CRAHHH, CRAAAHHHH!
The baby rhino wailed, its cries shattering the stillness of the mountain. The sound was raw, piercing, and agonizing, each cry tearing at the hearts of the group. They stood frozen, guilt gnawing at them. They had killed its mother just moments before its birth. If they had waited only a few minutes more, mother and child would not have been torn apart.
Texan stepped forward alone. The snow crunched beneath his boots as he approached the trembling newborn. He knelt, his broad hands surprisingly gentle as he caressed the little beast, then lifted it into his arms. Its small body quivered, damp with the warmth of new life. At this moment, the child was no bigger than a pineapple, its soft hide slick and fragile.
"Gumbo," Texan whispered, his voice deep and tender. "It's a meal my mom used to make when the waters grew cold. That'll be your name."
The 20-pound bundle of life whimpered once, then quieted. Snuggling into the cool leather of Texan's armor, the baby found comfort in his warmth.
With Gumbo in their care, the group gathered themselves, finishing their preparations. The cold mountainside loomed ahead. As they pressed onward, they met creatures here and there—snow hares darting across their path, frost-bitten wolves circling from the ridges—but together, the trio's combined strength cut through all resistance. The outer edges of the range offered nothing they couldn't handle.
The wind sharpened as they climbed, howling through the frozen cliffs. Soon they came to a vast, iced-over lake, its surface glassy and pale beneath the moonlight. The silence here was heavy.
They paused at the edge, hesitation rooting their boots in the snow. Himmel's hand shot out, stopping them. He crouched low, instincts prickling, and the others followed his motion.
"Wait," he muttered, voice tight. "It's too easy. Everything so far on this mountain was far too easy."
They scanned the lake, eyes sweeping across the barren whiteness. Then, from the far side, there's movement. A penguin-like creature, sleek and black-feathered, waddled to the edge. A level 3 predator by the look of its size and aura. The group watched in tense silence as it pecked and cracked the ice, dipping its beak to drink.
Himmel sighed with relief, shoulders loosening. "Looks like I was overreacting."
But in the blink of an eye, the calm shattered. A monstrous, feral in shape exploded from beneath the ice. Fanged jaws latched onto the penguin's neck, dragging it into the depths. The water churned red, and then silence again. In mere moments the ice began to glaze over.
The group staggered back, boots sliding in the snow. There was no easy way around, to the left was a wall of mountain and to the right was a cliff of hundreds of possible feet.
"Fuck," Recon hissed.
"Neptune fucking damnit," Texan cursed, his knuckles white on Gumbo's small form. "It's never gonna be easy, huh?"
Recon tried to offer an escape. "Nah… we can go around?"
"Yeah? You wanna walk another week?" Texan shot back, his voice sharp.
Before either could argue further, Himmel strode toward a nearby pine tree. He tested its weight, fingers tracing the bark. With one slash of his sword, the trunk cracked. He heaved it skyward, muscles straining, and with a grunt threw it across the frozen expanse. The tree slammed into the other side, allowing Himmel to be confident in his strength.
"Perfect," Himmel said, flexing his shoulders. "Who wants first?"
"Fuck it, throw me," Recon volunteered, bracing himself.
Himmel lifted him, spun, and hurled him across the gap. The rush of cold wind screamed past Recon's ears as he soared. For a fleeting moment, the horizon opened wide—sun glinting on snow, distant creatures pacing their territories. Then he crashed into the drift, the snow catching him like a cold cushion. He stood, brushing ice from his hair, and waited.
Texan was next, Gumbo tucked carefully against his chest. The mermaid flew through the air with surprising grace before landing hard in the snow beside Recon. He set Gumbo down, letting the tiny creature stretch its legs before feeding it strips of penguin meat and a sip from his waterskin.
"Well, that's us two," Recon said, pulling Texan out of the snow. "What about him?"
Texan shrugged, shivering. "I don't know, man…"
Himmel stood at the edge, eyeing the distance. He bent to pick up a rock and slid it across the ice. It skittered far. Then he slid one across the dirt beside him. Short. "Ten times further on ice. Ten times longer. If I take a running start, I should be able to make it."
He stepped back, heart pounding. Then he charged, boots hammering snow. He leapt onto the ice, sliding fast. At first it worked—but after a quarter of the way, his boot caught. He tripped hard, skidding.
"Fuck—the ice here is coarse, it's like dirt!"
The beast stirred beneath, shadows shifting under the ice. Himmel roared, forcing his legs into a desperate push. His body flew forward, but one boot tore free, swallowed into the cracks. The monster lunged, jaws snapping inches behind him.
