Hunter of Zero (Bloodborne/Familiar of Zero) ch. 3

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Guiche Chevalier de Gramont shivered, his breath shallow and uneven as he stared at the headless forms of his Valkyries strewn across the earth. His summoned creations, his pride and joys, symbols of the Gramont talent, lay split in twain, twitching twice before going still right before his eyes. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest that it drowned out every other sound around him. The courtyard filled with muffled sobs and the cries of his peers watching in horror. His beloved Montmorency screamed his name, her voice cracking as others restrained her. But no one dared to intervene for Guiche was on his back, the cold ground pressing against him and a shadow looming over him. His fingers dug into the earth, terror in his chest. 

Something thudded against his chest. His wand.

"Pick it up," the Good Hunter said, his voice calm.

Guiche's chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths shallow as he hyperventilated. His trembling fingers brushed against his wand but recoiled as though it burned him.

"Pick. It. Up," the Hunter repeated, his tone firm but eerily composed.

The weight of the command pressed down on Guiche, heavier than any spell he had ever encountered. He looked up, meeting the Hunter's eyes or, rather, the void where they should have been. For a brief moment, Guiche saw nothing but unrelenting emptiness staring back at him.

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"Today is a rest day, so we are doing nothing," Louise proclaimed.

The courtyard buzzed with life. Mages chatted with their peers, familiars lingering nearby in quiet devotion. Birds sang overhead, the sun glimmered warmly, and for once, Louise's familiar had shed his heavy coat, letting it drape over his arm like a folded towel. Yet, he still clung to his neck gaiter and tricorne hat, indifferent to the heat. Louise glanced up at him, frowning.

"Don't you ever get hot wearing all that?" she asked.

Her familiar blinked, as though hearing the concept of heat for the first time. His brow furrowed in brief thought before he shook his head. "No, it's fine. My body regulates itself well."

Louise stared at him, incredulous. "That...doesn't make any sense."

"Why is the sky blue?" he countered suddenly. "Or why do birds fly?"

Louise groaned, massaging the bridge of her nose. "Freak."

"You have no idea," he replied, the faintest hint of amusement curling behind his gaiter. Louise sighed as she turned away, spotting an empty table under the shade of a tree.

"We sit there," she commanded, marching ahead with her cloak fluttering behind her. She claimed the seat with exaggerated authority, crossing her arms as she settled in. One eye peeked up at her familiar, who remained standing. Despite herself, Louise couldn't help but study him. His manners were infuriating, but not improper. His clothing was rich, far beyond what any commoner could afford. Even his accent was unlike anything she'd heard before, and the Academy hosted students from across the continent. Her peers were busy tending to their own familiars, just as they were supposed to, but Louise couldn't ignore the curiosity gnawing at her.

"We're supposed to get to know each other," she muttered at last.

Her familiar nodded, setting his coat and hat on the table before standing at attention. "What do you wish to know?"

"Your..." Louise hesitated. "Your name, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

Irritation flared. "Yes, your name. I've decided to be gracious and ask."

"How kind of you," he said with a smile that was maddeningly smug.

"Answer the question!" she growled.

His laugh was quiet, almost teasing. He shook his head before replying, "I've been referred to by my title for so long that I've forgotten my name. In that case, you may call me by that."

Louise straightened in her chair, her interest piqued. "Ti...title?" she echoed, blinking. For an instant, panic rose in her chest. Had she summoned a fellow aristocrat by mistake? That would be a diplomatic disaster in the making.

"Oh yes," he said, before introducing himself "I am The Good Hunter."

Louise blinked in confusion. "The...Good Hunter?"

"Yes," he replied, the weight of his words settling like a shadow. "I was part of an order sworn to hunt things of the night. Nasty, deadly creatures that would eat you for dinner and still be hungry." He paused, before adding. "Beasts," 

Louise's gaze drifted to his coat, taking in its weight and the bandoliers strapped across it, as well as the sturdy greaves he wore. Her eyes narrowed. "You have no weapons," she pointed out.

