Jaune whimpered as he threw himself to the side as the Cleric Beast's elongated arm came smashing down. Quickly scampering away from the Beast in wild panic.

"EEEEEE!" A spine-chilling roar hit him like a truck as he did his best to dodge frenzied attacks. What little courage he had was roughly snuffed out as its arm smashed into his hastily readied shield as the beast came at him like some demented boxer.

Golden aura flashed as he did his best to withstand the blow. Blue eyes widening when he felt himself loosing contract with the ground. Terror setting in when he felt himself lurch backwards, boots smashing into the railing of the bridge as Jaune was sent flying into the gaping emptiness that separated Cathedral Ward and Central Yharnam.

It was as if time stood still for Jaune. Hopelessly staring into the beady black eyes of the Cleric Beast who shone with cruelty as a twisted snarl split it's beastly maw. A twisted attempt at a smile that only seemed to taunt him further as gravity took hold. Dragging Jaune down into the tall depths, into towering spiers, slanted roofs, and the depths below.

"Uhg- Oh!-Uff-AH!-URK!" Aura flashed weakly once, twice before breaking. Just as Jaune crashed neck first into a large bell. Tolling his death with a haunting chime that echoed trough Lower Yharnam.

"Fuck that hurt." Jaune whispered as he came to at the closest lamp. Stretching out the kinks in his back as he looked towards the end of the bridge. Where the monster was gone. It was like it had just been a figment of his dream. Had this been any other place than Yharnam he would have chuckled it of as a weird hallucination.

But Jaune knew better than that now. He had long since learned that time was weird in Yharnam. The entire place was weird, anyone he killed came back to life should he die or return to the dream. It was a lot like a time loop, or timeline jump. The entire city of Yharnam 'resetting' slightly. Some things were constant, like what fickle bonds he had made with some locals.

The dead came back to life when being killed, what was destroyed became pristine, blood splatter and sword marks in furniture and walls were cleaned. Everything was back to how it was or was supposed to be.

Only exception being the ones he met. Gilbert remembers, and if he did, then Iosefka properly did as well. "Man, I should go say hi to her. Her advice really was priceless." Jaune muttered to himself as he fished out a familiar vial of orange, almost golden blood. A stark difference to the deep sanguine red that most vials carried.

If he would have died over twenty times had in not been for his aura, then the number would have doubled if it hadn't been for blood vials and the healing property of the blood they carried. The taste left much to be desired, but when your guts were spilling out, that fell to the side. "But why did everything in Yharnam have to be about blood? Why couldn't it be candy? Maybe booze? Why blood?"

His ranting drew the attention of a large brick troll and a trio of carrion crows. Reluctantly Jaune drew Crocea Mors and readied himself. Shifting his sheath into a shield as he dashed and bashed into the troll's guard, delivering a deep cut, splattering blood all over his attire before tearing Crocea Mors out. Making its intestines spill out like hotdogs on a string.

The smell of blood sent the carrion crows into a mad frenzy as they blitzed the poor troll. Furiously pecking at its intestines and wound to bring out more of the juicy red liquid they loved.

As Yharnam's loving inhabitants were tearing themselves to shred, Jaune calmly turned his shield back into a sheath as he drew his pistol. Making sure to grab another three cartridges.

"Fire, breach, load, cock, fire, breach, load, cock." Jaune muttered to himself like a mantra as he followed the steps. Aiming at the carrion crow who gorged itself on the troll's spleen. Its head exploded in blood and gore as the bullet struck true. Startling its friend as it looked towards Jaune, earning a bullet to the beak for its troubles.

As Jaune readied a third bullet, the troll decided to rid itself of the crow aggressively poking for its eye by bringing up the giant brick it was holding and repeatedly smashing it into his face. Blood splattering with each hit as the crows head turned into goop, seemingly enraging the troll even further. In the end the troll scatted its own grey matter all over the bridge with such strength and force that Jaune didn't know where the troll began, and the crow ended.

His stomach lurched but was held down by sheer grit. He had seen a lot, experienced more horrors than he would have liked. But noting prepared him for the troll brain and crow goop soup that lied splattered over the great bridge.

Reluctantly cleaning his blade with a blood-stained cloth as he glared at the end of the bridge. Not wanting to walk into the loving arms of certain death, but also seeing no other alternative. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't." For what was a hunter that didn't hunt? What would he amount to if he faltered before even stepping up to the challenge?

