"Oh come on!" Jaune groaned loudly when he sat foot back onto the balcony overlooking Old Yharnam. A familiar pang of irritation flared to life as he figured out he had just walked in one convoluted circle.
On one had he was glad that he didn't need to use a bold hunters mark, or break into any houses to get back around, given that he found himself in a dead end. On the other, the time wasted burned in him. He could have spent time hunting some beasts instead. Gotten better, or otherwise done something productive. Instead he had spent longer than he would admit shimming along the edges of houses in a mad gambit to not plumet to his death.
"No. Don't work yourself up over minor setbacks." Jaune breathed out. Taking a deep breath, holding it, before exhaling. Frustration melting out of him as he focused on what is important. "Remember, no time is wasted. I learned there is a locked door, and I know there is a ladder back up. That is not wasted. I can either find the lock or buy a lockpick set and try and work it out myself. Or I can just smash the lock."
Making his way up to the plaza he sat foot on the cobbled bridge. Looking around at the multiple thick smoke plumes that from burnt out pyres. Even if the wood was crumbling in the wind, smoke still rose. Making it hard to make much out of anything, not to mention how the smoke irritated his eyes and nose.
How the beasts could stand it, he would never know. But two beast-men came charging out at him from the smoke. Edging back up the bridge the beast-men snarled, smelling weakness and charging at him with even more viscousness than before.
Browns furrowing in resignation, he sidestepped the first changing beast. It's furred and clawed arm shredding nothing but air as the beast rammed into the fence. The saw spear tore over its back, tearing out chunks of flesh as it crashed into the face of the other beast. Kicking it's leg out from under it as it stumbled back from the blow, Jaune quickly brought the sharp spear tip through its heart. Bringing it out just in time to spear the leaping beast who had just torn itself out from the fence in the neck.
With a soft sigh he stepped over the corpses and onto the smoke covered plaza. Noting the hanged forms of both beast and men in the wilted trees. On instinct his saw-spear flew back, stabbing into the stomach of a beast that had tried ambushing him from behind. It's claws slammed into his back as he heaved, twisting around, and lifting the beast up by the spear in its stomach.
Spittle rained down at him as he ducked and weaved around it's mad swipes, taking more than he would like. Before he jagged the spear point out and thrusted it back into its chest. The beasts hot and disgusting breath washing over as the beast sank deeper and deeper on the spear.
Letting the carcass crash into the ground he tore his weapon out. Frowning slightly at how a screw had come lose, making the saw-spear blade rickety. Giving the mechanism a good whack to the side the sound stopped. But Jaune's frown stayed. "That's… not ideal."
Against his better judgement, he pressed on with the saw-spear. Carefully exploring the plaza, looking for any hidden beasts or other items of interest. A beast wearing a greying shawl threw herself at him. Coming through the smoke like an apparition. Sidestepping he activated the mechanism, the blade shooting out like a ballista. Lodging itself into a hanging corpse and making pungent blood explode out.
The beast growled in presumed victory, stepping forward fearlessly and barring her teeth at Jaune. Testing the weight of the stick in his hand, Jaune shrugged before dashing at the beast. Bringing his stick down with terrible might. Cracking the knee and bringing her down, before raining blow after blow on the beast's head until blood and brain matter was one indistinguishable mush wrapped in a soggy shawl.
Throwing the bloody stick away, Jaune wiped away some of the blood splatter on his face. The saw-spear had been good, but he didn't feel comfortable with investing blood shards to make the weapon viable. Maybe he could extend its durability if he were to take a more controlled and flowing sort of approach to fighting.
Like Pyrrha, she was like a never-ending crashing river, seamlessly charging in and out of combat, transforming her weapons like clockwork. Or Ren, who was agile and flexible, able to bend in ways he never could. Even more than able to give professional gymnast's a run for their money. Meanwhile he was proud that he could touch his toes, not to mention should he try doing the splits he was more likely to tear his hamstring than anything. Not to mention Nora who was a veritable force of nature, a whirlwind of energy and positivity.
Then there was Juane, just plain old ordinary Jaune. He didn't have the extensive training Pyrrha had. Neither did he have the sheer volume of experience that Nora and Ren had learned while on the road. He came fresh faced, with nothing but his ancestors sword and some armour he had scrapped together.
The only thing he really had going for him was his viciousness and his talent for sheer, unbridled violence. But if he were to clamp down on his two biggest strengths to get some extra milage out of a new weapon, he would go straight back to square one. A sacrifice he wasn't willing to make. Too much hung on the line, and it just wasn't in the cards.