"I still have access to them," he assured her calmly. "So if it comes down to a fight, my lady, you will remain well protected."

"Really?" Louise deadpanned. "Is your weapon the air?"

"Perhaps," he replied with a faint smirk. "I shalt huff, and puff, and blow your enemies away."

"I feel safer already," she snarked, rolling her eyes. Crossing her arms tighter, she paused before continuing. "So...this Order of yours. What was it like?"

Her earlier fear resurfaced: What if he was a noble? Only nobles could join knightly orders, after all. The thought made her chest tighten. Her betrothed was a Gryphon Knight in the capital: dutiful, honorable, everything a knight was supposed to be. 

"A rich experience," The Good Hunter replied with a cryptic smile. "Though we often hunted alone. I joined for its excellent healthcare program. I was desperately sick at the time."

Louise blinked. That was...unexpected. It wasn't unheard of for nobles to join orders for personal benefits rather than duty or honor. But still, to admit it so openly?

"You admit to being shameless?" she asked, her tone sharp and disapproval sharper.

He shrugged. "Is it truly shameless to want to survive? I was dying, after all. Though, if I knew what I was signing up for..." His voice lowered, a shadow passing over his features. "I'd have rather died instead."

A chill crawled up Louise's spine. She hesitated before asking, "...Why?" Part of her regretted the question, but curiosity won out.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "A story for another time," he said, ending the matter with a finality that left no room to press further.

Indignation flared, replacing her unease. She wanted to know. She was giving him the time of the day to hear him out and he dare close her out? But before she could demand more, a sudden crash rang out. The sharp sound of glass shattering echoed across the courtyard, followed by an imperious, haughty voice shouting, "Foolish maid!"

Louise's head snapped toward the commotion, her attention locking onto a mop of blonde hair towering over a cowering maid. Her features were exotic, her hair black, and her eyes were wide with fear. Louise sighed, seeing where this was going. The blonde's uniform was stained, cream and fruits dripping down the pristine fabric. 

"I'm sorry! P-please forgive me!" the maid cried. 

Louise sighed, already resigned to the scene unfolding. "Honestly, that idiot has nothing better to do than flaunt his so-called nobility." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

Her familiar, however, had gone still, his gaze fixed on the scene with quiet intensity.

"Are you just going to ignore this?" he asked, his voice low.

Louise raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I? It's just Guiche being Guiche. He's insufferable, but it's not my problem." 

"Is it not the duty of the nobility to protect the defenceless?" The Good Hunter asked. 

"Yet the girl committed the offense first. If anything, Guiche is within his rights to punish her," Louise countered, unbothered. Such was the Social Contract between nobility and commoner. 

A black eyebrow rose. More shouts came. Louise turned back, abuse thrown towards the poor girl. What she did not say was that there were limits. Guiche ought to have stood up, reported the incident to a noble of higher rank, confirm the issue, then he could punish her. But since when had a noble gone this far for a commoner? "Consider this kinder, familiar. In olden days, he could have her executed," Louise recalled.

"How gauche," The Good Hunter murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose in apparent disdain.

"His name is Guiche," Louise corrected.

"What's the difference?" he asked flatly.

Louise opened her mouth to argue, but no retort came. She glanced back at the scene, her dismay growing as Guiche's peers rallied around him, egging him on and hurling insults at the terrified maid.

"What he ought to do is show some grace and forgive her," Louise muttered. For all her mother's sternness, even she would never stoop so low as to publicly berate a servant for an accident. Louise watched the escalating scene, bracing herself for the inevitable snarky remark from her familiar.

But it never came. To her horror, she realized he was no longer at her side. Her gaze darted to find him already moving toward Guiche, coat and hat on. 

Her eyes widened. "Stop! Come back here!" she hissed, but the words barely left her lips before he was standing before the blonde noble.