"At least its only two more deaths to go tonight." Jaune whispered to himself in a failed attempt to psyche himself up.

Bad luck, reluctance, momentary stupidity, false bravado, and a string of bad decisions had made him die time and time again in the same area. 'It's Yharnam Jaune, you should have known something was wrong the second you saw those dogs.' He didn't like dogs anymore. Not after being torn apart and eaten alive multiple times. The only thing he learn was that having your organs eaten didn't hurt as much as the 'cut/torn open' part and that he had a hard limit of three deaths each night.

Why? Jaune didn't know, and neither was he planning to look a gift horse in the mouth. And neither was he willing to see if the dream would be as forgiving if he were to literally leap to his death tree times in a twisted attempt to leave the night early.

Sighing, Jaune readied his shield and made his way down the bridge. Spurred on by nothing more than a willingness to not test Gehrman's pettiness and a smudge of courage. Even if the most prevalent emotion was a twisted calm. Jaune knew he would die. He would die again and again. But thanks' to the dream he knew he would eventually come out the victor. He just had do die a couple times against the beast.

"EEEEEE!" A spine-chilling roar greeting him as he Cleric Beast leapt out from its hiding place. Bellowing out a roar with all its might it started to make its way towards him. Beady eyes locked at him with twisted bloodlust.

The beast came charging towards him with reckless abandon, using its large arm as a crutch as it's shorter arm swiped towards him with terrifying speed. Jaune quickly raised his shield to parry the arm away, creating a split opening. An opening he used to bring Crocea Mors up and thrust towards its elongated midsection.

Like always Crocea Mors struck true, even if it didn't pierce nearly as deep as he would have wished. Quickly pulling his sword out he sidesteps to the side as its arm came back swinging. Barley missing as he manages to step out at the last second. Shivering as he almost felt the nails of the beast tear into the back of his head.

Bringing his shield back up he readied his well-practiced 3 step combo of block, bash, strike. As the beast prepared another swipe with its arm, Jaune prepared to block it as he had blocked everything he had faced right now. Eyes widening in surprise when he saw the beast's other arm racing towards him.

In a fraction of a second, well-honed instincts kicked in as Jaune abandoned defence completely. Throwing himself between the beasts legs as slashed and smashed into its ankles. Heart hammering in his ears as the beast collapsed forward. The head of the beast snapped towards him with unbridled furry in its eyes, and what budding hope Jaune had for this to be a simple fight was ruthlessly squished as the beast powered through its trifling wounds.

In a split second the beast came charging at him with a speed and grace that was unbelonging to a monster of that size. Raining blows upon blow that fell upon his shield like a never-ending avalanche. Panting and wheezing Jaune peaked out from his shield only to eat a giant fist to the face.

Almost shattering his aura in a single hit as he saw stars. Noticing to late how the beast brought its arm like a hammer. Smashing him into the bridge and doing its best to bury him into the hard and unforgiving stone. Bone's shattering as aura broke and he was nothing, but meat paste from the waist down. Tears welled up in Jaune's eyes as he hastily fished out a blood vial, downed it, and rolled forward.

Stepping up on shaking legs as he blinked away any stray tears. Gritting his teeth, Jaune flicked his shield back into its sheath form and pulled his pistol. He wasn't expecting it to do much, but a gunshot here and there would eventually help him whittle the beast down, right?

"Round 2. Eh, big guy?" Jaune muttered with more confidence than he felt as he stepped forward. Ready to hurt the beast before he was brough down.

#####

Breakfast came early for team JNRP, who in an action of team solidarity had all chosen to wake up early to train together with Jaune as he started on his regime.

So 7.00 am at a Saturday, the team sat and ate in relative silence.

Even if Nora was the one who struggled the most with getting up so early in the morning. Jaune had long since gotten used to early mornings due to his youngest sisters, Ren was a morning person and had no problem with getting up early. And Pyrrha, while she loved sleeping in, was a champion fighter.

You didn't become a four-time untouched champion without putting in the effort. Talent would only take you so far after all.

"Any interesting dreams Jaune?" Ren asked as he sat down on the table, drinking his personal healthy green goop from a large glass. While Jaune hadn't fully shared what his semblance was, both Pyrrha and Ren had agreed to try and keep his spirit up now that they knew where his nightmares stemmed from. Helping him shine some light on the situation he found himself in.

