Chapter 3 – Blood, Ice, and the Choice
With night approaching, I decided it was best to divide and conquer. We still needed food and some kind of shelter. Since the pup was useless when it came to building, she was on food duty while I figured out where we were sleeping tonight.
"Alright, girl, I'm not gonna last long without a decent meal and at least a half-decent nap," I said, scratching her head. "Think you can track down something edible? I'd prefer meat, but fresh fruit or berries will do in a pinch. No lizards. I'm not that desperate."
She snorted, offended, and trotted off into the woods with a huff.
"Guess she didn't like the lizard crack..."
With Nyla gone, I got to work. I gathered some of the Vorax's leftover bones and scales along with fallen branches and tried to cobble together a small shelter. It wasn't pretty, but it'd keep the rain off—hopefully.
I even strung up a few bones on some vines around our little clearing. Makeshift alarm system. Probably wouldn't stop anything serious, but at least I'd hear something coming.
The sun dipped lower. Wind picked up, and a chill crept into the air. I needed fire. I gathered some sticks, dry leaves, and kindling, then got to work with what little Boy Scout knowledge I had. Took longer than I'd like, but eventually, a small fire crackled to life.
[New Title Acquired: Little Builder]
"You think you're funny, huh?"
I rolled my eyes and circled the fire with rocks to keep the flame contained. Last thing I needed was to burn down the prime real estate I'd just claimed.
By the time the fire was steady and the shelter somewhat stable, the forest had gone dim. Shadows stretched long between the trees. The fire cast flickering orange light, making the darkness beyond feel thicker.
I scooted closer to the flames, trying to stay warm, when the bones rattled.
Movement.
I stood and turned. "Damn girl, took you long enough. What'd you fin—"
I stopped mid-sentence.
It wasn't Nyla.
A small figure stood just beyond the edge of the firelight. At first glance, she looked like an elf—three feet tall, delicate build, long ears. Her hair was pure white, like untouched snow, and her skin was a warm honey brown. Her eyes shimmered like deep blue glaciers. And around her... fog. Not from the forest—she was making it, like every breath turned the air to frost.
"Uh... hey, kid. You lost?" I asked.
She didn't answer. Instead, she took a slow step back and dropped into a guarded stance.
Shit.
I pulled up her status. Probably should've done that first. I'm new to this, sue me.
[Frost Elf – D- Rank – Level 5]
Born in the icy regions of the Wildreach, Frost Elves are natural hunters. Using their innate magic and ice affinity, they craft weapons of frost and strike with deadly precision. Highly intelligent and pack-oriented. Children are tasked with a solo hunt at Level 5 to prove their strength. If you encounter one alone... you're likely their target.
Skills:
Ice Magic (Innate)
Ice Dagger Creation Lv2
Snow Creation Lv1
Snow Hunter Lv2
Mana Aura Lv1
Dagger Combat Lv2
Bow Combat Lv1
Icy Slash Lv1
Ice Beam Lv1
Frost Aura Lv3
Stats:
STR: 10
DEF: 7
AGI: 20
MP: 200
HP: 75
INT: 100
LUCK: 10
Tameable: Yes
Taming Compatibility: High
Warning: This monster is stronger than you. Threat Level: High.
"Whoa," I muttered. "That's a lot of skills... and she has magic? Seriously? I can't use magic yet—how's that fair?"
She stepped forward, cautious but deliberate.
I sighed, then slid into my southpaw stance. She may have looked like a kid, but the system said she was dangerous.
So I wasn't holding back.
⸻
She rushed me—fast. Faster than Nyla.
I intercepted her with a jab. It landed, halting her advance, but did little more than surprise her. She stumbled back, eyes narrowing. I pressed forward—four quick jabs in a row, all connecting.
Then I shifted weight to my back foot and drove a left straight toward her face.
She parried with ease, redirecting the blow to the side. Smooth.
I spun the momentum into a right hook—Champion Hook.
She ducked under it and countered with a spinning kick to my ribs.
Thud!
Pain shot through my side, but I stayed upright. She was fast and precise, but I'd been hit harder in sparring. Barely.
Hand-to-hand wasn't her strong suit, though. I could work with that.
I grabbed the leg she kicked with and trapped it under my arm, pulling her toward me while driving my knee into her gut. She tried to block, hands pressed to her stomach, but I still felt the impact. Her breath left her in a gasp.
I let go of her leg and launched a flurry—four Champion Hooks, followed by a tight uppercut, then stepped back and threw a roundhouse to her head.
Crack.
She crashed to the ground, head hitting hard.
She didn't move.
I panted, waiting... watching.
Then she stirred—slow, ragged. Blood dripped down her face from a cut above her eye. Her chest rose and fell, her breath fogging the air.
Still breathing. Still fighting.
⸻
Suddenly, the temperature dropped.
My skin prickled. My breath came out in thick fog.
She was doing this.
Her eyes glowed, fierce and cold. The air shimmered around her—ice crystals floating on the wind.
She raised her hands, palms open.
Frost swirled in her grip, forming two curved daggers.
Shit just got real.
I grabbed the Vorax claws from my belt and dropped into a defensive stance.
She crouched low, then sprang forward like a bullet, blades outstretched. Too fast to block—I sidestepped.
She pivoted mid-move and slashed at my leg.
I jumped back, dodging the first, but the second caught me across the chest. Shallow—but cold.
Real cold.
The ice embedded in the wound made it sting worse than it should've. I winced, staggering.
She pressed the advantage, slashing fast. Her strikes were precise, wild, angry. Nothing vital—yet—but they added up. I couldn't keep this up.
Then I saw it.
An opening.
She swung wide—too wide.
I parried with my left claw, then brought my right down toward her head.
She jerked back—too late.
The blade caught her across the face. A diagonal slice from above her left eye to her cheek.
She screamed and leapt back, blood streaming from the wound.
Her beautiful, childlike features twisted in rage.
She dropped her daggers. They shattered on impact.
⸻
Her scream echoed through the trees.
The air got colder.
Her hands began to shimmer, brighter than before.
She raised one toward me, muttering something in a language I didn't understand. The wind howled around her.
Then—
BOOM.
A flash of blue-white light. A surge of power.
I didn't move. Couldn't. I just stared as the Ice Beam barreled toward me.
"Dead in less than 24 hours," I muttered. "Is that a record?"
I laughed, bitter and breathless, and closed my eyes.
⸻
CRASH!
I was hit.
Flung backward into the brush. My arm and leg instantly went numb—covered in a thin sheet of frost.
I coughed blood. Vision blurred. My body screamed.
But I was alive.
Barely.
I staggered up, limbs shaking. Pillars of ice now stood where I'd been moments before. Just a glancing blow, and it still wrecked me.
If she hit me dead-on, I'd be ice dust.
Where was she?
I stumbled toward the clearing.
She was there.
Collapsed. Face down. Unmoving.
Breathing—but barely.
I fell to my knees beside her. My hands trembled. I reached for her throat.
End it. I had to. If she woke up first, I was done for.
But my body wouldn't obey.
I had nothing left.
The system chimed.
Tame Frost Elf? Y/N
I looked down at the girl—bruised, bloodied, exhausted.
"You're lucky, kid..." I muttered, finger hovering over the screen. "I don't have the heart—or the strength—to finish you off."
I selected Yes and collapsed beside her.
As darkness closed in, I heard barking in the distance—Nyla.
But my body didn't care.
I was already gone.