Drawing his sword he felt a familiar confidence well up inside him. Like being welcomed home after a long day at work and a warm homecooked meal waiting for him. Doing some practice swings, Crocea Mors sang as it tore through the air. It was almost as if he could feel the sword rearing to go, a warmth searing trough him. In the blink of an eye the warmth was gone, but the feeling of safety lingered. The wrongness that had plagued him was gone as well.
Deciding to not mind it too much, instead asking Gehrman about it when the next chance came. Pocketing another blood stone shard, he stepped back to the main plaza. Following the staircases to another roof plaza.
"Is this the roof?" Jaune asked absentmindedly as he stood by the fence, looking between the gaps and seeing that the staircases were just a bridge to another roof. "Huh, the more you know I suppose. But building houses stacked on another like Lego doesn't sound like the sanest of architectural decisions."
Setting foot on the roof a beast-man roared and lunged at him, meeting a swift end as Crocea Mors lobed of his head. A feral scream tore through the air as a group of three beasts charged at him. Lunging at the closest, he pierced through it, allowing himself to take a blow before disembowelling the two last beasts with a single slice. Quickly putting them out of their misery after that.
"You are skilled, hunter." The lunatic's voice rang again. Tearing his eyes up from the glowing fireball in one of the beast's chests, he looked up at the clocktower. Where the lunatic stood dressed in ashen grey garb and a tricorne. Jaune couldn't make out what weapons he had on him, instead he stared slack jawed at the gatling gun by his side.
The lunatic paid him no mind, instead continuing his monologue. "Adept, merciless, half-cut with blood. As the best hunters are. Which is unfortunately why I must stop you. Such a shame as well, Yharnam needs good hunters now more than ever, especially hunters who is willing to give beasts proper rites. However I can't allow you to take a step further."
The gatling gun roared to life, a hail of bullets racing towards him. Heart in his throat he threw himself behind the nearest group of statues. Hoping they could serve as cover.
Eyes wildly darting around he tried finding a way out, not even able to hear himself think as the bullets slammed into the statues. Chipping them apart. Eyes landing on a banister he threw himself out into the open, vaulting over the stone fence before the hail of bullets could hit him.
Landing feet first onto a little walkway he dove under cover behind a stone pillar. Rolling into cover before making his way into the house. Not getting a moment of rest as another beast came charging at him.
Slipping between its legs he grabbed it's shawl and pulled it back. The beast stood rooted to the spot, before slowly turning to him with hellfire in her eyes. An ear-splitting roar rang out in the room, followed by deafening thunder as the beast got a mouthful of bullet. Not giving the monster a second to react he ran her trough with his sword. Grunting as he dragged the blade up with all his might.
A rain of blood and gore showering him as the beast's entire torso was split in two. Not minding the gore, Jaune gave himself a moment to rest, a second to catch his breath as he tried figuring a way out of the pickle he found himself in.
He didn't need to look out of the right archway to know that giving a man with a gatling gun clear view of him was a stupid idea. Unfortunately, the other side was a dead end, leading to an open balcony where he picked another blood stone shard from a corpse.
Stepping back into the room he was met with two beast-men, sniffing the air. Both laser focused on him the moment he stepped back into the room. The beast moved cautiously apart, one going right while the other hugged the left wall. Prowling towards him like two wolves on the hunt, inching closer and closer from each side. Until they lunged at him as one.
One was greeted by the sharp edge of Crocea Mors, a whine and gargle ringing out as the blade parted it's head from it's body. The other got a face full of shield, stunning it for a split second. Which was enough time for Jaune to pull out his sword and bring it down on it. Killing it and making two loud thuds ring out in the room.
Grabbing another half-full packet of antidotes, he stuck his head out. Hurriedly pulling back as a hail of bullets slammed into the spot he just had been.
"You don't have to do this. You can let me trough, we can go our separate ways when I get what I need." Jaune shouted out when the gunfire had died down. Trying to, hopefully, find another way to solve this.
"Ha! Have you gone mad with the blood? I know your kind, hunter. I am one myself." The lunatic shouted back, grisly voice ringing out. "Willing to do anything and everything to get ahead. You might not have lost yourself in the blood yet, but it's only a matter of time."
Spotting an opportunity when the man was talking, he charged out of cover, hurling over some clay pots before throwing himself to safety inside an archway. Looking back and seeing fire explode from the clay pots as bullets rained.
The moment he looked behind, another hail of bullets tore through the half-collapsed bridge before him.
"You are kind of a dick. You know that right?" Jaune called out angrily. Not at all pleased with having his only reasonable way over being destroyed. As of now he was a sitting duck, and a quick look behind him told him that the fire had gained ground. Tendrils of fire snaking towards him.
"Petty, cruel, cold, ruthless. The hunt has a way to bring even the noblest of hunters down to the level of beast's. Ludwing was not immune to this, neither am I. And neither will you." The mad man shouted back. A barrage of bullet's following his statement, having learned his lesson from earlier. The moment the barrage ended.
