Arthur's breath was ragged, his body trembling from a mix of exhaustion and the biting cold. The Ice Elf in front of him, though wounded and bleeding, moved with an eerie grace, its glowing blue form cutting through the vast white expanse like a phantom of the frost. The creature's three eyes fixated on him, unreadable, alien.
Arthur clenched his fists, feeling the numbness creeping up his limbs. His instincts screamed at him to be cautious. This was his first true encounter with a Creature of the Cursed Lands, and he had no idea what it was capable of. The Elf, though injured, could still be lethal. And he? He was just a man, freezing, starving, and unarmed.
The Ice Elf tilted its head, as if studying him, before letting out a guttural, warbling sound. It sent a chill down Arthur's spine, but he didn't let fear control him. Instead, he took a cautious step forward, muscles tense, ready to react.
The Elf's fingers twitched, its elongated hands clenching into sharp claws. Arthur barely had time to react and brave himself before it lunged at him with startling speed. He dodged instinctively, throwing himself to the side as the creature's claws slashed through the air where he had just been standing.
A small cut appeared on the left side of his face.
Ice cracked beneath his feet as he stumbled, barely managing to stay upright.
His heart pounded in his chest. There was no time to think. No time to hesitate.
But still he was somewhat enjoying this fight, maybe because of the adrenaline flowing through his veins, or because he had an unimaginable small chance of winning against this creature.
After all, he was able to track and react to its movements, at least his body instinctively can.
The Elf recovered swiftly, it let out a shriek while turning towards him with a strange fluidity. Its wounds did not seem to slow it down. Arthur forced himself into motion, sprinting towards the closest ice spike jutting from the frozen ground. If he could just find something, anything, to use as a weapon, he might stand a chance.
The Ice Elf screeched, the sound piercing and unnatural. It closed the distance between them in an instant, forcing Arthur to react purely on instinct. He ducked low, reaching for a shard of jagged ice as he rolled away from another swipe of the Elf's claws. The cold bit into his fingers, but he tightened his grip regardless.
With a desperate shout, he swung the ice shard at the creature's midsection. It struck true, cutting into its flesh and drawing a fresh stream of glowing blue blood out of the arm of the blue elf. The Elf recoiled, its three eyes narrowing, yet it did not fall. Instead, it let out another shriek, this one filled with anger.
Arthur's chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. He was at a disadvantage in every possible way, he was weaker, slower, and untrained in fighting something like this. But he had no choice but to survive.
The Elf charged again. This time, Arthur did not dodge. Instead, he waited until the last moment and fell backward, using his momentum to drive the ice shard deep into the creature's abdomen as it reached him. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his arm, but he did not let go.
The Elf let out a strangled cry, its body convulsing as more of its eerie blue blood spilled onto the ice. Arthur scrambled away, breathing hard. He watched as the Elf staggered, clutching at its wound, its three eyes flickering as if struggling to remain conscious.
Arthur knew he could not afford to hesitate. If he gave thecreature time to recover, he would not get another opportunity.
Summoning every last ounce of strength in his body, he pushed himself forward. He grabbed another shard of ice, larger this time, and drove it into the Elf's third eye with a brutal force that sent a painful shock up his arm. The creature gurgled, its two remaining glowing eyes dimming as it collapsed onto the frozen ground, its body twitching once before finally going still.
Arthur staggered back, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps. His vision blurred slightly from exhaustion, but he forced himself to remain standing. He had won. Somehow, against all odds, he had survived.
Just then a voice whispered into his mind, or was it his soul? Arthur had no idea...
[ You have killed a Common Feral, Frost Elf. ]
[Your Soul has started to awaken, You have been bestowed a Class Skill: Blood Feast. ]
His hands were shaking, his fingers still slick with the creature's strange blood. He wiped them against his torn and frozen clothes, swallowing back the rising nausea in his stomach. He could not afford to break down now.
Arthur was somewhat happy because of his reward, but on the other hand his whole body trembled as if it would break every moment.
He leaned against an Ice spike and sat down on the cold, icy ground.
He summoned the Runes in front of him, but a few things were now new.
"Class Skills, seems pretty interesting." He scuffed
Name: Arthur Moonlight
Rank: Cursed
Personal Class: Bloodborn
Class Description: "Forged in the crucible of suffering, your existence is entwined with blood—both yours and that of others. It flows through you, not just as life, but as power. To wield it is to embrace the thin line between strength and destruction. The blood you spill feeds your hunger, but beware, for without it, you wither. In carnage, you thrive. In stillness, you starve. "
[...] {Not Unlocked}
Class Skills: Blood Feast
Blood Feast Description: "To drink the essence of the fallen is to claim their strength as your own. With each enemy's blood consumed, your vitality surges, wounds mend, and your power amplifies. But the hunger is insatiable, and if left unfed, it may consume you instead."
Arthur finally had a bright smile mixed with a confused look on his face.
But he had to remember that his Trial had only just begun.
The Dangers had only just begun.
He looked up, his eyes scanning the frozen wasteland before him. There was no shelter, no food, no clear path forward. But he was alive. And that meant he could still fight.
And further than that, he was bestowed with his first step towards getting stronger.
Arthur exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cold air. His body ached, his mind reeled from what had just happened, but his resolve burned stronger than ever.
The Cursed Lands would not break him.
And so, with no other choice, he turned and continued walking into the endless ice, leaving the fallen Elf behind him as the frozen wind howled through the desolate landscape.