In the far north, the most dangerous and fastest time to travel would be during the summer, which just means there is less snow. The snow won't go away as it’s still not hot enough, but well worn paths will become visible and some of the more dangerous beasts will cease hibernating.

“[Quick Punch].”

Twisting his arm and shoulder back, Artyom narrowly dodges a ferocious claw from a Tundra Wolf before activating his skill and accelerating his fist towards the monster's side.

His punch connects and the monster is propelled away landing with a roll, quickly returning to its feet.

“Artyom, tundra monsters have a lot of experience in fights. They are much smarter than their lower leveled counterparts,” Zeek states with a wave while Alissa watches fearfully from next to him. Twenty Frost Wolves stalk around the clearing, all of which are following their Tundra Wolf leader.

Beasts, with enough levels, can evolve into a stronger and larger variant. For example, the Frost Wolf that had taken Artyom's normally more potent punch had jumped away from the fist as it impacted, diminishing the force of the blow.

“I can see that. What do you recommend?” Artyom asks, knowing full well that his current opponent is far more capable and higher level than himself. His only saving grace is his strength, which is difficult to use against a very mobile foe.

Zeek tilts his head, causing many of the regular Frost Wolves to jump away. They had been looking for a way to attack Alissa. Their senses tell them she would be easy prey.

Unfortunately for them, Zeek stands next to her, and he is absolutely not prey.

“Simple. Figure out a way to use your full strength. If you can do that, then the fight should be far easier.”

Artyom frowns. He’s not an idiot. If he could grab hold of the Tundra Wolf, then he could very well rip the monster’s limbs apart. The problem is that getting a grip on something much faster than yourself is not easy.

The Tundra Wolf circles around before dashing forward and slashing out with its paw. Artyom, unable to dodge in time, is forced to block with his arm. Several gashes are left behind, though none are deep thanks to his [Steel Arms] skill.

“Don't let the Tundra Wolf engage too many times. It's learning how to fight you.” Zeek calls out with a smile, enjoying as the wolf focuses on Artyom, all while Alissa slowly panics more and more.

The wolf accelerates several times more, causing more and more gashes to accumulate on Artyom's now bleeding arms. His crimson blood drips down and stains the white snow while the wolves continue to circle.

“Zeek, can’t you help him? He’s bleeding so much.”

Zeek shakes his head, “Girly, he needs to level, and the best way is to put his life in danger.”

Alissa frowns and continues watching the fight. The wounds slowly spread from just his arms to the rest of his body. A large gash is left on his back. Scratches appear on his upper left arm. Cuts on his legs. The Tundra Wolf had been using its significantly higher dexterity to injure and slowly bleed Artyom down. As of right now, it has stopped becoming a fight for dominance and one of survival.

Artyom falls to one knee as his breathing quickens. Blood covers his left eye but the other stays fervently open. Artyom bares his teeth.

“Finally. Watch, Alissa. Humans, like the animals and beasts we really are, will fight at their hardest when they gaze at death. This is where Artyom truly thrives.”

Alissa watches as Artyom slowly stands, blood flowing down his wounds as he takes a stance.

“Information is the most important factor in any fight… and Artyom has the ability to take it to a level that not even a [Fateweaver] could ever reproduce.”

Zeek gazes with a smile as Artyom’s domain expands dozens of meters around him. The wolves immediately quiet as they sense a change, but lack the understanding to know what happened. Regardless, they are wary, as is the Tundra Wolf.

The Tundra Wolf circles several times before accelerating and feinting a sweep of its claws.

Artyom does not move. He had already sensed the muscle movements, trajectory, wind movement, vibration, and several thousand other miniscule factors that helped him determine that attack was never going to hit.

The Tundra Wolf backs off, very confused at what had happened. It stares at Artyom, then at Alissa and Zeek.

It squints and then growls loudly. The Tundra Wolf turns and begins running away. The rest of the pack follows immediately after.

Zeek gazes at the retreating Tundra Wolf. Its instincts and intelligence are at an amazing level for it to choose to abandon its prey.

“Artyom!” Alissa yells and begins running towards the man. None of his injuries are lethal, though he will die of blood loss without eventual attention.

