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Chapter 82 - 82. A Culling Moon (Part 7)

The air outside Beacon's protective perimeter carried an indescribable weight.

Within the base's walls, the world still felt like some reflection of normalcy—bright lights, reinforced structures and people who moved with purpose, but never panic. Once Jaune and his unit crossed the threshold of the safety field, however, the illusion shattered.

The night pressed against him.

Perpetual, suffocating and eternal.

The broken red blood moon loomed high above, its jagged edges glowing faintly through the haze of drifting sky mist. The landscape beyond the barrier was the same as always. A warped cityscape, with structures twisted by time and corrosion. Entire buildings leaned unnaturally, as though something had gnawed at their foundations. Glassless broken windows stared back like hollow eyes and the silence beyond the barrier had a subtle feeling of violence in its scream. 

The faint hum of LUCID's invisible barrier fizzled out behind them, and silence swallowed everything in its wake.

Jaune swallowed and adjusted the gun—an AR-Pistol—hanging on his hip. It was standard issue—matte black and boxy. Nothing particularly sleek or elegant about it. His belt carried spare magazines that clinked lightly as he walked. He felt clumsy in the gear compared to his teammates.

Ren moved ahead with confidence, his own two odd bladed pistols cradled in steady hands. Oscar stayed just behind him, scanning their surroundings with a sharpness Jaune couldn't help but envy. And Nora—well, Nora carried her rifle like it was more of a suggestion than an actual weapon, humming lightly under her breath as if the oppressive night didn't touch her at all. Her massive warhammer was being twirled in her hand without a care.

Jaune wasn't sure how she did it.

"Curious sensation, isn't it?" Nora said, breaking the silence. She spun her rifle once by its strap before settling it against her shoulder. "Like the air's heavier, outside LUCID's base."

"Probably because it is," Ren replied without turning. Jaune noticed the way his eyes constantly scanned the ruined streets. "The environment is just weird. That's the dream, for you. Weighted with time and rot."

"Weighted, huh…" Jaune muttered, his hand brushing the edge of his magazine pouch. "That's one way to put it."

Jaune was fairly prepared now, for what to expect. Beyond the training he'd received, his solo expeditions in the dream were certainly and eye opener for his future.

They walked for several minutes in silence, boots crunching against cracked pavement. The streets stretched wide, but empty, lined with skeletal remnants of cars long rusted through. Broken billboards, glass and even streetlamps, littered the place.

Every shadow seemed alive. Every gust of wind carried whispers.

"Patrol Zone C-14," Ren murmured, checking the glowing tablet clipped to his wrist. A faint map projection outlined their sector, pulsing with red lines to indicate mist density. "Our objective is to sweep three blocks east, then double back through the industrial row. Report and neutralize any Rank 0s and 1's. Nothing more."

Jaune nodded.

Nora seemed unbothered by the tension. She kicked a loose stone across the cracked road and grinned. "First patrol for Jaune! Don't worry, if anything jumps at you, just scream and spray bullets until it stops moving."

"Nora," Ren said sharply, though his eyes softened when he looked back at Jaune. "What she means is: stay calm. Controlled bursts. Don't waste your ammo. Trust us to cover you."

"Right," Jaune sighed. They were treating him as if he was fragile. "I got it. I won't be panicking. This isn't really my first rodeo in the Dream, you know."

Ren gave him a brief nod of apology.

In any case, it was easier said than done.

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As they travelled further along their route, a faint sound rippled into their ears through the dark. A wet shuffle.

Ren raised his fist instantly, signaling the unit to halt.

Jaune readied his gun, heart steadily beating in his chest. His ears strained and there it was again—the unmistakable scrape of claws against stone and low, guttural breathing.

From the mouth of an alley, a shape lurched forward.

It was the size of a large dog, but twisted into something monstrous. Its body was a mess of sinew and shadow, its eyes glowing faintly red behind its white mask. A Rank 0 Grimm. Jaune remembered its name from the combat simulations.

