Before you read, keep in mind this a blending of RWBY and bloodborne. I am trying to bring in elements from a game with a very different set of rules for the world. So there will be a lot of differences from regular RWBY cannon, such as the Grimm not instantly turning to dust when killed, the Grimm of this story also bleed.

Please bear with me as this is my first RWBY fic.

Another note you will see terms like Grimm rot and if that sets off bells in your mind about seeing that term in something else you are right, Coeur Al'Aran was a big inspiration to write RWBY fics. This doesn't mean it will be anything like his writing (I am nowhere near good enough.)

On the note of the weird language you will see throughout the fic. That is R'lyehian in this fic the hunters primarily speak it, you will see it quite a bit. I will not provide a direct translation during the story. I will add translations at the end of each chapter, also it may not be correct if you use a translator, the meaning could be different than what I intended. Don't feel the need to translate the words as soon as you read it. And if you know the language better than I do, feel free to send me messages about resources I can get a hold of to use to improve my writing. I would really appreciate it.

That's all from me. Please enjoy

The last Hunter

Ahmgr'luh kadishtuor, Iiahe kadishtuor ymg' tharanak closer l' r'luhhor

This saying had been in the Arc family for generations, or at least that what Jaune Arc had been told by his father, Nicholas Arc. He had taken the saying to heart, devoting himself to his family's work. He had gone through all the brutal training without complaint, he did as ordered, questioned nothing. He was simply a tool, a hunter. He was a carrier of the old blood. As was everyone in the hidden city of Ansel. Today had started off wonderfully. His family had spent the day with him as he prepared to accept the gift from the original hunter of old. So how did everything go so wrong? It was a question he asked himself again and again. It was useless to keep asking. He wasn't going to get any answers and he would get no help from the people of Ansel.

Jaune opened his eyes for the thousandth time. He had done this song and dance countless times. He would wake up deep into the night in his room back home. He would hear a crash down stairs and then his world would fall apart all over again. Lavender Arc crashed through his door, her form a roiling mass of corruption and mutated flesh. Jaune closed his eyes for a brief moment.

"Ahornah n'ghftnah ymg' hafh Lavender." He said the quick prayer as his younger sister stood back up. He had long since grown numb to the image before him. The youngest of the Arcs consumed by the old blood. He studied the blood vessels that had mutated into swiping tentacles as they extended from his sisters gaping maw. Jaune grabbed his saw cleaver and sighed. The creature before him took it as a sign to attack evidently as it rushed forward. Jaune sidestepped and brought the cleaver down with tremendous force. He didn't slow as he heard the crunch of her skull, he had made that mistake once. Jaune flicked the handle of his weapon, extending it to its full length. Taking advantage of the momentary stun he swept out the monster's crooked feet. Jaune felt nothing as he hacked away at the monster once called Lavender Arc.

Jaune moved about his room with the practiced ease of having to relive the same night for eternity. He dressed himself in his hunting gear. It took him less than ten minutes to gather his things. He knew his objective, He had to reach the cathedral and kill the monster there and only then would the night end. Jaune caught a glimpse of metal as he stepped into his family's living room. Jaune felt a sting as he realized that he had passed this in all previous nights. He hefted Lavender's axe over his shoulder. He turned in time to see his neighbors crash through the windows.

"Ahornah n'ghftnah ymg' hafh." He had a long night before him. Lavender was always the easiest. The other Arc's were more advanced in their corruption, but he wouldn't stop until his entire family had been put to rest.

Jaune Let out a haggard breath as he rounded the corner, He knew what would be around the corner. Memories of Hazel flooded into his head. He gripped the handle of Lavender's axe tighter as he thought about all the early morning lessons his sister would sneak in for him. How much she pushed him to become a better fighter and hunter. Jaune stopped as he lifted his head to the sky. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the scents his enhanced smell could pick up. He could smell the rot infested bodies around him, he inhaled deeper, picking the scents apart from each other. The small variables on the street never stayed the same from night to night. He picked out seven distinct smells, each one was familiar and foreign at the same time. Jaune stepped into the open looking at the destruction before his eyes.

Hazel rampaged through the street, attacking anything that so much breathed in her vicinity. The once well worn dirt street had become stained a deep black he ignored the lifeless eyes staring up at him. He flicked his wrist extending the axe to its full length.