"No, much the same." Jaune said as he fought through a yawn that threatened to spill out. "I even think I'm starting to get somewhat used to my nightmares. For good or ill. But there… there is one thing…"

Looking at his friends he spotted the badly hidden worry in their eyes. Wondering what cruel and twisted death he had experienced now. Not at all prepared for the words that spilled out of his mouth.

"I think… I think I might have lost my anal virginity to my own femur." Jaune said casually as he continued to eat his porridge. Not at all caring for his teammates mental well-being he continued. Opening his mouth, only to be rudely silenced by Nora as she threw herself over the table and clamped his mouth shut.

"No, no nothing. Not at the table." Nora pleaded with bloodshot eyes. Feeling sick to her core as the images seemed to sear themselves into her mind.

"I don't think those words are supposed to be said in the same sentence." Ren croaked, looking as green as his healthy green goop.

"Are… are you ok Jaune?" Pyrrha asked carefully as she looked at her partner. Shivering slightly as she forced the gruesome image away. Just because she was Mistralian, where they had a culture of interesting reading material. Didn't that mean she could ever have prepared herself for Jaune and the words that fell out of his mouth.

Nora shot Jaune a harsh glare that promised pain should he say something that would upset her stomach further. "Yes? No? I'm not sure really. I'm doing better, I'm getting used to it, even if I don't like it. Mentally I would say I'm doing better, not so much emotionally." Jaune eventually settled on as he took another spoon full of porridge.

"But…it's just… I've had worse? Thing's stop hurting when everything from your waist down is meat paste. Instead it's just this never-ending haze of agony instead." Jaune shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring how green in the face his teammates got. "And… it didn't really hurt? If that makes sense? It was more 'Wow, my femur is next to my heart.', 'This is really fucked up.'. Not even in my top three worst deaths, but certainly holding the crown of most bizarre feeling in my entire life."

"How do you get used to it?" Pyrrha carefully asked as looked down at her breakfast. Having lost her appetite long ago but shovelling food down by pure disincline instead. Jaune shrugged as he finished up his porridge. "How do you get used to your fame? Or periods for that matter. At one point it just… stopped being scary, being just another part of my already twisted semblance."

"At least that's a silver lining, even if it really can't be called it." Ren said as he downed the rest of his green goop in one chug. Right on time as both Pyrrha and Nora finished their breakfast. Even if Nora still looked a tad bit green. "Ready to get started at your regime?"

"No, not the slightest. But I will do my best." Jaune said resolutely as he and the team got up. Earning a thumbs up from Ren and an energetic smile from Nora. "Well then, what are we wating for? Let's go break some legs."

"Dying isn't as painful as this." Jaune rasped as he forced himself through the last of his push-ups. Driven on by sheer spine and determination to see his last set trough. Arms shaking he performed one last push-up before collapsing in relief as he had completed his last set.

"Don't be such a baby." Nora said nonchalantly as she blazed trough her last push ups. Before quickly starting on another set of burpees.

"Yes, but dying is a lot like falling asleep or a comfortable hug. One or the other at least. Now? Muscles I didn't know I had are burning." Jaune groaned out as he sat up and looked at the bookable gym/arena setup. One of the many that was in Beacon together with official open gym's, study halls, rooms for group work or leisure rooms.

"So anyone up for some sparring?" Pyrrha asked. Completely ignoring the little titbit Jaune shared. Instead bouncing from foot to foot in excitement as she looked them over. Ignoring the three deadpan stares her friends sent her, too caught up in her own excitement.

It had only taken a single combat class for the entire year to learn why Pyrrha earned the title 'Invincible Girl', for while she may despise the title. It held true. Having downright schooled every opponent she had been up against.

"I'm up for it when my arm's stop shaking." Jaune sighed as he got up and winched as he stepped towards the benches where their weapons lay. Quickly grabbing Crocea Mors and strapping it on. "I'll do my best but please tell me if there is something shockingly obvious that I should work on."

Stepping into the ring, he ignored how tired he was. Something he had learned in Yharnam. The battle wasn't over until he or all opponents were dead. If you couldn't push through tiredness to continue fighting, then Yharnam would chew you up and spit you out.