Zeek shakes his head, disappointed. For a [Hero], if Artyom fought and won against the Tundra Wolf, then he would have gotten ten levels. Even if he lost and Zeek needed to intervene to save his life, then he may very well have gained five levels.

“Here,” Alissa fumbles in her pack and grabs a vial. She uncorks it with her teeth and moves its contents to Artyom's mouth. He takes a few sips and pushes it away.

[Minor Regeneration] increases a body's natural ability to heal, but it is useless once the body is healed. Drinking more than what is required to fully heal is just being wasteful.

“Thank you, Alissa. And don't fear, I’ll be fine.”

Alissa frowns as she watches Artyom walk towards his gear. He puts his shirt and cloak back on before picking up and strapping a three hundred pound backpack on his back. The weight is quite pleasant to him considering most things feel like they weigh as much as a feather.

“Well, that was an interesting first day. We’re going to have many more of those until we catch up to that caravan,” Zeek says slowly, his gaze following a flock of birds getting spooked by the traveling wolf pack.

____________________________________________________

Wyvern are considered the greatest hunters of the skies. Very few [Kings] or [Emperors] would deny such a claim. Granted, they aren't necessarily the strongest. There are far more dangerous beasts, but even those beasts fear an entire flock of ravenous scaly lizards.

“Protect the caravan. [Axe Throwers], aim for the wings. Newbies, stay close to the caravans and fight anything that gets close. Aljnar, Ulfric, Vidar, finish them once they’re on the ground. Revna, keep that [Ice Barrier] up. I’m going to go after the lead Tundra Wyvern.”

“Well, do it quick, Shiro. I can't hold up this barrier for long,” the [Frost Witch] curses as she pumps her mana into the runes covering the wagon that is creating the powerful barrier.

Shiro, a true son of the north, grabs what seems to be his lance. As he runs into the fray of battle and away from the protective barrier that is keeping the [Ice Breath] attacks from being effective, his impressive muscles flex as his legs pump.

Standard hunting strategy with Snow, Frost, and Tundra Wyvern is to freeze prey before consuming. It is extremely effective on most prey, though humans have found ways to both circumvent and resist such damage.

With a warcry that echoes through the forest, Shiro exits the protective barrier and his body becomes subject to the extreme cold. Thankfully, his levels and furs enchanted with [Cold Resist] helps alleviate that pain considerably.

Three Frost Wyvern notice him and immediately dive at his location.

Shiro snorts and places one hand behind his back and raises his lance… nay, his oversized rapier.

“Stupid lizards,” he says with a smile. “[Triple Peirce].”

The [Fencing Berserker] takes a stance before his hand flashes thrice. A huge gouge forms on each wyvern, either outright killing or mortally wounding the carriage sized monsters.

The Snow Wyvern notice their fallen older brethren and focus on the new prey.

Not that much proper prey is accessible. Many of the wyverns are already dying to the [Axe Throwers] who have less range than an archer but a much stronger, more effective attack. Even more so considering their strength stat.

Axes fly through the barrier, slamming into Snow and Frost Wyvern with relative ease. The force breaks through their scales and gouges the flesh underneath. The wounds lead to the wyvern falling to the ground as flight is a delicate balance for the inbred dragons. Even so, wyvern are still dangerous on the ground. Long slender tails, rank, and sharp teeth make such foes formidable unless you have the experience of levels.

Aljnar, a level 108 [Icebreaker Warrior], slams down his hammer, crushing a fallen wyvern’s head into the ground and causing a fissure to form at the impact as well as a small tremor. He lifts his massive weapon and begins trudging towards the next monster that falls from the sky.

Vidar, a level 143 [Axemaster] trudges forward, swinging his two massive greataxes as easily as one would wield daggers, bisecting scale, bone, and stone. The old grizzly man systematically slaughters wyvern with dangerous and excruciating ease. His expression is akin to a farmer cutting wheat, focused and calm.

Axes made of ice form in Ulfric's hands as the level 136 [Frostaxe Thane] flicks them at his foes. The axes impact with an unnatural sharpness that can only be created by ice, before exploding in a shower of icicles when it enters a body. Few wyvern are still alive by the time they strike the ground.