"Ahornah n'ghftnah ymg' hafh." He whispered the prayer for what felt like the millionth time. Jaune focused on Hazel herself. His once vibrant and over excited sister now stared back with soulless pits of black. The girl who he had once loomed over now towered over him. It was as if her body had tried to transform into an Ursa and failed halfway, the end result was a golem of torn flesh and jagged bones. Jaune spied Hazel's hammer discarded to the side of the monster. He let out a humorless laugh as he thought about the dumb nickname she had given it.

"I'm telling you Jaune, it's a boom hammer! It's the only name that even fits this thing." He blinked the memory away. Hazel let out a guttural roar before charging him. Jaune waited till the last possible moment to dodge the charge. Jaune slid underneath the monster's bulk, he hacked off a leg in the same motion. It was an old trick she herself had shown him. Jaune used the momentum he had gathered to send himself rolling out from the next strike. The monster let out a scream of agony, he ignored it even when he heard the tone shift to match his sister's voice. Jaune took out a bottle filled with a crimson liquid. He sloshed the blood cocktail around before hurling it at a nearby pile of corpses. Hazel skidded past him, slamming into the bodies and tearing away at them. She was so absorbed by the pungent smell of blood that the monster paid no mind as Jaune scaled up its back. Letting out his own guttural cry he hacked away at the monster.

Jaune was exhausted by the time he reached the center of Ansel. He had made sure to grab the boom hammer after putting Hazel to rest. The next hour consisted of him caving the skull of anything that moved. He stared at his next target. What had been Amber and Jade was now twisted amorphous shape of bodies and tendrils of grimm rot latching onto corpses adding to the mass in the center of town. Jaune was not stupid, he had died to this mass many times. He knew the moment his feet crossed the threshold of the town square countless tendrils would strike out. He had come prepared for it this time.

Jaune kicked over barrel after barrel from his perch atop a nearby roof. Each barrel was quickly snatched up by a tendril bringing it to its center mass. After repeating the process for half an hour using up almost all of the dust stores he had access to. Jaune raised his pistol to one of the barrels. He repeated his prayer before thanking his sisters for the very pistol he was about to put them to rest with. The resulting explosion sent Jaune to his knees clutching his ears as the screams of agony melded together to form an unholy chorus of the damned. The cries were deafening, Jaune gritted his teeth as he curled up into a ball.

Ozpin sat in the fiddled his cane as he looked at the message again. It was one he had never hoped to see. It had come from the current head of Ansel, Nicholas Arc directly. Ozpin sighed as he looked at the team with him. Glynda sat across from him calm as ever, Qrow sat off to the side drinking from his flask.

"Oz, care to tell us where we're going? There isn't much out here as is." Qrow spoke up once he noticed Ozpin's gaze.

"Quite the contrary. We are headed to one of the oldest cities around. It is Ansel, the unseen city. A home of hunters, not totally unlike our Huntsmen and Huntresses. Forgive me if I do not say much about it as it is not my place to divulge its secrets." Qrow simply shrugged. Glynda met his eyes. Ozpin simply shook his head.

"I would also like you to prepare for the absolute worst. This is a city that has fallen to Grimm… You will possibly see horrors that will scar you for the rest of your lives." A voice came to life over the speakers in the cabin.

"We are approaching the ETA ten minutes." Ozpin stood motioning for the others to do the same. They stepped into the cockpit of the Bullhead. Qrow let out a curse as he saw the sight before them, Glynda said nothing but could not hide the shock on her face. Ozpin looked on in sorrow. Ansel was burning, most of the buildings had caught fire. Ozpin's thoughts turned to a different matter. If what Nicholas had said were true, then everyone in Ansel should have fallen victim to the old blood within them. If that were the case then who had set the fire?

He didn't dismiss the idea of a survivor outright, it was certainly possible, however the chances were astronomically low. Ozpin didn't dare hope.

Jaune trudged forward, his legs had long since felt like they had cinder blocks tied to them. He had severely underestimated the potency and reactivity of the dust he had used. Ansel was burning, and it would get worse once the fires reached the armory. Even if he were to break the curse of the hunt it would be for nothing if he didn't make it out before the armory blew sky high. Jaune grimaced as he felt the stab wound in his side pulsate with white hot flashes of pain. The wound had been a parting gift from his sister Coral. She was always one of the hardest to face. No matter what he tried he had always found her blood drunk and on the verge of roting. She had always been the fastest of them all.

It was why she had been granted the blades of mercy and granted the job of hunting down blood drunk hunters and those that fell to their blood. Jaune was sure that n'ghftnah ot shuggog was laughing at Coral for her fate. The thought made his blood boil. Another flash of pain brought him back to his senses, he dropped to one knee inspecting the wound.