Jaune leapt.
Making it to the other side as a barrage of bullet's crashed into his back. Aura held and stretched as the bullet's slammed into him. Sending tremors through him, a lump of bloody spit leaving him as he dove to safety. A flock of fat carrion crows waddled towards him as he sought sanctuary from the gatling gun. Crocea Mors sang, and they were no more, blood leaking out of them like punctured blood bags.
Pocketing another blood stone shard, Jaune threw himself into a short spirt. Running into a decrepit room that could have been mistaken for a prayer room had it been cleaned in the last decades. But Jaune unfortunately wasn't the only one in the room.
A large beast turned towards him as he could hear two others getting up of to the side. Not wanting to be surrounded from two sides he chucked a molotov in the face of the large beast. Dashing to deal with the two smaller beast folk variants first. They fell like grass, not having even gotten completely off the floor when he charged at them.
Turning back to look at the large beast he wished he had just killed it instead. It lied flat on the ground, eyes popped from the heat as fire roared. It's fur was burning, it's fat was sizzling and popping. Yet that was nowhere as bad as the smell that filled the room. It was gut wrenching, causing him to gag as he hurriedly stepped past it. The beast was still alive, if barley, clinging to live as it was cooked alive. Taking a deep breath, he did what he had to. Ending the beasts suffering as gently as a slab of steel to the heart was.
Looking around the room he pocketed a Bloodtinge gemstone. Peeking out of the archway a vindictive smile etched itself on his face. He was close to the belltower now, inching closer to the bastard that saw it fit to drown him inn bullets.
Jaune wouldn't call himself cruel or sadistic, but he was only human. Having a mad man screaming at him while trying to drown him in bullets for doing his duty as a hunter incensed him. It wasn't like he was going around with a murder boner killing indiscriminately. It was a job, it was a duty, and he did his best to complete it, no matter how much he hated it. Not to mention he was forced into doing so by a dream he had no control over. If given the choice, he would never have sat foot in Yharnam to begin with.
If some random shmuck was going to belittle his resolve, his sacrifice, then it would end in blood. Even saints had their breaking point's, and he was closing in on his. There was only so much a man could take.
"But not yet." Jaune whispered to himself, taking a calming breath, and pushing past the inferno of anger that burned in his gut. Instead of letting the wildfire burn, he focused it. Taking deep breaths and getting his heart rate under control as he searched the corpse beside him. Fishing out another packet of antidotes, however this one was almost empty. A single tablet remaining.
"What happened? Some sort of plague? A failed quarantine?" He mussed, trying to pick together what had happened from the clues he had. A welcome break from the anger that burned inside him. From all the antidotes he had picked up, it was clear that some sort of sickness or plague had taken the old town. To the extent that it was quarantined before more drastic measures was taken to forget about it all together.
Yharnam wasn't the only one to ever do, as Jaune had read up on multiple accounts of kingdoms, cities and countries doing the same trough bygone ages.
By the fire damage and all the burning pyres, it's almost as if the ones in charge had taken the next step. Not content with just quarantine and forgetting about the plague, instead wanting to rid it from the world in a fiery inferno.
"Why? Why do this. Why protect the beasts?" Jaune asked as he rose, turning to where another hunter stood. Stone crunching under his feet as he stepped away from the crumbled staircase. A saw-spear and a pistol in his hands, dressed in a charred garb and a black hood which hid an aging face.
"You shouldn't be here hunter. Old Yharnam was sealed off for a reason. Leave us to our penance, and you will be spared. Should you press on, I can only promise death." The hunter said, voice a gruff rumbling, not to dissimilar to the heavy smokers back home. "However at least death will be swifter than whatever else Yharnam will do to you."
"You set the town on ablaze, didn't you." Jaune didn't ask as much as demand. Piercing eyes staring into the hunter, who didn't flinch. Only looking at him placidly, anger briefly flashing in his eyes before it was consumed by sorrow. The hunter glared at him and exhaled deeply, sorrow melting of him as his face was a mask of cold resolve.
"Yes. We did. The plague had spread out of control. The Ashen Blood couldn't be allowed to spread too Central Yharnam. The Church was doing nothing. So in the end we took it upon ourselves to cleanse the district. By any means necessary." The hunter spat, rolling his shoulders before lunging at Jaune.
Sidestepping the lunge, Crocea Mors parried the blade away. While the hunter was a far cry from the skill of his classmates, he had viciousness in spades. Moving with an intensity matching the beasts while a calm cruelty only man was capable of in his eyes.
