LONG AGO, BEFORE HUMANITY, BEFORE THE FAUNUS, BEFORE DUST, REMNANT WAS A VERY DIFFERENT WORLD. FILLED WITH MYTHS AND LEGENDS BEYOND TIME ITSELF.
AND AMONG THEM, ONE ROSE TO CLAIM HIS PLACE. A MORTAL, BURDENED BY A DARK PAST , EARNING THE RIGHT TO BE CALLED A GOD.
HOWEVER, HE WAS FOREVER HAUNTED BY VISIONS OF HIS FAMILY, A FAMILY HE HIMSELF HAD MURDERED. BETRAYED BY HIS FELLOW GODS AND CAST INTO THE ABYSS, HIS RAGE DROVE HIM ON A JOURNEY OF VENGEANCE.
THE HANDS OF DEATH COULD NOT CONTAIN HIM.
THE SISTERS OF FATE COULD NOT CONTROL HIM.
AND EVEN THE GODS THEMSELVES FELL BEFORE HIS WRATH.
AS THE WORLD TREMBLED FROM THE CHAOS HE HAD UNLEASHED UPON IT, WITH THE LAST OF HIS STRENGTH, HE BROUGHT AN END TO THE DAMAGE HIS WAR AGAINST THE GODS HAD CAUSED.
AND IN DOING SO, BROUGHT HOPE TO THE WORLD. BUT WITH IT, HE HAD ALSO BROUGHT THE CREATION OF THE CREATURES OF DARKNESS… THE GRIMM.
SINCE THAT DAY, THE WORLD HAD GREATLY CHANGED. THE PEOPLE OF REMNANT REBUILT THEIR CIVILIZATIONS AND FORGED THEIR OWN HISTORY.
NONE OF THOSE THAT LIVED IN THE CENTURIES THAT FOLLOWED AWARE OF WHAT HAD ALTERED THE VERY FACE OF THEIR WORLD TO WHAT IT IS TODAY. THE EXISTENCE OF THE LONE MORTAL, WHO DEFIED GODS AND FATE ITSELF, FADING AWAY WITH THE SANDS OF TIME.
BUT LEGENDS ARE NEVER TRULY FORGOTTEN. THEIR GREATNESS STRIVING THROUGH EVEN THE STRONGEST EBB AND FLOW OF THE UNIVERSE.
AND THE LEGEND OF THIS MAN STILL EXISTS TO THIS DAY. HIS LEGACY LIVING ON IN THE NEW GENERATION OF WARRIORS THAT FIGHT THE DARKNESS PLAGUING THEIR WORLD.
THIS IS THE STORY OF ONE SUCH WARRIORS, ONE WHO HOLDS THE POWER OF THE GREATEST SOUL HIS WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN. THIS IS THE STORY OF THE LAST LIVING DESCENDANT OF THE GOD SLAYER, THE GHOST OF SPARTA...
KRATOS.
The sun had just risen, the early rays reflecting on the patches of snow that settled on the ground and the tree branches above. The sounds of various forms or wildlife could be heard as they awoke to greet the new day.
Boots softly crunching along the ground could be heard in the nearly silent forest, a lone figure could be seen moving through the trees, hunched low to keep as quiet as possible. Dressed in a pair of torn black cargo pants and a black long-sleeved shirt beneath a tattered brown cloak, the hood pulled up over his head.
A large satchel was slung around his shoulders, on his back was a quiver of arrows situated beside a long handled battle-axe that had a blue glowing crystal in the center of the blade. The weapon has several deep scratches and marks from constant use over many years.
Breathing in the cool and crisp morning air and releasing it out in a white mist, he adjusted the grip he had on the bow in his hands. An arrow knocked and ready as he knelt down and checked the ground, a fresh set of hoof tracks clearly visible with the snow covering the ground.
Standing, he followed the tracks as they went across a small creak and toward a clearing. Keeping hidden within the treeline, he peered out to see the deer he'd been tracking for the last hour standing out in the open.
The animal scuffled at the ground with one of its front hooves before lowering its head and eating some of the grass it had uncovered. Unaware of the hunter that was silently watching it.
His quarry in sight, he raised his bow, using the tree beside him to brace against and help steady his aim. Pulling the arrow back, the hunter took a handful of deep breaths to calm his mind and prepare to take the shot.
The snapping of a dried branch behind him perked his ears up, the sound of claws scraping across the ground and the low pitch growl of whatever was moving drawing steadily closer to where he was standing.
Exhaling his last breath… he quickly dropped to the ground, spun on his heel and leapt backwards, the arrow he had drawn firing straight at the creature that charged after him and hitting his target.
A Beowolf crashed to the ground, arrow sticking from its right eye socket, and laid motionless from the kill shot. The hunter glared at the downed Grimm, hearing the sound of the deer running off into the forest behind him while several more Beowolves stalked out into the clearing. Five total, their maws filled with glistening fangs as they closed in on their target.
Surveying his opposition, the hunter remained calm. Drawing a new arrow and knocking it while waiting for the Grimm to make the first move. He didn't have to wait long as the one closest to him lunged, red eyes blazing, claws extended and teeth wide.
