Page 79

I ignore the tiresome female, shifting through the vision spectrums. As suspected, high above, three Virennix hunters glare at us, crouched within the snow.

Their heat signatures light up in oranges and reds.

They make no move to descend, their stern faces merely following my hastened steps.

I wave a hand at them, seeking to learn their intentions.

“Is someone up there?” Princesa shifts in my arms, craning her neck for a better look. She must think me mad if she assumes I wave to no one. “I can’t see anything,” she mutters, concern creeping into her voice. “Are we in danger?”

“Danger always lurks,” I reply absently, watching the Virennix hunters return my wave. Seems the old gas-cloud was right once again. “But not here,” I add, feeling some tension ease in my shoulders.

“That’s a relief,” she murmurs, her gaze following mine toward the violet-tinged sky. “It’s getting dark, and my stomach’s growling. I haven’t eaten anything since the ritual either.”

Her words echo my own thoughts. The night will grow colder, and the lack of light will make travel treacherous. I scan the area, my vision flickering between spectrums until I catch sight of a cave half-buried in the snow ahead.

There are no life signs within the cave, so I remove my warvisor, fastening it to my belt to preserve its precious Elerium power supply.

“Little Todd’s probably hungry, too,” Princesa coos, her hands stroking the cyloillar buried beneath her furs. “Oh, yes, you are.”

I force down a groan. She shows that pathetic grub more respect than she does me, her soon-to-be Mortakin-Kai. It’s a disgrace. After the ceremony, perhaps I should return Princesa to Earth. I would lose her powers and some honor amongst the clan, but the idea still appeals.

“We may need to eat your precious Todd,” I remark, scanning the frozen snow and endless sheets of ice for any signs of prey. Nothing moves, not even the faintest trace of life.

“Absolutely not!” Princesa gasps, clutching the possible meal tighter. “Don’t listen to the big, bad Dracoth. I won’t let him hurt you,” she mutters into the folds of her furs as the sound of Todd’s mandibles clicking reaches my ears.

I stand before the half-buried cave, the entrance crusted over with long-frozen snow. What creature made this? I ponder, noticing how smooth and circular the tunnel appears.

Princesa squeaks in protest—something about the cold—as I set her down. Without hesitation, I tear through the frozen layers blocking our path. The sheets of frost melting in my molten grip are oddly cathartic, and in my enthusiasm, Princesa recoils as if frightened.

With the path clear, I press my hand to her back, guiding her inside.

The cave offers some respite from the biting winds, but not enough.

Her body shivers close to mine, the cold still clinging to her despite the heat I exude.

She’s exhausted. It’s obvious: the tired look in her eyes, the plodding steps, the shallowness of her breath.

That unwelcome flicker of concern stirs once again, gnawing at the back of my mind like a wyrm turning my brains over.

I activate my wrist console, the azure hues banishing the darkness. The tunnel stretches ahead, winding deeper into the permafrost. The ice walls shimmer, reflecting the light in a fractured, crystalline brilliance.

“This place is... spooky,” Princesa whispers, brushing snow from her furs. “But pretty.” Her eyes trace the sparkling walls.

“It’s safe,” I reply, eyes fixed ahead, the frozen flakes of snow crunching underfoot as we advance, illuminating the darkness. Safe for her. I fear nothing. Not here.

“Safe?” She casts me a sidelong glance, not quite convinced. “You hear that, Todd? At least we’re safe.” She gives a weak smile. The cyloillar peeks out with a slow, sleepy blink from her arms.

“Ah, another fridge. You really know how to treat a woman, Dracoth,” she mutters, sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Sarcasm.” I grunt. She’s just like that infernal old gas-cloud, wasting time with pointless chatter.

“Oh, you don’t like sarcasm either?” Princesa tuts, rounding on me with a grimace on her face, flushed from the cold. “Of course you don’t. ‘I only like the bodily fluids of men spraying in my face.’” She mimics my voice in that annoying way she often does.

My eye twitches at her insults—again, she attacks my honor, my pride.

The tendons in my hands tighten, itching to lash out.

If she were anyone else, a challenge to Krak-Tok would be warranted for such disgraceful accusations.

Instead, I bury my fury behind a fanged sneer, reminding myself that Arawnoth sent her to test my resolve.

She lets out a long, exasperated sigh, and for a moment, silence falls.

Good—finally some quiet.