"That's enough," The Good Hunter whispered, his voice calm yet sharp enough to cut through the noise.

Guiche turned sharply, his expression twisting into one of confusion, as though he couldn't fathom who would dare interrupt him. His eyes scanned the crowd before landing on The Good Hunter. Recognition flickered in his gaze, followed by disdain.

"You?" Guiche sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. "The Zero's familiar? And what, pray tell, do you think you're doing? This doesn't concern you."

The Good Hunter stood still, his hands folded behind his back, his eyes boring into Guiche.

"You're abusing a poor maid. Is that behaviour fitting for this country's next nobility? For shame, Monsieur Guiche," The Good Hunter chided him. 

Gasps rippled through the gathered students. Louise's breath hitched.

Guiche's sneer deepened, his cheeks flushing red with anger. "You dare speak to me like that? A familiar dares lecture me?" 

Louise stood up, quickly, and made her way to him. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and Louise tried to make herself look as small as possible. Vainly, she tried to pull him away with her petite fingers. "Familiar!" 

​But he would not budge. 

"Yes, I just did. You shame yourself, monsieur." 

The courtyard fell silent, the weight of his words settling heavily over the crowd. 

"Stop it!" Louise hissed, her voice sharp but strained, all but giving up in pulling him away. "You're making things worse!"

His eyes flicked to Louise, and a most cruel smile came to his lips. 

"Ah, but of course," he drawled mockingly. "How could I expect anything less from you, Louise? The Zero, unable to cast a proper spell...and now, unable to even control her own familiar."

Louise's face burned, her fists clenching as the gathered students snickered at Guiche's jab.

"Truly, it's tragic," Guiche continued, his voice dripping with false pity. "Summoning a common beast would've been bad enough, but instead, you get this, a disrespectful mutt who doesn't know his place. Talentless, stupid Zero!"

Louise's throat tightened, her pride warring with the humiliation threatening to overwhelm her. The Good Hunter turned his attention from Guiche, then towards the other students jeering and laughing at Louise. He saw Louise, saw the humiliation in her eyes. He knew already of course that this girl was bullied beyond all hope. Her inability to cast a spell not through any fault of her own, but from what she was truly born to be. 

"Do you stand by your words, Guiche de Gramont?" He asked carefully, his words filled with warning. 

"Of course, I do!" Guiche snapped, puffing out his chest. "And what will you do about it, you mangy cur? Challenge me?"

"Yes," The Good Hunter replied. 

The courtyard froze.

Guiche blinked, his face paling as the words registered. "W-what are you talking about? You can't possibly-"

"You have insulted my mistress, belittled her honor, and disgraced yourself in front of your peers. You will answer for it," The Good Hunter interrupted.

Guiche's lips trembled, his bravado faltering. "You can't challenge me! Only nobles can duel other nobles, and familiars like you are no more than tools!"

The Good Hunter tilted his head. "Then consider me a foreigner. Your laws mean little to me."

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and Louise felt her stomach drop. She grabbed his arm again, panic rising in her voice. "Stop it! Are you trying to get yourself killed? Dueling is prohibited! He'll report you to the headmaster!"

But The Good Hunter didn't move, his hand gently brushing hers away. "This will be over quickly," he promised her. "For the noble house of Valliere." 

"We are bringing Houses into this? Fine then!" he barked, drawing his rose-shaped wand with a dramatic flourish. "If you want a duel, I'll give you one! But don't come crying to your mistress when you lose!"

Guiche turned to the crowd, raising his voice for all to hear. "Witness this, everyone! A noble against a mere familiar, this will be over in seconds!" He flicked his wand, summoning a swirl of petals that coalesced into shining bronze Valkyries from the ground, spears glinted in the sunlight, all aimed at The Good Hunter.

The students cheered, their excitement mounting. "Show him, Guiche!" one shouted. "Put the impudent bastard in his place!"