"It is not like you have any moral high ground to speak of yourself." The hunter spat, fishing out a coarse paper from his pocket, sliding it over his weapon as it burst alite with orange flames. "We are all sons of bitches here. You could have read the seal and been on your merry way, leaving us to our lonesome. But noooo, you had to let your curiosity get the better of you. Needing answers like a thirsting man needs water. Butchering beasts, people who had once been good citizen of Yharnam like they were pebbles in your path."
"And you were doing anything!? The only thing you have done is let them suffer needlessly instead of giving them the rest they so rightly deserve." Jaune spat, also coating his sword in fire as he charged back into the fray. Giving himself a mental pat on the back for his investment into Endurance. A smile on his face as the hunter before him began to falter. Sidesteps becoming slopier, breathing growing more and more haggard while his blows lost their sharpness.
"You, weren't, there." The hunter spat as he charged at Jaune. Each swing of his saw-spear becoming more and more vicious as desperation slowly sat in. "You didn't see what pandemonium clung to everyone in Old Yharnam! It was anarchy in the streets. Mothers lining their children up to be hung if they as much as coughed. It was a powder keg of waiting to go off, taking the rest of Yharnam with it when it blowed. The Ashen Blood only served to make everything worse."
"So setting the Old Town on fire was your solution?" Jaune snarked as Crocea Mors crashed into the hunters hand. Cleaving deep into the wooden handle and separating multiple fingers. Not letting the hunter rest he kicked him in the chest, making him stumble backwards. Catching himself in the archway and lifting his pistol at Jaune with a vicious smile.
A loud bang echoed out in the prayer room, deafened by the roar of the gatling gun.
A flattened bullet bounced against the wooden floor, ringing loudly out in the silent room. The hunters face forevermore frozen in an expression of horrified realisation mixed with a deep soft smile. As if the hunter was glad, relieved that his nightmare was finally over.
"Aurora, my beautiful Aurora. Finally I can see you again." The hunter whispered softly as life left his eyes. A soft sigh escaped Jaune as he walked over, cringing at how he had been cut in two from the barrage of bullets. Kneeling down by the corpse he recited his chant after closing the hunters eyes for one final time.
As the silver glimmers were carried away by an invisible wind, Jaune turned to what few items returned. An old silver pendant that had clearly seen better days, a handful of bullets, some fire paper, multiple packets of antidotes, six powder flasks, and lastly a little notebook.
Reluctantly Jaune pocketed the items, instantly regretting his curiosity getting the better of him as he opened the locket. A happy couple smiled back. Jaune recognised the hunter he had just fought even if he looked a good decade or two younger. He was dressed in a shirt and beige vest, a leather waist apron over his pants as he smiled lovingly at the woman beside him that cradled her stomach. She was dressed in an old nurse uniform, consisting of a full dress with leg-o-mutton sleeves, and a brown apron that had once been white. She gave her husband a loving look while she cradled her stomach.
The picture of the happy couple stung harder than Jaune could explain.
"How many? How many families torn apart? How many spouses or husbands widowed? How can one single city produce so much suffering?" Jaune whispered hollowly as he sat down on the grimly pile of stones that had been the staircase up.
Against his better judgment he opened the leatherbound notebook. Most pages were unreadable, blood clogging them, or being just plain unreadable. But as Jaune read trough he regretted opening the notebook.
"July 5th. Aurora is pregnant, what a joyous occurrence for us. Long have we tried for a child, and finally our prayers and multiple tries have been answered. Alone I feel that I am not ready for fatherhood, but together I know we can overcome the challenges before us."
"August 18th. The Ashen Blood, they call it. A terrifying ailment, turning good men and women into bloodthirsty beasts. I had thought the hunters to be a thing of legend. I was wrong, and thankfully so. They are brave men and woman who brave the streets with nothing but the clothes on their back and makeshift weaponry. Ending the beasts before they can cause more harm. Hopefully they can put an end to this madness before it goes out of control."
"October 7th. Aurora has been honourably discharged from her work as a Nurse at the hospital in light of her advancing pregnancy. The director not wanting for a pregnant woman to be around the sick. A statement I agree with, but my wife is as stubborn as a mule. Her discharge has put a strain on our income, however that is a burden I will bear so my wife and our baby is safe."
"October 19th.The beasts are afraid of fire. Business is booming, however I wished it was not so. I have stopped making candles, creating torches, molotov's, and fire paper instead. Unrest have gripped the populous, we found James had hung himself. He was half transformed into a beast, so in a last act of defiance to the sickness he killed himself so he wouldn't cause any harm. A good man that James. Unfortunately most aren't as strong of will as him."
