Chapter 34 – Fractured Foes

  Seven’s Perspective – Battlefield

  The Frostbearer’s roar echoed powerfully across the frozen hills, a primal declaration that resonated deep within Seven’s soul. This creature was the undisputed ruler of this icy wilderness, and it was not one to be trifled with.

  Seven inhaled sharply, his breath visible in the frigid air, forming clouds of mist that swirled around him. Crouched low behind a rugged snowdrift, he felt the tension in his legs as they trembled under the strain. His muscles screamed for relief; his mana reserves were running alarmingly low. The faint red sigils of Minor Enchanted Combat flickered around his limbs, barely retaining their strength, a stark reflection of his dwindling power.

  Gritting his teeth, Seven pushed himself up onto one knee, determination flooding through him.

  “Not yet… I’m not finished,” he vowed to himself.

  The Frostbearer, its sleek body covered in frost and adorned with shimmering arcane runes, prowled closer, leaving deep impressions in the snow with each calculated step. It exhaled frost-laden breath, vapor swirling ominously around its gnashing jaws.

  Then, it charged.

  With a swift movement, Seven dove to the left, narrowly escaping the massive claws that sliced through the ground where he had just stood, sending ice shards exploding like shrapnel. A sharp pain pierced his leg as one shard found its mark, leaving crimson droplets against the pure white of the snow.

  “Think, come on—move!” he urged himself, scrambling behind a crumbled stone pillar. Cradling the Nameless Wing Rifle awkwardly in his left arm, he realized it was now or never; it was his only hope.

  With resolve, he positioned the rifle against a frostbitten beam, using it to stabilize his aim. A faint blue glow pulsed up his arm the moment he gripped the weapon tightly—just enough to offer him a chance to fight back.

  The Frostbearer snarled, and Seven steadied his aim. The sigils lining the rifle’s barrel illuminated with vibrant energy as he concentrated on charging his shot.

  CRACK!

  The sound thundered through the valley as the shot erupted from the barrel. The round struck the creature's shoulder, enough to stagger it momentarily but not to halt its advance.

  “Damn it, my magical energy is too low,” Seven thought, recalling how this same rifle had once sent Saya reeling back with a single shot. But the Frostbearer was different—a formidable adversary.

  The beast turned, its eyes glowing with fierce intensity as it bore down on him.

  With a powerful paw raised to crush him, Seven dropped into the snow, narrowly avoiding the frost-laced claws that sliced above him. The air chilled in an instant.

  Pain suddenly flared in his side as he tumbled hard beside a jagged outcrop, stars flashing in his vision. Breathing was an arduous task, but he wasn’t ready to give up. Gritting his teeth, he hoisted the rifle again, each breath rasping painfully in his chest.

  “You don’t back down, do you?” he challenged the Frostbearer.

  The creature snarled ominously, beginning to channel its raw mana, its chest pulsing with a sickly blue light.

  “It’s casting… again?”

  Without hesitating, Seven squeezed the trigger—CRACK! The bullet pierced its ribcage, painting its fur with fresh blood. Yet, impossibly, it stood tall, unwavering.

  It reeled, letting out a piercing scream, then charged once more—faster, fueled by desperation and rage.

  Seven’s arm trembled violently. He had maybe one shot left, and it had to be perfect. Now was the moment to make it count.

  Raven’s Perspective – North Ridge Overwatch

  Snow swirled gracefully across the high ridge, reminiscent of silent waves.

  Raven paused, her ears attuned to the world around her.

  Then, a roar broke through the stillness—an unmistakable sound she had heard just moments ago, yet this time it resonated with a new intensity. Shorter. Angrier. Pained.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Suddenly, sharp cracks pierced the air—rifle fire.

  Once more, and then again.

  It was precise and deliberate—a display of tactical expertise, not disorganized chaos.

  Raven raised her hand and formed a fist.

  “Hold,” she whispered with confidence.

