Arthur exhaled, his breath misting in the frigid air as he stared down the remaining two Warriors. The hunger within him surged, but he forced himself to stay controlled. He had already tasted victory over one, and now, with his enhanced speed and strength, these two would fall as well.
The first Warrior lunged, its spear thrusting forward with deadly precision. Arthur sidestepped at the last second, grabbing a discarded shield from the snow and using it to deflect the blow. The impact sent a tremor up his arm, but he didn't slow. He pushed forward, driving the edge of the shield into the creature's throat with bone-crushing force.
The Warrior staggered back, gasping for breath, but Arthur gave it no time to recover. With a quick flick of his wrist, he retrieved an ice shard from his belt and flung it directly into the creature's exposed neck. A gurgled choke escaped its lips before it collapsed into the snow, dark blue blood pooling beneath it.
[ You have killed a Common Savage, Frost Hunter. ]
The last Warrior hesitated for only a moment before charging. Arthur didn't retreat. Instead, he dropped low, using his smaller size compared to the towering elf to his advantage. He rolled beneath its sweeping strike and slashed across the back of its knee, severing tendons. The Warrior let out a strangled cry as it stumbled, its balance lost.
Arthur spun on his heel and slammed his fist into the creature's jaw, shattering bone upon impact. As the Warrior fell, Arthur grabbed its own fallen spear and drove it through its chest, pinning it to the frozen ground. The three glowing eyes flickered before dimming into nothingness.
[ You have killed a Common Savage, Frost Hunter. ]
Arthur straightened, panting heavily. His body ached, but he had won. He turned his gaze toward the Frost Elf Commander, standing tall, unmoving, his three eyes burning with disdain.
Arthur smirked. "That all you got?"
The Commander let out a guttural growl and raised a hand. In response, the ten remaining Workers surged forward as one. They were not as powerful as the Warriors, but sheer numbers made them a threat. Arthur had no time to hesitate.
He dove to the side, grabbing a fallen spear and hurling it into the chest of the nearest Worker. Before the others could react or even Arthur himself was able to hear the curse announce his kill, he dashed forward, scooping up a discarded sword and cleaving through another's head in a single, brutal strike. Their weapons were crude, their techniques unrefined, but they were still fast.
A Worker lunged at him from behind. Without turning, Arthur flipped his dagger into a reverse grip and drove it backward, impaling the creature through the gut. He twisted the blade viciously before pulling it free, spinning to face the rest.
Right now, Arthur was starting to enjoy the fight. "These dumb Frost Elves, that nearly killed me before in the endless expanse of nothing but Ice, are now falling by my blade as if they were ants."
Another came at him with a crude axe. Arthur ducked under the swing and grabbed a fallen shield, using it to bash the Worker's head in. Blood splattered the frozen ground as another body crumpled.
The last three charged together. Arthur grabbed an ice spear, twirling it with practiced ease. He threw it forward, impaling one Worker straight through the heart before pivoting to disarm another. A swift kick sent the final one stumbling, and Arthur ended it with a clean slice across its throat.
Arthur learned how to use most kinds of weapons, when he was training himself as a kid. With no Parents and way too much free time on the streets, what was there to do? Absolutely nothing...
So Arthur trained himself in many kinds of weapons out of boredom...
The battlefield fell silent after the last kill.
Arthur stood amidst the carnage, his body dripping with sweat and blood. The Commander had yet to move.
"You gonna send more? Oh no wait you don't have any more soldiers haha. Arthur smirked as if looking down on the Commander.
The Commander's gaze darkened, and for the first time, he moved. A blur of motion. A rush of wind.
Then, pain.
White-hot, searing pain exploded in Arthur's arm. He didn't understand what had happened and his eyes widened automatically. One second he was standing, confident, strong, and the next—his right arm was gone.
Completely severed.
A geyser of blood erupted from the stump where his arm had once been. His ice dagger, his weapon, fell uselessly into the snow along with his severed limb. He staggered backward, his vision blurring, the agony consuming him whole. His breath hitched, his lungs burning as his mind screamed in disbelief.
It had happened so fast. He hadn't even seen the Commander move. He was still only an ant that got trampled upon.
The world slowed, the burning pain overtaking every sense. His knees buckled, his balance lost. Blood dripped down his side, the cold no longer numbing—it was agony, raw and unfiltered.
He tried to scream, but only a lowly pitched voice came out of his mouth.
"I am going to kill you, you will see how big my wrath is..."
The Commander loomed over him, his massive blade still glistening with Arthur's blood. His expression was unreadable, as if Arthur were nothing more than a nuisance.
Arthur gasped, struggling to remain upright. His mind waged war with his body, demanding he move, demanding he fight.
But how? How could he fight with one arm?
The Commander didn't wait for him to recover. He stepped forward, striking with a force that sent Arthur flying backward, skidding across the frozen ground. His body was battered, broken. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding with exertion and pain.
Arthur forced himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to ignore the gaping wound, the screaming pain.
"I'm… not done yet," he growled, his remaining hand clenching into a fist.
He lunged. Desperate. Wild.
His attacks were reckless, each strike deflected with ease. He swung, he dodged, he twisted, but nothing landed. The Commander was untouchable. Arthur was nothing more than an insect swatting at a mountain.
Then, a final strike.
A clean slash across his chest.
Arthur's body seized as the blade tore through him. Blood spilled freely, the wound deep, devastating. He choked on his breath, his vision blurring. His body collapsed, hitting the snow with a sickening thud.
The pain was unbearable. His strength was gone.
Through dimming vision, he saw the Commander stare down at him for a long, silent moment. Then, as if Arthur wasn't even worth a finishing blow, the massive warrior turned and walked away.
Arthur tried to move. Tried to speak. Tried to do anything.
But he couldn't.
Darkness crept at the edges of his vision. The cold felt suffocating now.
Was this it?
Was this how he died?
The snow beneath him stained crimson, his body unmoving. The sounds of the Frost Elf camp faded into nothingness.
Then, silence...
The Ice elf who was watching the whole fight, was astouned by the overwhelming victory of his Leader. The measly human who wiped out the entire village was defeated in under 10 seconds.
The intruder was still alive but rather looked more dead.
A few seconds after the Ice Warrior also died slowly succumbing to his wounds that he sustained.
Arthur lay still on the ground, barely hanging by a thread to stay alive. He was covered in blood and was lucky that he was lying on the ground, because otherwise his organs would flow out of his body.
With a little bit of his last strength he screamed one last time...
"I will keep my promise, you dumb bastard will die by my hand... I Promise!"
With that his eyes closed and he went unconscious, Arthur was on the brink of death, and will die in a few minutes...
But his body and mind is still clinging to life...