"October 25th. I was approached by a hunter today. They wanted to recruit me into their workshop. The Powder Keg's they call themselves. I was tempted, and rightfully so. But I couldn't in good conscience leave my pregnant wife and unborn child alone at home while I went around galivanting at night. He understood, giving me a pat on the shoulder and called me a good man. He also gave me the address of the workshop should I ever change my mind. It's down by the old docks, by the whaler's wharf."
"November 18th. Aurora was down with the flu. Just the tough of my darling turning into a beast sends the shivers through me. Honestly, I'm glad to have something as mundane as a flu to worry about. A moment away from the pandemonium caused by the Ashen Blood is a blessing I say. Especially with how the neighbourhood have turned on itself. Should anyone be suspected of being infected with the Ashen Blood they are rounded up on and hanged before they can turn."
"Oh by the blood how a fool I was. The reason Aurora recovered so quickly from the Ashen Blood wasn't because it was the flu. It was because she was pregnant. Our unborn child kept her safe on the cost of its health. I tough Aurora's increase in apatite was because she was eating for two. I was wrong. I walked in on my wife, our child bursting from her stomach before beginning to cannibalise her mother. And Aurora only smiled. A twisted smile filled with madness as she gave herself willingly to the beasts ravenous appetite."
"Today I joined the hunters. The day's having blurred together in an endless grey after I ended the life of my child with my own two hands. By some stroke of fortune I didn't have to kill Aurora, she was already dead. A blessing in disguise, as I would never be able to lay hand on her, no matter how deranged she had become."
"The hunt is growing worse. For every beast we slay, two others would take its place come next night. We are fighting a losing battle, and the people have taken to marching in the streets with torches and pitchforks. If anyone is suspected of being infected, they are either hanged or burned on the pyre. No quarters or mercy shown to even pregnant women and children. It's madness. Something must be done, or else Old Yharnam will eat itself alive."
"A plan has been made. Only damnation awaits us. However, to save our fair city no sacrifice is too much, no price to steep."
Only pages begging for forgiveness that gradually turned more and more illegible followed the last paragraph.
A heavy sigh escaped Jaune as he stood, feeling ten years older. He regretted opening the notebook. The hunter growing more and more desperate resonated with him in more ways than one.
Would he have done the same in the hunters situation?
Jaune didn't know, and neither did he ever want to find out. He could understand the hunter, he really could. But unfortunately that didn't stop him from doing what he had to.
The beasts had to die. They were suffering. Unfortunately the only cure was to put them to the sword. Jaune was not a needlessly cruel man, if given the choice he would not want to kill at all. But between letting them suffer more, and finally giving them peace. He knew what needed to be done.
The Powder Keg's might think that they were protecting the beasts, as they did no harm to the rest of Yharnam. But the beast were sick and suffering. Trapped withing a maze of never-ending bloodlust and bloody depravity. Letting them suffer needlessly were cruel.
Pushing his doubts away, he looked up from where the hunter had come from. Looking up the crumbled stairway he spotted a plank peeking through a shattered window. Sighing he mentally prepared himself to run through hail of gunfire and an army of beasts. Knowing that he wasn't acrobatic enough to make it up there. 'I really need to work on my acrobatics, I want to at least be able to scale a wall. It would make hunting all the easier if I could make my own routes.' Jaune mussed.
Standing in the shadow of the prayer room, where he knew he wouldn't be spotted, Jaune looked over the open area before him. Eyes mapping out routes for him to take to make it over to the other side without being hit by a sea of bullets. From the shadow he could see the gatling gun pointed at the archway. The grey-clothed hunter a visage of cold focus. Not as much as flinching when Jaune threw the beast patients shawl out of the archway.
Throwing himself into a sprint, Jaune raced out the archway, vaulting behind the tall flowerbeds that were rapidly pulverized by a volley of bullets. Waking an entire pack of beasts as he sprinted past them. Throwing himself against the wall, Jaune let out a sigh of relief. Knowing that he couldn't be shot at from this angle.
That however didn't stop the hunter from making his life miserable. A couple of molotovs crashing before him. Splattering fire everywhere and forcing him out of the corner if he didn't want to be cooked alive. The only solace he had was that the beasts weren't attacking him. But between being eaten alive, and being cocked alive, Jaune would rather die to the former over the later every day of the week. The beasts were quick and merciful, killing him quickly. Instead of the slow and painful torture being burned alive would offer.
Before the fire could get hold of him, Jaune launched himself through the fire. Slapping the closest beast out of the way before launching himself in a mad sprint back towards the prayer room. A barrage of bullets slamming into his back just as he made it inside. Letting out a breath he closed his eyes, feeling his remaining aura levels. A skill he had been forced to learn as he couldn't afford the time loss of looking up at his scroll. Not that his scroll even worked. Bluescreening all the time when he tried starting it.
