The crashing blow would've shattered the skull of any ordinary sleeper.
But Cain?
Cain wasn't ordinary. He bore an Aspect—one that let him survive such force, though at the steep cost of his own spirit.
He went flying, flung like a ragdoll through the thickets of snow. His body carved a trench through the snow before finally crumpling to a stop.
Silence.
Then, a drum of laughter. Low. Ragged. Amused.
He rose like some hollow revenant clawing its way out of the grave.
Smiling.
"I—I still can't f—feel anything," he rasped.
Cain stretched out one arm toward the bone scythe, half-buried in the snow, and the air cracked as skeletal limbs erupted from its handle, lifting it free before scurrying it across the ice to his waiting hand. The moment his fingers closed around the weapon, the limbs snapped back into place, folding seamlessly into the handle as he used it to push himself upright. Across the field, the pale brute let out a guttural snarl, seething at the sight of him standing once more.
Cain grinned, there was madness in his smile.
"Rough day?" his voice turned sharp. "Looks like we're both having a real shit time."
He took a step forward, scythe dragging behind him in the snow.
He gestured to himself. "This lovely little prison of mine? Doesn't let me feel a damn thing. No warmth. No cold. Not even the wear and tear of my own body."
Blue blood streaked his bare torso, staining him in a way that made him seem less like a man, more like something born of war and ruin. Flesh torn from the impact peeled back at his forehead, exposing a glimpse of bone beneath—but none of it seemed to faze him. He flung his arms wide, the scythe dangling loosely in one hand, as laughter erupted from his chest like a geyser of madness.
"But you can feel, can't you? he said, tilting his head with curiosity. "You can bleed. So bleed for me---let me taste what I've been denied! Give me that luxury!"
The two brutes bellowed as if in defiance of Cain's very words. The male brute took a step forward, then began a rumbling charge straight at him.
But Cain remained still, unflinching, untouched by pain of the injuries that would be imposed on his physical body. In his mind, he was already beyond reach of mortality.
Evan on the other hand was already moving, a roar tore from his throat as he met the charge of the brute head-on, swinging his warhammer with all the force he could muster.
The weapon slammed into the brute's bloated gut, burying itself in its horrid flesh with a sickening crunch. The impact created a tremendous shockwave that halted the beast mid-sprint, lifting its massive frame off the ground before it crashed down beside the female brute in a heap of ruptured meat.
Evan stood frozen, briefly stunned by the sheer power behind his own strike—then, without warning, a crushing wave of exhaustion fell upon him, forcing him down to one knee.
His fists clenched on instinct as a searing burn tore through his limbs, his own body had begun cannibalizing his muscle for energy.
Cain blinked slowly, then glanced down at him with something resembling approval. Without another word, Cain turned and strode forward, eyes fixed on the female brute with murderous glee in his expression.
Behind him, Evan groaned as he hauled himself upright. "Let's just finish this," he muttered, voice tight with fatigue. "No more reckless games."
Cain smiled without turning. "Maybe you're not so useless after all."
He twirled the scythe with a flick of his wrist, the blade singing through the air. Then he leveled it at the female brute. "I was starting to feel so lonely, glad you finally decided to assist me in bathing this field in blood." He smirked devilishly.
Evan staggered to Cain's side, his breath ragged. "I've got one more left in me," he rasped, coughing hard enough to taste iron.
Cain didn't look at him, but his expression softened just slightly. "Then let's make it count."
Cain charged first, traveling across the snow ahead of Evan. The female brute raised her engorged arms to strike—but Cain slid, appearing on her flank with his scythe already mid-swing. The blade tore through her arm, slicing deep into the sinew and spraying blue blood in a wide arc.
She howled, turning to strike at him with her other arm—only to find Evan barreling into her from behind, his hammer lifted high. He brought it down on her back, forcing her to one knee. Snow shot out in a circle from the impact, trees groaning due to force.
Cain didn't hesitate, ensuring the brute was slain. He spun and leapt, vaulting over the brute's hunched form. As he soared above her, he twisted midair and drove his scythe down, embedding it deep into the base of her skull.
