-I do not own Fate, nor RWBY. I'm afraid that I'm not nearly talented enough for that, but hopefully some people enjoy this.

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.

The man contnued his mumbling, and Alpha focused on the fight soon to happen. "Ok, Revenant, yeah yeah yeah, oh that could explain why Alya is so weak right now... What the heck - THE MOON?! Ok, dont think about that. Grimm? Ah, so that's what you guys are!"

Alpha froze at the mans words. He was now staring into the darkness, right at Alpha, even though he had thought himself sufficiently hidden.

Well, if surprise is no longer an option... I can still distract him, and the others can attack from behind.

Alpha drew himself to his full height, and stalked into view, legs tensed and ready to lunge.

The man chuckled, his eyes narrowing. "So, you have experience. How many men and women have you killed to get that experience I wonder? How many children have been made orphans because of you?" He started twirling the twisted sword in his hand. "It also looks like you have a modicum of intelligence in you."

The man shook his head, carefully keeping Alpha within sight. "Well, that hardly matters now. Let me see, what manner of beast are yo...!"

The pack froze. They had been feeling disgust from the strange human, but it looked like he was pushing it back. The feelings of anticipation and excitement were climbing, and then they faded. To their senses, they felt him suddenly become shocked, followed swiftly by rage and anger.

His voice came once more, this time lower, and more... demonic.

"Beowolves?!"

Alpha shuddered, the pack glancing at him reflexively.

DANGER! DEATH! RUN!

"They named your kind Beowolves?!" The mans face was snarling, they could FEEL his rage growing, but something stopped them from eating it. Some instinct warning them from it.

The scarred man took a step forward, his hands clutching his swords. He had no protective Aura, but an unnatural aura had clearly shifted to appear around him. Tinted red, and while looking at it Alpha had a sudden vision of this man fighting a creature MUCH bigger than he or his pack.

The man spoke again, his snarl twisting the words. "I was renowned as the hero of the Geats!" His swords started humming, and Alpha could have sworn he heard growling come from them.

"I assisted the warriors of Dane, and through our efforts both Grendel and his mother were defeated!"

Alpha saw the vision faintly once more, with this man fighting an even larger creature than before. His tribal tattoos seemed to take on a life of their own, his scars standing out and becoming more prominent.

"With one sword entrusted to me by the Thegn Unfero, the other by Lord Hrothgar!"

One sword was red, with a twisted core, sharp ridges and serrated edges adorned its sides.

The other was larger, and though it had edges it looking more like a club than a sword. If he looked closely enough, Alpha thought he could see small cracks through it. He didn't think he would be able to add any more cracks than what were already there.

Both swords seem to crackle with energy after the man introduces them, the growl from them increasing.

HUNT THEM. PIERCE. CRUSH THE BEASTS.

"Though I died at the hands of a dragon, I took the creature with me to the abyss! " the man shouted, veins bulging from his neck, muscles tensing across his body "And this is how I am remembered? My name given to creatures of darkness? My legend forgotten?!"

RAGE. PAIN. HUNTER.

Alpha fought through the panic and leapt at the man. A flurry of combat followed, and Alpha realized that though this man didn't have Aura, he was by no means a weakling. He was fast. His instincts were screaming at him to avoid being hit by either blade, and he was doing his best to follow them. Though the club wasn't too difficult, the twisted blade was. It was as if the blade was a dog trying to rip out his throat!

The twisted sword came up faster than expected, cutting the arm, followed by the man doing an almost impossible dodge as he twisted away from the rest of the blows. Alpha watched as his blood was absorbed into the blade, and the man grinned viciously.

"Hrunting has your scent now. There's no chance of escape anymore, if there ever was."

A half-second later the rest of the pack came in and attacked. Alpha watched as the man eagerly fought back, the fury still apparent in his emotions.

He thought that with their numbers they would have an advantage. They had fought Hunters before, so this SHOULD be nothing new. Except it WAS.

The man fought with no Aura, the blood from a scratch he received proved that. Yet his speed and strength were comparable to that of a professional Hunter! His swords cut through armor like water, or crushed it like it was brittle glass. His negative emotions could be felt in an almost physical way, but they couldn't feed off of it.

Now, that's not to say that the man took no wounds. But it didn't seem to slow him down, and in fact just made him angrier.

"THIS IS ALL THAT YOU'VE GOT? HOW DID THEY GIVE MY NAME TO WEAKLINGS LIKE THIS?!"

Once they were reduced to two pack members and Alpha, he gave the order to retreat. His entire time as Alpha of the pack, and he had never done this. He had never done this the entirety of his time as a Beowolf! But it was the only option he could think of. They couldn't beat this man through regular methods, and the Queen needed to know about this. She MUST be informed.

And so all three of them leapt back and sprinted away. Alpha heard a grunt, followed by a yelp, and saw another of the pack pierced with the twisted sword, which had been thrown like a javelin. Great, he still had options for range. Alpha ran faster.

As he ran, he heard the faint voice if the man behind him.

"Wretched filth. There will be no mercy. Let me show you that though I have been classified as a Berserker, I was first and foremost, a Hunter."

Alpha shuddered at that, and forced himself to move even faster.

He just needed to keep running. There was no way the man could find them if they go far enough. They were already so far from any human villages, and the man had no provisions.

He just needed to keep running.

The man took a few deep breathes to steady his thoughts, both Hrunting and Naegling grumbling in his mind.

He had no idea why he had been summoned like this. There was no instructions, no commands. So he could hardly be blamed if he decided to keep himself occupied until his master found him.

After one more deep breath, he started forward, his skills easily picking out the path, and Hrunting pulling him along like an over-eager bloodhound.

If he had been forgotten, then he'd just have to remind everybody. A Heroic Spirit drew power from their legend after all. And what better way to reclaim the name Beowulf than to kill each and every one of those dark creatures that dared call themselves by his name.

A grin found its way on his face as he moved swiftly through the forest. They weren't Grendel. Not in strength, nor endurance. It wouldn't be easy, but he was confident in his skills.

He was Beowulf, the Beast Hunter, King of the Geats, slayer of the Earnanaes Dragon, Grendel, and Grendel's Mother, and he would not lose to mere beasts.