of learning. All walking slowly, or running with enthusiasm to the lunchroom, whether it be to talk amongst allies or just mere hunger.

Then again, he is one who is vastly cautious of all of his surroundings. A trait that, in the field, was very much a talented gift.

"Was that an insult?" I spoke up, tone calm and collected more questions of interest than any offense. My gaze turned back to my partner, his meeting mine without any form of hesitation. Though there was challenge and steel within my voice, there was also a coy smile upon my lips, showing I took no offense.

"Observation." He spoke evenly, turning his head forward yet that single eye staring as far back as it could go.

"I think they're smarter than you give them credit for." Sir Jaune spoke up, a sigh escaping his lips.

Right as he turned pale as a ghost, Venatores' eye turned upon him with a mere glance at the back of his head. Of course, there was no malice, or really anything except a blank stare. But, I suppose that was enough for chills to climb dangerously up one's spine.

"How so?" My partner asked, a little piece of curiosity in his tone. His body still straight, eye turning back to behind him.

I looked back again with him… no. There were still just students. Each of them looking at the other, or just straight ahead, some even just in their own scroll. Some even turned their attention to me, a look of curiosity on their face.

But no one here was in a-

I turned my eyes sharply, right towards the near silent feel against my skin. A feel that I had grown used to within the depths of Blighttown. As I tried most strenuously to find those damn Blowdart Snipers.

But no one was there. Once more just more students walking along, not even a corner to duck around under. Just students moving through the hallway, trying to make their way once again.

But it felt… off. Just a tiny little bit.

"W-well…" Sir Jaune spoke, my gaze turning back towards him and his slight nervous smile. But also one filled with a certain fondness, like viewing a pleasant memory. "His sword Ascalon… It's said that it was a Lightning Dust Crystal, created to look like a sword. That's what's spoken anyway, and it follows Mors' story."

Yes… a Lightning enchanted sword.

I turned my head back around…

Only to feel everything go back to… normal, one could hazard. Nothing different at all, the strange prickling on my neck disappearing. As if I had just imagined it.

"Woah…" Miss Valkyrie exclaimed, most likely a bright smile on her face, with a hint of niche out trouble. "Is it still around?"

I turned back around, sure enough to see the manic smile on her face. One that blossomed yet another look of slight fear with my companion.

I shook my head, a smile of my own gracing my lip. Perhaps Venatores constant paranoia was beginning to worm its way within my head.

"Nora." Lady Nikos spoke, a stern yet gentle tone in her voice almost immediately wiping the smile from Miss Valkyrie's face. A hand from Sir Lie reaching out to pat her on the small of her back, in some means of comfort.

"It was destroyed while slaying it." Sir Jaune spoke with a small smile on his face. "At least, that's how the story always ends."

Aw… I wished to know the location of this sword. Despite the apparent shortage of Dragons within this new age, a sword vastly similar to the Sword of Sunlight that Solaire himself would be vastly useful to wield.

Although, I could see why the young hammer wielder would wish for a weapon of such power. A practically constant flow of electricity into her very being, powering her up.

It was quite the surprise, to see such a boost of might. A very useful ability similar to the mighty Pyromancy of Power Within. Not that it ever would match my own strength, but it would most certainly beat most creatures.

"Well," I spoke up, a beaming smile on my face, putting past that small piece of paranoia. "I say he was the genuine article especially with his sword of his. A sword of lightning would penetrate their armor easily."

"It is interesting to hear about." Lady Nikos spoke up quickly afterwards, a small smile dusted upon her face. Her attention was on Sir Jaune, as she began to speak. "Maybe you can tell us more of the story at lunch?"

"Oh sure." Sir Jaune spoke quickly, the smile on his face a complete opposite as it was during the small test. Or deep within the white moonlight room of the nurses office. "My sisters used to tell me that story all the time, I could tell it in my sleep."

"Truly?" I managed to speak, a slight mystified expression on my face, with a coy smile. Trying to manage to make a small joke a-

"Expression, Mors." Venatores spoke up, the same baldness in his tone. Still looking over his shoulder, before bringing it forward.