  The War Rabbit scouts fell silent, instantly responding to her command.

  Fluffy skidded to her side, practically buzzing with energy. “That’s definitely a fight, Raven! We must be close!”

  Taking a moment to absorb the sounds, Raven focused on the nuances. Each sound floated over the snow like soft whispers in the wind—evidence of mana distortion and kinetic strikes. There were no howling beasts, only the low, rhythmic pulse of something desperately trying to survive.

  Ripper stepped forward, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Can you confirm the beast?”

  “Absolutely an Arctic Frostbearer,” Raven said thoughtfully. “But it’s enraged and provoked. That suggests someone’s intruding into its territory.”

  Hopper leaned over, squinting toward the south. “Another team?”

  “Negative,” Ripper replied with conviction. “No War Rabbit patrols venture this far north without explicit orders. We would know.”

  Raven’s keen eyes scanned the treeline once more. “But someone’s down there with... pre-war technology. That rifle isn’t standard issue.”

  “Are you certain it’s not scavenged?”

  “It’s not just about the weapon,” she murmured. “It’s their method of use.”

  Deliberately. Efficiently. With control.

  Whoever was engaged with that bear wasn’t merely surviving—they were skilled.

  Fluffy leaned closer, speaking softly. “Could it be a survivor? From the outside?”

  Raven pressed her lips together, contemplating. “Possibly. But they’re holding their ground far better than most. That raises concerns.”

  Ripper didn’t find the idea amusing; instead, he tightened his grip on his axe.

  “It doesn’t matter who they are,” he said firmly. “What’s important is whether they pose a threat to us—or if they’re worth saving.”

  Raven lowered her hand resolutely. “We’ll have clarity soon enough.”

  “Do we engage?” Fluffy asked, his gaze keen now.

  “No,” Raven responded. “Not unless the situation shifts.”

  Her focus remained unwavering.

  “We observe. We learn.”

  And far below, in a valley etched by ice, a lone human stood their ground, preparing for whatever came next.

  Seven’s Perspective – Final Stand

  As the Frostbearer charged toward him once more, its fierce roar pierced the chilly air, sending a rush of adrenaline through Seven.

  Running wasn't an option. His legs felt like lead, his mana barely flickered like a candle in the wind, and the Nameless Wing Rifle weighed heavily in his grasp. Every part of him—bruised, frozen, and battered—was pushing its limits.

  Yet his spirit remained unyielding.

  “I’ll end this here and now,” he declared with determination.

  Rather than back down, Seven propelled himself forward, ramming the rifle’s sturdy barrel into the Frostbearer’s snapping jaws just as it lunged to tear him apart. The weapon clashed against bone, and the beast recoiled with a grunt of pain, dislodging clouds of powdery snow from its fur.

  With a deep gasp, Seven felt a surge of hope, but it was fleeting, for the Frostbearer was quick to recover.

  WHUMP!

  A powerful paw struck his side, sending him tumbling into the snowy expanse. Pain ignited across his ribs.

  “Not yet… I won’t go down like this,” he gasped, pulling himself back with every ounce of strength, leaving a crimson trail in the snow.

  Then—

  A sound sliced through the raging winds.

  A whistle. Clear and precise.

  Footsteps followed—swift and synchronized, forming a protective semi-circle around the commotion.

  Voices filled the air.

  Raven’s Perspective – Closing In

  With her crossbow already positioned, Raven prepared for action.

  She had diligently tracked the conflict along the ridgeline and was now close enough to see everything unfold with her own eyes. What she witnessed confirmed her instincts—it wasn't merely a primal clash; it was a strategic engagement, steeped in human desperation.

  She exchanged a knowing glance with Ripper, who nodded with confidence. “Time to move in. Fluffy, stay close.”

  Fluffy frowned, eager to voice a concern. “But—”

  “No time for that,” Raven interjected firmly.

