A/N: Kos bless me, 3k+ reads! I can't believe people actually enjoy my work! Thank you so much! To thank you, I will give you this nice 4K+ word chapter.
A/N2: Also, Wilhelm is not Willem. They're both different people. Wilhelm is an OC. Master Willem is dead. Thank you.
"Time to run." Alfred said as he shook Dante awake. It was early in the morning, but then again, it might as well still have been nighttime to him. "What in Kos have you—"
"ALFRED!" Goodwitch's ear-shattering voice echoed down the halls, probably waking the entire academy up in the process. "Oh." A surprised Dante let out. He was still a little sleepy, but that didn't matter. His friend was in trouble.
He then got up quickly. "Come on. I know this place like the back of my hand." They had to act quickly.
"Oh I'll trust you on that." Alfred said in a snarky tone. He remembered how lost the poor Hunter was during his first time around Yharnam. It took them hours just to find Cathedral Ward again and even more to find the Forsaken Castle Cainhurst having run into dead ends and cliff drop-offs constantly.
Alfred did not help back then because he found it too amusing to watch the poor Hunter flounder and whine about how lost he was.
"Shut up." Dante said, unamused. A door slammed open, attempting to block Alfred's path (probably caused by an angry teacher with her riding crop and glyphs) but he was prepared. The Messengers passed him his Wheel, and he slammed it into the door, turning it into splinters.
If the academy's peace was disturbed with the formation of Team RWBY, then the arrival of Alfred and Dante as a duo would turn it into outright chaos.
The PA system turned on, and an amused Ozpin's voice came on. "Turn left. There's a stairwell on the right. Head down two floors." He was chucking softly as he said this.
Alfred then said, "Thank you, Headmaster," with a smile as he winked at the camera they were passing by.
"No problem." The PA system turned off. Beacon on weekends would not be the same again.
Dante could hear Glynda raging at the fact that the Headmaster had turned against her. He would've laughed if she weren't a few meters away and closing.
—
Sunday has arrived. Alfred was relaxing on the roof, and Dante was standing guard. Glynda had put out a bounty on the Executioner in the form of extra grade in her class ever since that incident, and most of the teams formed (minus their allies Team RWBY and Team JNPR) were trying to find and hunt him down.
Glynda knew putting out a bounty in the form of extra grade was wrong, but she was too angry and petty to think. Probably. Dante didn't know.
"Alfred it's only been a day, and you're causing this much chaos already?" Dante said with a smile.
"Eh. I was bored, and I didn't know what else to do so I broke into your Glynda's room for the fun of it." Alfred said.
"Okay too much information. Too much information. And for your information, she's not my Glynda."
"For real though, the look on her face." Alfred stood up and showed Dante a look of absolute surprise, embarrassment, shame and fear. "And she was almost half-naked too so—"
Dante slapped his hand over Alfred's mouth, because he was starting to get embarrassed himself. "Too much information!"
"Should I be worried though?" Alfred said through the muffle over his mouth. Dante shrugged, and took his hand off. "I don't think so. She doesn't seem like the type to hold grudges for too long. She'll probably let it go after a few days."
"How did this even happen?" Dante asked. Alfred and him sat down. "Well you see, I didn't actually break into her room. I didn't see her naked either. I was just messing with you. What I really did..."
—
A few hours earlier...
Alfred was busy walking about. It certainly wasn't like Byrgenwerth. Then again, what would he know? His information about that Academy and what they were up to came from stories shared to him by his fellows, and almost all information was vague.
Each time he walked through this academy, he always seemed to find something new, such as an unlit lantern out in the open courtyard near the fountain. Everyone seems to either walk past or through it, so it seems to be an unopened shortcut.
Another time, he found a room hidden behind an illusory wall inside the main school building. There was a chest inside. Covered in dust and cobwebs, it seems that it's been there for a while. He made a mental note to remember this later.
Soon, he found himself in the teacher's area of the building. Again. He walked in one time and silently watched people over their shoulders like a Kos-damned supervisor, until Glynda Goodwitch sent him off.
"You're not our supervisor." She basically said, but Alfred vaguely remembered her saying more. I think he just tuned most of it out just as he left.
In the end, feeling bored, he ended up hijacking her class when a convenient distraction (in the form of a stubborn locked door. In fact all of the doors were locked. How unfortunate.) kept her in the teacher's room, and that was fun.
"Good day to you all, I am Alfred. You can call me Sir Alfred, your choice. It appears your normal teacher is running late. I have been assigned to take over this class temporarily." He silver-tongued his way to victory.