I scan deeper into the cave, my wrist console highlighting faint outlines in blue—the remains of furs strewn around a stone fire pit. It’s a welcome discovery, evidence that Virennix hunters must have used this cave recently. The scent of cooked meat lingers faintly, prepared days ago.

“We rest here for the night,” I say, gesturing to the makeshift bedding before shifting back toward the entrance.

“Here?” she repeats, glancing around at the cold, dark cave. “Isn’t there somewhere... warmer?” She complains, hugging herself for warmth.

“No,” I growl, pulling thick furs from the pile and wrapping them around her shoulders. I guide her down with a firm hand.

“Jeez, alright, I get it,” she protests with a huff, snuggling atop the furs like a puffrio preparing to nest.

Satisfied as much as I can be, I prepare to leave the cave when Princesa snaps, “Wait, where the hell are you going?”

“To hunt.”

“Oh...” Her voice softens, her gaze drifting down to Todd, the clacking cyloillar. “But... it’s so cold and dark without you.”

I suppress a bitter laugh. Fear has eradicated her sharp tongue, at least for the moment. Disappointing, but expected.

“Here,” I grumble, offering my wrist console, the only source of light between us.

She takes it with trembling fingers, her eyes reflecting the soft blue glow of the device. The wonder in her expression momentarily softens her features. At least one complaint is solved.

“Dracoth...” she calls again, halting me. I turn, meeting her silver eyes, glinting with concern in the azure light. “If you could find us something to eat that doesn’t have more than four legs, that’d be great.” She smirks, the haughtiness returning.

“Remain here,” I mutter through clenched teeth, striding into the darkness outside with haste.

Infuriating female!

I should hunt the most grotesque, multi-legged creature in the universe and make her eat it—alive and wriggling! Hundreds of them! Maybe then she’d learn some respect.

The frigid wind slices like an icy claw now that I’ve left the cave’s hollow sanctuary.

Darkness presses in with each misty exhale, the purple twilight fast receding.

I don’t have much time before true nightfall, which will bring with it a cold even my molten blood might struggle to withstand.

The thought alone drives me through the frosty layers of snow, each step sinking deep into its biting embrace.

Aimless, I wander through the dim purple twilight, marveling at the brilliant aurora of greens and reds, like rays and spirals covering the entire sky. A unique beauty of this land, almost enough to redeem it—almost.

But there is no time for admiration. My attention shifts to the snow-covered ground, searching for tracks, droppings—any sign of life in this frozen wasteland.

The distant howls of beasts echo, pricking my ears, sounding like lost phantoms in the swirling frosted wind.

Are they hunters like me? Hope erupts in my molten heart, knowing there must be creatures for them to hunt, and if not—they will suffice.

My body tightens in anticipation, senses on edge. Every gust of wind makes me whirl, expecting danger. But there’s nothing—just the relentless gusts and the endless crunch of snow beneath my feet. Until... there. The faintest scent, sour and earthy, drifts in from my right.

Excitement explodes in my chest, banishing the frost that dares attempt to numb my body.

I hasten toward the source, every step intensifying the scent.

Yet, there is no sign of tracks in the snow, no sign of disturbance.

The snow here lies pristine, untouched as though it hasn’t been stirred for centuries.

I arrive where the scent is strongest, frowning.

There should be something—anything. This makes little sense.

But the snow is perfect. Too perfect, like the finest soft fur swaying almost imperceptibly in the howling wind.

Curious, I drive my armored boot into the mound, expecting to hit softness—only to strike something solid.

I recoil in shock as my foot bounces off a rock—no, not a rock— shell .

The white behemoth erupts in an explosion, showering me in falling snow. My claws unsheathe, and my Rush seethes through my blood like boiling lava. Before I can react, a maw filled with jagged teeth snaps toward me, large enough to cleave me in half.

Leaping through the air, I narrowly avoid the slathering orifice.

As it charges beneath me, carried by its seething hunger, I rake my claws along its pristine white shell.

Sparks fly as my claws meet its armored carapace, vibrating through the bones of my fingers into my arms. Too tough. My attacks can’t break through.

I tumble over its ramp-like shell, crashing into the snow.

A revolting sucking noise fills the air as the creature withdraws its limbs.

The world slows as the Rush roars through my veins, crimson streaks leaking from my eyes, swept away by the violent gales.

I whirl around just in time to see the creature pivoting, only to feel something smash into my ankles.