"Not using your shield?" Pyrrha asked as she got into a stance. Milo out on the ready with Akoúo ready to strike out at any second.

"No, the monster I'm facing now makes it almost irrelevant." Jaune chuckled weakly as he readied himself. Falling into what stance he felt was most natural, a stance he had developed in Yharnam. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't the epitome of swordsmanship. Right foot behind his left at a slight angle, bent knees. Empty left hand forward to either grab or parry and sword gently resting in his right. Ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"Let me count you in." Ren said as Jaune shook his head. "No, the fight starts the second both enter the arena. Grimm, or other monsters won't wait on a countdown."

Looking at Pyrrha, she gave a slight nod as radiant smile split her face. The second Jaune set foot in the ring she charged at him. Coming at him with a solid thrust. Gliding over the arena and reaching Jaune before he could blink. Blindly sidestepping as he dodged a barrage of follow up thrusts and slashes as Pyrrha seamlessly changed between Milo's javelin and xiphos form.

Jaune did his best to parry any oncoming attacks, but they flew though his guard like it wasn't there. Only managing to dodge some attacks as he did his best to dance around her, feet moving to well-practiced steps. Trying an attack of his own when he spotted an opening. Trying his best to punish them but coming up short as Pyrrha seamlessly dodged or parried all of his attacks.

A moment of inattention where he raised his sword to parry an attack was all it took before Pyrrha quickly pulled back her thrust and seamlessly moved under his sword and struck him in the chest. Making Jaune's eyes widen in panic as his legs tangled together. Crashing into the arena floor with a thud as Crocea Mors clanged against the ground.

"I yield." Jaune sighed as he took Pyrrha's outstretched hand with a smile and was pulled up. Wincing slightly as it felt like walking on pins and needles. "Can't feel my legs."

"It's the first day of your regime, are you sure you should be pushing yourself so hard?" Ren asked as he grabbed StormFlower and stepped into the ring, parrying Nora's Magnhild. Almost like he had eyes in the back of his head as he dashed back and around his childhood friend. Taking some pot shots while dashing in to perform some quick slashes before dashing back out.

"Guess I just got caught up in the heat of the moment." Jaune chuckled self-deprecating as he idly scratched his neck nervously. Turning to his partner and friend Pyrrha who had sat down beside him. "How bad was I?" Cringing as he asked.

"You aren't downright terrible, if that's what you are asking." Pyrrha smiled as Jaune felt himself take a breath of relief. "You have good battle sense, better than most competitive fighters. Knowing when to push, when to retreat, what attacks you can take and when to dodge."

"All things that cannot be taught." Jaune whispered to himself. Feeling Gehrman's eyes radiating smugness bore into him from nowhere. "In essence, yes. But your technique needs a lot of work for you to take full advantage of it." Pyrrha nodded as she looked at him with a smile.

"Your footwork is either solid or extremely sporadic. Your stance is loose at the best of times, non-existent at others. It's clear to see it's a stance built from and shaped by experience, however that will only take you so far." Jaune flinched as Pyrrha continued to tear into him good naturally. "It's like your fighting style is built up by a thousand little things. It's like a castle of sand, nice to look at but it crumbles at the slightest hint of proper resistance."

Jaune didn't know if he should be proud or horrified at how his partner tore into his mishmashes fighting style with surgical precision. Bringing out flaws he didn't even know he had. 'But when your entire fighting style is made from flaws, it doesn't come as a surprise.' He mussed to himself as he nodded along as Pyrrha continued.

"Have you learned to dance?" Pyrrha asked, making Jaune shake himself out of his thoughts and look at her. Slowly nodding. "Yes, I have learned some classical dancing, if that's what you are asking. One of my sisters needed a dancing partner but didn't feel comfortable with some of the guys at the Ansel dance loft, so I stepped up. Think I learned waltz, ballet and tango. Why the sudden interests?"

"I noticed how you seem to use dance steps as the basis of your footwork, but when you get pressured, you start to throw yourself around instead." Pyrrha lectured with a small smile. Not sounding demeaning or demanding in any way or form. "It's a lot like going right and left at the same time. It doesn't work. Now, this isn't something I would recommend to anyone. Had you been anyone else I would have asked you to run through basic drills first and foremost. But because of your 'dream', or semblance, you said you fight and die again and again."