And the rest was history. He mostly talked combat, how to win against human enemies and how to absolutely eviscerate them to boot. He also taught them the magic of parrying an enemy with guns (which he doubted they would use, but he taught them anyway), and even took time to appreciate some weapons.
He especially enjoyed complementing the white haired girl. According to some information from a certain Rose, the girl named Weiss never blushed or was embarrassed when someone complemented her, but always did so whenever he was around.
Soon enough, he was in the middle of watching 1v1 duels between his 'students'. "Alright. Listen. I do not care if you have Aura. If you're hit in the head, or anywhere vital, you're dead. All of you remember what I said right?"
The first set of duelists nodded. "Alright. Duo A. Cardin Winchester and Weiss Schnee."
The two stepped up onto the stage. "No no no. Not there. This whole gymnasium will be your battlefield. After all, real fighting won't confine you to one area only. Everyone, move as close to the wall as possible to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. You two, use the battlefield to your advantage."
The rest of the class moved closer to the walls as instructed. Alfred had thrown around a bunch of chairs and tables to serve as obstacles for this makeshift arena as Cardin and Weiss stood ready and watched each other from afar.
"Well?! Go on! There are no countdowns in real life!" Weiss moved first. Her prepared glyphs launched her forward, straight towards Cardin, who tried to block.
"Blocking an oncoming strike like that won't work all the time. If you think you're in trouble, dodge towards her, not away from her, since she can still catch you in the ass." Alfred gave tips from the sidelines. Cardin followed, surprisingly, and rolled forward, dodging the rapier that would've gouged his eye out.
Weiss skidded along the ground, and created another glyph to boost her forward. Cardin threw a chair at her, which she just blocked.
As the two continued their fierce battle, Alfred saw Glynda walk into the gymnasium from around the side. She started to walk towards Alfred with a predatory look on her face, when a chair embedded itself in the wall a few centimeters from her.
Cardin didn't seem to notice, and neither did Weiss, since the two continued playing their deadly game of tag. Whoever was caught was dead.
When Glynda walked around the chair, Alfred was gone. He snuck around and was waving her goodbye as he ran out the door.
—
"And... that's how that happened." Alfred ended the hectic story with a sly smile. Dante could not believe his ears. He always thought of Alfred as the serious man who never bothered to mess around.
Who would've thought Alfred actually had fun once in awhile. As the two began to laugh and continue talking, he heard the sound of a bell tolling.
It was distant and seemed muffled. "You hear that?" Dante asked Alfred as they both stood up. "I hear it."
The bell stopped tolling after a few seconds, but the effect it had on the two hunters stayed. "An invader?"
"Most likely. But the only question..." Alfred continued. Both their thought trains seemed to be going to the same destination.
"Where?" They both looked at each other.
—
Herr Verrückt was enjoying himself. He was friendly with the people who passed by him, and was familiarizing himself with the people on the Main Street. Connections would prove useful later on, as he learned. That shopkeeper was a friendly chap too.
His quarry could wait. For now, he needed more information about this world. No doubt his quarry has been here for a while, so he knew the lay of the land more than him. He secretly enjoyed interacting with the people here, but there was a purpose.
The only thing that can kill a Hunter is lack of information and his quarry, Dante Alighieri, was the embodiment of it.
Not much was known of him, minus his name and titles. He supposedly has survived multiple Hunts, and has a vast arsenal of weaponry and arcane tools. His background is unknown, and the limit to his skill is unknown. It's also been said that he has murdered multiple hunters sent after him, and has killed just as many 'prey' as a Hunter of Hunters. He served the Vilebloods as a Cainhurst Knight, became Master of the League for a little while, and was a member (only for a few days) of the Executioners.
All of that came together to give him this pseudo-legendary status amongst all the active Hunters and all in all, a dangerous but worthy prey. Wilhelm "Herr Verrückt" smiles to himself as he continues sipping his coffee.
He had changed his Confederate uniform into the standard gentleman's uniform (alternative Hunter's Set with Top Hat), and was carrying his Threaded Cane with him. He had other weapons like the Whirligig Saw and the Hunter's Axe, but this was the most inconspicuous weapon he had that still boasted of decent speed and reach.
Besides, he can switch weapons using the Messengers if he needed to. He left a gold coin on the table, since he didn't have whatever currency this world took. He just hoped that they would accept it since that was all he had.
Hunters had no use for money back at Yharnam, after all.
