Knives & Levels - Chapter 103

Nate kept moving forward. Every step through the cold wasteland around him was challenging, yet each movement was vital. He had an ally on his back. He ignored the creaking of his legs and the spike of pain in his arm from the wolf bite a day before.

Those would heal as his Forge Edict remade muscle and skin, molding them tougher than before. All he had to do to succeed here was endure.

Still, leaving behind friends left a bad taste in his mouth. They weren’t strong enough, he wasn’t strong enough. Not yet.

Very soon, he couldn’t even hear scuffling behind as Sarah and Julia worked to delay whatever manner of illusion or secondary form of Yeti that had come after them. That lack of information was concerning, and he forced himself to concentrate. Telling himself that it didn't matter. He had a mindset of steel, plodding forward despite the travesties around him.

"We're fucked," Nick said, shaking on his shoulder. "I can't believe they threw themselves away for us. God damn it. They're gonna die, and then we're gonna die, too."

Nick complained as Nate moved forward. The guy’s foot was still bleeding, and even now, Nate felt the warm liquid running down Nate's leg as it dropped from the open wound. With a wound like that, Nick wouldn’t get far at all. Hell, even if they found their cave and patched it up, he'd have some mobility issues for the coming days. It was a good thing, then, that as an Archer, as long as they set him up in the correct position, it didn't matter how agile he could be.

“This is pointless.” Nick continued.

Shut up. Nate thought, trudging forward.

“My fucking foot…”

“Enough!” Nate shouted back at him, having to raise his voice to cut through the thickening swell of wind and frost all around them.

The blizzard was in full swing around them, as if in reaction to the conflict, as thicker mist and snow erupted everywhere, let loose by the glacier with a wild glee. They had lost all contact with their allies in the hazy red light and with limited visibility. And though Nate strained to hear any sign of what was going on… Nothing. They were locked in combat. Conflicts that had arisen from soldiers willing to risk their lives to protect their comrades.

Nate had felt bad for Nick. Nate felt bad that he had taken the Edict from Csaba. He even felt bad when he failed the first icon quest it had given him: conquer new Nashville. It wasn't a step he was willing to take, and after they had fought New Nashville, the quest had still been there. A temptation, a lingering sensation that promised that if he caved in and took power for himself, he would be rewarded. But he had resisted because he wasn’t that kind of person.

And now he carried a man on his shoulder that he knew, without a single doubt, wouldn't have resisted such a temptation. Nick was in it for himself. There wasn't anything wrong with that. To be selfish in a world like this meant to have self-preservation, which meant he lived. But there were times when one had to transcend that. And seeing the noble sacrifices that his companions had been willing to make today, he would not tolerate this selfish man demeaning their very essence and the gift they had given him.

"If they die," Nate said, "they die for you,” continuing to plod through the snow and wind.

Thankfully, with that, Nick went silent.

But inside, despite trying to steel his mind to the situation… Nate didn’t feel done. He’d carried around a guilt for this man for so long. And things hadn’t gotten better. "This cannot continue. If it's just you and me, and you continue on this way, then we'll fight again because I would rather we have our final conflict with the resentment you're holding onto. Better we die here together in the snow-barren wasteland at odds than to fight at the side of a man unwilling to acknowledge what others have done for him. Your mission is selfish. All you need to see it is to look behind you and see what your allies did for you. I’m sick of this.”

Nate kept walking as fast as he could, practically jogging, but it was dangerous in the heavy snow area around him and with limited visibility. He knew that surrounding them were spines of ice, and a single slip would be all it took. His attention was on his feet. His skin was numb. Rapidly retracing his steps and trying to piece together a mental map of their area around him. Hard to do in a blizzard.

Nate had been an okay soldier. Could one say they were a good soldier when they didn't like what they were doing? Nothing Nate had done had liked him. He'd done it because he had to. He joined the army because he'd been kicked out of his home at the age of 18, and he had nowhere to go.

After his service, he joined the kitchen because his opportunities were limited in Nashville, and it was an easy job. Then, he fell into complacency.

He'd chosen the path of a cook because he knew that he could work with his hands. And now, with things so switched in this world, that experience as a soldier—as a man willing to take orders and willing to look out for others and defend them—he’d fallen back onto the same path, only now it felt worthwhile. Nate pitied Nick, but Nate was done tolerating Nick.

"I should have been better," Nick complained, once more setting off the anger inside of Nate. That was it. Nate dropped him from his shoulder, hearing the man give out an "oomph" as he fell into the cold snow below. He looked betrayed as he stared up at Nate. His mouth was wide, gaping, as he stared at the man.

"Me, me, me," Nate said, anger rising throughout him, feeling his Edict course through his skin. It was always about him. This man had always looked out for himself, no matter what the people around him did to help him.

