"You've got to be kidding me." Ryan muttered, caught between a rock and a hard place.
Going down the slope would mean being enslaved. A terrible outcome.
Going up the slope would mean surrendering to a violent death. An outcome just as terrible.
"Can I even fight again?" He looked at his own arm. A few poorly done bandages barely covered two deep, bloody holes. And that wasn't even counting the countless smaller wounds Ryan had been enduring all this time.
He sighed. "Let's hope the battle is already over." He then gave a couple of pats on the shoulder of the hunched-over slave who was vomiting. He lifted his eyes toward Ryan. "I'm counting on you… use the sword well." He swallowed hard and nodded.
Drawing his blade, the slave followed as Ryan advanced with slow, heavy steps toward the cave. He knew he wouldn't survive another confrontation. Even so, he didn't expect anything less than severe punishment from the slavers. Ryan had already indirectly killed at least a dozen of them. He could imagine their fury when they found him.
"How disgusting…" Ryan covered his nose at the sight of blood stains all over the cave entrance, along with dozens of cuts carved into the hard stone. He crouched down and examined them. "Blade marks… and claw marks." He studied the claw marks closely.
Within moments, he realized that the creature's paw was at least as large as his own body. His eyes turned toward the dark depths of the cave, tense.
Two black, gleaming eyes stared back at him.
Ryan faced them in silence, while the slave raised his sword in front of him, ready for battle. His body trembled, yet he still advanced with his blade.
Ryan, however, simply snorted. He straightened up, reached out, and pushed his companion's sword down. Leaving him disoriented. Then he continued deeper into the cave, his eyes scanning every corner with seriousness. But at the same time, without fear.
Soon, his foot stumbled over something. He lowered his gaze.
A corpse.
Covered in brutal wounds, it stared at him with a desperate expression. Ryan quickly noticed two ears similar to his own, but white. His clothing, made of pelts, could only be described as barbaric.
"I suppose this is what they call a Glacial Wolf." The slave behind him nodded, scared. "I admit, I expected more from them."
Ryan's eyes soon spotted a dozen more scattered throughout the cave, each in worse condition than the last. All dead. Meanwhile, the beast, the hunter and killer, remained still, merely watching him. Or at least that's what it seemed at first glance.
Ryan didn't need to think hard to guess what it was.
A Glacinata Bear, a living calamity.
And that… could only be described as impressive.
Each paw was the size of a man, and it had six of them, along with a colossal body. On top of that, ice crystals spread through its fur, forming something like a natural armor.
Ryan didn't need anyone to tell him this was a calamity. It was obvious to anyone who saw it.
"I guess we should be grateful it's asleep," Ryan said expressionless as the slave swallowed hard.
"You think so?" a new voice said, excited, before bursting into laughter. "If I were you, I'd be thanking every god in the sky for my luck, I'd even offer them my firstborn!"
The slave immediately stepped forward, pointing his blade as soon as they located the source of the voice.
Leaning against the wall, riddled with severe injuries, was a survivor of the attack.
A young-looking woman, not much older than twenty, with two braids in her white hair.
"Should I kill her?" the slave asked.
Ryan merely observed her in silence. The woman, however, didn't seem to grasp the mood and quickly spoke:
"You're a wreck too, aren't you?" She looked at Ryan's arm, then glanced over his many wounds, her eyes settling on his bruised nose and then on his defiant eyes. "You'll be dead soon as well." She chuckled softly before continuing.
"But at least you can be proud of yourself. You, a son of summer, managed to come this far into this frozen hell." She kept laughing. "I'm sure your ancestors have never seen anything like this. A man with real guts has certainly never been born among them."
Ryan frowned, but the woman kept talking.
"And to think that among those cowards, something like a warrior would emerge…" She smiled mockingly. "Are you sure you're not a bastard of winter? At least your women might have good taste."
She laughed again and opened her mouth to continue, but Ryan sighed.
"Are you never going to die?" he said, looking at her severe injuries. The others had died from far less, compared to them, she almost seemed vigorous.
"Oh! I've always been known for my tenacity," she replied bluntly. "Believe me, you'll die much before I do."
He sighed and grabbed what remained of his supplies.
Soon, he lit a fire and, grabbing an unfortunate wolf, began preparing his meal.
"What a delicious smell," the woman murmured, while the slave kept his sword pointed at her, afraid. "It smells so good I almost stood up…" She then glanced at the bear at the back. "If even I, half-dead, almost got up, what about our sleepy friend? Aren't you afraid it'll wake up and snatch that from your hand?"
Ryan kept preparing, unconcerned. "It doesn't take a genius to know you did something to it."
She chuckled softly.
"Looks like you think highly of me," she said, tilting her head. "Although I did do something, it won't last long. Certainly not long enough. That bear is sleeping under a mediocre spell and will wake up soon. And even if you run right now, it's faster than you and has an incredible sense of smell. You'll be caught. Your death has already been decided. So enjoy your last meal, lost son of summer."
Ryan simply continued preparing the meat, unbothered. There was no point worrying about something he couldn't change. In fact, his biggest concern right now was his arm.
After eating calmly, Ryan removed the bandages from his arm and saw exactly what he feared. He sighed as the woman against the wall laughed harder.
"See? I told you. You're going to die," she said. "With an arm like that, there's no way you'll survive."
Ryan stared at her in silence.
His arm was sick. The wound had become infected.
This time, he didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to treat it, so the only alternative he could imagine…was amputation.
Something he definitely wouldn't do.
After all, dying from infection and dying because he couldn't fight without an arm led to the same result.
He leaned his head back and sighed. "So this is where it ends…"
The woman smiled broadly at that and began to laugh softly.
"What's so funny?!" the slave snapped, ready to silence her once and for all.
"Everything!" the woman said, amused. "Hey! Bastard of Winter! Let's make a deal!"
[ New Quest Unlocked: Lost Son of Winter ]
[ Details: %@&#)$_!(@ ]
[ Reward(s): @(#Y$)(!+@* ]