The snow was deeper here.
Lucas lifted his boots with effort, each step a crunch and a drag as the white powder clung to his legs. The slope had narrowed, rising at a steep angle toward the final ridge. The sun above was distant but visible, casting long shadows behind jagged spires of rock.
His breath came in steady clouds.
The Deathfang Carapace was still on his body—barely holding together. He could feel it grinding in protest with every movement, the cracks along its surface groaning against the cold.
Beside him, Lyss moved like a ghost through the snow. Her cloak trailed behind her, silver hair tied up in a tight knot. She was silent, her eyes scanning the path ahead.
The summit was close now.
He could feel it.
A few more hours. Maybe less.
Lucas exhaled, brushing a hand across his mouth. His lips were dry, chapped from the wind.
"Think we'll make it before nightfall?" he asked.
Lyss didn't answer immediately. She adjusted the strap across her chest and nodded once. "If nothing slows us down."
'That's usually when something does.'
They reached a small ridge with a narrow ledge curling around the edge. Below them, the sea of clouds was long gone. Only white fields of untouched snow remained, sparkling faintly under the pale sunlight.
Lucas moved ahead, boots sinking into the soft ground—then paused.
"…The hell?"
A shiver crawled up his spine.
The snow beneath his foot felt off.
Soft—yes. But too soft. Like it shifted.
Then the world exploded.
The snow exploded beneath Lucas's feet with a deafening roar.
A massive shape burst upward from the white, sending shards of ice and powder flying in all directions. The ground cracked. Lucas was thrown backward by the force, barely managing to shield his face as the wind howled around them.
He hit the ground hard, sliding across the slope in a tangle of limbs and snow.
Lyss wasn't so lucky.
The creature's emergence had caught her directly, and with a brutal swipe of a massive claw, it sent her tumbling toward the edge of the cliff.
"Lyss!"
Lucas scrambled up, heart slamming against his ribs.
She was sliding fast, her body limp from the hit. Her hands clawed at the snow, trying to find purchase, but the edge was coming too quickly.
Without thinking, Lucas launched forward, diving low and reaching with all he had.
His hand closed around her wrist.
She was half over the edge already, her feet dangling into the void.
His other hand gripped the snow behind him, digging in hard. The sudden pull nearly yanked his shoulder out of place.
"Hold on!"
Lyss didn't scream.
Didn't panic.
She just locked eyes with him, teeth gritted, and nodded once.
Together, with shaking muscles and gritted teeth, they pulled.
Lucas groaned as his armor cracked louder under the pressure.
But inch by inch… she rose.
Finally, she collapsed onto the ledge beside him, breathing hard.
The sound that followed made them both freeze.
A deep, throaty growl—low and guttural—echoed from behind.
Lucas turned his head slowly.
And saw it.
It rose from the snow like a nightmare.
Five meters tall, hunched, and grotesque—its limbs were long and sinewy, ending in jagged claws that looked more like blades than bone. Its flesh was a patchwork of armor-like scales and white fur, wet and matted with crimson stains. A pair of cold, amber eyes burned in its skull-like face, fixed directly on them.
Lucas pushed himself up, heart pounding, still gripping Lyss's wrist tightly.
The thing snarled, its breath coming in heavy, visible clouds. Snow steamed where it landed.
Lyss moved to her feet quickly, already slipping her hand into her cloak. "It's Kindled Soul," she said in a low tone, eyes never leaving the creature. "Be careful."
Lucas stood too, slower, the pain in his shoulder pulsing beneath the cracked remains of his armor.
'Kindled Soul… Just fucking great.'
He reached out and summoned his weapon.
The Abyssal Reaper appeared in his hand in a flash of cold darkness, the obsidian edge gleaming hungrily in the light. It seemed to pulse in his grip, resonating with the weight of the enemy before them.
Beside him, Starlight Fang burst into Lyss's hand in a flash of radiant silver. The air shimmered around her as she took a stance.
Neither of them said a word.
The creature lunged forward, mouth opening in a bellowing roar that shook snow from the cliffs above.
And they ran straight into it.
Lucas darted to the side as the beast's claws slammed down where he'd stood a heartbeat ago. The snow exploded again, scattering into a fine mist as he skidded across the ice and brought his scythe up with both hands.
