Luke thrust Xera into the Sloth beast’s face, with Whispering Edge silting its throat.
He activated Wraith Wail inside the beast, and the horror effect stiffened its claw swing. A pulse of blue frost essence entered the Sloth beast’s body through Luke’s swords. He found their internals were only a bit more resistant than a regular monster’s, although their outer forms handled the cold with ease. The beast shuddered, and its tongue turned pure white. Luke took out Xera and ripped her across the beast’s neck. With the beheading, the fight ended within two seconds.
Whispering Edge slipped out the beast’s body as it fell back, and Luke kept his grip around the blade. He slashed each sword, pointing to the ground in opposite directions. The beast’s blood fell from the blades and painted the snow. A flash of silver glowed from the Hunched Sloth Beast and entered his Inventory. Luke was about to disregard the loot, but at a glance, he could tell it was an item.
Despite his level, Luke had plenty of sub-par equipment pieces. He inspected the item’s tooltip from the Inventory. Its visual window showed white, soft-clothed hand gloves with a toughened portion around the palms.
[Sloth’s Iced Hand Gloves]
Quality: Uncommon
Armor: 7
Stats: +5 Strength +1 Agility
Passive- Snow Beast Coating: Grants 2 frost resistance while worn.
Requires Level 15
With the environment around him, the item was an upgrade; add in how his frost techniques interacted with his body, and Luke decided he’d always keep these on. Until he no longer froze from Essence Feedback or shivered intensely from Frost Fall Reave.
His former item, Ghastly Gloves, entered his Inventory, replaced by his new upgrade. The two points of frost resistance warmed the temperature around Luke, although he’d need more before the cold no longer got to him.
“Must be one of those highly sought-after items to delve into this dungeon. All resistance gear was sold out at the store I went to,” Luke said.
After he got used to the feeling of these gloves, Luke continued to trudge along in the snow. He noticed Sooty occasionally shivered. Her ten points of frost resistance served her well, but she wasn’t immune to the cold.
“If you need a break pal, let me know, I’ll set up the tent for you to rest inside. If we can find some cover from the snowfall, I’ll get to work on making a fire.”
Sooty shook her head while releasing a rattle.
“If you say so.”
The snow around began to fall in an increased volume. Paired with an arctic breeze every couple of seconds. Luke was in a snow field; no cover entered his vision range. The groups he spawned near hadn’t kept up, not that they tried to.
“Doesn’t seem like any of the hunters are near us, lad.” Wayfinder shook from his chain, “This cold is shiftin’ me gears.”
“It feels nice. I like the snow. The light color is the opposite of that dreary chest. That beast from earlier was fun to fight. Find another one!” Xera said.
“Something will find us again, Xera. Be patient.” Luke glanced down his chest, “How come the cold doesn’t affect you when I use it?”
“You’re me owner, why would it? Artifacts have their standards.” Wayfinder asked back.
“Interesting take, alright then,” Luke said
Prodded by Sooty’s occasional shivers, Luke picked up the pace, believing in the map’s directions. A pack of snow wolves circled him for a minute before ultimately deciding to find other prey.
“Cowards!” Xera yelled after them.
“I’d reckon the beasties smart, only picking on those they have a chance with,” Wayfinder said.
“They’d only slow us down. At least that Sloth Beast gave some experience and an item. Those pests would only take time and give nothing in return.”
The group carried on relatively silent due to the lack of stimulation outside the cold. Most beasts avoided Luke; the faint scent of the Hunched Sloth Beast kept them at bay. There would always be an exception to the rule, of course. A pair of beasts began to track him stealthily.
The crunch from two sets of paws on snow was a dead giveaway to Luke. The breeze and snowfall covered them well, but not well enough. By this point, the mountains' silhouette towered, becoming more evident with each step.
Luke inspected the two ‘optimistic’ beasts.
[Crazed Snowfield Saber Cat]
Level: 15
HP: 450
Driven by hunger, attacking something it really shouldn’t.
“If you’re not going to make a move, then I will,” Luke tilted his head to Sooty.
His companion flapped and flew away behind him. Luke turned toward Sooty’s direction. A pair of snow saber cats pounced, Sooty flew up a few inches higher, avoiding the ‘surprise’ attack. Coming closer to one saber cat, she pierced a talon through the back of its neck. A critical strike in a vital area devastated the beast. A [-395] hovered over its head. Sooty had level suppression on her side. Once Reaver Beak ripped through the monster’s face, it died.
The other saber cat tried to swipe at Sooty, but the bird flapped to the side. She used Essence Screech in its ear, disorienting it. With the follow-up of a few regular attacks, the beast began to bleed to death. Luke had sauntered over, the saber cat cowered. Luke split its head open with Xera. His strength stat crushed any weak physical defense.
Three flashes of white entered Luke’s storage. He decided to look them over once he reached the mountains not too far away. Green crystal spires started to appear; any ‘water pools’ were frozen over, leaving pockets of ice decorating the snowscape. The snow around him had turned into a blizzard, and the wind whistle grew intense. His visibility dropped, although partially mitigated by his vision stat. Silhouettes of mountains remained yet grew blurry.
He pressed on, his right hand gripping Xera and his left over his brow. He heard the thin crunch of ice; Luke stopped moving and looked down. A few feet in front of him, subtly hidden by the building snowpacks, was an ice gorge. He stood along its edge and brushed aside the snow. Every few feet at the edge of gorges was a triangular rune. Sooty retook her rightful perch on Luke.