"It was a jest." I spoke, any form of joke deflating as I felt myself if I shrunk a few inches. A small little chuckle managed to make its way out of most of Team JNPR, despite it being at my own expense.

Venatores raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down. Expression unchanging in any way as he let out a near silent hum, as if absentminded. His eyes set forward as we continued along the path towards the lunchroom. Perhaps his paranoia was satiated?

But at the same time as mine was? A feeling settling deep within my gut, one filled with caution and confusion. Could someone have truly been following us…

No, it's a crowded hall of students and fellow knights. Twas not the Undead Burg, or the cathedral within Anor Londo, it was a mere hall.

Unless of course, someone snuck in… Waiting for a perfect moment to strike, like hollowed assassins within abandoned homes?

…If they were following us, either specifically or otherwise. The best plan to see would be to separate, and judge what was happening.

Such a difficult thing to do, whilst everyone was making their way to a lunchroom. Perhaps I could manage the washroom as an excuse, or feigning illness. Or perhaps a need to finish some unfinished homework I did no-

"Mors?"

I turned around, eyes widened slightly as I swerved my head to look to the one who spoke to me. Sir Jaune there, looking in a small amount of confusion towards me. Most of the others following close behind, drawn by the question of their very leader.

My response was immediate, so very immediate out of pure reaction from days long past.

"Apologizes," My voice on the verge of a laugh, that washed away any concern from Team JNPR in all it's entity, smiles on their face. "Lost in thought."

Of course, that did not stop the usual untrusting glare that moved my way, this time with a small piece of gratitude. As I turned my attention towards my partner, his single brow rising as he looked at me. The constant mistrust still on his face.

My response was rather simple, a mere look behind me before returning my vision. To the front, quick and without seeing truly anything, looking at Venatores through my own peripheral.

Just in time to see the pupil dilate ever so slightly, the jaw clenching. The look of someone whose suspicions and paranoias, at least that of a soldier, were confirmed. Nodding his head ever so slightly, before turning his gaze forward.

Now all that remained, was a method to escape. Or at least apprehend this little rat that appeared to be following us diligently…

But what is there to do? Most methods included splitting off from the main group and were currently unavailable without looking some level of suspicious, especially if twas both of us.

"So…"

My eyes widened ever so slightly, as I turned my attention to yet another surprise of the day. Even Team JNPR was looking, a small look of confusion and immediate interest on their face.

For when it is Venatores that starts a conversation, all will pay attention. HIs attention on me, with a look that was still fairly bland, as if they heard he was not being followed.

"How did you escape its jaws?" He asked, his single eyebrow raised as he looked at me. Team JNPR raised an eyebrow in question, confused by such a question.

All I could manage was a loud laugh, a hand making its way to the back of my skull. To think someone would have guessed that. "Was it obvious?"

But what did this have to do with it?

No, Venatores was practically a scholar of Vinheim. Follow the lead, until you can connect.

"Not really." Venatores spoke out, his gaze moving forward to the rest of the team. His head nodded, with the smallest piece of enthusiasm he could manage. "You hid it well."

I blinked slightly, most certainly my eyes widening to put a small dumb look on my face…

This was definitely strange.

"What's going on?" Sir Jaune whispered out, possibly also noting the strangeness that was currently occurring. Although it was not very quiet, and even my partner managed a small eye roll.

"How'd you escape?" Venatores asked suddenly, as my mind was brought back to that ancient beast of ravines gluttony. His look was rather piercing, as if this was something important.

"Pulled out a tooth and used it as a spear." I told the truth, remembering the sound of tearing flesh, and the cracks of bone sounding out. Sadly, I died shortly after as, despite my diligent escape, was split in half painfully.

"Slit it's stomach open, and crawled out." Venatores spoke, nodding his head slightly while his single eye pierced into me.

A similar experience… but what did that have to do with it? What kind of excuse ca-

My eyes widened ever so slightly, as I stopped myself from making my mouth agape, though it would be natural in such an instance. The intense look from Venatores fading slightly, his head nodding as if understanding what that look meant.

