Crisp, morning air gently blew across the dewed grass as the two men stood atop the cliffs edge. Ozpin looked how he usually did, with his cane extended at his side, although the Hunter was a different case. Over the small amount of time he had to rest, he had made his own outfit, rather than relying on the clothing he had found back in Yharnam. While he enjoyed the designs and the weighty feel of the reinforced garbs, he'd much rather have his own unique style.
A long, black, leathery coat covered his entire body. The extremely resistant Amygdala skin made a perfect set of defensive armour, even if it was annoying to piece and sow together, he just felt lucky that he managed to skin the Greater Amygdala over and over again, the sheer amount of pain that it brought on the creature brought a sadistic smile to his face. At the bottom of the duster tails and the sleeves were the rugged and moving blue-grey fur of a dark beast, each piece of which still created electricity due to the living strings that kept the coat together, resulting in it being slightly alive.
While the writhing fur did seem somewhat ominous, the gloves that covered his hands were very much of the same fashion. They merely seemed to a large amount of black cloth wrapped around the fingers and palm as if it was a bandage, however in between the fabric that once hid the true form of the Yharnam Shadows was chitinous grey plating that was stripped from the face of the vacuous spider. Again, through the usage of living string, he kept the strange remnants of the past alive to a degree, as could be seen as a snake slithered between the bandages, along with the slight dripping of ashen blood at the tips of his fingertips.
Again, black Amygdala skin made the majority of the tight boots he wore, but alongside that was burning fur which seemed to never fade, ripped from the hide of Laurence in frustration and as a way to escape the molten lava that he had thrown up. It covered the boot entrance and along the stitching, giving it a more bestial appearance and left a small trail of fire in his step. Surprisingly, despite how often it would come in contact with his coat, it never left a single scorch mark. Better than what Laurence had done to him, that was for sure. A pale patch of skin on the back of his wrist still could feel next to nothing after the first time he fought against the creature.
Interestingly enough, The Hunter covered his back in a myriad of features. He still kept Gehrman's tattered cloak right beside Maria's cloak in remembrance of the old Hunters, but now there was also more outlandish features. Large, black feathers torn directly from the back of Mergo's Wet Nurse hidden back seemed to move somewhat lively once he attached them to his living garb, similarly to the pale, fleshy trail that once covered the Orphan of Kos's back. They didn't seem to cover the sown in symbol on his back, which was made from the hunters mark, with a large eye at the bottom of the pikes, all sown in patches of the shimmering blue white of Ebrietas lifeless skin and grey hair taken from the mummified head of a sage.
Nothing covered his head, letting his long hair flow freely. The only real thing of extra design was a necklace that hung motionlessly around his neck. Its golden frame held the writhing form of the Yharnam stone, for no other reason than to show that he would let nothing stand in his way.
Both of the teachers, Ozpin and Goodwitch, stood in front of him, the former looking far more sleep deprived than the day before. Miss Goodwitch spoke in a practiced calm voice which contrasted with the heavy beating he could hear within her chest.
"You will travel through the Emerald Forest alone and search for a relic. You have two hours to not only find the relic, but to also return to this point. Are you ready Mr Arc?"
Jaune chuckled, as he seemed to be doing a lot of recently. He nodded as the bloodthirst in his eyes grew hungrier by the second, his hand tightly wrapped around the grip of the curved sword in his hand, putting the Goodwitch on edge as a small smirk grew on his face, his voice was filled with a mixture of gloat and cockiness that nobody would expect from the past version of him.
"Please, even if I merely had fragile clothing to dress my back this would still be easier than carving flesh from bones. This is merely a formality to appease those that dislike me. One question, how am I supposed to reach the forest? Should I just-"
Ozpin cut the Hunter off, resulting in an indifferent huff from the bloodied man. Jaune was more than surprised at how the Headmaster was functioning, whether it was out of necessity or related to the overpowering scent of coffee coming from the man, he had no idea, all he knew was that he should listen to the sleepless man.
"You will be launched from here. I hope you've prepared a landing strategy that doesn't rely on another to save you. While you're there, can you find a group of huntsman that I had sent into the forest? They were to investigate some… disturbing sightings and report back this morning, after you came back, but they never did. I don't know whether I should wish you good luck or the Grimm."
The Hunter was flung into the air as the still chilled morning air brushed against his face, the height granting him a wonderful view of the luscious forest below as the wings on his back spread wide enough to glide him to the ground, but not before he searched for a Grimm with a keen watching eye. Black, viscous liquid tainted the grass as a Beowolf was impaled by the long silver edge of the Burial Blade, before being silenced as the Hunter crushed it under his boot when he landed. Grimm blood splattered across his exposed face and by instinct he licked it, the thick liquid tried to stay together with a large string connecting each part of it together.
