Hours passed, fading from darkness to the pale glow of dawn hidden behind storm clouds. More than a week had slipped away inside that frozen wasteland, and Ethan's resources were running thin.
The silence of the frozen bathroom was absolute, broken only by the faint crackle of dying flames. Ethan opened his eyes slowly, his body stiff, every muscle aching as if he had slept on stone. The improvised fire had dwindled to trembling embers, their glow reflecting faintly against cracked tiles coated in ice.
He pushed himself upright with effort, drawing a deep breath. The helmet's visor had long since been stored back in his inventory—useless now, frosting over within minutes whenever he wore it. Instead, only the makeshift cloth mask, torn from spare clothes, shielded him from the biting cold that seemed to seep into his very bones.
The flame of his lighter flickered weakly when he tested it. A frail sputter, almost a warning that the fuel was nearly gone.
From the corner, one of his summons dragged a dented metal canister toward him—gasoline, a miraculous find that, somehow, hadn't frozen solid. Ethan poured a measure onto the last scraps of wood and coaxed the flame back to life. The fire surged higher, spitting light into the shadows like an open mouth breathing warmth.
He weighed the canister in his hand.
"Maybe one, two nights left at most." — he muttered.
From his inventory, he pulled one of the last meals his mother had prepared. The packet hissed as it touched the makeshift pan over the fire. The faint aroma filled the room, fragile but grounding, a fleeting reminder of normality. Ethan allowed himself a few silent minutes, chewing slowly, letting the warmth spread inside him.
With a breath, he summoned the system's interface before his eyes.
🌀 [SHADOW ADAPTATION SYSTEM — ACTIVE]
· Level: 31
· Species: Human
· Class: Shadow Monarch
Attributes:
• Strength: 60
• Constitution: 70
• Agility: 60
• Intellect: 60
• Perception: 60
Physical Condition: Unstable
HP: 805 / 805
MP: 690
Fatigue: 48 / 100
✨ Available Points: 0
Skills:
[Authority of the Ruler]
[Shadow Regeneration — Active during rest]
[Shadow Extraction]
He exhaled slowly. Stronger now, but at a cost.
"I underestimated this place… thought it would be just another Rift. But with this cursed cold slowing me down and my supplies dwindling… even time itself becomes an enemy."
The flames quivered as wind slipped through a crack in the wall. Ethan pulled the black overcoat tighter around him and shut his eyes for a moment, trying to draw in every ounce of warmth he could. Each breath escaped in pale clouds, mingling with the smoke of the fire.
Soon, he would have to move again. The colder it grew, the closer he was to the end. At least that's what he believed, but with it came more enemies—and a fatigue no shadows could bear for him.
Outside, like a sentinel, the Hell Vanguard stood silent, colossal, its scythe glowing faintly blue. Its eyes smoldered like cold embers in the storm-dark.
Ethan clenched his fist.
It was time to continue.
Ethan pushed the door of his frozen refuge open, and the storm swallowed him whole. The blizzard had not weakened—instead, it had thickened, the air nearly solid, lashing his face with invisible blades of ice.
"Vanguard." His voice came muffled through the cloth.
The colossal shadow moved forward, its form of pulsating darkness becoming a living wall against the snow's fury. Around him, Ethan summoned his lesser shadows. They spread out in a shifting circle, marching like silent guards, carving a path through the storm.
The ice groaned beneath his boots with every step. The system's HUD pulsed faintly in the corner of his vision:
[Fatigue: 49 / 100]
The red bar was a constant reminder. He couldn't stop. He had to keep moving.
All around, the city looked more like a frozen graveyard than a place built by men—windowless towers sheathed in ice, facades cracked open, streets devoured by snow that rose past his waist. Ethan pressed forward, the Vanguard clearing the way with its massive frame, ignoring dead ends, always steering toward the direction where the cold cut the sharpest. The Rift itself seemed to be guiding him.
And then, he felt it.
A shiver coursed through him, deeper than the cold. The snow stirred ahead, as if something crawled beneath it. His summons froze in place, eyes glowing blue in the mist.
The first shape broke through the haze: towering, at least two meters tall, pale flesh streaked with pulsing crimson veins, horns crooked like broken spears. In its grip burned a flaming scythe, the fire hissing against the blizzard like a torch defying the storm.
And it was not alone.
More rose from the snow, one after another, forming a wide arc. The storm itself seemed to recoil from their presence, their horns slicing through the haze, their weapons blazing, scattering sparks and shadows across the frozen street.
Ethan knew them instantly.
Hell Abyss.
They did not hesitate.
The first lunged like a blur, its scythe cleaving through one of his shadows, erasing it instantly before it could even regenerate. Another raised its weapon and hurled it: the burning blade tore across the air toward Ethan. His invocations intercepted, but the moment the weapon struck, it detonated—an explosion that shattered the snow into a crater of fire and steam.
Ethan lifted his arm on instinct, voice cold as iron.
"Advance!"
The Hell Vanguard warped forward, teleporting into the heart of the Abyss pack, its titanic scythe cleaving downward in a brutal arc. The ground split, ice cracking in concentric rings as one of the demons was ripped apart.
Ethan's pistols materialized in his hands, shadows solidifying into cold steel. He fired in a storm of gunfire, the sound reverberating through the streets like thunder. Bullets punched into the torso of one Abyss, staggering it—but in moments, the flesh knit back together, veins pulsing with fire.