After all, I now knew what he was planning.

After all, there was always a single way to leave while still acting natural. After all, warriors all have one thing that they must prove…

"Both of you were eaten!" Miss Nikos spoke out, a small look of confusion and horror stretched across her face. Even a look of pure disgust, which was the thought of many, at the idea of being swallowed.

"What was it like?" Miss Valkerie spoke, not with her usual piece of enthusiasm, instead a similar look of slight disgust, but unable to destroy her curiosity.

"Don't answer that." Sir Lie spoke up quickly, his hand raised in a futile attempt to stop it. Though, not so futile that I didn't listen to his plea. After all, we had to split up very soon indeed.

They must prove their Pride.

"Impressive, by the way!" I spoke, a large smile on my face as I lifted my chin up. A small air of superiority, though, not to the point of obnoxiousness. "Alas my achievement stands superior."

"Have you cut through the stomach lining of a Shark Giant?" Venatores spoke up quickly, the monster unfamiliar… would it be a giant with a shark's head? A small shiver managed it's way down my spine, especially if it managed to swallow him whole. "The fact I stand before you is a testament-"

"To the sword you wield." I interrupted smoothly,a coy smile reaching my lips. Taking a very little satisfaction from such a comment. Especially after absentmindedly insulting my intelligence. "I pulled out a tooth the size of my body using strength alone."

"There wasn't enough room for my sword." He spoke up quickly with a refute, hand reaching into the depths of his coat. Pulling out one of his thin throwing knives. His tone is firm and unchanging, as if unaffected by such a jab. The thin blade's sharpness is clear for any onlooker to see, but lacking in comparison to his usual blade. "I had to use one of these."

"Once more, a sharp knife." I repeated simply, smiling as I closed my eyes for a mere second.

Opening them was an immediate regret.

The look, his single eye, could practically kill a full grown giant. A slight shiver traveling down my spine, my smile failing ever so slightly.

Was this acting, or perhaps I took a single bound to far? It was surely difficult to tell.

"I jest." I spoke, an awkward little laugh to ensure that he knew of the how I was currently feeling. My eyesight wandered ever so slightly. Trying to avoid such contact.

How is it that I have faced gods, demons, and even the Lord of the Abyss himself...

Yet, here I stand, practically cowering before a man shorter, and most certainly, inferior in strength?

"Better than that blunt instrument you call a sword."

The glare disappeared, leaving me to stand there stunned with what remained of scattered words. Each second spent piecing together the words that were most certainly some form of insult.

"Hey," Miss Nikos managed to speak up, a calming tone in her voice, that was on the verge of motherly. One that, if it were any other situation, would have calmed people down. "Why don't we ju-"

Sadly, that was the moment that I truly understood what he said.

Blunt instrument! Even for an act that treads upon a line, of an ancient hero.

"Now that is an insult!" A small piece of actual anger in my tone, one that I would usually restrain. Though not to the point that I sounded like a mere brute. "The Blade of Artorias can easily best that… 'sword' you carry."

"Burial Blade." He spoke without a second thought, as if angered by me calling it a mere blade. Perhaps his sword held a similar history to it, or perhaps another piece of acting. "And it might easily exceed yours."

"Well…" I spoke, the coy smile returning though this time a little fiercer. Venatores met it, with slightly less intensity than he usually did. My hands reach to my side in a single piece of superiority. "We are so close to our coliseum. Perhaps we test our weaponry?"

"Very well." Venatores agreed without complaint, splitting off almost immediately. As if waiting to hear those words.

"What ju-" Sir Jaune tried to start, a small piece of confusion present on his face.

But I was currently feeling on a roll. And, quickly interrupted my friend, a single finger pointed at him. Right as he stood stiff straight, as if I were practically a commander.

In which case, I was.

"Sir Jaune, save us our seats during lunch!" I spoke, his eyes widened slightly at the finger in front of his face. A broad smile of challenge on my face. "We will return within five minutes!"