Hound.

"Contact," Ren whispered. "One target."

Nora's grin widened. "Oh, come on. That's it?"

But Ren gestured to Jaune. "Take it."

'Me?'

"First patrol," Ren smiled, his eyes steady. "Might as well get you started on your other stats and well as train the precisions of your shots."

The creature crouched low, snarling softly. Its jaw split open too wide, dripping with black ichorous saliva. The darkness seemed to curl around it like a cloak.

Jaune raised his gun, finger hovered on the trigger. He exhaled slowly.

'Controlled bursts. Don't miss.'

The grimm barked an unholy screech-like roar and lunged towards their unit.

Jaune squeezed the trigger.

The weapon barked, muzzle flashing red under the blood moon. Bullets tore through the dream creatures' chest, splattering black ichor across the pavement. The creature staggered, then collapsed into the black ash, dissolving into nothing.

The echo of the gunfire faded into silence.

Jaune lowered his rifle slowly, slightly giddy from the dopamine release of successfully killing a grimm with his new weapon.

"…I got it," he whispered, almost disbelieving.

Nora whooped, slapping him on the back hard enough to nearly knock him forward. "Nice shot, Jauney boy! Look at you, a sharpshooting grimm-slayer, already!"

Ren nodded with approval clear in his gaze. "Good job. Remember that feeling. Control, aim and execute. Nothing more."

Jaune smiled at that. But next time, he was going to use his new sword.

Idly, Jaune reviewed the system's notifications.

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[Rank 0 Beast, Hound, slain.]

[Runes received: 10]

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[Jaune Arc]

[Rank: 0]

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Aura: 0

Will: 0

Body: 6

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Runes: 24

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Jaune's plan was simple in theory: push his Body to 10 before touching anything else.

It wasn't just pride, though there was that too. He'd watched Ren, Nora, and even Oscar move with frightening efficiency—superhuman speed, strength, and control—and he wanted that. Aura and Will could wait. Without a Rune Skill yet, adding points to Aura for rune-tech rifles would be wasted effort. As Ren had bluntly told him earlier, "With a low Aura pool, you'd barely squeeze out a couple of rounds before burning out."

So Jaune had chosen the path of the body. Muscle, speed, reflex. Something tangible. Something he could feel every time his heart pounded.

The unit's route carried them deeper into Vale's forgotten industrial blocks. The streets narrowed into shadowed canyons of cracked asphalt, rust-streaked loading docks, and empty warehouses looming like hollow giants. Broken windows gaped like teeth. Every alley seemed to breathe with waiting darkness.

They'd already culled two Hounds and a Creep—nothing serious, just practice. Jaune had begun to steady his rifle-hand, learning to exhale before each shot, watching for the unnatural twitch of Grimm movement against the shadows.

During drills earlier in the day, Ren had explained something that made everything click. Something that had confirmed Jaune's earlier theory when he had noticed how grimm would always seem to know where he was.

See, the grimm weren't hunters in the normal sense. While they could smell and track blood, they also had the ability to sense life itself. Anything living in the dream realm was like a bonfire in their senses, a blazing flare against the void of the Dream.

Awakened could learn something similar too. They could learn to sense the echo of Aura capacity and the strength of individuals through it. Grimm, though, were born with their special sense. They were drawn to life and hungry to end it.

So patrolling was less about searching for Grimm and more about waiting for them to arrive.

Jaune and Oscar rotated through kills, practicing spacing and timing. They moved in tandem as they'd drilled earlier—Oscar holding the line, Jaune covering flanks. It was starting to feel natural.

Oscar, with his Body stat of 9, was terrifying to watch. He handled his rifle one-handed at times, sweeping bursts that shredded Grimm like paper. When a Hound had leapt at him earlier, Oscar had stabbed it mid-air with a quick thrust of his short-sword and slammed it spine-first into the pavement, hard enough to crater asphalt. His movements were precise and confident—each step a reminder of the gulf between him and Jaune's own.