The Abyssal Reaper felt heavier than usual—hungrier.
"Soulrend!"
The weapon ignited with dark violet light.
Lucas surged forward, slashing upward in a wide arc.
The blade passed through the creature's leg—not just flesh, but soul. The Kindled Soul howled, stumbling as a pulse of shadow burst from the wound, sending small cracks of energy racing up its form.
'It worked. It fucking worked.'
But the cost was instant.
Lucas staggered backward, gasping. His head spun. The toll of the skill was immediate—his strength drained, limbs sluggish.
'Not even five seconds and I already feel it.'
The monster turned on him in a blur of motion.
Then Lyss was there.
She leapt high, twisting mid-air, her blade glowing as she brought Starlight Fang down in a clean vertical strike.
It carved across the creature's chest in a streak of silver.
The monster reeled again, shrieking.
Lucas dropped to one knee, breathing heavily.
Lyss landed beside him, eyes sharp but calm. "You alright?"
He looked up, sweat beading across his forehead despite the cold. "Still breathing."
"Good." She turned her gaze back to the enemy. "Then move."
The beast was already charging again.
And they had to survive it together.
The monster didn't stop.
It tore through the snow with terrifying speed, limbs crashing into the ground with bone-shaking force. Its roar echoed across the cliffs, splitting the air like thunder.
Lucas barely had time to bring up his scythe before the creature's arm swept across the slope.
The impact hit like a wrecking ball.
He was thrown sideways, body skidding through snow and stone before slamming against a jagged rock outcrop. The breath left his lungs in a single sharp gasp, and for a moment, everything went white.
His shoulder screamed in pain.
His ribs felt cracked.
'Fucking hell...'
A cold sensation washed over him—familiar, tinged with warmth.
He blinked.
Lyss was crouched over him, one hand glowing with a soft green light pressed against his chest.
His body pulsed with relief.
Not full healing.
But enough to move.
He gasped. "Thanks"
She didn't answer. Her gaze flicked back to the monster still thrashing ahead.
"Get up."
Lucas groaned but obeyed, staggering to his feet as the pain dulled slightly. He felt like a puppet held together with thread.
But the fight wasn't over.
'She's faster than me. Stronger. But I'm not dead weight.'
He clenched the Abyssal Reaper, gritted his teeth, and ran back toward the chaos.
They weren't done yet.
Lucas charged.
His legs screamed with every step, his ribs throbbed, and his vision still swam at the edges—but he moved.
Because he had to.
The beast turned its head toward him, its eyes burning with primal hate.
He ducked beneath a swipe and slashed again, aiming low.
Soulrend flared to life as the Abyssal Reaper tore through the creature's ankle—shadow peeling away in streaks as it bit into both flesh and soul. The howl that followed was deafening.
Lucas stumbled, nearly falling.
His vision blurred from the exhaustion building inside him.
He staggered back.
Then Lyss dashed past him.
She was fast—too fast.
Her blade, Starlight Fang, shone bright as she spun and slashed in a perfect arc across the beast's midsection. The wound burned with radiant energy, searing deeper than any normal blade could manage.
The monster reeled.
It struck back wildly, claws tearing across the ground, but she danced around each swing like she'd done it a thousand times.
Lucas found his footing, eyes locked on the beast.
They were in sync now.
He cut when she opened a gap.
She struck when he forced a shift.
The creature, massive as it was, couldn't keep up.
Their rhythm was brutal. Efficient.
One soul bound by death.
The other by life.
And in that moment—they were unstoppable.
The creature bled from a dozen cuts.
Its breathing was ragged, erratic.
The furious swings of its claws had slowed—no longer precise, just desperate. Pain and rage clouded its judgment. Its bulk shifted unsteadily through the snow, black blood steaming around its legs.
Lucas stood to the side, panting heavily.
He could barely hold the Abyssal Reaper anymore. The glow of Soulrend had faded, his reserves running dangerously low. His body trembled with each breath.
But he stayed on his feet.
Across from him, Lyss was calm. Her stance ready. Focused.
'She's not even breathing hard.'
The creature roared again and lunged forward one last time, aiming directly at Lucas.