He left the coffee shop, and continued walking up the street. He never noticed the fleeting shadow in the alley that seemed to follow him.
—
Micolash was back in the Nightmare of Mensis, doing his typical walkabout, killing a few unfortunate souls who stumbled into his castle who did not have their wits about them.
It was when 'Red' returned that he decided to take a break. He returned to his chambers, surrounded by the puppets brought to life by the Nightmare.
"Hello, 'Red'." He said to her. "Good day, Lord Micolash." She responded and curtsied. "Any more news to report?"
She seemed to think about this for a while before she drew out a borrowed Burial Blade and slammed the transformed weapon into the ground. She sat down on the weapon's handle as she thought.
"Oh right. There's another Hunter."
"Who?" Micolash leaned a little closer, intrigued.
"Calls himself Wilhelm. A newly chartered Confederate, but a veteran Hunter of Hunters."
Micolash contemplated on this for a few seconds, then he nodded. "Alright. Stay on him, and if you think the time is right, try and get him on our side. He'll be useful in disposing of that other Hunter."
"Oh you mean Alighieri? I like him really. He's cute, in the 'half-cut with blood' kind of way." 'Red' smiled to herself. "It's a shame that we have to get rid of him."
Micolash nodded. "It truly is a shame." He said sarcastically. "Well, off with you. You have spying to do."
'Red' smiled, curtsied, and left the Nightmare, returning to the Waking World.
—
"Alright. Come on. Let's head back to the dorms. Hopefully this all blows over by tonight." Dante whispered to his friend as they snuck through the hallways, which were currently filled with armed students searching for them.
It was slightly funny to both of them that the students thought they actually had a chance at taking both of them on.
As they continued sneaking back to their shared room, they encountered four armed students, Cardin Winchester and his friends.
Dante and Alfred looked at each other. "Hm..."
Alfred shrugs, and gives his playful smile. "I'm in a good mood today. Shall we give them a good scare?"
Dante remembered the prank he and Alfred pulled together. When a few Hunters decided to invade, they were busy taking down a Bloodstarved Beast in Old Yharnam.
After quickly dispatching of it, the two of them decided to pull off a prank. Dante positioned himself a few meters away from Alfred, who wore an Executioner's Glove.
As the three hunters came along, Dante began to walk towards and attack Alfred. He purposely missed the strike, and allowed Alfred to hit him with the full barrage of the Glove, which knocked him straight into a pillar.
Alfred smiled under his Ardeo, and laughed in triumph. "Who wishes to challenge me?" He said with a spread of his arms, as if calling on the invaders to take him on. They expected it to backfire, but surprisingly the three Hunters got out of there immediately.
The two began to smile to themselves like idiots.
Maybe it would work with Cardin's crew. "Let's do it." Dante said, and Alfred's smile seemed to widen. They were in position, but just as they were about to activate the Glove, another bell began to ring.
This one was familiar. Time froze, and Cardin and his crew were stuck in place. Brador walked in between the group towards them.
The smiles the two held vanished. Alfred held a disdain for the Church Assassin, who murdered his own compatriot and donned their hide on his suit. He found it disgusting.
Dante held even more disdain and hatred for the man too. Brador posed no trouble for him but he was a bloody psychopath. Never mind the Cleric Beast hide he wore, he rather focused on how many Hunters he slaughtered in cold blood. And he will never forget what he did to him.
"What do you want Brador?" Dante broke the silence. He had venom in his tone when he mentioned the Assassin's name.
Brador gave a little smile as he leaned on the frozen form of Cardin. He seemed to think about something.
Dante and Alfred looked at each other, then back at Brador. "Micolash has made his move." That was all he said.
Alfred and Dante looked at each other again then back at Brador. "What in Kos do you mean?"
Brador's smile widened. "The Host of the Nightmare has begun invasion plans. Soon this place will be swarming with blood-crazed Hunters." The bell began to ring again, and he sighed.. "My time just gets shorter every single time. Well, I must go. Someone is trespassing again."
He waved the two Hunters goodbye as he vanished into thin air, and time began to move again. Cardin's party unfroze and the two just barely managed to duck into a conveniently unlocked storage room.
Alfred and Dante were crouched down out of view from the roving students as they began to process this information. Alfred's suspicions and fears were confirmed with Brador's words. "Oh sweet mother of Kos..."
"What is it?"
"So I really saw Micolash..."
Dante's eyes widened as he clasped his friend by both shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Where?"