Jaune wasn't on his level. Not yet, at least. But at least his shots landed truer with every fight, and even his reloads felt smoother.

Ren and Nora kept their distance, their eyes were sharp but hands were idle. Rank 0 kills meant nothing to them now—no runes meant no progress. Their job tonight was to make sure the rookies didn't get eaten.

Then came the sound.

A low and resonant growl from above.

It vibrated in Jaune's chest before his ears could name it. Oscar's rifle snapped up instantly and Ren's head turned sharply skyward.

"Contact!"

From above, something massive dropped from the rooftop of a ten-story building.

The impact was strong—concrete ruptured like glass and spiderweb-like cracks raced outwards as the street buckled. Dust and debris burst into a choking cloud.

Through the haze, it emerged.

A Beowolf Alpha. The first that Jaune had ever seen, outside of simulations.

Its mask was a lupine skull that stretched into a snarl. It had large jagged teeth that glinted in the dim light of the blood moon above. Its body was corded muscle and shadowed fur, with claws long enough to carve stone into furrows. Red eyes burned with a cruel intelligence. The dream creature radiated power and command—the weight of a predator that didn't fear anything.

"Alpha!" Ren barked, twin pistols flashing into his hands. "Nora—on me!"

"On it!" Nora's grin was feral as she hefted her hammer, excitement blazing in her eyes.

The Alpha threw back its head and howled.

The rooftops erupted.

A dozen glowing red eyes ignited the darkness. The rest of the pack.

Rank 0 Beowolves poured down the buildings in a frenzy. They didn't climb like wolves, didn't even descend like hunters—rather, they scrambled downward like monstrous apes, claws carving trenches into concrete, ripping chunks of rebar and stone free as their bodies skidded and bounded down the vertical surfaces.

The night bled with noise. Screeching claws, crumbling masonry and the metallic tang of ruptured pipes accompanying falling debris. Every howl seemed to vibrate through Jaune's ribs, layered into a chorus of hunger that grew louder by the second.

Ren's voice cut through the cacophony like a blade.

"Jaune, Oscar! Clear the pack!"

The Alpha lunged first.

It hit the street like a collapsing building, claws digging furrows so deep the asphalt cracked in spiderwebs around it. Every swipe from its massive arms carried shockwaves of air that rattled the street, sending pebbles dancing and rusted trash bins toppling. Ren's pistols flashed with rapid arcs of silver, Nora's hammer swung with all the force of a crashing truck, and sparks lit the night where steel and claw met. Their clashes weren't just loud—it was thunder, quake and violence manifest.

The lesser Grimm swarmed.

"Oscar—left!" Jaune snapped, instincts rising with his pulse.

The boy was already in motion. His stats made him a storm given form. His rifle roared in precise bursts, masks splitting, limbs flying. One Beowolf leapt for his throat and Oscar seeing this, sidestepped and slashed through its neck in a clean blur. The boy then pivoted, and ended another with a single shot between its glowing eyes. It was terrifying to watch, a mixture of efficiency and perfect economy of motion, like a predator that had chosen to walk upright.

Jaune himself was locked in, pressing back-to-back with him, their movements syncing from practice. His gun tracked a shape dropping from a wall—exhale, squeeze—the round ripped through a Grimm's palm mid-leap. It crumpled in midair, momentum bouncing it across the pavement before it got up to try and fight again.

Another, closer one, lunged, faster this time—too fast for him to bring the rifle up.

His hand moved without thought, pulling free his new sword. Steel flashed. The sharp blade tore clean straight through the creature's chest, splitting it in half before the pieces even hit the ground. The two halves flopped onto the street beside him, shadows melting into ash almost instantly.

"Nice, Jaune!" Oscar barked, stabbing his short sword through the throat of another and kicking it away.

"Thanks!" Jaune shouted back, adrenaline surging hot in his chest. He wasn't dead weight. Not tonight and hopefully, never again.