But he was quicker, snapping his bow up and firing the arrow straight into its neck and dropping it. The rest of the Grimm went on the attack, intending on ripping the hunter to pieces.
Ducking under a claw that would have removed his head from his shoulders, he swung his bow and knocked one of the Beowolves aside. Jumping straight up, he kicked another in a different direction giving him time to sling the bow over his shoulder and drew his axe. The dust crystal infused into the blade flaring to life and causing bright-blue veins to spread along the dense metal.
When the next Grimm came at him, he greeted it with a hard, upward swing. The blade sliced into the beast's lower jaw, nearly taking it off and stunning the Beowolf.
Kicking the creature off the axe, he swung again, this time slamming the weapon into the Grimm's bone-mask and nearly splitting its skull in half. The hunter planted his foot on the Beowolf's neck and yanked the axe free in time to block the claw strike of another, slashing left, then right, tearing large gashes in the beast's chest and splashing black ichor across the ground.
With a hard lunge, he slammed his shoulder into the Beowolf's middle and knocked it down onto its back, leaving it vulnerable. A swift swing of his axe ended the creature quickly, leaving only two remaining.
Shaking the blackish blood from his weapon, he turned and prepared for another round. The last two Beowolves snarled and started stalking around the hunter in a wide circle. He watched them, his thoughts calculating as he prepared for their next move, grip tight on his axe.
The creatures made two revolutions around him before coming to a stop, their claws kicking up snow and dirt as they charged.
Waiting for just the right moment, the hunter spun around and threw his axe. The blade impaling the first Beowolf in the chest, the dust crystal flashing brightly as ice began to spread across the Grimm's body from the inside out.
In a matter of seconds the creature collapsed like dead-weight, its now frozen form shattering like glass when it hit the ground.
With one target down, the hunter felt the remaining Beowolf bearing down on him and reacted quickly. Dropping to a crouch, he snapped his elbow back and slammed it into the Grimm's muzzle, making it recoil as he spun around to face it.
Leaning left to avoid the claws of its left arm, he grabbed the extended limb and flipped up and around onto the beast's back. Using the bone-spikes for leverage, he held on as the Beowolf attempted to shake him off. Gripping tight, he snapped his right hand out and focused his aura.
His axe, which was still embedded in the frozen torso of the last Grimm it had killed, shuttered before snapping free and flying into the hunter's waiting hand. Armed again, he slammed the weapon into the back of the Beowolf's neck several times, each strike driving the blade deeper into the beast's body.
Ichor splashed across his form, the hunter took the axe's handle and forced it against the Beowolf's throat. Already weak from the damage already wrought, it was too weak to properly defend itself as the hunter used his strength to wrench its head back and twist hard to the right.
A loud snap echoed and the creature went still, falling face first to the dirt with its head at an odd angle. The hunter rose back to his feet and stepped off the already dissolving corpse, the other vanquished Grimm having become nothing more than a grey mist that faded into the air.
Returning the axe to its place on his back, he looked off to where the deer he had been tracking disappeared and sighed. The chances of him managing to track it again was slim, and all the combat would have scared it off quite a ways by now.
However, the day was still early. And there was a chance he could catch something else and get home before it got too late.
He turned and prepared to head farther North—
Something slammed into his chest, sending him skidding across the ground and forcing him to slam a hand down to keep himself upright. The sudden burst of movement caused his hood to be blown off, revealing a young face no older than 18 with short-spiky snow-white hair, and a pair of wolf ears peaking off the top of his head. A jagged scar running down the right side of his face over one of his dark-scarlet eyes that both glared at his attacker.
The first Beowolf he'd shot with an arrow stood there, the bolt still lodged firmly in its neck as it growled ferally at him. Rising up on its hind legs and slashing with both claws in wide arcs, the hunter ducking and rolling backwards out of the Grimm's reach, coming back up with his bow in hand and a fresh arrow drawn from his quiver.
The Beowolf roared, giving him all the opening he needed before firing, the creature's echoing call immediately cut off when the arrow pierced the back of its mouth and came out the back of its neck. The head of the bolt shined red, revealing it to be carved from a dust crystal, before exploding in a blast of fire. Blowing the Grimm's head apart and swallowing the remains in flames.
With the final threat nothing more than cooling ashes, the hunter slung his bow over his shoulder and made his way back toward the forest. Pulling the hood of his cloak back up and over his head as he disappeared into the trees.
Unknown to the hunter, another cloaked man had been watching through a pair of binoculars. Tracking the young man's movements carefully while talking on his scroll.
"It's definitely him, are you sure about this? If this kid's anything like his parents were, I'm pretty sure things around Beacon will get more than a bit hectic."
"Yes. Trying to locate him all this time was difficult, and we cannot let this opportunity pass," replied the one on the other end. "And you know as well as I do that it was his parents, and the skills they taught him, being the reason why we have been searching for him. And with what we are facing on the horizon, we need someone like him."
Qrow Branwen sighed as he saw the young man he'd been tracking slip out of sight. "You better be right about this, Oz." he said before ending the call, putting both his scroll and the binoculars into his cloak before following the young hunter at a safe distance.