Ragnar's gaze narrowed at the massive non-human beast that stood right before him and his new shelter. His mind was focused on escaping the dreadful ice and the cold wind into the stone-like cave.
At least it would protect him from that much, and he would be able to make a good fire to warm up.
But standing right there in his way was a colossal—a being resembling a human, well, only in some parts of its physique. It was man-like, standing with a creepy hunched back where its bones from the spine clearly popped out. Its skin was dark, greasy, and looked like it was decaying. Hands so long they stretched down to its knees, with monstrous, abominable, stroke-like claws at the end of its three fingers. It only had one eye, and a socket that seemed void of any, and large fangs that Ragnar could see even from his own distance.
{Ice Wendigo detected}
Ragnar furrowed his eyes, 'Ice Wendigo?' He had no idea what that was. Even after a thorough search through Ragnar's memories, there was nothing.
This was, nonetheless, a new beast in the realms that had not yet been seen—or was very rare.
'Shit, I don't know a thing about it.' This thought made Ragnar more cautious, a sense of foreboding clouding his mind as he watched the mighty beast towering before the cave like a bodyguard, protecting it from anyone that dared intrude.
The cold wind brushed against Ragnar's entire body once more, this time reminding him how he needed to get shelter quick—before the cold murdered him far quicker than the Ice Wendigo.
Ragnar raised his ring to his mouth and ordered it to bring forth a weapon. Another golden drop exited it, dropping into the ice, forming a longsword he immediately picked up by the hilt. He glared back at the beast.
'I have no choice but to fight it,' Ragnar established in his heart, and at the same time, he felt fear wash over him. This was strange. Why would he be afraid? The great Fang Zhen—just because he was powerless—was afraid of what? A single, lowly beast?
The thought of that almost made him jump out of his hiding spot and face the monster head-on to prove himself wrong… Almost…
He held himself back and went on with the most logical choice he could muster.
An attack from behind.
If he was lucky enough, he would be able to sneak up on it and thrust his blade through the beast's skull in one attempt.
If he was lucky enough, that was.
The young Lord began the dreary climb down the jagged rocks, again taking in the pain of having his frozen, numb hands cut with each stride down, and the cold entering into them. He grunted at this point.
Ignoring the pain once was one thing, but another time was different.
"Gaaah!" The groan escaped his lips as his hands gave in to the pain, throwing him into a dangerous plummet directly down the boulder with no grasp or assurance for a safe landing.
Unfortunately for this madman, luck was not on his side. As he dropped down the height of the boulder, his body hit hard against a large jagged rock protuding out the boulder—his ribs hitting it first with a surely deafening crack that made him scream out in pain.
Then he finally crashed into the cold-devouring snow with a small explosion of ice.
"Arrrgh!" The young Lord groaned, folding up and placing both hands on his ribs just below his right arm where the pain was most prominent. He tried his best to muffle his groaning by biting his lips so as not to alarm the white Wendigo or any other beast—but that did not go as well as he planned, as biting his lips added a great deal to his disorientation.
'This is nothing to me… Get up, Fang… Get the hell up!' Ragnar squinted his eyes and finally found his resolve to ignore the pain, sitting himself up and then lingering for a moment to take in the situation.
His sword was also in the snow nearby, glimmering back the sun rays like an ancient relic.
But that wasn't what kept him silent and deep in thought… But...
The young Lord's ears twitched, and he immediately summoned his Arcana, his eyes immediately gaining the ability to see through the boulder—and then what he saw made his heart tremble greatly.
Beyond the boulder, and a few meters off, was the colossal Ice Wendigo, sprinting on all fours at a quick pace straight toward him.
He had lost the element of surprise—and soon maybe, his head.
---
Ragnar's mind began to race as he got to his feet and hurried toward the jagged rocks all around. He moved as quickly as he could, reaching the rocks and hiding behind one of them. Not a good hiding spot, but well enough to conceal him—if the beast was stupid.
The young Lord held his breath as the reminder of him not picking up his sword crossed his mind. 'Man I'm fucked.'
A moment later, a noise filled the air—a ragged growling, followed by the sound of a large mass crashing onto the snow.
This was enough to tell Ragnar the Ice Wendigo had arrived.
The growling of the realm beast sent a chill up Ragnar's spine. 'If only I had a flame Arcana…' he cursed in his mind at the useless set of eyes he possessed.
But now was not the time for wishes, as the Ice Wendigo was now in view, sniffing around to pick up a scent. Up close, the realm beast was larger, more death-looking, and with its dark, ambient presence—this was a choking sight.
However, there was something quite wrong with the beast.
Something Ragnar could not, well... process.
The Ice Wendigo had its head turning from left to right. It even gazed past him for a brief second and yet—had no reaction.
Strangely, the Ice Wendigo also seemed to spot his foot trails in the snow—so deep and vivid—and disregarded them without a single thought.
The young Lord lingered for a moment before drawing a conclusion. 'It can't see, can it?'
That was the only logical way to explain what he was seeing.
It was a risk—but if that was so, there was still a way for Ragnar to win this fight, even after losing the element of surprise.
And if he managed to kill the beast—absorbing its beast core would make him stronger. Not by much, but just enough to be considered a bit above human feat.
With that small conclusion...
Ragnar began to brood a plan within. And when he was sure of it, he bent over slightly and, careful not to make too much noise, yanked off his left boot and dropped his leg back onto the rocky floor. The feeling of his foot escaping the small warmth of his shoe and into the icy wind was gruesome.
But he bore it, raising his left hand and throwing his shoe as far as he could.
The shoe landed on the snow a few feet away with a low thud—but certainly loud enough to pique the interest of the Ice Wendigo.
The beast lunged forward at an incredible pace, closing the distance between it and the boot as quick as it could.
This was Ragnar's chance to get his blade.
He quickly raced out of his hiding place, onto the cold shearing snow, each step making him sink into the snow's embrace as he got closer to his blade.
Finally reaching it, Ragnar became silent again, unmoving. He stayed still, as though he was a statue, grasping the blade of his sword in his left hand—which was not his most prominent arm but rather just manageable.
Then, in his frozen state, his head slightly turned right—just a little—then he lingered for a moment.
Right there before his gaze was the large, ugly grimace of the rotting Ice Wendigo, glaring back at him with its white, milky eyes filled with—emptiness.
It was good he had stopped when he did. If not, that would have been the end of him.
'Now…' Ragnar gritted his teeth, 'the element of surprise.'