"When I got lost. I saw a man who looked strangely like Micolash, minus the cage. And on his arm was the girl. What was her name? Ah yes, Ruby. She looked uncannily like her, and I did not want to think about who else it could be." Alfred swallowed.
"What else?"
"I have a very interesting, and terrifying, theory, old friend." Silence. "I think the girl I saw was an Impostor."
Dante's eyes widened. "Oh dear..."
—
After a few hours of close calls with the ends of student weapons, Glynda finally found her cool and took back the extra grade bounty she put out and accepted Alfred's apology.
They asked her if they could meet with the Headmaster under the excuse that they would apologize for the chaos they caused over the weekend, since they saw her as Ozpin's secretary (which she sort of felt insulted by).
She grumbled a "Yes." Dante gave her his thanks as him and Alfred hopped on the elevator up to the Headmaster's office. Alfred didn't seem to panic or anything upon boarding.
Probably because there were more primitive versions of elevators back in Yharnam.
When they arrived at the Headmaster's office, the man's chair was turned away from the entrance towards the window. The sounds of loud slurping filled the room.
"Headmaster, we have some... information you may find important." Alfred said first.
They waited until Ozpin turned away from the window to face them. He did, and looked the both of them in the eye. "Speak up, boys."
"Sir, have you ever heard of Micolash?" Ozpin gave them a skeptical look, and gestured for Dante to continue. "Ah of course. You see, to keep it short, Micolash wanted to make contact with the Great Ones. With that idea in mind, he established the School of Mensis, caused a mass suicide, and eventually trapped himself in a castle in a nightmare."
Again, Ozpin gestured for him to continue. "Now, he's a crazy man, I can assure you. But I just learned..."
Silence.
"He's 'supposedly' going to invade this place, 'supposedly' assisted by Hunters such as me and Alfred here." Ozpin still had the skeptical look. "Where did you get this information?" He asked. Dante was about to answer, but Alfred struck first.
"An old friend told us."
"Is this friend trustworthy?"
Dante and Alfred looked each other. "We don't trust him, but unfortunately..." Alfred started.
"He's never wrong." Dante finished. "Did he tell you anything else?" Ozpin asked. "No." Dante answered.
Ozpin seemed to think for a while before turning his chair back to the window. He took a small sip from his mug. "You may go."
Dante and Alfred bowed and hopped on the elevator down. Ozpin continued sipping as he thought on what the duo said to him.
His Scroll pinged. A message from a Qrow. 'Huh. Now this will be interesting.' He took another sip.
—
Somewhere in downtown Vale, close to the alleys, a weapon shop sits. It's closed and it's the type of weapon shop that only a few would actually take their time to find and enter.
A young man with platinum blonde hair yawns, and sits up in his bed. He scratches the back of his head as he gets up out of it with practice. He lost his left leg some time ago, though he doesn't remember how or when. He replaced it with a peg leg, and although there were prosthetics now, he didn't want to change it.
Actually, it's not that he didn't want to change it, it's that he couldn't. Why? He didn't know either.
But that didn't matter to him. He got up anyway, slipped into his wheelchair, moved into a little elevator that he had installed into his rented building, and went down to the ground floor.
It was a little past noon, but that didn't matter to him either. He'll still open up shop. On either side of the shop interior, weapons lined the walls in cases drilled to wall.
Some of the weapons that were stored looked old, like a curved sword with a small blade on the inside that must have seen a lot of combat, with blood still staining the blades and the outer blade looking dull, yet sharp.
Others looked monstrously huge, like a purely metal greatsword half-wrapped in cloth that seemed too large to be able cut anything at all, and it smelled strangely like the moon.
Some were just... strange, like an old katana with runes on the blade and sharp needles on the handle. The rest seemed like regular Huntsman's weapons.
But the thing that separated these weapons from others? All these weapons on his shelves were made by him. Using his bare hands, tools and whatever materials he could get, he made masterpieces.
A well-loved and used traditional scythe with numerous scratch marks (or they could represent some kind of counting, but what it counted is unknown) next to the young man, who was busy drinking his coffee from behind the counter.
Dust of all kinds and ammunition of all types were placed in glass compartments, and firearms were on display underneath the primary weapon cases.
Business was well. Those who had heard of his work, or just stumbled into his shop out of dumb luck, always came back for more, may it be for repairs, ammo, dust or more weapons.
He also accepted custom-made orders. He was working on this little project in the backroom. A longsword that, when stabbed into the ground, fires off homing blade projectiles that the user can control with their semblance.
'Just go out and kill a few beasts. It's for your own good.'