Guiche flourished, smirking. "Your turn, familiar," 

The Good Hunter stood motionless, his gaze shifting from the bronze Valkyries to Guiche. Then, his eyes flicked toward Louise. She was on the verge of tears, her face pale with fear and embarrassment. Her fists were clenched tightly against her chest, and her voice wavered as she cried, "Stop this! You'll get hurt! You're just you! He's a mage!"

Her words hung in the air, tinged with genuine fear. For all her bluster, all her insults, Louise's concern was painfully clear. Her familiar's recklessness terrified her. After all, he was the only one who treated her with even the faintest shred of respect, however maddening it was. What if he got hurt, or worse, killed? She did not want to lose him. She did not want to be alone again. 

"Don't do this, please. Don-" Louise tried to plead but she stopped as the Good Hunter gently patted her head. His gloved hand, though rough and worn, carried an unexpected warmth.

"Be not afraid, little lady," he said, his voice calm and steady. "I will be fine."

Louise blinked, stunned into silence by the gentleness of his touch and the reassurance in his tone. She could only stare as he straightened, his coat billowing behind him as he turned to face Guiche once more.

"Soft-hearted, after all," he murmured under his breath, a faint chuckle escaping his lips.

Then, he raised his right hand, palm outward, as though grasping at the air itself. The crowd watched in confusion, unsure of what he was doing until it happened. A low, guttural hum filled the courtyard, growing louder and more menacing with each passing second. A strange light shimmered in his hand, taking shape little by little as if summoned from another world. Students gasped as the shape solidified into a massive, brutal weapon, a grotesque amalgamation of saw blades and steel, its jagged edges glinting wickedly in the sunlight. The Good Hunter gripped the weapon with both hands, its sheer weight causing the ground beneath him to groan faintly. Then, with a sickening clunk, he activated it. The Whirligig Saw roared to life, its circular blades spinning wildly, emitting a metallic shriek that sent shivers down every spine in the courtyard.

The students recoiled in shock. Some covered their ears; others simply stared, their faces pale. Unfamiliar with industrial style weapons as they were, even they recognized such a thing was not meant for men. Guiche faltered. 

"Do you still stand by your words, Guiche de Gramont?" The Good Hunter asked again, offering Guiche a way out. 

Guiche swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. He forced himself to straighten, his pride as a noble warring with the primal fear clawing at his chest. "Y-you think you can intimidate me with that...that monstrosity?" he stammered, trying to sound brave but failing miserably. "I'll show you the power of a noble!"

He thrust his wand forward, commanding his Valkyries to attack. The constructs surged forward, their spears gleaming as they lunged at The Good Hunter. The first Valkyrie struck, its spear aiming directly for The Good Hunter's chest. But before the weapon could find its mark, the roar of the Whirligig Saw reached a fever pitch, and he moved. The Good Hunter sidestepped with an almost inhuman grace, the spear grazing the air where he had stood only a moment before. In the same fluid motion, he swung the spinning saw upward, its jagged teeth catching the construct's arm. A deafening grind filled the courtyard, followed by a sharp crack as the Valkyrie's bronze arm shattered into shards of twisted metal. The construct staggered, its weapon falling uselessly to the ground. The Good Hunter pressed the assault, stepping in close and driving the saw directly into the Valkyrie's chest. The jagged teeth tore though the metal like a starved shark. 

The crowd gasped, their cheers replaced by stunned silence. The second Valkyrie hesitated, its eyes flickering as though it, too, could feel fear. But Guiche, desperate to reclaim his pride, shouted, "Attack, you fool! Attack him!"