To that Jaune nodded, having given his team the briefest of briefest introductions to his semblance. He fought, he died, he fought again. Having long since learned when to tell the whole truth and when to tell half-truths. Not at all willing to have his team worry more than necessary. "Yes, I'll tell you more later, I promise. You all deserve to know. It's just… not now. I don't know where my semblance begins or where it ends, and I don't want to say something that's just not true."

Pyrrha smiled sweetly as she nodded in understanding. "But since your semblance is what it is, you won't have much use of traditional training. You won't have time to build a proper foundation before your experience starts colouring it, making it almost null and void. Even if it would do you some good to learn the basics, if only to use them as a reference. Instead you should have some 'core' building blocks, or ideas and build from there. A good offense, dance steps, 'tanking' as video games so eloquently put it. Just go wild and try to have fun and create something that feels natural. After all, you have the freedom to freely experiment with what kind of fighting style you want."

"Huh." Jaune eloquently answered as he looked at his partner. "I can do that; I think I already have some ideas for what to do." Fishing up his notebook and pen he opened to a blank page. Quickly writing down Footwork. before circling them with question marks. Together with Offense and a crude drawing of Crocea Mors. "What is it best to build a fighting style around? A weapon, shield, a philosophy? Maybe footwork?"

"That depends. This is your fighting style after all. What do you want to build it around?" Pyrrha asked with a good-natured chuckle as Jaune did his best not to pout at her. "But think of it like building blocks if that makes any sense. Weiss built hers around dust usage and her glyphs. Ruby's fighting style is tailored to and around Crescent Rose. Yang has a love for fighting, something that is colouring her fighting style. Nora's fighting style fit's her personality to a tee, with quick bursts of energy that keeps coming relentlessly."

"So don't get caught up in schematics." Jaune nodded as he turned back to his notebook. Resting the tip of his pen on the paper as his mind came up completely blank. With a sigh he put down pen and notebook and grabbed Crocea Mors instead. Turning to his partner with a light smile. "Think you can go easy on me this time? I have some ideas I want to try."

"I would love to." Pyrrha smiled back as she gripped Milo and Akoúo. "Same rules as last time?"

"Unless you want to add some of you own, then yes." Jaune said with a smile as he stepped onto the arena with a smile.

####

Waking up on the great bridge of Yharnam, Jaune took one look towards where the great beast hid on the other side before walking away. Looking over his shoulder one last time as resolve shone in his eyes. "I'm coming back for you, mark my words."

The cleric beast would serve as a final test for his fighting style or a benchmark when he felt more confident. As Jaune had decided to heed Pyrrha's advice and create a style of his own instead of charging mindlessly at a wall that was the Cleric Beast again and again until the wall eventually broke. Choosing to spare himself an untold amount of death and pain.

Plopping down on the stone stairs up to the bridge Jaune fished out his pen and notebook. Was it stupid to do this in Yharnam? Undoubtedly. But Jaune was too excited over trying to craft his own personal fighting style. A smile splitting his face he wrote down some hard requirements.

"1. Dodging and/or parrying together with counterattacks is paramount. Followed by a fluid movement and solid footwork at Nr.2. A solid offense with defensive capabilities, and adaptability will serve as Nr.3 and 4." Jaune muttered to himself as he spoke his ideas to himself. Tasting them and nodding to himself, knowing full well that he couldn't play the knight anymore. Something the Cleric Beast had so kindly shown him when it grabbed his shield and proceeded to ragdoll him around.

Jaune nodded as he looked at his 'rules'. They would do for now, and he might add or remove some rules as his style started to properly come together. For now they served to act as guidelines. Giving him a direction to work in, no matter how vague.

Looking down at his notebook he quickly drew the outline of himself, Crocea Mors in hand. Quickly circling two things. His legs and Crocea Mors, it had been with him so far. He wasn't going to discard it just because something shinier came along. Not to mention how he looked forward to fortifying Crocea Mors, he had some blood stone shards after all.

"Ok, footwork and Crocea Mors, anything else?" He asked as he came up blank. Furiously trying to come up with something, he eventually sighed and pocketed both notebook and pen as he grabbed Crocea Mors. Resolutely stepping onto the streets of Yharnam, hating himself for what he was about to do. Even if he had become good at it after massacring his nth mob of deranged mad men.