He stopped drinking his coffee. That memory... it did not belong to him, but he had already gotten used to it. It happens every once in a while, while working, drinking coffee, practicing with that old scythe.
'Dear oh dear, what was it? The Hunt, the Blood or the horrible Dream?'
Actually, the only reason he even practiced with that old thing was because something in his mind kept telling him to, and he couldn't say no.
'Oh well. It doesn't matter. It's always up to the hunter's helper to clean up after these sorts of messes.'
He shook his head and rid himself of such thoughts. For now, he had a business to run. No time for an old retired Huntsman to be worrying about memories of someone else.
...God, something was wrong with him. "Time to open up the Huntsman's Workshop." He said to himself in an attempt to distract himself. He wheeled himself over to the blinds. He opened them to the afternoon sun, and flipped the sign. "Open for business..."
... --- ...
Morse code. It was muffled and he could barely hear it but he could hear the dashes and dots.
--. . .... .-. -- .- -.
Strange.
—
Micolash, accompanied by 'Red', returned to the White Fang warehouse in Vale. There were quite a few White Fang. Close to a hundred. Roman was smoking a cigar while he was looking over a map of downtown Vale.
"Not taking any chances are we?" Micolash asked, amused. "No. No we aren't." Roman responded, but he was more focused on the map. Micolash continued laughing in amusement, but then he remembered their next part of the deal.
And apparently, so did Roman.
"Where was that 'Chalice Dungeon' ritual whatever you promised?" Roman said first. Micolash nodded. "It is part of our agreement. I assumed you already knew since you gathered this many soldiers."
The madman then gestured to the one hundred White Fang present, armed and ready for battle.
"It slipped my mind. Now go do it." Micolash did not like Roman's acting-authoritative tone. In fact, he felt slightly insulted.
"You can't tell me what to do, unenlightened fool..." He muttered an angry curse at the man and went off to open up the Chalice Dungeon.
He knelt down on the floor, close to the lantern. He placed the skull chalice that represented Ailing Loran on a red cushion, and soon began to chant.
"May the sand that consumed the cursed city open the path to me. May it guide my way, and grace my sickly blood with strength." The Messengers popped out of the ground, and the Chalice began to glow.
A tombstone rose out of the ground, ripping apart cement and earth. Coldblood flowers bloomed next to the chalice which was almost overflowing with red blood.
"And let thee partake in communion." He stood up. The ritual was complete. He walked away, back to Roman. "It's done. Now have your men hook up to the Dream."
Roman nodded with a smile. "Thank you friend." Micolash was not happy with this. "We aren't friends fool." He walked away, and 'Red' followed him, who stuck her tongue out at Roman before leaving.
"You heard the man. Touch the lantern." The White Fang were confused. "Do it! Before I make you..." They moved towards the lantern, all of them having skeptical looks, as one by one they knelt down and touched the visible lantern, and one by one they vanished into thin air.
Roman waited until all the White Fang were gone.
"Here we go..." Roman said as he 'hooked' himself up to the Dream. When he touched the lantern, he was falling and falling and falling...
He landed on a stone path, which surprisingly did not hurt him in the least. He stood up, and began to look around the 'Dream'.
"Interesting..." He began to walk around the garden. There were interesting things around here. A few dozen gravestones lined the garden fences. Some of them were so old the names written on them were no longer readable.
There was also a metal gate that was locked. He tried to blow the thing down, but it held up under his fire Dust rounds.
There was also a life-sized doll placed down on a rock platform. A staircase led up to a small chapel, whose doors were locked.
Now Roman was interested. He wanted to find out what was behind those doors. But how...
As he inspected the locked doors, he barely heard the whisper that seemed to echo over everything and nothing. "Another Hunter..."
Roman's spine tingled. Micolash did not warn him that there were others in this Dream. "Who's there! I warn you, I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it!" He then waved his cane-gun in the air.
The gate that was locked began to creak open, and Roman gravitated towards it. He didn't even realize that he wasn't in control until he was inside the field of lilies.
The moon was large and whole. That disturbed him. A name flashed across his mind, but Roman... he hesitated to call out.
He shouldn't be here. He never should have come here. "Say my name..." The whisper echoed across the field, like a cold gentle breeze.
Roman swallowed his nerve, and spoke so softly no one would've heard him, which was uncharacteristic of him.
"...Flora..."
A/N 3: Half plot chapter half filler chapter I don't even know anymore LOL. Please enjoy this piece. I worked literal weeks on this LMAO. Nito out.