Servants in Remnant

Stolen Name

They were travelling through the forest when they heard the explosion. The beowolves froze for several seconds before Alpha growled at them, pushing for them to investigate, and they started running towards the source.

There were a dozen beowolves in this pack, led Alpha. They weren't sure their exact location, nor did they care. They were at least a couple days away from any human settlement, having made a raid against the place a week ago and had needed to put some distance in between them so the Hunters wouldn't find them. They had been under Alpha for several years now, and they didn't regret it at all. With Alpha's help, they had grown strong off of the negative emotions of the humans, and they were determined to not let their progress stop from overconfidence.

The masked werewolves quickly came to the area where the explosion occurred, staying within the shadows of the trees. In the clearing, they saw a man on his knees within a circle of charred grass, slowly standing up. For the first time since he had taken over the pack, Alpha felt a surge from his baser instincts attempt to overule his mind.

Death. Hunter. Danger!

Grimm, the creatures of darkness spawned by Salem, were not usually intelligent. They hunted by instinct, following the negative emotions they sensed. But Alpha was different. He had survived long enough he was gaining a semblance of sentience, and he used it to help his pack become strong. Though his strategies were basic, when used on people that weren't expecting it, they were highly effective. Yes, instincts helped, but more often than not rational thought would prevail, especially since Hunters knew his kind well enough that they could guess what they would do if he followed his instincts. He had fought Hunters before, he had killed Hunters before, but none that had given him this feeling. As if the word hunter had a different meaning, one that felt... Older.

Now the man stood up, and he got a better view of him. Bare-chested, with colored markings on his body, interlaced with scars telling of old fights, a twisted sword in one hand, and a large... Club(?) in the other.

Alpha jerked back in disbelief. Hunters had Aura. That energy from the soul was the only way that humans were able to stand up to the might of even the weakest of Grimm. It's protection and quick healing also prevented most scars, and if someone lost their aura in the middle of a fight with the Grimm they didnt get scars, they lost limbs, if not their lives. Yet this man had a patchwork of scars running across his chest and back. Could it be from other humans? The thought was discarded. The scars were too big to have been caused by humans. It was definitely made by a beast of some sort.

Alpha directed his pack to go around and flank the man. Regardless of his initial feelings, the man had signs of not having aura, and though he had a couple weapons, he didnt reek of Dust. Not even in trace amounts. That meant that this man would not have any special abilities, not any of the thunder weapons most Hunters had. He would be careful as he always was, but this fight probably wasn't going to take long. He barely listened as the man started speaking to himself.

"Hmph, that was a rough summoning! And with no Master in sight... Most curious. And why is Gaia's presence so.. Weak? It's not Alya, she feels just as weak. Let me see, no presence of the Grail either. Ah! there we go, knowledge of current events. Not as prompt as the Grail, but I'll take it."

Alpha narrowed his eyes. the man didn't have the speaking glass that most humans did when they talked to themselves. Was this human mad perhaps? His initial feelings of unease slowly letting up, but not going away completely, as the man continues to ramble to himself. Soon they would attack and see if the madman could properly feed all of them with the emotions they desired.