"Three." Venatores spoke out, even as he continued to walk away. He was already a few paces away, practically around the corner.

"We will return very soon indeed." I spoke, heavy steps moving to catch up to my partner. Only with a final roar of unknown triumph, as I raced after my partner. "To battle!"

It was simple to catch up, turning the corner simply to where he was.

Venatores was right next to me before I could even comprehend. The single knife that he showed just recently out, before he twisted it into reverse grip, hidden by his forearm. His pace was quick, but still managing to be quiet as I managed to keep pace. Even as the whispering in the halls, or the loud steps began to fall silent. Leaving only something quiet.

Even in the sunlight, the halls seemed to grow eerie, especially knowing that we were being stalked through such halls.

But that feeling would only serve to heighten our senses.

"Do you sense them at all," I said, my steps loud as I tried to keep in time with him. My hand out and eyes behind, ready to shoot out a fireball at anyone that might come. A small twinge of hesitation at the thought of it being a student or fan. "Or even smell?"

"No," He spoke up quickly as we turned yet another corner. Closer to the targeted location that we had begun to set out for. "Too far behind. Whoever it is, they aren't an amateur."

At least that got rid of some of the students. Aside from possibly Belladonna, except Venatores would know that it was her. He held some experience, especially after the test.

Well, at least I could use a Great Fire Orb instead of a regular Fire Orb.

"A professional?" I spoke up, the usual cheer in my voice pushed to the side. Right as we turned behind yet another long corridor. Unable to see the perpetrator or feel their gaze, which was a good thing.

"Not an amateur." He responded simply, his other hand reaching quietly into his chest pocket. Ready to pull out his gun as well.

If this were any other situation, I most certainly would have laughed. But, in this single moment, all I needed to say was this. "How shall we proceed?"

"The coliseum has a lock." Venatores spoke, quickly and quietly as he hurried along. Right as he pulled out a little card, the one specific to the little coliseum of ours, which he was pulling out instead of his gun. "They will most likely try to do something before we enter. They'll think they have the advantage, and we'll attack. Your strength should be enough even without the sword."

"If they do nothing," He continued, as he quickened his pace. I had to practically jog to keep up. We were, after all, close to the coliseum. "Then we might be able to get the drop on them, with our equipment no less."

The best we could manage at the moment. Filled with too many holes, and not enough answers. And, I'd rather not die to get them.

But, we have very little choice in the matter, until we get to them. After all, we would have noticed a group, so that left only a single person.

But even a single person could kill us, especially if we were cocky,

"Very well." I spoke softly, my muscles working, even without the exclamation of air. My attention focused on the up and coming door that laid around the corner. "You should be careful, you look weaker standing next to me. They'll go for you first."

"Incorrect," Venatores spoke up quickly, keeping in time. Staring it as if it were pure fact, instead of a mere insult. "The Fang will attack you, and take me prisoner. From what I hear, some are just like the Snatchers of Yahar'gul."

Right… of course he'd think it would be them. But, even despite his assurance, there's no way it could be them.

Aside from that, what was a Snatcher? Either that, or the title Yahar'gul, was that a place? Both names together, despite lack of knowledge, brought a small shiver into my hand.

"I doubt the White Fang would send one of their own crawling into a School of Warriors." I spoke my thoughts, bringing them to the open for Venatores to hear. Picking up my pace, so that I can get in front of him. "Even still, you should stay ahead of me, I can take some damage. While you steal away the opportunity to end our rouge."

"If they're cocky enough, they might." He answered, pace quickening as we approached the room matching my own speed. Finally making noise within his steps, something that reminded me that he was human, not some wraith. "And no, they'll stab you in the neck, like most goliaths. You'll be dead. You should be in front."

Of course I won't be in the front! No matter the small piece of care in his companions, it was the duty of a Knight to take the blows!

Even if that did me a walking human shield. Better than someone of mortal durability to take it.

"Besides… We might need this one alive." Venatores spoke evenly, despite still running forward in the hall. A thing that made me question severely if he was an undead. "Who knows what kind of informati-"

Then he stopped talking, as well as moving. Stopping within a single second, as if he wasn't running.

