Marlon strolled alongside quiet Lyra and the talkative Ashton and Logan, moving away from the spawning point and cutting off the curious, confused looks aimed at him.
The surroundings of the Ice Grave slowly revealed themselves as they ventured deeper into it.
The place looked like an ancient town swallowed whole by frost.
Frozen houses stood half-buried in thick ice, their roofs bent under ages of snow. Crystalline trees stretched stiffly toward the pale sky, their roots clutching the frozen ground as if refusing to die.
Frost covered everything, glimmering faintly beneath the dull light of the sun. The wind hissed through the hollow streets, sharp and cold enough to slice through armor and skin alike.
Even frozen statues of humans and animals stood scattered about, trapped mid-motion. It was no wonder this place was called the Frost Grave.
Ahead and behind them, other trainees trudged through the snow, each with a single goal in mind—finding a warm zone.
The 50 HP lost per hour from the frostbite curse was unavoidable. Even Marlon's team, though they possessed a skill that weakened the cold's sting, couldn't fully escape its effect. Everyone inside the Frost Grave was suffering under the same curse.
With such conditions, those with low Vitality—like Ashton and Logan—had barely two hours to live before their health ran dry.
Fortunately, there were warm zones scattered across the land. These rare areas not only nullified the cold's bite but also restored every bit of health lost to it.
"We need to find a warm zone before anyone else does," Marlon said, his eyes sweeping the frozen expanse ahead, alert for monsters.
Logan and Ashton nodded quickly in agreement.
Lyra didn't speak, but she didn't object either. Her expression stayed calm and unreadable as she followed behind, letting Marlon take the lead without question.
Marlon led his team away from the others. He figured it was better—and far less troublesome—to move alone. That way, no one would steal their kills, and when they found a warm zone, they wouldn't have to fight anyone for it.
Unfortunately, trouble came to them instead.
A group of tall, broad-shouldered men appeared ahead, stomping through the snow to block their path.
There were four of them, each over six feet tall, their muscular builds wrapped in thick brown leather coats and heavy boots. The coats seemed to have some warming effect, as none of them were shivering despite the cold.
They stood in front of Marlon's team, blocking the way.
Ignoring Lyra completely—despite knowing who she was—they fixed their eyes on Marlon, grinning in an ugly, confident way.
"There's gotta be more where those skill books came from," said the one in the middle, taller and broader than the others. "My teammates and I would love to have some."
He had tanned skin, a bald head, and a thick beard that made him look older than he was—early twenties at most.
The other three looked the same—older faces with full beards, but their eyes still carried the raw, reckless shine of inexperience.
"I don't have any more skill books," Marlon replied calmly. "Sorry."
The leader's grin widened. "You think we're just gonna take no for an answer?"
"Of course not," Marlon said evenly, meeting his eyes. "But I'm telling you the truth. I don't have any more. Now, if there's nothing else, please move aside."
The leader tilted his head slightly, his cold eyes running over Marlon from head to toe.
He wasn't surprised by Marlon's brazen attitude; after all, he had been one of Marlon's earliest badmouthing victims back at the start of the preliminary training camp.
"If you don't have any skill books, then hand over something of value and I'll spare you," the leader said with a smug grin. "Think of it as a peace offering for insulting my dead cat."
Marlon's eyes brightened as if something clicked. He smiled faintly. "Oh, you're the guy with that tiny cat named Venom, right? How's that going for you?"
The man's grin stiffened but he quickly masked it. "As I said, hand over something valuable and I'll pretend your insults never happened. A few monster cores will do. I heard you went on a raid yesterday, so make it quick. We don't want to waste time while others are out earning contribution points. And we definitely shouldn't keep the young lady of the Whitlock family waiting."
Marlon turned to glance at Lyra.
The white-haired assassin stood off to the side, scanning her surroundings lazily, clearly uninterested in the drama unfolding before her. Beside her, Logan and Ashton looked tense—not out of concern for Marlon, but for the idiots in front of him. They already knew what Marlon was capable of.
"You do realize," Marlon said, turning back to the group with a calm smile, "that this whole thing is being broadcasted to over two hundred thousand people right now, right?"
The bullies burst out laughing.
"The Survival Matrix never said we couldn't fight each other," one of them said mockingly. "In fact, it's encouraged. It shows who's strong enough to survive and who's not."
"Yeah," another chimed in. "And if we beat you and take your ID bracelet, your contribution points transfer to us. We saw you checking it earlier—you must've gotten a good haul for those skill books."
Marlon's smile widened. Good. So killing fellow participants isn't against the rules. Let's make this interesting.
He slowly raised both hands as if surrendering and took a few steps back. "Guys, please, I don't have anything valuable on me. Don't kill me, alright?"
The four bullies exchanged confused glances.
Lyra finally turned her eyes toward them, her expression mildly curious. Logan and Ashton watched in silence, unsure what Marlon was up to.
"What are you playing at?" one of the bullies asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," Marlon said, feigning a nervous chuckle. "Just an innocent, weak guy pleading for mercy." Then his grin returned, sharp and taunting. "By the way, did anyone ever tell you those beards and muscles don't make you look intimidating? You look like virgin cavemen trying too hard to cosplay as warriors."
Their faces froze for a second—then twisted with fury.
The leader stepped forward, eyes burning. "Say that again, bastard."
Marlon didn't hesitate. He repeated the same insult word for word, this time adding an even sharper jab just to twist the knife deeper.
That did it. The leader's rage exploded. He roared and lunged, his fist flying straight toward Marlon's face.
But Marlon's body moved first. With his enhanced agility, he slipped sideways, avoiding the strike with ease. Then, with a swift motion, his right hand shot out and caught the man's forearm—the one wearing the ID bracelet.
His grip tightened, solid as iron.
Marlon turned his head slightly and gave Lyra a small signal.
Without hesitation, she moved. A flash of silver glinted in her hand, followed by a clean, precise strike.
A scream split the air. The leader stumbled back, staring at his severed wrist in horror.
His eyes snapped up just in time to see Marlon's grin. But before he could react, his entire body was wrapped in bright light—and vanished, forcefully ejected from the Survival Matrix.
The remaining three bullies froze in disbelief before anger took over their faces.
They roared and charged forward together.
Marlon and Lyra rushed to meet them head-on.
What happened next shook the entire audience watching from the coliseum.
...
SORRY FOR DELAYED UPDATE, here is 4 Chapters, enjoy (3/4)