Nick was shocked, but in Nate’s opinion, he shouldn’t be. This was a long time coming.

"You could be friends with us," Nate said. "We've given you chance upon chance, and I thought things were turning around with your ability to come into this dungeon and work with us. But here we are on the precipice of a disaster that threatens the life of our companions, and you're just concerned about yourself. I'm not going to carry you any further, soldier. You're going to drag yourself to the cave, or you're going to die in this frost because I am not going to risk the lives of my allies behind me fighting for you when you're not a person worth us saving.”

It was harsh. He'd been given his orders. He knew his commands and his duties. But in the face of what he just witnessed here, this disloyalty from this man didn't make it worthwhile. If they were going to die here, Nate would do it on his own terms. He’d rather go out working with the people he'd survived so far with than sacrifice his time and life for a man who wasn’t worthy.

Nick stared up at him, his jaw shuddering with the cold. "What do you mean?"

Nate flexed his muscles, feeling his wound on his arm give a sore protesting ache, as the steel cords within unfurled. 

Nate cleared his throat.

"I'm going to go back. I'm going to make sure that Sarah and Julia are fine. And then, if you're still here, maybe we'll come and save you. But they are the ones I'm going to make sure to get to the cave. You are not worth my time. And I think we've made a mistake protecting you. We should have left you in that cell, or sent you walking.”

Maybe it wasn't fair. The stress, the anger, the danger in the air, along with the feeling that the walls were closing in on them in this damn dungeon. For him, the stress is too much. Nate was a patient man, but patience had its limits. Nate felt within him a cold steel form. A knowledge that he was aligning with the person he was meant to be. But with it came the warmth of a fire in his gut. This was the right course of action.

A notification appeared as he paced back the way he came, following the trail of blood to go and assist Julia and Sarah. His soul harmonized with it, and his eyes widened.

———

Edict Gained: Astral Flame (Minor) 

You’ve achieved a minor understanding of another principle of reality. This is a manifestation of the fire that burns between stars. A cold, principled heat that doesn’t require oxygen to burn. As it’s not a conventional fire, but rather 

———

Nate stopped, feeling a warmth in his hand; he stared down at the blue fire erupting there, pushing back against the cold and blizzard around him. Feeling with it, a connection to the stars above. He closed his fist around the fire, letting it blaze brighter.

The skies had seen fit to give him what he needed for turning back to defend his friends. Arming him with the right weapons. Nate closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He would do what needed to be done.

###

From the second the Yeti appeared and let out its Edict-shaking roar, Colt knew he was dealing with a different beast entirely. His first action was to fire off an Inspect when he closed the gap and got near the boss.

———

The Abominable Snowman - Level 99

Description: The Abominable Snowman, or the Yeti, as some people might have called it, is a natural predator of the Himalayan Mountains' environment. But it is a being that transcends that, a force of snow and death and an icon of survival in even the harshest of places. This creature is legendary for both its strength and its ability to disappear and evade capture.

That is, when it doesn’t want to be seen. When it chooses to make its face known on those snowy mountains far above… Well, those who see it end up being the ones never seen again.

Noteworthy Skills: 

Frozen Mantle [Epic] - Level 31

Ice Spawn [Rare] - Level 29

Icy Pelt [Rare] - Level 29

Water Magic [Uncommon] - Level 28

Edicts:

Blizzard (Greater)

Chill (Greater)

Rend (Greater)

———

Level 99. At the threshold of hitting a level of a hundred, it had three Edicts, each of which was at the rank of greater. They didn't seem very wonderful to deal with either, but nonetheless, Colt knew his goal was to survive, distract, and hopefully do damage.

The Yeti strode forward as it walked through the broken ice wall. Colt met it head-on, vanishing and reappearing in front of it using his Movement. Cut was already good to go, his Edict wrapped on his dagger, and he sliced it through the air, only for the wave of golden light to slam against the icy pelt of the monster and stop. Barely penetrating him.

As expected.

Just like the wolf, cutting through that skill, Icy Pelt was difficult with such a level gap. If one added in the fact that it had a whole double set of Icy-based Edicts reinforcing the skill…

How was he supposed to do this thing?

The monster roared at him; the world came to a frozen hell.

Anger, pure, unadulterated hate, and anger fueled in one single noise as its veins opened and its jaw hinged. A blizzard hit, spinning Colt back and throwing him from the beast as if he’d just been slammed by a truck. His back slid against ice on the slope, as a gale burst forward and pushed against him, turning his body into a rag doll as it tossed him away.

Colt released his grasp of Movement, opting to switch instead to Momentum as his body tumbled and fell. In a second, his control over where his body was going was once more back in his hands. He stopped skidding in the death roll that sent him tumbling against the harsh, icy ground, and which, in a couple of minutes, would leave him stabbed by one of the hundreds of thousands of spikes of ice.