Shiros’ eyes gaze through the now raging snowstorm caused by the wyvern, focusing quickly on the Tundra Wyvern leading its flock to attack and feed. A flock that is near five hundred in size.

The [Fencing Berserker] takes a calming breath before simultaneously activating [Controller’s Stance] and his [Berserker’s Rage] ability, two skills that heavily compliment each other. [Controller’s Stance] allows him to control his body to a significant degree. With it activated, he can use [Berserker’s Rage] for a fraction of its power while keeping hold of his mental faculties.

Granted, he will be tired later, but not by much.

Shiros’ body begins to steam as his muscles untense and strengthen, while his body heats up. The Tundra Wyvern notices this and opens its mouth. Mana gathers between its teeth before a storm of icicles are sent his way.

“[Precice Footwork].” he says as he slowly moves towards the Tundra Wyvern, seamlessly weaving between icicles.

The Tundra Wyvern stops its attack momentarily and Shiro uses that opening to quickly sprint forward. A few Frost Wyvern attempt to bar his way, but he deals with them easily.

The flock leader and probably the sole male screams in anger at his dying group. He spreads his wings that could cover a house before jumping into the air towards him.

“Bad deal,” Shiro chuckles as he aims his lance sized-rapier.

“[Phantom Florentine], [Tenfold Stab].”

Two ghostly rapiers appear next to his blade like a transparent apparition. One blade is slightly to the right while the other is to the left. His rapier hand seems to disappear as he quickly strikes the Tundra Wyvern thirty times.

And then the body shatters into crystal clear ice.

“Shit.” he curses as a tail comes from the side and slams him with enough force that he travels ten meters before slamming into the side of a large boulder.

Shiro spits blood and gazes now at the Perma-Frost Wyvern waiting patiently for him.

__________________________________________________________________

“Artyom, grandpa said to let it go. He even said fighting anything with Tundra in its name is something for a stronger class.”

“Girly, he’s not as weak as you might believe. He could have taken down that wolf with his current abilities, but he lacks the levels and skills to make it happen. So let him mope. Men like to mope. It's a manly thing to do.”

Alissa groans as she trudges through the snow.

“He’s been moping for two days already. Artyom, can I do anything? Is there something I can do?”

Artyom looks at her before slowly shaking his head.

One thing he learned in the military is that if you survive past a failure, then you make sure that failure does not happen again. So, for the past two days, he has been planning how he would fight such a foe. How to move, when to act. Proper positioning. All of those are thoughts he has, but few seem at all viable. The best plan he can think of is to feign weakness or to use the environment as a weapon. Something along the lines of uprooting a tree and using it as a club would have been effective.

“Give it up, girly. He is set on finding a solution.”

“But Grandpa, can’t he gain levels then?”

At the mention of levels, Artyom calls up his status screen.

Artyom Smirnov

Level 59 [Fist Warrior]

Level 24 [Hero]

Level 38 [Hunter]

Sense Prey

Thickened Endurance

Fleet Feet

Shattering Strikes

Steel Arms

Quick Punch

Hunter’s Gaze

Strength

291

Dexterity

28

Stamina

31

Perception

42

Endurance

35

Vitality

122

Mana

210

M/regen

1.2

Affinity

6

Intelligence

68

Willpower

353

Soul

410

Leveling wise, he has not gained much at all. His focus had been on learning to activate his domain, which he has made very little progress in. His former military training had preached emotional suppression. Things like fear and panic had no place in the military. Thus, it is difficult for him to harness strong emotions, especially negative ones.

Zeek stops and quickly raises his hand. Artyom perks up and Alissa starts looking around.

“It seems we have some company!” Zeek exclaims, pointing at a boulder in the distance.

Artyom focuses on the boulder, confused momentarily over what Zeek is talking about.

And then the boulder explodes and a steaming body accelerates dozens of meters to them. The body crashes and rolls, stopping barely five meters where Artyom, Zeek, and Alissa are standing.

“Stupid, fucking, *Cough*, overgrown lizard.” The huge northern man curses as he stands up with shredded clothes, half a beard, and what looks like a lance in his hand.

After coughing a bit more, the man spits blood on the white snow and then looks around. His gaze falls on the three travelers.