A mix between ashy smoke and a vague taste of strong, black liquorice invaded his taste buds as he swallowed the creatures blood harshly. Not the most unpleasant taste he had encountered, but nowhere near as sensational as that of refined human blood. Flakes of the beast floated away in the air as both he and the Burial Blade rose from the ground; the bony creature beneath him let out a few cracks as he walked over the dead being. Popping came from the Hunter's shoulders as he rolled them before looking into the forest, the bloody ghost of a small child looking from the tree line, before disappearing as he blinked.
Wet mud shifted as he walked towards where the girl was, a torn bloody severed hand laid in the dirt. It seemed to still hold a scroll which could have gave him some information about the odd sightings that had been happening; but it was broken, the glass shards stabbing through the severed appendages flesh like thin pointed needles through the weakened, paper thin skin.
Rigor mortis had already settled in, matching the timeframe in which the group of huntsmen went missing. Saliva covered the numbed wrist of the limb as Jaune licked at the torn flesh to get at the iron tasting liquid inside, much to the horrified sight of the students that was watching in the auditorium which caused them to feel, at best, nauseous. In his own sight, an illuminated trail of blood covered the ground as it glowed a moonlight white, his first hint to the missing huntsman and the creature that had seemingly killed them off.
Cuts and blood always made him on edge, both in fear and excitement. To him, it was never life or death; just knowing that he would come back numbed him to the thought of fear. But now, there was a chance of death. Each fight was a gamble of survival even if he was still grossly more powerful than any other thing he had encountered so far. A bored sigh left his lips as he severed another Beowolf in half, before shooting one in the arm with Evelyn.
It practically flew back and almost off its feet, only for the Slayer of Beasts to grapple its mangled fur. He slammed the creature into a tree, before shooting off a branch from the same tree and stabbing it through the creature's sternum. Another wolf tried to swing at him only to be thrown over his shoulder, before bending its elbow inwards with the crisp crack of the joint echoing in the small part of the forest. It howled before its skull was crushed under the mans boot, the black and red dousing the area in a more macabre colouration.
Scratching came from the pinned wolf as it struggled to remove the stick in its chest, before the feeing of the dripping poison coated the thick fur on the Beowolf's head. Bark splintered as he slammed the creature's head repeatedly slammed into the tree, until both the splattered remains of the wolf and the tree fell to the ground lifelessly. Not a single emotion covered Jaune's face as he walked away.
He returned to his search, only to find a torn, eaten body leaning against a tree, the small intestines covering the branches of the trees all around him and the torn apart chest cavity was exposed to the world. A few centimetres from the desecrated body was his scroll, but what caught his attention was not that he had both hands, meaning that it was a different person, but the cuts that was across his body and the way that it was gnarled. Large gashes covered the torso, far larger than that of a Beowolf and far less clean, unlike the unnatural gentle glide of a Grimm's claw. A pang of remembrance echoed in his head as he remembered the sight of villagers butchered by a former cleric turned into a monstrous creature.
He grabbed the scroll before wiping some of the dark, dry sanguine off of its surface with a small amount of spit. While the screen was cracked, it still seemed to play the last recorded message although a small bit muted by the half-broken stereo. He could barely make anything out from the black screen, but there was some slight movement with a harsh sound of breathing.
"Oh-Oh God… I-it butchered them! I'm so, so sorry! Please, I don't want to die, not like what that t-thing did!"
A loud, high pitched howl echoed in the background as loud thumping was heard from a racing creature. It got louder and louder as the man started to shout in panic, causing those in the audience to panic.
"Wait, nononoNONONONO! STOP!"
A large, clawed hand ran through the huntsman's chest, pinning him to the tree as the scroll was launched from the man's hand, before the man went still as the giant creature reared back its head and let out its howling roar. A smile of remembrance covered his face, before a large bloodthirsty grin covered the man's features. To him, there was finally something to enjoy.
"Well, to think a Beast like you would be here of all places. This is no nightmare after all, and there is certainly no Yharnam in this colourful place. But alas, a beast exists here. It seems there truly is a need for a Hunter and…"
The metal pole of the Burial Blade flew open as the curved blade slammed into its latch. It spun around his body, before it cut through the jaw of a pouncing Beowolf, pinning it to the blade.
"… A Hunter must hunt, after all."
Grabbing the upper half of the wolf's snout, he pulled it towards him as blackish blood leaked from the sliced creature's flayed flesh. Like he had done many a time before, he threw the corpse away, before whacking another wolf in the neck with the scythe, knocking it to the ground with a heavy thud and the feeling of its squishy neck giving away. Bone shattered as he drove the creature of darkness onto his pointed knee, the sharp point easily penetrating the black toned skull. Ashes covered another Beowolf as he threw the dissipating corpse at it, before the unrelenting grip of the Hunter began to wrap around its skull, the mushy feeling of what would have been its brain matter dripped and wormed their way from out of his fingers, the ethereal snakes that slithered around the bandages gorged on the creatures matter.