But the swarm pressed harder. They came in snapping waves, silhouettes leaping from rooftop shadows, claws raking sparks off concrete, jaws lunging for flesh. Their red eyes burned like lanterns in the dark, multiplying until the street seemed flooded with them.

One lunged low, faster than his eyes could track—Jaune dropped to a knee and shoved his rifle into its chest. Three shots rang point-blank, the recoil jolting his shoulder until the beast went limp and collapsed into smoke at his boots.

"Two right!" Oscar barked.

"I see it!" Jaune twisted, firing on the blur streaking from a wall. His rounds split its mask mid-air, the creature slamming into the pavement so hard it cracked stone before disintegrating.

The street had become a warzone.

Ren and Nora held the Alpha at bay, their battle a maelstrom of sound and force. Every swing of Nora's hammer detonated like artillery, the ground spiderwebbing with cracks. Ren's pistols moved faster than sight, twin arcs of silver carving glowing streaks into the Alpha's thick hide. The beast's roars boomed through the block, drowning out even the chaos of the pack, while its claws shredded chunks of stone with every missed strike. Nora's laughter rang sharp and manic, counterpoint to Ren's measured calls. Together, they kept the monster from breaking through.

Behind them, Jaune and Oscar fought well, within the teeth of the horde. Every shot mattered and every swing meant life or death. Their backs pressed together, their circle of space shrinking with every lunge of claws and gnashing jaws.

Jaune's rifle clicked dry. His gut dropped. No time to reload.

He cursed, throwing the weapon aside, blade flashing in both hands now. The sword became an extension of his body, meeting claw and fang in arcs of desperate steel. He blocked a jaw from closing around his arm, turned, and split another's leg in a spray of black ichor that hissed before dissolving. His movements were relentless—swing after swing, deflecting, cutting and driving forward.

It was harder to kill them now that they were surrounded. He could only deflect attacks meant for Oscar's back and block those meant for his head. 

Jaune's thoughts drifted amidst the battle to what the simulation training had granted him. In beowolf packs, especially packs led by alphas, beowolves became smarter.

Their coordination, prowess and even basic physical strength seemed to increase ever so slightly when in the presence of a greater rank 1 leader class entity.

It was part of what made them pack creatures, after all.

Jaune and Oscar combined should have been enough to easily put them down, however, the fight was admittedly, more strange than it should have been. The beowolves that Oscar and Jaune were fighting were indeed stronger. But oddly enough, these ones had even more power than they should have had with only a single Alpha in their midst.

But all that meant was that Jaune couldn't afford to be weak. His new unit was counting on him.

And then suddenly, the world shook with the sound of a roar.

It was a noise like thunder that detonated above them, ripping through the night. The shockwave hit like a hurricane, blasting dust into Jaune's eyes as his body was hurled backward. He and Oscar both staggered in mid-air, bracing carefully as their metal boots skidded across the cracked asphalt and landed hard.

Jaune blinked through the haze and froze in surprise.

Another shadow had appeared—larger, darker and heavier.

A second Alpha stood on the rooftop, framed against the broken moonlight. For a heartbeat, it was still, the red glow of its eyes burning down at them with predatory certainty. Then its claws ignited with red blood-like energy.

Jagged lines of runic light flared along its talons, crackling like molten electricity. And in that instant, the beast launched itself downward in an explosion of force. The air screamed as its body cut through it, a streak of clawed destruction aimed straight for their center.

Nora turned, hammer braced in both hands, as her grin twisted into a war-cry.

The new Alpha hit her like a meteor.

The impact was cataclysmic. Air warped in a shockwave that tore across the street, blasting dust, rubble, and shattered stone outward in all directions. Nora was launched back like a ragdoll, her massive hammer barely absorbing the blow. She slammed into the side of a warehouse with bone-shaking force, the wall caving inward around her body before the whole structure groaned and collapsed in a shower of debris.

The ground quaked. The air reeked of ash.

And Jaune, through the dust-choked chaos, realized—

They might be screwed.

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Advanced chapters and character images are available on patreon.

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