He didn't have time to dodge.
But he didn't need to.
A flash of silver streaked past him.
Lyss moved like lightning, closing the distance in a blur. Her sword shimmered with radiant force as she drove it forward in a single, elegant thrust—straight into the monster's chest.
It froze mid-lunge.
The air grew still.
A heartbeat passed.
Then the beast let out a guttural, choking sound—and collapsed.
Snow exploded outward as its weight hit the ground, sending up a final wave of powder and silence.
[Target slain.]
Lucas stood frozen, staring at the body.
Then slowly, he let out a breath.
"…Damn."
The monster's corpse lay still, half-sunken in the snow, steam rising from the deep wounds across its body.
Then, with a faint hum, the system spoke:
[Item Acquired – Frosthide Mantle]
[Item Type: Light Armor – Rarity: Uncommon]
A shimmer of light pulsed where the creature had fallen. From beneath the mass of muscle and bone, something slowly emerged—an elegant piece of light armor, woven from thick white fur and pale leather. It looked warm, reinforced, and surprisingly flexible for something dropped by that… thing.
Lyss stepped forward and picked it up with a glance.
Lucas was still catching his breath when she turned toward him.
"You can have it," she said flatly, tossing the item toward him.
He caught it clumsily.
"What?" he asked, confused.
She adjusted her grip on Starlight Fang and looked back toward the trail ahead. "Your armor's cracked. You need it more than I do."
Lucas looked down at the Deathfang Carapace—and saw she was right. One of the pauldrons had split completely during the fall, and the chest plate had spiderwebbed fractures from the monster's swipe. It wouldn't survive another fight.
He stared at the white armor in his hands.
'An Uncommon drop. That's rare. That shit could've been hers…'
He opened his mouth to say something.
But she was already walking away.
Of course she was.
Lucas knelt beside the creature's massive corpse, his body aching in places he hadn't even known could hurt.
He raised his scythe weakly and began carving through the thick layers of hide and sinew with practiced movements. The Abyssal Reaper bit deep, slicing through the flesh until he reached it.
A faint pulse of light flickered inside the chest cavity.
There it was.
The Soul Core.
He reached in and pulled it free—an orb the size of a fist, glowing with icy-blue light and pulsating with slow, heavy rhythm. It felt colder than the snow, heavier than it looked.
He turned to Lyss, ready to offer it to her without a second thought.
But she shook her head.
"Keep it."
"What?"
"You need it more than I do," she said simply, and started walking again, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Lucas stared at the Soul Core in his hand, dumbfounded.
'This thing's worth more than I could afford in two months… and she just—'
He gritted his teeth.
No point arguing now.
[Soul Core Consumed – +10 Soul Energy]
[Current Soul Level: 1 (86/1000)]
A soft surge ran through his limbs—mild, but noticeable. The pain dulled. His breathing steadied.
The warmth was temporary, but welcome.
He slung the Frosthide Mantle over one shoulder and stood, now heavier, but better protected. The snowy wind pressed against him, but the cold didn't bite as hard anymore.
'She didn't have to give me any of this.'
He looked toward her figure ahead—calm, quiet, and moving on.
And followed.
The wind had calmed.
Not completely, but enough that the silence between gusts actually felt peaceful for once.
Lucas adjusted the new mantle on his shoulders. The thick white fur fit snugly over the remains of his ruined armor, shielding him from the worst of the cold. His muscles still ached, his soul still felt drained, but he could walk.
He glanced ahead.
Lyss was waiting this time.
Not walking ahead like always.
Just standing still.
Watching the path stretch toward the final climb.
As he reached her side, she let out a long breath—slow, tired.
Then, for the first time in a while, she spoke casually.
"This has been a shitty few weeks."
Lucas snorted. "No kidding."
She glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at the edge of her mouth. "You kept up. Not bad."
He raised an eyebrow. "That your way of saying thanks?"
"Nope," she replied. "Just saying you're not completely useless."
Lucas rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it.
The sun above cast long shadows across the slope. The peak still loomed above them, cold and indifferent—but closer than ever.
He looked up at it, breathing deep.
'Almost there.'
Almost.
And after everything they'd survived…
That was enough.