"Damn it… these bastards won't go down easy."
The Abyss struck as one. Their flaming scythes painted the storm in arcs of red and gold. Explosions of fire tore through the snow. The Vanguard dodged in distorted blinks, teleporting behind one enemy and cleaving it apart in blue fire. But against the rest, Ethan's weaker shadows struggled. Each Abyss fought with fury, rising from wounds that should have slain them, rage burning hotter with every blow.
Ethan clenched his jaw. He couldn't let this drag out.
A demon fell to the Vanguard's strike. Ethan raised his hand.
"Arise!"
The corpse warped into shadow, its pale body now swallowed by black, veins glowing cold blue, eyes blazing like the Vanguard's.
[Current Shadows: 23 / 30]
His expanded intellect gave him room for more soldiers. But the difference in quality still pressed on him like a weight.
Gunfire roared in his hands. Shots pierced Abyss skulls, slowing them, staggering them—but never finishing them. One hurled its scythe. Ethan dove, rolling across the ice as the weapon detonated behind him, the heat searing his back even through the cold.
He slammed into a frozen vehicle, metal groaning under the impact. Another Abyss swung for him. Ethan rolled aside, the strike cleaving the car in half with terrifying ease.
On the other side, the Hell Vanguard intercepted, catching a flaming blade in its massive grip. The shockwave blew sparks and snow apart, blue light clashing against fire. Ethan seized the moment—his [Authority of the Ruler] flared, dragging the enemy off balance and pushing him to the ground. Three of his shadows swarmed, tearing it apart before it could rise again.
Another Abyss fell.
"Arise!"
[Current Shadows: 24 / 30]
The tide shifted, if only slightly.
But the Abyss did not relent. One sank into the frozen ground like water, vanishing, only to erupt above Ethan in a leaping strike. Its scythe fell in a blazing arc.
Ethan twisted back, crossing both pistols, unloading a hail of shots midair. The demon staggered. Ethan dashed forward, fist snapping upward in a brutal punch that smashed into its jaw. The blow launched it across the street, its body slamming into another frozen vehicle.
[Fatigue: 69 / 100]
His chest burned—not just from exertion, but from the cold that was eating him alive.
"Tch… damn monsters…"
With a sharp gesture, he ordered his army to regroup, shadows aligning in formation. The remaining Abyss emerged slowly from the storm, horns gleaming in the firelight of their weapons.
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
The [Authority of the Ruler] surged outward. Invisible force seized the demons, wrenching them into the air, their bodies thrashing against the unseen grip.
"Now!"
At his command, his shadows leapt, blades of darkness piercing the suspended Abyss in dozens of strikes. Their bodies dissolved into dust, the storm swallowing their screams.
When the silence returned, it was only the storm's howl that remained.
Ethan approached the demons that had been eliminated and ordered again.
"Arise"
[Current Shadows: 30 / 30]
[LEVEL UP!]
[Level: 31 → 32]
Ethan panted, breath burning his lungs like shards of ice. Around him, shadows regrouped—some standing tall, others reforming from the shadowns.
"I can't keep this pace… I'll fall before I reach the boss."
It was with this thought when he saw it.
Far away a thunderclap split the storm, a flash of blue lightning ripping across the sky. For the briefest instant, the veil of snow parted, and Ethan caught sight of a silhouette—immense, towering, no less than seven meters tall. A moving mountain of shadow at the heart of the blizzard.
His eyes narrowed, straining through the storm. The shape vanished, swallowed by snow once more.
The sound came next.
A roar, deep and guttural, that shook the ground beneath his feet. Windows shattered in the surrounding buildings, shards of glass raining down like frozen rain. The echo rumbled through his bones.
Ethan shivered—not from fear, but from certainty.
"I found you… bastard."
He stepped forward—but his body faltered, legs buckling, fatigue weighing him down like chains. His knees hit the snow, breath leaving him in ragged clouds.
"Not like this," he muttered to himself. "If I go now… I won't come back."
The pistols dissolved back into shadows as he dismissed them to the inventory. He raised his hand, gesturing sharply. Some of his summons fanned out, securing the area, while others began scouring the ruins for fuel or shelter.
A half-collapsed office building loomed nearby. Its walls leaned but still held, one of the few structures intact enough to promise refuge. Ethan pushed himself inside, shadows clearing debris as he moved through the frozen halls. A meeting room deeper in still had walls and doors intact. That would do.
Inside, he ordered his army to sweep the building. One shadow dragged in a dented metal trash bin. Ethan poured the last of his gasoline into it, then flicked his lighter. The tiny flame sputtered once—twice—then caught. He dropped it into the bin, and fire erupted, filling the room with flickering light.
No more flame if he failed.
He pulled a stack of blankets from the inventory and spread them on the floor. Sitting down heavily, he let the warmth of the flames fight the creeping cold.
[Fatigue: 78 / 100]
The red bar glared at him. Too high. Too dangerous.
"Almost there…" he thought. "I need to recover, assign my points… and then I'll end this."
He pulled the makeshift covers closer, settling into the cold floor as best he could, and commanded his shadows to patrol the building—leaving the reborn Hell Abyss, and of course the Hell Vanguard, standing guard within the room.
With nothing else left to do, he let out a slow breath, closed his eyes, and surrendered himself to the pull of sleep.
(Continue...)
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