Snap!
A spark ignited in Himmel's mind. He snapped his gloves creating a fireball, blasting it against the ice. The force ricocheted him forward. Another blast, then another, his body catapulted across. With one last heave, he crashed onto the far bank, rolling into the snow.
"RUN!" he bellowed, his voice echoing.
Texan snatched Gumbo and bolted, Recon right behind. The beast broke the ice, a mammoth-like abomination with tusks like daggers. But on land, it crawled clumsily, its speed laughable. The trio escaped, lungs burning.
Texan chuckled between breaths. "Himmel, smart on you." He grinned, then shouted. "Yo, Himmel—respond!"
Himmel only blinked, dazed. His ears rang from the explosions.
Recon glanced back and smirked. "Dude can't hear you. His ears are still ringing."
"Ah-ha, that's kinda funny." Texan shook his head, still laughing.
Himmel sat in silence, pulling strips of penguin hide and fashioning himself a new boot.
By dusk, the group reached the summit. The sky glowed faintly violet, stars just peeking through. At first, they thought they saw the moon. But no—it was alive. A towering, bipedal owl with the hulking body of a yeti, feathers mottled with frost, talons glowing faintly. And it wasn't alone.
Another figure approached—a humanoid cloaked in shadow.
Texan exhaled, a bead of sweat trailing his brow. "Oh… tamer and tame. We should be good."
But in the next breath, horror struck. The humanoid's hand pierced the owl's chest. The beast shrieked once before falling limp, its body dragged through the snow.
Himmel's eyes narrowed, his gut churning. "He's a Dark Orc. I can feel it."
The aura around the figure was suffocating, heavy with shadows. Texan grabbed Himmel's arm. "Yo, dude—he might be dangerous!"
Himmel's voice was low, certain. "He already noticed us. If I can sense his aura from here, then he's been watching us the whole time." He pulled Texan forward.
Recon, cursing under his breath, followed. They trudged through snow toward an igloo. Outside, the owl's corpse bled slowly into the ice.
Texan tapped his knuckles against the door.
"Come in," came a raspy voice.
Inside, warmth met them—firelight flickering across crude walls. A Dark Orc sat by the flames, cooking strips of owl meat. His igloo was cluttered with chests, worn and battered, as if he had lived here for years.
"So, we've got an interesting trio here," he rasped. His eyes narrowed. "Do you have the map?"
"Yes, we do." Himmel produced it, his hand steady.
The orc's lips curled into a tired smile. "Fucking finally. My name is Dynamo. I am a level 8 Dark Orc, a Monk Mage."
The group exchanged uneasy glances. His way of speaking was strange—too casual, too forced.
"Sorry," Dynamo continued, poking at the fire. "I was put under a contract to stay on this mountain until someone brought that map. When they arrived, I had to say exactly that."
Texan smirked faintly. "So, do you have items for us?"
"Ha! Straight to business." Dynamo shuffled through a chest. "I have a few things. First, here—my entire backstory. Sorry, I know it's a lame reward." He handed them a rolled parchment, then rummaged deeper. "Any of you monks?"
Texan raised his hand cautiously.
"Good. Any of you want to be monks? Fists are the strongest weapon, you know."
Himmel swung his level 3 sword with ease. "No thanks. Being a warrior has treated me well."
Recon plucked his bowstring. "Same here. Being a marksman's worked just fine."
Dynamo shrugged. "Well then, I don't have shit for you two. But you, mermaid—" he pointed at Texan. He tossed him a scroll. "Creature Combat. Perfect for your kind."
Texan caught it, inspecting the strange runes.
The group was baffled, but grateful.
"Thanks, Dynamo. Is that it?" Himmel asked.
"Yeup. Goodbye. Find me again, mermaid, when you're stronger—I'll give you more scrolls. Oh yeah—" he turned to Himmel and Recon, his eyes sharp. "Your reward is advice from a level 8. You, Dark Orc—learn how to use elements. You, Beastman—don't get jealous. Ok, bye."
He grabbed his belongings and walked into the storm, vanishing into the wind.
The three stood in silence.
"What the fuck was that?" Recon spat. "Isn't it obvious? His advice?" He stormed around the igloo in irritation.
Texan snorted, already unrolling the parchment. "That shit was dumb. Looks like he's got beef with some guy named Eras."
"Yeah," Himmel muttered, shouldering his pack. "Let's just get to the next checkpoint."
With that, he led the group down toward the other side of the mountains, the snow crunching beneath their boots, the storm whispering around them.