"About 40% huh?" Jaune whispered to himself, turning to look at the army of blood hungry beasts that charged after him. "Then I just have to make it last."
Throwing himself at the first beast, Jaune ruthlessly allowed himself to take some claws to the side as he speared it's throat. More than willing to take some damage in exchange for permanently removing an enemy from the fight. A fair trade in his opinion.
When it came to fighting large groups, there were three rules he had figured out after much blood, anger and death. Never be surrounded, as that only spelled a quick death unless there was such a skill or strength difference that numbers didn't matter. And if possible, always remove an enemy. A wounded enemy can still hurt and attack you; a dead enemy can't do that on account that they were dead. So two percent of his aura in exchange for turning the group from twelve to eleven was a fair trade as far as he was concerned.
Not able to push the attack, lest he risk being in line of sigh of the gatling gun. Jaune allowed the pack of beasts to gain a bit of ground inside the prayer room. Instead he quickly fished out a fire paper and applied it to his sword. Face as if carved from stone as the blade caught fire.
The pack of beasts took on a cautious edge, stepping back from the flaming blade. Giving Jaune more than enough time to bring out his flamesprayer. He hadn't fortified it yet, as it was a weapon he was reluctant to use. Being burned alive was not pleasant. Feeling your blood boiling inside your veins, lungs burning from the inside out. Jaune didn't want anyone to feel such a torturous demise, even if they were bloodthirsty beasts. However, as eleven blood mad beast-folk tripped over another in an attempt to get to him first. Concepts such as pity, mercy, and kindness were thrown out of the window as he pulled the trigger of the flamesprayer.
A bellow of fire roared like dragons breath out in the prayer room. Beasts throwing themselves away as their greatest fear flew at them like hellfire. Clinging to their greasy fur, not going out no matter what they did. In a fit of fear induced madness a beast grabbed it's burning arm and ripped it of in desperation. Bellowing a roar as the fire enveloped it's other hand, spreading like a wildfire over its greasy fur.
As fire engulfed the beasts, Jaune added more and more to the pyre. Dashing around the beasts, gracing them with light and fast attacks. Fire quickly taking hold in their greasy fur and spreading panic and flame when the beasts crashed into another. As the beasts panicked, Jaune switched from quick and light, to lethal and devastating attacks. Using the panic to trim down the pack.
The third rule of fighting groups.
Chaos.
Cause it. Use it. Twenty focused individuals were a completely different beast compared to a group of thirty that was splitting at the seams.
Dashing around the fight he dodged and sidestepped the beast's desperate retaliation. Eleven was down to five, four as another beasts succumbed to the flames. Quickly four became three, then two, until finally only one last beast remained. Before it even knew what had happened, Crocea Mors pierced trough it's heart.
As it crashed lifelessly against the floor, Jaune calmed his panting breathing. Face a stone-cold visage as he looked over what carnage he had caused. The smell of burnt flesh permeating through the air as he took a minute to gather himself. Grabbing the first unrecognisable corpse he laid it on it's back, closing it's eyes and crossing its arms. Searching around his pockets he fished out two shining coins, gently laying them over its eyes.
Then he did the same for all other beasts, ignoring how small some were. Crossing their arms, closing their eyes and covering their eyes with two coins. As far as funeral rites were concerned, Jaune wished he could do more.
However he was only one man. One tired and weary man. He didn't have time to backtrack and lay every other beast to proper rest, neither could he do so with the wooden bridge torn apart. And Jaune didn't trust himself to make it over before being torn apart by the hunter's gatling gun. Neither would he be able to lay every beast he stumbled upon to rest. There were simply to many. Instead he would give those he could proper closure. Even if a part of him was doing this to show it to the Powder Kegs.
"By your sacrifice, I do what I must, as I take from you, I give in return. Granting you the peace you so rightly deserve."
Collapsing to his knees, Jaune panted heavily. Feeling like his soul was just hit with a hammer. Gritting his teeth and forcing himself up, he was met with twelve ghostly apparitions. Women dressed as nurses, some wrapped in bandages, others were cradling their children. The men were hale and healthy, smiling at him with thankful smiles. As one they bowed as one before disappearing like a mirage.
Gone before Jaune could even blink or properly understand what he was witnessing.
Standing back up with a groan, Jaune looked over the little pile of blood gems before him. It was dwarfed by packets of antidotes, and multiple blood vials. But blood shards and blood gems were always good to have. As it stood, he should have enough to fortify both Crocea Mors and Mortem Ignis to +3 fortifications, maybe even having some leftovers to fortify his flamesprayer once.
Having Isolde spirit them away to his cache, Jaune prepared himself for one last fight. Catching his breath as he planed out how to approach the tower. Jaune didn't have a good grasp of the hunter at the tower, but he knew something. If he was going to defend from a tower, he would bobby trap all the ways up to him to hell and back.
