The cold night settled around them, but the tension still lingered in the air. Arthur stood over the lifeless body of the Frost Elf Commander, his breath steadying as the adrenaline began to fade. His wounds still ached, but his victory was undeniable.
From her perch on the rooftop, Adora let out a long breath, leaping down gracefully. She landed beside Arthur, her violet eyes scanning him carefully. "You look like hell."
Arthur wiped a smear of blood from his lips and grinned. "Yeah, well, you should see the other guy." He nudged the corpse with his boot. "Oh, wait. You can."
Adora rolled her eyes but smirked. "That was reckless, you know."
"Maybe," Arthur admitted, stretching his sore limbs. "But it worked."
She crossed her arms, studying him in silence before finally speaking. "You really are something else. No one in their right mind should have survived that fight, let alone won."
Arthur cocked his head. "And you? You're no ordinary First Trial challenger either. You handled yourself against those Frost Elves like a pro even though I don't know how. So, what's your deal?"
Adora hesitated for a moment before sighing. "I suppose you deserve to know. My parents were powerful—both Legends who vanished during their Third Trial. Before they disappeared, they made sure I was trained by multiple warriors, people who had survived the Cursed Lands longer than most. That's how I learned so much about the system."
Arthur frowned. "That explains why you know so much, but what about your own power?"
Adora held out her hand, and in an instant, dark violet mist curled around her fingers. "I'm a Cursed. My Class is called Lightbringer."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "And that does…?"
She smirked. "It allows me to enhance my speed and power by using Light as the source, so I am way stronger when it's day than when it is night. It's not flashy, but it keeps me alive in this desolate hell. But in general, the Class is way more complex than what I explained."
Arthur nodded approvingly. "Sounds useful. Especially for surviving out here."
"It is," she admitted, closing her fist and dispelling the mist. "But power alone isn't enough. The Cursed Lands are unforgiving. People like us? We either adapt or we die."
Arthur exhaled. "Then we adapt." He gestured to the abandoned camp around them. "Speaking of which, this place is as good as any for now. We should stock up and fortify before something else decides we look tasty."
Adora glanced around, nodding. "Agreed. Let's move."
Together, they scoured the camp. The Frost Elves had left behind supplies—food, weapons, and even some enchanted gear. Arthur found a sturdy chest plate that fit him well, though it was a bit cold against his skin. Adora uncovered a stash of dried rations, enough to last them at least a week.
They worked quickly, setting up makeshift defenses using broken carts and debris to create barricades. Adora set traps, using her knowledge of the land to make the camp less inviting to wandering monsters. They reinforced the existing buildings, patching up holes where the wind whistled through.
Arthur stood back, admiring their work. "Not bad for a couple of misfits."
Adora wiped sweat from her brow. "It won't hold forever, but it'll keep out most lesser creatures. At least for now."
For a brief moment, it almost felt safe.
Then the howling began.
Arthur's body tensed, his grip tightening around his sword. "Tell me that was just the wind."
Adora's face paled. "It wasn't."
From beyond the trees, glowing blue eyes emerged in the darkness. One pair. Two. Five. Ten. A dozen. More.
A horde of ice wolves, their massive, frost-covered bodies prowling forward with hungry intent. Their breath misted in the cold air, their teeth glistening under the moonlight. These were no ordinary beasts—they were monsters, their bodies hardened by the magic of the Cursed Lands.
Adora whispered, "They want the camp."
Arthur smirked, raising his sword. "Then they're gonna have to fight for it."
The wolves let out a chorus of chilling howls, and then, like a crashing wave of ice and fury, they charged.
Arthur lunged forward, meeting them head-on. The first wolf snapped at his throat, but he twisted, driving his blade deep into its ribs. It yelped, blue blood splattering across the snow, but another was already on him.
[ You have killed a Lesser Stalker, Iceborn Wolf. ]
Adora moved like a blur, her Lightbringer powers activating as she danced through the fray, slashing with precision. Her blade cut through ice and fur alike, each strike crackling with raw energy.
Arthur barely had time to react before two wolves tackled him to the ground. Their icy fangs tore at his skin leaving only shallow wounds. He growled, gripping one by the throat and twisting with all his might. A sickening crunch followed, and the beast went limp.
Arthur spared a moment to look for Adora, but she was handling her situation very well, nearly even better than he did. She summoned a Orb made out of Light energy, and just a moment later three Lightning bursts flashed through the air taking three lives or was it Light?
Just when Arthur didn't pay attention another wolf bit into his shoulder, ice seeping into his wound. Arthur roared in pain before grabbing a dagger from his belt and jamming it into the creature's skull.
Adora landed beside him, panting because of energy loss. "We can't hold them off forever!"
Arthur spat blood. "Then we take out their leader."
He scanned the battlefield, his keen eyes locking onto the largest wolf—a towering beast with frost-covered fur and glowing eyes like burning embers.
Adora followed his gaze. "That thing… it's at least as strong as the Commander was."
Arthur wiped his blade clean. "Then let's kill it, after all i killed the Commander too."
Together, they charged. The battle had only just begun.