Arthur's breath came ragged, mist curling in the frigid air as he tightened his grip on the remaining ice dagger he held in his hands. His body ached, even though the wounds closed but relentless in their pain. The Warrior before him remained unmoving, three glowing eyes locked onto him with an eerie stillness. Behind it, the Worker shifted anxiously, still gripping its damaged spear.
Arthur had no time to waste.
Without hesitation, he lunged. He feinted left, forcing the Warrior to adjust its stance before twisting sharply to the right. His dagger slashed low, aiming for the creature's knee. The Warrior reacted faster than expected, stepping back and swinging its spear in a wide arc. Arthur barely ducked in time, the whistling blade missing his head by inches.
Damn it! Too fast and too strong!
He rolled to the side, his hands brushing the icy ground as he searched for an opening. The Warrior advanced, its spear striking downward with terrifying precision. Arthur twisted his body mid-roll, barely avoiding the lethal blow, but the ice cracked beneath him from the force of the attack. The ground trembled.
"I can't win a direct fight. I need to end this fast or the other warriors or even the commander will get here"
The whole fight only lasted about 20 seconds, yet Arthur was really exhausted from it, after all it put a big strain on his body.
Arthur let out a sharp breath, his gaze flickering to the fractured tip of the Worker's spear. An idea sparked deep into his mind.
He dashed forward, deliberately exposing himself. The Warrior took the bait, thrusting its spear straight at his chest. At the last moment, Arthur twisted his body, letting the attack barely graze past him. With all his strength, he drove his dagger directly into the cracked tip of the Worker's spear, forcing the already weakened weapon to shatter completely. Ice shards exploded in all directions.
The Worker let out a panicked clicking noise, momentarily distracted. Arthur seized the opening. Spinning, he raked his dagger across its throat, the blade slicing through the exposed flesh. A fountain of dark blue blood gushed forth, and the Worker collapsed, its body convulsing in the snow.
[ You have killed a Common Feral, Frost Elf. ]
'One down.'
But there was no time to celebrate.
The Warrior roared, its three eyes blazing with fury, Arthur thought that he had seen it's third eye glow brighter than the other two. It lunged with its spear, the attack way faster than before. Arthur barely raised his arm in time to block, the impact jarring his entire body. He stumbled back, his vision swimming.
Too strong, there's only one way to beat this thing.
He had one chance.
Arthur let himself fall, rolling backward to create distance. As he pushed himself up, he hurled his dagger with all his might. The ice blade spun through the air, heading straight for the Warrior's face.
The Warrior instinctively raised its spear to block. But that was exactly what Arthur had wanted.
The moment the Warrior lifted its weapon, Arthur surged forward, closing the gap in an instant. He grabbed a discarded ice shard from the ground and drove it straight into the creature's exposed side, shoving it deep between its ribs. The Warrior let out a pained growl, staggering.
Arthur didn't stop. He grabbed the fallen Worker's shattered spear shaft and swung it like a club, striking the Warrior's head with brutal force. The creature reeled, its stance faltering.
He quickly kicked the Warriors damaged body, the Frost Elf staggered back, and then toppled over and fell to the ground.
With a final, savage thrust, Arthur buried his blade into the Warrior's throat. The three glowing eyes flickered, dimming. A final, guttural growl left its lips before it collapsed, lifeless.
[ You have killed a Common Savage, Frost Hunter. ]
Arthur stood over the corpse, panting. His body screamed in protest, exhaustion threatening to drag him under.
But he wasn't safe yet.
The distant echoes of clicking sounds filled the air. The camp was still alert. More Ice Elves were coming.
No time.
Gritting his teeth, Arthur grabbed the Warrior's corpse and hoisted it over his shoulder. His body protested, but he forced himself to move. He would not let go of his reward he just earned. He sprinted toward the outskirts of the camp, weaving through the ice huts, barely avoiding detection of the Commander. Shadows flickered in his peripheral vision. More figures. More enemies.
But to his luck Arthur observed the camp for three whole days, so he new every step he had to take, to get out the fastest.
The Camp finally had seen the bodies. The hunt was on.
Arthur broke into a full sprint, every muscle screaming as he rushed through the darkness. A sharp whistle cut through the air—an ice spear sailed past his ear, missing him by inches. He didn't look back.
Almost there.
The edge of the camp came into view. He could see the frozen tundra stretching beyond, the promise of temporary safety. With one last burst of speed, he leapt over a mound of ice and disappeared into the blizzard beyond.
Arthur collapsed against a frozen boulder, his breath ragged. His body was a mess of bruises, cuts, and exhaustion. But he was alive.
And more importantly, he had the corpse.
Dragging the Warrior's lifeless body onto the snow, he took a moment to steady himself. The hunger burned within him, deeper than before. He needed strength. He needed more to win.
Slowly, he reached forward, placing his hands on the cold flesh of the fallen Frost Elf.
"Blood Feast is my only chance to absolutely demolish this camp."
A rush of power surged through him as he took a bite from the Warrior. His veins burned as the essence of the Warrior flowed into his own body. Muscles repaired themselves. His senses sharpened. The icy air no longer stung—it invigorated him.
His wounds closed. His strength enhanced. His vision became clearer, sharper. His breath no longer trembled in the cold.
When Arthur finally stood, the snow beneath him was stained deep crimson. The Warrior's body was nothing but a husk, its very essence drained into him.
A slow grin crept onto his lips as he turned back toward the Ice Elf camp.
He had barely escaped death once.
But this time, he was walking straight in.
Stronger.
Faster.
Deadlier.
His hunt wasn't over.
It was just beginning.
"Now let us start the real fun" Arthur smirked.
Slowly he stood up with his newly gained strength, speed and refreshed stamina.
He dissapeared from view for a moment and appeared out of thin air in front of the gates of the modest frost elf camp.