Aimlessly walking the streets it didn't take long before he met the nights first mob of mad men. They took one look at him before the familiar bloodlust and madness appeared in their eyes. Looking at him like he was but prey to be hunted and slaughtered.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here lads? A little beasty that is walking the streets of Yharnam alone?" The leader said as he gave a toothy smile, showing a maw full of half rotten teeth and sickly gums.

As he walked towards them his footsteps fell into old and well-practiced steps. Effortlessly falling into the rhythm of a slow waltz he raised Crocea Mors and dove into the mob of nine angry and deranged men. Stepping around sickles and cleavers as the mad men hit their compatriots instead as Crocea Mors did its work.

Biting deep and cleaving long gashes upon the mad men. Cutting the necks of some while piercing into the chest of others. Sidestepping to the side he twirled around a charging mad man, coming around his back cleaving Crocea Mors into his back. Knocking him into the paved road, groaning as Jaune saw bone peeking out from his bleeding back. Before a bloodied boot came down like thunder on the back of his neck. He made no more sound after that.

Once he would have felt guilty for what he did. Now only a deep melancholic remorse permeated his entire being. He took no joy in what he was doing, nor in how effortlessly it took for him to dispatch an entire mob. Leaving only bleeding corpses on the harsh cobbled stone roads of Yharnam.

"I hate this." Jaune whispered to himself as he cleaned Crocea Mors while he went over the entire fight in his mind, ignoring how his rune lightly heated up as it gathered and held new blood echoes. Wincing at all the times he had almost tripped over himself or been tripped. Blood and rain made for a slippery combination, not to mention kicking feet, the mad scrambling of the mad men and mistakes on his part.

Quickly fishing out his notebook and writing down his ideas, thoughts and some mistakes he ran into. Pocketing it as he walked into another, even larger mob at sixteen mad men strong. Blue eyes looked at them as he gulped.

A single mad man wasn't terrifying, and everything under ten was manageable. It was when their numbers started closing in on twenty that the mobs became terrifying. There was a strength in numbers after all. For each extra mad man in the mob it was almost as the mob itself became hungrier and more ravenous. Turning them into hungry beasts in human skin.

It wasn't the first mob of this size he had faced. Having come face to face with a larger one before. He did not have found memories of being subdued before being crucified and burned. Gripping Crocea Mors he made his way towards the mob. "Just take it step by step Jaune. Step by step." He whispered to himself as the first mad men came storming at him.

Stepping to the side to dodge the cleaver before piercing his throat with Crocea Mors. Ripping the head from the body as he tore Crocea Mors out as he sidestepped a thrusting pitchfork. Grabbing the wooden handle and pulling. Making the mad man stumble forward and straight into his sword. That was as far as he got to thinning out the mob before fourteen angry and crazed mad men charged towards him. Bellowing out with all their might.

Blue eyes widening Jaune did his best to brace for the coming storm of steel and flesh. Raising his aura as he rushed towards them. Choosing to meet violence with violence. Dancing around attacks while delivering some terrifying blows of his own. Aura flashing as sickles, cleavers and makeshift swords clanged against him. As Jaune cleaved through what felt like the hundredth man, his eyes widened as he felt his aura shatter.

Not even gaining a second to reach before weapons bit into him. Before he could register what happened he woke up back at the great bridge lamp. Shaking his grogginess away Jaune slapped himself. "Don't go charging into large mobs of mad men with only a semblance of a fighting style. You should know better than this now Jaune."

Looking at the lamp he let out a hallow self-deprecating laugh. Having completely forgotten Gehrman and what insight he could offer in his excitement to create a style he could call his own. "Ok, see if I can get my echoes back, then return to ask Gehrman for some advice."

Nodding to himself Jaune hurriedly made his way back to where he last died. Only having to take care of the rare stray mad man instead of the large mobs he met last time. Why the dream was inconsistent like that was another thing he didn't know. But he would take it as it was as he picked up his blood echoes. Hastily making his way over to the lamp outside Gilbert. And in a blink, he found himself back in the dream and before the workshop.

"Welcome back, kind hunter." A soft gentle voice called out, soft and melodious. And completely different to what he was used to.