The second construct obeyed, its hesitation vanishing as it charged forward with a powerful thrust of its spear. The Good Hunter didn't flinch. With one hand, he caught the spear mid-thrust, the force of the impact shoving him back slightly. His boots ground against grass as he held firm, his grip unyielding. Then, with a sharp twist of his arm, he wrenched the weapon from the Valkyrie's grip and snapped it in two. The broken spear clattered to the ground, and before the construct could recover, he lunged forward, slamming the spinning saw into its midsection. The Whirligig Saw roared louder, biting into the Valkyrie's torso with a ferocity that sent sparks flying. The construct's body twisted and buckled under the assault, its bronze plating peeling away like paper. The Good Hunter pulled the saw back for a moment, letting the Valkyrie stagger, its torso a mangled ruin of torn metal. Then, in a final, brutal motion, he swung the weapon horizontally, cleaving the Valkyrie's head clean off. The headless construct collapsed to the ground, lifeless. 

He turned his attention to the final Valkyrie  who lunged, faster and stronger than the others. Its spear thrust forward in a blur, each strike aimed with deadly precision. Yet The Good Hunter wove through its attacks with an almost supernatural ease, his body moving as though he were part of a deadly dance. Each missed strike left gouges in the courtyard, the sheer force of the construct's blows shattering the ground beneath their feet. The Good Hunter bided his time, waiting for an opening. When the Valkyrie overextended, he struck. With a roar of the Whirligig Saw, he brought the weapon down on the construct's spear, severing it in two with a shower of sparks. The Valkyrie recoiled, its weapon now useless. But The Good Hunter was relentless. He closed the distance in an instant, driving the spinning saw into the construct's chest. The sound was deafening, a metallic scream as the weapon tore through layer after layer of enchanted bronze. The Valkyrie writhed, its limbs flailing as it struggled to fight back, but The Good Hunter held firm, pushing the saw deeper and deeper.

Finally, with a sickening crunch, the construct's core shattered. Its body convulsed violently before going still. The Good Hunter deactivated the saw with a flick of his wrist, the spinning blades grinding to a halt. he turned from the Valkyries, then to Guiche. 

His face was pale, his body trembling. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

"The duel is not yet over," The Good Hunter reminded him as he stalked the boy. 

"W-wai-" Guiche held out his hand but the Good Hunter was upon him. The Good Hunter's boot connected with Guiche's stomach, sending him flying on his back. The boy moaned, clutching his stomach as pain erupted through his abdomen like a wildfire. The force of the kick left him gasping for air, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. His muscles clenched involuntarily, a sharp ache radiating from his core. Nausea churned in his gut, and for a moment, it felt as though the world was spinning around him.

The Good Hunter glanced down, the rose wand lying still on the grass. He leaned slightly, picking it up, before tossing it against Guiche. 

"Pick it up," the Good Hunter whispered. 

After bullying little Louise, it did not strike him as overkill to humble the child, as well those watching. They needed to know, to understand, that Louise Valliere was no longer the target for their petty cruelty. 

"Pick. It. Up," the Hunter repeated, his tone firm as he approached Guiche, fingers willing the Saw to life. Students gasped, some blonde girl screamed, but was held back by her friends. Guiche curled into a ball, shielding his eyes, whimpering. Disgust flared inside the Good Hunter as he raised his weapon, an-

"STOP!" a voice cried. 

The Good Hunter turned his head sharply toward the voice. Louise stood rigid, her small frame trembling but her eyes burning with defiance.

"I said stop!" she commanded again, louder this time, her voice cracking but resolute. The air stilled, nervous eyes exchanging between Louise and her familiar. The Good Hunter straightened, the whirring of his Saw fading to a low hum. His gaze fixed on Louise, who took a step forward despite the quivering in her legs.

"This duel is over," Louise declared, her tone brooking no argument. "You've made your point."

The Good Hunter regarded her silently for a moment, then towards Guiche who was bawling his eyes out. Shouts also came as well, the staff of the Academy rushing out with wands drawn. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the Saw stilled completely, vanishing. 

"As you command," he said, his voice low but carrying a sense of finality. He turned away from Guiche, leaving the boy trembling on the ground, and walked back toward Louise. 

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A/N: Guiche's canon event. But worse. Next up, The Good Hunter gets interrogated.