I tried to stop quite as fast, turning around with a tiny little piece of pain within my shins at the sudden stop.

I turned around…

Only to see Ven's face distant. It was still there, but it looked like he was not. His eyes glazed over, the usual grimace on his face gone. He was merely staring forward, through me. Looking close to how any unguarded person would react. He didn't even look like he was currently breathing, just standing there like a statue.

This was honestly scarier than him glaring at me, or his usual guarded persona.

"V-venatores." I spoke, quickly making my way closer to him.

No response.

An uneasy chill crawled up my spine. One that was commonplace within my journey, as I quickly shoved it back down. One that warned me of many, many bad situations.

A feeling that did not need to be present here, as I waved my hand hurriedly in front of my partner's face.

No response.

"What is the matter!?" I practically screeched out, grabbing a hold of both shoulders in slight panic. "Did you perhaps sense th-"

His face changed so suddenly, I couldn't comprehend the transformation. Like a face melting into another expression, instead of shifting.

Then he spoke.

"G̴͉̭͍͊͐̃̽̾̓̄͗̐̓̔̌̑̀̇ě̴͔͓͗̆̔͛̽̈́̈̽̃͠t̶̰̙̺͍̗͚̮̣͆̄̓̇͊̃͝͝ ̸̮̺͇̫̯͖͕̖̬̣̽͐́̑̀͋͋́̀͝͝o̷̧̝̯͙̘͈̹̟̜͚͆͂̅̔̓͊̀̑̊ư̵̡̧̟̙̣̖̼̬̪̯͕̲̺̎̾͜͝ẗ̷̪͇͚͔̜́͊̽͛͌́͂̈́͊̈́͗̽͘!"

I flinched quickly, the words filling and escaping my mind as he spoke them. Incompressible gibberish, that managed to sound like a combination of guttural growls, and other strange aberrations that a voice shouldn't make.

I couldn't even understand if that small piece of language even came from him, as I felt bombarded on all sides by this strange voice. Each one changing in tone and pitch, making it all just some strange piece of white noise.

I wanted to cover my ears, hoping that the noise could possibly stop. My eyes wide open, as his mouth continued to move in deafening whispers.

Before I could understand, Venatores was onhis knee, hand gripping his head tightly. A slight panting in his breath, ashis other hand reached for something absent minded.

Was this perhaps some ailment, or some other abysmal plague that infested him?What sort of thing could possibly manage th-

Movement.

That's right… we were being followed.

Before even I could properly understand it, I bolted down to that single corner. My muscles practically tore themselves in half, as I raced down to the corner in which they disappeared. Every large step practically shakes the hall, leaving dents and cracks deep within the floor.

I didn't even try to turn the corner, merely grabbing it as a means to swing just as quickly. The wood pulled out of its frame as I flung down into the hall. A small, but sharp pain within my shoulder.

But that didn't matter at that moment. As I turned the corner, my second hand ready and burning with a bright fire…

But no one was there. The fire fading away in my hand, as I left out a small growl, before turning down yet one of the other corridors.

Nothing, the small piece of rage fading as quickly as it came.

I knew this rouge came this way… so where are they?

No…

Something strange was going on. A rouge followed us, and just as suddenly disappeared.

I turned back around, seeing Venatores beginning to stand up, hand still on his head.

At least someone here could understand it. As I turned around, looking down on the small dents within the ground from my bounding. Ones that could very well go unnoticed if one wasn't looking.

"No one." I spoke up, a piece of frustration I didn't want to enter. My hand grip slightly, as I took a small and tiny unneeded breath. Trying to calm such a storm of flame within my chest. The small breath practically did nothing. "What hap-"

"You were tricked." Venatores spoke, a fire of anger in his own tone. Hand still on his head, he began taking large breaths through his nose, as if to calm himself down. His eyes widened ever so slightly. Before he waved it aside, as if calming down with that single breath. "Doesn't matter, they're probably long gone by now."