Pale blood dyed the ground a glowing tint as bone shards splintered through the wrapping, each being torn from the flesh by the snakes. Burial Blade now deep within a Beowolf's chest cavity, he carved out the blackened flesh before finishing off the wolf creature with a merciless blow to its neck; the bony claws at the tips of his fingers dug into the malleable flesh as he tore through where the spine should have been, only to instead rip out a long, centipede- like creature. He felt the thousands legs it had try to scurry out of his grp before it was crushed under his disgusted grip, much to the confusion of the unseeing audience. No more Grimm and no more sound echoed over the forest as he had an uneventful journey through the greenery.
It took less than a second for Jaune's eyes to meet the bloody void of the small child. His body froze as it stalked towards him in a twisted, unnatural fashion; the clicking of her knee bones filling his ears before it all stopped, until it truly started.
Desperate wailing filled Jaune's ears as he fell to the ground, his chest heavy as blood dripped from his eyes nose and mouth. The coagulated white seemed to mix with a small tone of red as it continued to poor forth from his features. Skittering chitin travelled down his spine as more corpses looked from beyond the trees, each a face he had killed many times before. They drew closer by the second as more and more bodies joined; the rotting scent of their lifeless flesh filling his senses as his eyes grew heavier and heavier. One of them spoke in a raspy tone, his neck twisted in an odd angle with its vertebrae jutting out from his dirty skin
"You killed us…"
Another moved forward, its jaw half missing and gargling its words as it tried to reach forward to grab at the Hunter with its missing fingers dripping its sanguine as its accusing, glassy eyes stared deep into him.
"You maimed us…"
A man in red and grey moved forward, his ash coloured coat torn wide to the elements as crimson leaked from his gaping wound, each of his words sounding a breathless husk.
"You betrayed us…"
Again, the small girl re appeared before him, her hand trying to reach for his sweat drenched head as he stared into the nothing ness that was her eyes. It spoke in a cutesy voice, morphed by the emotionlessness of death.
"You Abandoned us…"
All he could do was wait for the girl to grasp him. not a single movement came from his body as it forced him through his torment and yet…
"Hey… You… Alright? Not safe… here… Go…"
A whistle-like voice broke him away from the dead and back to reality, just as a heavily injured man crawled from the underbrush. Blue and black bruises covered every inch of his exposed flesh, even the parts that were torn open in a gaping wound had a darker tone to it than normal flesh almost as if they were poisoned. Sanguine rolled down the man's mouth as a breathless cough tore up the inside of his crushed windpipe. What little Aura the man had seemed to melt away as a blank look covered his eyes as his head fell. A slightly sad tone covered the Hunters voice for a second as he spoke to himself as he wiped away at the pale trails that ran down his face.
"Another soul to add to the pile. I hope you find peace in the world beyond. Umbasa."
To the shock of the frightened audience, Jaune walked to the corpse as he dove his fingers into the cracked skull of the man; his digits were writhing like worms as he dove farther into the skulls recesses before a squidgy pop came from the socket. Pale blue was wrenched from the cadavers head as the stringy optic nerve bounced slightly, before he tore it from its anchor. Its brother soon followed suit, before it disappeared into the endless pocket of Jaune's coat.
Again, he followed the glowing trail, until he reached the same cliff edge from his first initiation. Set as the centre of the platform was a small, silver statue of a Beowolf, just as he grabbed it, he was launched back into the woods as a bestial hand sent him flying with an unrelenting strength. Wood and dirt were flung through the air as Jaune's body collided with everything in its path, before bouncing slightly while it began to stop. The Burial Blade was barely in his sight as he saw its faint glimmering.
His body stumbled slightly as twigs, stones and shattered wood was being forced from his exposed flesh, with he himself having to rip the larger pieces from his body, the coat also was sowing itself up just as his skin was doing. The colossal beast that stood Infront of him matched that of the Cleric Beast, and yet, was different. Patches of its fur and skin was an inky black as it stared at him with feral red, bloodshot eyes. It seemed to be a combination of Grimm and Beast, making it a far more enticing hunt.
White stained his hair as pale blood leaked from his missing eye while strange tentacles emerged from his socket and tried to grasp at anything they could get, eventually grabbing one of the taken eyes as it was raised in front of them , converting it to match his other while phantasmas bulged and swam under its surface. The Hunter's teeth grew sharper as his hair became more ragged and thicker. With a single roar, the beast ran forward, intending to take as much as it could gain from the Hunter.