The black blood that oozed out of his wound made him wonder why he had ever been proud to carry the old blood within him. The entry and exit wounds were shredded to ribbons, had he been a normal man, he would have long since bled out or passed out from the pain. Jaune sighed knowing he would have to use one.

He fished out a blood vial from his pouch. He stabbed his thigh with the device, within seconds its effects washed over him. His vigor renewed and his wounds stitched together on their own. He ignored the urge to use more. He knew that if he gave in to the urges that it would be a fast way to end back up in the dream. He would end up just like Coral. Jaune stood and hoisted the bag over his shoulder. He had decided that none of the Arc weapons were being left behind.

Jaune doubled his pace, the fires were spreading at a steady rate, undeterred as it consumed anything in its path. Jaune raced through the streets. Any creature that so much as looked in his direction was sent straight to the afterlife. It felt like an eternity when he finally reached the cathedral. The top of the large building had already caught fire spreading to the structural supports and nearby trees. Jaune pushed past the double doors, preparing for a fight only to find that the cathedral had been abandoned. Jaune walked to the center of the building, he stopped as a strong wave of repulsion assailed him. His throat squeezed shut as the very air burned to breathe. A heavy miasma clung to the air, the scent of corruption palpable.

Jaune clamped down on his nerves, willing himself to stop shaking. He knew what awaited him next. He had gotten this far before and always died by Nicholas Arc's hands.

Nicholas Arc stood in the center of the cemetery surrounded by multiple bodies. Each one barely recognizable. The head of the Arc family slammed his Kirkhammer down onto the corpse of Juniper Arc again, again, again, and again. Jaune carefully set the bag off to the side. Jaune had spent close to an eternity thinking about how he would slay his father. None of the ideas involved any of the weapons he had gathered today. Jaune fished into his pocket as he turned to keep an eye on his father. Jaune stared down at the bloody napkin. He had thought about this time and time again. His father outclassed him in everything, he would be mangled and broken if he didn't go all out. Jaune unwrapped the cloth revealing the black writhing mass hidden underneath. Jaune knew that his time window would be short if not impossible, but he had to try. Jaune ingested the Grimm blood pellet without a second thought. Jaune fell to one knee as he clawed at his chest. His heart felt as if it had been dipped in magma and pushed this fire to every inch of his body. His muscles strained as he felt them forcibly expand. He didn't need to check to know that his veins had become black. Jaune held back any noise as he felt his canines elongate. Jaune let out a sigh as he stood. The pain had turned into a mixture of euphoria and raw anger.

Jaune stalked forward, he had long since given up on trying a stealth approach to his father. Nicholas always had a keen sense of smell and Jaune could smell his own clothes. He was drenched head to toe in the corrupted blood of his city.

"Jaune? No… Grimm all over the city… You'll be one of them, sooner or later..." Nicholas shrugged as he hefted his weapon over his shoulder. Jaune charged forward, Nicholas laughed as he dodged the first series of swings. Jaune twirled out of the way as the hammer slammed into the ground he had once stood. Jaune struck, catching his father's back, scoring a gash. Jaune realized it had been too shallow as he failed to dodge the boot driven into his sternum. The air rushed out of him at once as he crashed into a line of headstones. Jaune's eyes widened as he saw the hammer coming down ready to crush his skull. Jaune rolled out of the way and continued dodging as Nicholas changed the direction of each swing never once losing an ounce of power in each successive swing.

Jaune roared as he swung his saw cleaver, Nicholas simply stepped back out of reach. Jaune smirked as he activated the cleavers gears causing the blade to extend with force. Nicholas let out a choked cry as the brunt of the metal slammed into the older hunter's neck. Jaune pressed the small advantage created. Nicholas Arc danced, parried and defended as Jaune attacked any vita spots he could. Jaune spotted his chance.

Nicholas was in bliss, he couldn't ask for more as he danced with his son. They were surrounded by family after all, he could smell their blood, each member of the Arc family was in attendance. His heart swelled with pride as he watched Jaune perform a move that no one had taught him.

Jaune stomped his foot, trapping his father's scarf to the ground. Jaune roared as he scored slash after slash. Nicholas thrashed about but Jaune ignored the shallow strikes, there wasn't enough room for his father to fully swing the Kirkhammer. Jaune slashed away with reckless abandon.