His body stopped, as if grasped by the hand of god itself and held for a second.

Frozen on the slope for the briefest of seconds, he released his hold on himself. His body once more returned to physics. However, with arrested momentum, he plopped on the ground instead of continuing the death tumble.

Colt sprang back on his feet. His skin was frozen, and his breath came out in a pure fog of white from the sheer overwhelming power.

The Yeti was still heading towards him, a short distance away. The swirling blizzard around it only increased in intensity, forming almost a second layer of defense against him and the environment on top of that Icy Pelt beneath. Flakes of snow and even shards of ice were collected, swirling around in a visceral cycle of death that promised anyone who dared to come too close would fall to their demise.

Oh shit. Colt thought.

This demon of a creature was more than he bargained for. Even closing in the distance would normally be impossible for anyone, given the gale of ice around it. Anyone normally rushing in would be rushing into a death sentence.

True.

Phantom’s Gambit might get him past it… But then what? There was a difference between this beast and Denny. With the way the shards of ice whipped around in constant movement, it was not static. Now and again, they smashed into the beast and did nothing. The control over the Edicts and the Ice was on a different level.

So, Colt couldn’t get in for a direct attack.

Whatever, this was a waiting game then. As the Yeti moved, it did so at a relatively slow rate.

The Yeti swirled closer, and Cold put more distance between himself and the monster in response, drawing it further out. If he couldn't defeat this thing by tearing it apart, which had been a long shot anyway, given all he knew, and since it was a level 99 boss, then what that left for him was the tried and true tactics of hitting and running.

Cold spun his knife and sped forward, closing the distance between him and the creature. And then, after coating it thick with his Cut casting it with a golden glow, he threw the knife forward, infusing quite a bit of movement in it. Within a split second, it shot like a bullet straight through the gale around the monster. At such speeds, not even the blizzard wind could divert it from its course, and it crashed against the Yeti's side, cracking against the pelt, and drawing no blood.

But it did piss the monster off.

The monster roared as the knife spun free. Colt switched his Edicts once more, switching from Movement to Momentum, and grabbed the knife out of the air with his Edict.

He yanked the weapon using precise controls over the Edict to get it right to his hand, and using his superior dexterity to catch it once it reached him. Though he no longer had the soul knife that would return at will, this—his ability to throw with Movement and control the resulting tumble forward with Momentum—functioned quite well.

…Wait, his attack had drawn blood? He saw it there, a patch of darkened fur. Nearly not there at all. Even though it was level 99, it could bleed from a superior cut. That much, it seemed, was a promising turn of events. If something could bleed, it could be killed. If something could bleed, he could harass it enough for it not to utterly dominate him in a fight.

A grin came across Colt’s face as he saw a way forward. Maybe then, this wasn't impossible. Maybe then, this could be death through a thousand cuts. With his heavy investment in soul, he could wield his Edicts for quite some time.

In response to the wound, the gale around the Yeti grew clear. Pieces of ice started to condense around its pelt, forming into something. 

Shit. Colt thought once more for maybe the fifth time today, as the pieces of ice slotted in with one another against the Yeti's skin, turning into what appeared to be something like a frozen knight’s armor. 

As he felt his knife in his hand, it gave another beat. Cutting through its skin had been one thing, but if it used Edict-infused armor at a level 99, that would be much harder… Was this simply a more advanced form of Icy Pelt?

It had immediately countered his one ray of hope.

“Right back to the first plan.” Colt threw his Knife again, and it cracked against the Armor. With a quick shift in Edicts, he caught it out of the air with Momentum and spun it back to his hand as he ran.

The gale increased around him, sapping his strength as the Yeti threw more of its Edicts out into the world; in response, Colt Cut through the wind by enwrapping his body with a thin sheen of gold. This wasn’t going to be a quick battle, and that meant it wasn’t what he excelled at. Long, extended combat of attrition was the antithesis to his whole build. Simply put, the Yeti was a bad matchup for him.

“Whatever.”

He didn't need to win, he reminded himself. Better to bury that competitive edge, which would only lead him to more danger here. Without fear to temper him, and with Nike's influence on him, it was hard not to see this as another challenge, when his objective here wasn't to win.

Just buy time. Colt thought.

He avoided a massive shard of ice shooting towards his position. The shard speared through the mountain and cleaved through the ground, leaving itself embedded like a massive ice sculpture in the landscape.

All you have to do is live and buy time.

Colt reminded himself one more time. Hoping, against all odds, that his allies would be able to get themselves safely away from this sooner rather than later. He was hoping that he would be able to hang on to enough strength to save himself when all was said and done.