"What are y-" I tried to speak up, just as Venatores went past me. His gate quick, the floor strangely beginning to acknowledge his very presence with soft clicks.

What on earth did that rouge do to him?!

I quickly kept pace, looking at any location where my partner was looking.

"Someone tried to invade my mind." He spoke, the voice almost a whisper of rage. Something that I almost ignored as I began to digest the small piece of information. "Tried to make me see what wasn't there… They must've made you see something that wasn't real."

Made me see...

"Bastard of Gwyn!" I screamed out, nearly punching the wall as a memory began to play in the back of my head. The stray memory of our journey here, and the feeling that tingles in my spine.

"Don't worry." Venatores spoke, stopping at a near corner of the hall. Looking downwards as he inhaled another small breath through his nostrils. Before looking down, point to bring my attention to it. "Any revenge you have planned,"

I looked towards it, right on the carpeted floor...

Covered in small droplets of blood. Each one spaced erratically, each of them beginning to fade into the carpet. Each on the whole face of the carpet, like footsteps to the other side of the hall.

Where a light breeze blows through an open widow… one that wasn't open when I had come through here. Blood on the pure golden frame, maring the beauty of the school just a tiny little bit.

"They received a hundred fold."

I nodded, the knowledge still filling me with that flame of anger. One that I tried to bury with more breathing, as I began to stride forward. Foot already on the sill.

It opened out to a courtyard, simple bushes, trees and flowers. Perfect for a tiny little lunch in the sun, a large fountain sparkling making a rainbow form in the light sun.

I looked directly down, seeing the perfectly cut bushes. Even in the early fall, looking practically great…

If it weren't for the human shaped dent in the leaves, multiple perfect racked fallen flora shifted once again onto the green. All of which suggested that the rogue escaping towards the outwards courtyard.

And of course, just the luck of an undead, none who could present themselves as a witness.

"Don't bother." A hand grabbing my shoulder, quickly making me turn my attention back. A deep scowl on his face right at this moment as he breathed in through his nose once more. His scowl deepening, his grip also tightening slightly on my shoulder. "They're long gone by this point. And from what I can tell they cleaned themselves of blood."

"Tracking will be impossible now."

"You can tell that?" I spoke, slowly climbing down from the sill. As I began turning my head for any of those strange camera-like protrusions. one that could manage to spot this abyss driven rouge in all its glory.

Once again, the luck of the Undead reared its head. No camera in sight, or in the direction that it was needed.

Though the Professors who watch through such inventions most certainly got a piece of entertainment. Perhaps by this rouges design, or a piece of it's own luck.

I turned back around…

Only to see Venatores pointing. Following his line of sight to see the bright fountain.

As well as the small piece of red, and the near untouchable change in the water.

The scent was destroyed. Whatever trail vanishes into the day, alongside our tail.

We were left with nothing.

Nothing but the knowledge that this creature existed and was after one of us.

Right…

I took one last deep breath as I nodded my head, turning around, my eyes still on Venatores. "Then we should get to the coliseum, and discuss further plans."

My partner nodded his head, fierce gaze on the courtyard as he strode backwards. Right before turning himself around, as we made our way to our coliseum.

And I would not leave, class or otherwise, until a plan was crafted.

---

A thing to note about Emerald!

As the recent Volume stated, Emeralds power isn't a matter of placing illusions in front of you to seem real. Her ability is to enter into your mind and mess, one hundred percent with your senses! Especially if you are weaker to mental attacks.

It is a terrifying ability!

As such, Venatores can't see through it. Aside from the Insight Sages guys in Upper Cathedral Ward, he rarely dealt with someone forcing their way into his mind. And even scarier, how silent is compared to it.

So, while he can resist it, only outward stimuli of illusion is he immune to. Just explaining my thoughts on her own abilities.

Besides, I find this a tiny bit more interesting than what is usually presented with the Hunter and Emerald. (No offense to those authors, they still rock.) Aka, she affects his mind, but somehow ignores it and is unable to feel the eldritch horror that lies in his mind.