"That smell. The sweet blood, ooh, it sings to me!" Jaune grunted as his father struck him across the face, the blow rattled his skull, Jaune didn't see the second one coming. Jaune staggered back. His father doubled over, the sounds of bones breaking and skin tearing could be heard. Jaune had never made it this far. Unsure of what was about to come at him he injected a fresh blood vial into his system. He knew it would cost him precious time but he had to take the chance, Nicholas was close to giving out he could feel it, he could taste it. Nicholas let out a primal roar as his body tore itself apart, Jaune drew his pistol as he stared at what had been his father, all that stared back was the biggest beowulf had ever seen. Jaune fired shot after shot as he maintained a distance from the beast. Just one slash would spell the end for him. Nicholas roared as he bounced around the cemetery dodging or tanking every hit that came his way. Jaune squeezed the trigger again and let out a curse as the hammer let out a dull ting instead of a concussive blast. The beast had been waiting for this moment Jaune realized late, His eyes snapped back to where it had been just a second ago. His sense of smile warned him too late. Jaune brought up his weapon in time to block the claws but not the full force of the kick. Jaune was sent hurtling through a tree. Jaune felt his leg before he saw it. The pain was nothing compared to the rage he felt. He tossed out three blood cocktails in random directions before taking out two blood vials and topping off. The beast stopped sitting on its haunches smelling the air.

Jaune stood and pulled out his already meager supply of dust infused bone marrow ash. He coated his last bullet in it, he would only have one shot at this or he would be sent back to the dream. Jaune rushed out of cover, Nicholas Arc rushed forward to intercept him. Jaune skidded to a stop just as the beast lunged. The beast was met with the bone crushing force of the Kirkhammer. Jaune pressed the advantage, before the beast could rise he slammed the weapon into its hind legs causing it to fall again. Jaune moved into point blank range. Nicholas opened his maw ready to tear him into two. Jaune held up his pistol

"Ahornah n'ghftnah ymg' hafh, gnaiih." Jaune pulled the trigger.

The Bullhead landed just outside of the walls of Ansel. Ozpin led the team as they rushed toward the gate.

"Contact!" Qrow had his sniper trained on the unknown figure as it exited the gates. Ozpin held his hand up as he stepped up to meet the figure. Glynda and Qrow flanked him ready to jump into action at any moment. Ozpin looked the hunter up and down. The figure was covered head to toe in blood. Ozpin's eyes lingered on the very familiar hammer the figure dragged along the floor. The figure doubled over and heaved until he vomited. Ozpin squashed the blood pellet as soon as he saw it exit.

"Those are the Arc's weapons you're carrying there. Would you care to tell me what happened?" Ozpin asked in a gentle tone, his eyes however held no such kindness in them.

"H' ah ya right l' cahff ah'n'ghaorr, Iiahe ya family mgepgotha." Ozpin's eyes widened as he stared down at the man in front of him.

"What language was that?" Qrow growled as he raised his weapon again. Ozpin placed a hand atop of it.

"Nicholas only had one son, are you Jaune Arc?" The boy pulled off his hat letting golden locks fall free, the ones not covered in blood and sweat at least. A carbon copy of Nicholas Arc when he had been seventeen stared back at Ozpin. "What happened?"

"I ingested the flesh of the original hunter.. And in turn I caught his attention, n'ghftnah ot shuggog incited the great hunt in order for me to prove my worthiness of having his flesh alongside his blood." Ozpin knelt down, and offered his hand to the boy. A large explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet. Jaune looked over his shoulder and murmured something that Ozpin couldn't catch. All of Ansel was on fire now. By this time tomorrow nothing would be left of the city.

"Come with us, your father sent for us." Jaune looked back to the man before him, not one bit convinced.

"If that's true, say Ansel's motto." Ozpin nodded in approval at the boy's caution.

"I hope you don't mind. I say it in a normal tongue, my hunter's tongue has grown rusty in my age." Jaune nodded and waited.

"Fear the old blood."

"ah'lloigshogg mgepog gn'th'bthnk." Jaune repeated in his native language. Only then did he accept the silver haired man's help.

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R'Lyehian translations:

ahmgr'luh kadishtuor, Iiahe kadishtuor ymg' tharanak closer l' r'luhhor = Seek knowledge, as knowledge brings you closer to god

Ahornah n'ghftnah ymg' hafh = May twilight help yours

n'ghftnah ot shuggog = Twilight of the world

Gnaiih = Father

H' ah ya right l' cahff ah'n'ghaorr, Iiahe ya family mgepgotha. = It is my right to these weapons as my family wished

ah'lloigshogg mgepog gn'th'bthnk = Fear the old blood.