Crocea Mors flew out as Jaune turned to the suddenly awake and living doll with horror written all over his face. Eyes flashing to the doll's 'usual' resting spot against the foundation, next to the walls. Only finding nothing there. Shaking Jaune slowly turned to the doll who only laughed gently at his display.

"Greetings, kind hunter. I am a doll, here in this dream to look after you. Honourable hunter, pursue the echoes of blood and I will channel them into your strength. You will hunt beasts, and I will be here for you to embolden your sickly spirit." The doll said gently as she bowed towards Jaune.

Jaune cautiously looked at her as realisation washed over him, having long wondered what blood echoes was all about or how to use them to something more than just bartering with the bath messengers. Eyes flicked to his gloved hand where his birth mark rune was. Having learnt a little trick to make his stats appear before him like he saw his blood echoes. Something that surprisingly helped his mental well-being as seeing bloody letters in windows and mirrors was grating him more than he liked.

Name: Jaune 'of' Arc

Level: 17

Blood Echoes: 666

Insight:1

Vitality: 20

Endurance: 13

Strength: 18

Skill: 6

Bloodtinge: 8

Arcane: 2

Looking at his stats in surprise he couldn't help but wonder what made them change as he smiled at the increased values. His endurance had increased a point, while skill had increased by two. And Bloodtinge having downright doubled, going from four to eight. 'Maybe my blood delve into basic blood rites is paying dividends?'

He had felt his aim getting surer but had chalked it up to experience and familiarity with his pistol. Still far from comfortable with his stats, or how they worked and affected him.

Smiling to the doll he nodded. "Thank you, can you channel some echoes?"

"Very well, let the echoes become your strength. Let me stand close, now, please close your eyes." The doll said gently. Doing as instructed he closed his eyes and held out his hand. Shivering slightly as he felt her cold wooden fingers gently wrap around his hand.

Then he was someplace else. Opening his eyes to a burning golden bonfire and seven wells of blood each baring unique design, from which large trees shot out from. Some were large, almost sprouting seeds and flowers while others were small saplings. Two trees were only beginning to sprout, barley reaching over the placid bloody waters.

Looking around in amazement he looked up, where then stars hung. Nine stars were dim, as if missing something. The only star casting light bore a gigantic rune that was an exact replica of the one he bore on his hand. Squinting at the stars he saw how they were grouped together, creating a group of seven 'blank' stars and two 'empty' stars that circled his moon rune stars almost subserviently.

"Where am I?" Jaune asked none as he walked towards the golden bonfire in the middle of everything.

"Kind hunter? You are able to enter your soul space? What a pleasant surprise." He heard the doll gently ask in surprise. Turning around he saw an almost ghostly form of the Doll. Eyes wide in surprise as she looked at him. She quickly recovered her composure and smiled sweetly at him. "This is your soul space. It is what makes you 'you'."

Before Jaune could ask what the trees, stars and bonfire represented, the doll smiled sweetly. "I will explain, for such is my duty." Gesturing for him to follow she knelt before the giant bonfire. "This, this is the strength of your soul. It's a representation of resolve, belief, morals and ethics. It will burn forever until you eventually pass."

"The seven trees are manifestation of knowledge, skill, instinct, understanding and your wisdom, be it subconscious or in conscious action. Watered and nurtured by interest, experience, action, passion, life, and time." The doll calmly explained as he took in his trees.

Instantly knowing what tree represented what stat. However the three trees that stood out the most was a mighty Oak representing strength, a healthy Maple representing vitality and a staunch Pine representing endurance.

The oak stood tall and proud, with thick branches and moderately sized leaves. The maple had vibrant red leaves with moderate spread, leaving some branches bare. The pine stood small and fragile, with tender green needles and a thin trunk.

For while small and delicate, he couldn't wait to see what they looked like when they grew to their absolute limit. He was sure they would look massive. Reaching the 'stars' and towering over his dreamscape.

Looking around he saw two other saplings, a Willow and a Sakura. Representing Skill and Bloodtinge. Through they were still small, they were still beautiful in their own unique way. The willow swaying gracefully with slender branches and delicate leaves, while the Sakura was sprouting some crimson blossoms.

Finally he came up the last two trees. Two trees that hadn't properly grown into their own yet, only barely peeking over the bloody water they were born in. Yet Jaune instinctively knew what they were. A cypress for Arcane, and a weeping willow for Insight. Whatever that stat meant.