Flammable oil on the ladders, multiple ways to kick the ladder away, stones to roll down the ladder. All in all, how paranoid was the mad hunter? And how likely was he to turn his approach up to a literal kill-zone?
"That's a fool's errand." Jaune muttered, grabbing his ritual knife as a stupid idea wormed itself into his brain. Taking of his gloves he cut his finger and quickly drew his blood transmutation ritual. Laying his fire dust bullet in one of the circles, a quicksilver bullet in another, and an entire powder flask of bone marrow ash in the last.
Activating the ritual he spat out a glob of blood that was quickly absorbed as the individual components disappeared in a flash of bloody light. Inwardly glad that blood rites didn't take from whatever resource his funeral chant drew from. He had an idea what it took from, but it was baseless and would require some more work before he was confident enough in his theory. Not at all willing to half-ass that, especially now that he knew the side-effects of over-drawing from it.
Pushing familiar thoughts away, he looked at the pulsing crimson bullet in the centre. It looked like a standard dust bullet, expect that both the bullet and casting was pulsing and ominous crimson. It looked like a volcano waiting to erupt.
Grabbing the bullet he loaded it. Deciding to lean on caution he unloaded the other bullets. Not wanting to cause a worse explosion if the clearly unstable bullet misfired.
Mortem Ignis radiated an intense heat, impatiently waiting for the devastation to come.
"I have underestimated you hunter. For that you have my condolences. However you will go no further, I will not allow it." The mad hunter called out again. "You should have left when you still had the chance. None of this bloodshed would have happened if you didn't push on. Are you proud of what carnage you wrought to peaceful beasts? They were trapped in this prison Old Yharnam have become."
"I will not be lectured from a mad man from a literal ivory tower." Jaune snapped back. "You clearly have the means. If you really know what is best for the beasts, you would have cleansed the entire district. No one has been here since you. You've had more than enough time to go searching houses for survivors and beasts of the fire. That you haven't is proof enough that you don't care about the beasts. You care more about having your moral high ground than you do doing your duty. As a hunter and man both. The beasts are suffering. Letting their suffering go on is not only cruel, but also unjust."
"I will not be lectured about what is moral and what is just by a young upstart who have yet to grow some hair on his balls!" The hunter spat out with such venom that Jaune for a moment thought he was talking with Gehrman. "However it is time for this farce of ours to end. The next time you dream, I sincerely ask of you to give some thought to the hunt and its purpose. You are still young, do so lest you end up like me or Ludwig."
Peeking out of the archway Jaune blinked once, twice, before his heart reared in his throat as he threw himself with all his might away from the wall as a thunderous boom echoed out trough Old Yharnam.
Jaune didn't make it to safety before the entire prayer room collapsed in on itself. Thanking his lucky stars that he managed to throw himself under the collapsed staircase. Making himself as small as possible as large stones crashed through the floor. Causing a cascading effect of more and more of the floor falling apart, large gaps forming faster than he could blink as beasts howled in fear in the lower floors.
Knowing that he wouldn't allow himself to fall through the rapidly collapsing floor, Jaune gave a little prayer to whatever deity could bother listening. Throwing himself over the closest gap, jumping once more before throwing himself into a mad sprit out the archway. Stones falling behind him as the spinning sound of a gatling-gun awaited him.
Sliding out he aimed with his revolver up at the clock tower. Firing he bullet more as a last desperate attempt to salvage anyway for him to win, not trusting it to do anything against a literal eight-pounder cannon.
The sound of thunder echoed trough the streets of Old Yharnam again, as Mortem Ignis almost exploded in Jaune's hand. Throwing him backwards, right where the collapsing floor stopped. A look of awe on his face as the crimson bullet hit a bit right of the canon. Exploding in a violent eruption, spewing fire everywhere. In a display of almost inhuman dexterity the hunter grabbed a long rope and threw himself of the belltower, making it safely down just as the ammunition and everything volatile he had up there was set ablaze.
The bell tower spewed fire like a volcano as explosion's shock it. Blasting of large chunks of rocks and hurling them like comets straight into the air. Forcing himself up, Jaune looked eyes with the one-eyed hunter, seeing only ice-cold brutality and anger in them. Throwing himself to the side the hunter came crashing in, bringing his stake driver down at him with thunderous force.
A withered three bore the blow, exploding into splinters as the one-eyed hunter drove a stake deep into it. Effortlessly readying the weapon again as a flaming rock crashed down between them. Not wanting to give the old man a chance to attack, Jaune threw himself at him. Not at all willing to know what having a stake driven through him feels like.