  The scouts advanced in tight formation, their footsteps crunching on the snow as they neared the battlefield. The scene around them came into focus: the terrain lay in ruins, the Frostbearer appeared wounded and furious, and facing it stood a solitary human, struggling yet fierce, clad in tattered gear and wielding an impressive, ancient weapon.

  “Damn it!” the human exclaimed, frustration etched on their weary face as the bear lunged again.

  Without a moment's pause, Raven aimed and released a powerful shot from her enchanted crossbow. The whispercoil bolt sliced through the air—silent yet formidable for those caught off guard, though ineffective on mere flesh.

  TWANG!

  The bolt struck the Frostbearer’s ribcage, causing the beast to stagger, though it remained standing.

  Swiftly, Raven reloaded, her focus unbroken.

  “Clear a path,” she commanded, her voice steady. “Support him from a distance—engage only if he falls.”

  Seven – Final Stand

  Seven heard the unmistakable sound of the bolt clicking into place. He wasn’t concerned about who had fired; his focus was sharp.

  What mattered most was that the Frostbearer had shifted, just enough.

  With determination, he rose, despite the trembling in his bloodied limbs, feeling the last flickers of Minor Enchanted Combat swirling around his arm.

  He steadied the rifle beneath his arm, aiming low as the creature reared back, its mouth beginning to glow ominously.

  “NOW!”

  The rifle exploded with power. The bullet pierced the beast's underbelly—swift and true.

  As the Frostbearer faltered, its legs buckled, collapsing into a chaotic mix of blood, ice, and steam.

  Seven didn’t celebrate; he fell right alongside it.

  Ripper’s Perspective – Observation

  From the elevated vantage point, Ripper observed as the Frostbearer crumpled to the ground, a moment that felt both significant and heavy with meaning.

  He remained silent during that final shot, yet the depth of his gaze—tempered by countless battles—softened with a touch of admiration.

  “He’s not like the rest,” he murmured, acknowledging the uniqueness of the figure before him.

  Raven lowered her crossbow, furrowing her brow in contemplation. “I’ve never seen anyone from the city with skills like that. And look at that weapon… it’s definitely old-world tech.”

  Hopper moved in closer, curiosity shining in his eyes. “So, he doesn’t belong to our group?”

  Fluffy leaned in, whispering in a mix of awe and concern, “He’s something different. But he fought fiercely.”

  Ripper’s voice dropped, gravelly yet filled with resolve. “He took down a Frostbearer. Alone. Injured. Half-frozen. With just one arm.”

  The team fell silent, absorbing the weight of his words.

  Raven finally spoke up, “That kind of battle leaves scars that go far deeper than any physical injury.”

  Seven’s Perspective – Collapse

  Seven stumbled back from the lifeless body, his rifle dragging through the snow, each breath a struggle against the biting cold.

  His legs felt heavy, betraying him.

  Through the haze, he recognized figures looming in the distance—bunny ears atop their heads, clad in leather armor. War Rabbits.

  His vision dimmed around the edges as he strained to call out, “Who... are you...?”

  But only a whisper emerged, barely audible.

  He caught sight of boots moving towards him, illuminated by the warm glow of controlled mana signatures.

  Then, darkness enveloped him.

  Ripper – Final Orders

  Ripper approached cautiously, his eyes sweeping over the fallen man, searching for any signs of danger.

  No hostile movements. No hidden traps. No reinforcements.

  “Prepare yourselves,” he instructed. “We need to move in.”

  Fluffy blinked, surprised. “So we’re really going to help him?”

  “We’d be foolish to do otherwise,” Raven replied thoughtfully. “Even if he’s not from Novastra, we can’t just leave him after witnessing that bravery.”

  Ripper nodded in agreement.

  “Regardless of who he is—lost wanderer, survivor, or something extraordinary—we owe it to him to learn more.”

  With that, the Guild maneuvered forward—swift, cautious, and unified in purpose.