"What do you mean by subconscious or conscious wisdom?" Jaune asked as he looked back at the doll. Earning him a soft smile as her eyes fell on his maple three, the tallest and most vibrant of any of his trees. "It's clear to see that you take proper care of yourself Kind Hunter. You eat healthy, sleep well, take care of your hygiene, have healthy spending habits, know to what limits to indulge and when to rest and recover. All actions you do without thinking. Is that not wisdom?"

"Then what of the stars?" Jaune asked curiously.

"Those Kind Hunter is a representation of how many Caryll Runes your soul can safely hold. Some may hold more and others less. When you explore Yharnam you will stumble upon runes that you can graft into your soul. Unfortunately the dream is bereft of the tool for grafting runes. The hunter who stole the tool from the dream fled to Hemwick Charnel Lane in a desperate attempt to be free from the dream. You might find some luck there if you are searching for it." The doll patiently explained as Jaune felt a rising curiosity about what they meant.

"What about my rune?" He asked and pointed towards the 'star' above that radiated gentle moonlight.

"Truly. You are proving yourself to be truly one of a kind, Kind Hunter." The doll said with a kind smile. "That rune means 'Moonhunters Guidance'. What it does I don't know, but I'm sure you have a better understanding of it than me."

"Yes." Jaune instantly replied having absolutely no clue whatsoever. The doll nodded and turned back to the roaring bonfire that was his soul. "Now, as I'm channelling echoes you can direct them. Know that as your trees grow, they will require more echoes to properly grow. Needing little as a sapling or sprout but needing more as they become more mature."

Closing his eyes, Jaune 'felt' how he could allocate echoes to each stat. Quickly choosing to boost both Skill and Bloodtinge to 10 on both stats. Not even having enough echoes left to increase Arcane by a single value.

Then the doll begun channelling and Jaune was torn out from his soul scape and back into the dream as foreign feelings, emotions and sounds bombarded him.

He felt the blood in his veins, how it travelled and flowed. Together as he felt himself become more aware of his body. Almost feeling synapses firing as his reactions became faster. Becoming just as aware to the usual background noise from the dream, almost as if the world stood still for but a minute. As silent whispers rang out in the silence, distant echoes doing their best to try and guide him forwards.

Just as quickly as everything came, it disappeared. And Jaune was left feeling out of breath as the doll gently rose. Feeling like he could stroll down the great bridge and pimp slap the cleric beast to death. Shaking himself out of his thoughts he glanced at his stats.

Name: Jaune 'of' Arc

Level: 24

Blood Echoes: 3

Insight:1

Vitality: 20

Endurance: 13

Strength: 18

Skill: 10

Bloodtinge: 10

Arcane: 2

Looking at his changed stats he almost wanted to dive back into his 'soul scape' and see how his trees had grown. A thought that was quickly pushed to the side as the doll rose back to its full height and smiled gently at him.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Kind Hunter? You need only ask." The doll asked with a gentle bow, breaking him out of his thoughts. "No, thank you. I have a hunt to continue, and a fighting style to develop." Jaune said with a soft smile as he headed over to the headstone. Forgoing to talk with Gehrman nor his idea about fortifying Crocea Mors.

Completely caught up in his newfound confidence and wanting to test what his stat increase meant. Mind whirling whit ideas of how to make his budding fighting style get a semblance of framework. Ideas spinning al the while he marvelled at how smooth and effortless walking felt. Almost as if he had been chained down his entire life.

"Then I bid thee farewell, kind hunter. May you find your worth in the waking world."

With those words of good luck, Jaune woke up in Yharnam. Feeling a tad bit more confident than he did ten minutes ago.

####

Note:

Don't worry. Jaune will eventually be OP. But it won't just fall in his lap. He has a lot of learning and growing to do before he becomes someone truly to be reckoned with.

We are also introduced to one of Jaune's long term goals. Get all stats to 99. Will it be reached? Who knows.

Note:

Most licensed huntsmen have their Skill and Marksmanship (Their version of Bloodtinge, just minus the blood-based abilities) stats between 40-59, at Adept. While more elite huntsmen have these two stats between 60-79, at Expert (Think Qrow, the Ace Ops, Ironwood, Winter, etc). The only one who have these stats at 90+ is Ozpin. And that's only due to literal lifetimes of experience.