The hunter elegantly sidestepping his lunge, rewarding his haste with a blunderbuss to the side. Taking a decent chip out of his rapidly depleting aura reserves. Hissing he reared back, taking of the hunters tricone as few silver strands of hair were caried away by the wind. Drawing his empty revolver the hunter's remaining eye shot wide open as he dashed to the side.
"You are one stubborn bastard." The one-eyed hunter hissed as he ducked out of a sword swing. Riposting with his blunderbuss and deliver another blow into Jaune's side. Biting back a retort Jaune brough his pistol up and slapped a tooth out from him. Crocea Mors hitting the blunderbuss barrel and sending it flying through the air.
"And you are raving mad." Jaune shot back, twirling his sword as he looked his opponent over. Frowning as he saw him pull out a molotov. Having learned the hard way that fire was more effective against his aura than a strong well-placed hit. A lot of constant damage would drain it in ways that attacks just couldn't.
"Mad? No, I am perfectly sane." He said calmly, as if they were two old friends talking over tea. "You, on the other hand, is the mad one. How else could you go along ceaselessly slaughtering beasts, knowing fully well that they had once been regular folk like you and me?"
"If you have convinced yourself that I do take pleasure of this, then you have lost your god damned mind." Jaune spat out, before feinting by charging in. Stopping and backpedalling on the last second as the hunter fell for it. Lobing a molotov at his feet while charging up the stake driver for another devastating attack. Adding some oil to the fire literally, Jaune lobbed an oil urn into the flames.
A deafening roar, rang out between them as the fire exploded upwards, creating a wall of fire between them. Trusting instincts honed in Yharnam through various hunts, Jaune brough down a powerful blow straight at the fire.
Catching the one-eyed hunter by surprise as he was cleaved in two as he came charging trough the fire.
With a final thud, the legend of Djura came to an end. Lower half catching fire as his last act was to turn and glare balefully at Jaune. Bending down, Jaune closed his eye. Not able to do much for his legs which the fire greedily was consuming.
"It shouldn't have to come to this." Jaune sighed, ignoring the cackling of the fire. Laying a shining coin over the hunter's remaining eye. Reciting his chant, Jaune almost buckled as he felt himself hurl. Dry heaving as his lungs were drowning while above water.
"I have misjudged you." A calm voice called out. Out from the burning pyre a younger form of the one-eyed hunter stood. A soft blue glow around him as he looked down at Jaune, two eyes twinkling with pity. "However do not fault yourself, this was destined to happen eventually. Cleansed of my madness I can see that. The church, the people, other hunters, even beasts. There would come a time before someone or something I couldn't slay would make themselves known to the district I guarded."
"Why?" Jaune spat, breaking out into a bad cough his lungs tried ejecting the water that wasn't there.
"Why indeed." Djura said to no one in particular. "For me, it was that I had lost faith in our duty. Nothing more, nothing less. I couldn't in good conscious hunt my fellow citizen. On that note, allow me to give you some advice, one hunter to another. You should get yourself a code, and when you do, follow that code like the most zealous of priests. And maybe, just maybe, you will come trough this ordeal with most of our sanity intact."
"But… Maybe you already have." Djura started as he looked down at Jaune with fathomless eyes. "Being kind in Yharnam is a curse. Hope, on the other hand leads to madness. And lad, I hate to be the one to break it to ya, but you are already beyond saving."
"Better have hope than whatever cynicism that drove you to become what you did." Jaune snarked as he got back up, the burning in his lungs easing ever so slightly. Ignoring the fading spectre he bent down and pocketed the man's badge, everything else had turned to silvery blue specs and been carried away by the wind.
"Then I can only wish you the best of luck in your endeavours." The one-eyed hunter whispered as he disappeared, a soft glow shining from Jaune as well.
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Note: Durability is a thing. It's not something Crocea Mors struggles much with due to what it is and how it is designed. But +2 and +3 areas require tougher weapons, not to mention +4,+5 and +n areas In its unfortified state the Saw-spears durability is eaten trough quickly, especially with how rough and violent Jaune is while fighting.
Note: Djura and the other powder keg hunter is the 'Bosses' of the Old Yharnam Area, they also offer a reflection of what Jaune can end up as should he fall into a 'For the Greater Good' mentality and not having the resolve to back up his actions. I'm not saying that Jaune will turn into Season 7&8 Ironwood or a Dumbledore, or Grindelwald for that matter. But just like with Iosefka, he will be forced to face other hard situations, and the consequences of the aforementioned actions. And should his resolve crumble, he can and will end up as the powder kegs. It's a warning and promise of what he can end up as.
Note: The power of the blood transmutation ritual is shown in full force. It will be the core for Jaune to get more 'unique' and varied tools on him.