The brute's body gave way, and she slammed into the snow and jerked violently, spasmed once---before finally ceasing, the spell's voice announcing to Cain that the creature was slain.
[You have slain an Awakened Monster, Blizzard Brute.]
Evan doubled over, choking. His hammer slipped from his grasp, landing in the snow with a muffled thud. Every muscle in his body seized. He lifted his trembling hands, watching in horror as his fingers twisted and curled against his will. Agony tore through him, like a wildfire racing under his skin. He could feel his muscles wasting away, bit by bit. The damage might have been slight, but the pain was merciless.
Cain watched Evan writhe, waiting for the worst of the pain to pass before speaking. "Damned flaws, am I right?" He flashed a smirk to lighten the mood and offered a hand to help him up.
Evan shook his head. "If it was just a flaw, I wouldn't be so damn surprise," he muttered. "It's probably the hammer... Never had anything like that happen before."
Cain patted him on the back. "You're alive, at least, right? Oh---and by the way, that thing was an Awakened creature. You took out the first one with a single hit! You pack one hell of a punch, man."
They turned back looking at the dead female brute. Its body was crumpled, folded backward impossibly.
Now that the creature was slain, they could much easily see how large this female brute was, although she was smaller than her male counterpart, she still was the largest nightmare creature's the two have ever faced, easily towering over Zerin's Howler by a few feet and being three times as wide as the fanged beast.
Now that the creature was slain, they could easily see how large this female brute was, although she was smaller than her male counterpart, she was still the largest nightmare creature the two have ever seen so far, easily towering over Zerin's howler and being three times as wide as that fanged beast. Its body was crumpled, folded backward impossibly---evidence of Evan's hammer clashing against the creature's spine, clearly severing it in half with just the impact alone.
"Shit! I didn't realize how hard you hit her, remind me to not cross you ever in a fight." Cain punched his shoulder before venturing toward the slain creature.
Evan could only stand there, the pain of Evan's punch, hardly present, due to the overbearing pain that was pulsing through his body with every beat of his heart.
"Care for some core diving?" Cain shouted loudly while continuing his stride.
Disgust filled Evan's face due to Cain's words. "I usually leave those kinds of things to the girls."
"A sensitive stomach... Well, you did your fair share, just go sit down and rest, I'll deal with it, since I actually rather enjoy this part the most." Cain said, shifting his bone scythe into a blade.
Evan turned away, letting him work. The wet squelch of flesh grated against his ears, making his nose wrinkle in disgust. Fortunately, the cold air dulled the stench of the large, horrid creature.
Cain was quicker than expected. After a short while, he emerged from the Blizzard Brute's corpse, soaked in its gore, four Awakened cores clutched in his hand. He handed two to Evan, and together they consumed them, feeling power ignite and spread through their bodies.
Just as they began to gather themselves, thinking the dust had finally settled, a heavy thump cut through the silence, snapping their attention to the source. Through the fog, where the first brute had fallen, a luminescent glow pulsed—slow and steady—like the beat of a massive, unseen heart.
"Is that bastard not dead?" Cain spoke staring where the male brute fell.
Evan's eyes widened as realization struck. His training rushed back to him—confirmation from the spell was the key sign that a nightmare creature had been truly slain. But when he struck the brute, there was no congratulation, no voice from the spell at all. Only silence. Which meant one thing: the creature was still alive.
A loud groan was heard from the heaping mass of flesh and lashing shadow swept out from the fog slicing through the fog, revealing a thorny tendril amalgamation of flesh lashed out toward them.
They both leapt back, narrowly dodging the tendril as it whipped past, bristling with vicious thorns sharp enough to tear flesh. The grotesque mass of flesh then heaved itself forward, dragging across the floor toward its fallen counterpart. Without pause, it began to consume it, flesh merging with flesh, bone fusing with bone—until the brute became something far greater, and far more monstrous, than it had been before.
Cain turned, giving Evan's shoulder a firm shove. "You can still run, right?"
Evan gave a nod. Without another word, they took off across the snow, boots pounding against the frozen ground.