“You’ve found the way to the next floor; try touchin’ one of those runes and see if it does something,” Wayfinder said.
“The map says the entrance to the next floor is at the mountains; it shouldn’t be far from here,” Luke said, rechecking the map.
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“Maps are overrated! What’s in front of you is all that matters,” Xera said.
Luke stared at Xera, his mouth slightly open, with widened eyes.
“What?” Xera asked.
“That actually makes sense…are you feeling okay, Xera? Usually, half of what you say is nonsense.”
“I have my moments, now; show on the road, my Reaver.”
Luke reached out with his left hand. The triangular rune lit up, a suction force ripped Luke from his position. The unexpected effect threw him into the gorge.
As he fell, Luke yelled, “Knew it couldn’t be that easy, Chimera horde in one dungeon and surprise rune suction in the other. What’s next?”
He formed an Essence Lance in his hands, intending to create a counterforce to his fall. A moment before he was to throw it, a cold draft of wind buffeted up against him. Luke’s fall slowed to a crawl, and he landed at the bottom of the gorge.
Essence Lance dissipated, canceled by him. After the experience, Luke formed a new opinion in this world.
“I hate runes. Always doing crazy crap and meaning ominous things. Interface, I demand a translation package already.”
The Interface didn’t answer; instead, a new notice took over a part of his vision.
[Welcome to the Beast Divide’s second floor]
Luke gathered his bearings. Sooty was busy circling down toward him, enjoying her ability to fly. The floor here was pure ice. Luke naturally had less poise issues with ice. There were limits to that natural affinity. Since this ice wasn’t his own, he took care not to slip. He heard the raging blizzard above, but the gorge walls around him were a barrier to any wind. Therefore, while the gorge was freezing, the wind chill here was nonexistent.
“I don’t understand; the map seemed certain the entrance to the next floor was at the mountains unless…”
He examined the map closely, “This is what I get for buying the cheap version. Then again, I wasn’t going to buy the ‘deluxe’ version for one gold each.”
The map had an ‘entrance’ marker just below the mountains but above the gorge. If you glanced quickly, like a certain Reaver did, you’d think the entrance was the mountains, not the gorge.
“That’s all well and good; keep your peepers in better use, lad; a few furry guests are eyein’ you from afar,” Wayfinder warned.
The Reaver had noticed them, but none gave a feeling of hostility. He pulled up the Interface on the critters near him in the gorge to be safe.
[Permafrost Gorge Fox] (Elite)
Level: 24
HP: 1260/1260
Keeps to itself, a neutral beast to humans. Only fights those who have the scent of fox blood on them or who attack first.
Around Luke were a few families of these foxes. He spotted their cubs or kits near the dens they’d created. Their mothers circled up their children, and the fathers grouped up, facing him. Altogether, about thirty beasts tensed at the intruder.
Luke put Xera in her sheath. While he wanted to level, he refused to attack in this circumstance. He could respect anything trying to protect its family.
“What’d you put me up for? I’m ready to swing swords and fling spells. We can spare the babies if it makes you feel better.”
“No need, Xera. I know you can’t see the Interface, but it says these don’t attack unless provoked.”
Xera grew silent; after some struggle, she said, “As the greatest Sword Wand ever, it's beneath me to slay friendly critters; I’m for monsters only!”
Luke chuckled, “Don’t worry, our views align.” Luke took the direction opposite of the fox families. The gorge widened in his direction. There were a handful of plants scattered about. Their leaves and flowers close in color to the blue ice around him.
“No relaxin' yet, me gears are grinding to say that the next thing we meet won’t be as amiable,” Wayfinder said.
As Luke nodded to Wayfinder’s words, Sooty landed on him. He was surprised enough to learn not every beast or monster was hostile in a dungeon.
“Take me out again. It’s so stuffy in this sheath. Reminds me of the chest,” Xera said.
Luke took Xera out. He cycled through Infusion as he walked deeper into the gorge. A few beasts guardedly looked at him as he passed by. With most being in their dens, only accessible by ice ledges on the sides of the gorge wall, Luke let them be.
The gorge above closed, and Luke’s visibility slightly dropped. The temperature rose a few degrees. The path split into several caves; the Reaver didn’t ponder. Instead, he chose a cave that bore in the direction of the mountains.
The Reaver wandered to a widened area, well-worn ice surrounding him all the while. Sounds of clashing and spells flying caught his attention. Slowing his speed, Luke’s sight pierced through the dark, or rather, he noticed a group with a beacon of light around them.
They were locked in combat with two beast types. One, basilisks; the other, bats that looked more ice than living matter. He started an analysis of the two beasts. His interactions with others hadn’t been the most pleasant lately. That influenced Luke to take his time before rushing to help.
Luke started with the Basilisk. Ice merged with its reptilian hide, its body low to the ground on four limbs. He made out two purple-blue eyes.
[Boreal Basilisk]
Level: 21
HP: 827/827
Its gaze will freeze you over time, leading to eventual frost petrification. Blessed with ice-cold eyes that make babies cry.
Luke didn’t consider that a blessing, but in a dungeon, what did he know? He began to lock his eyes on the bats. Their wings were made of ice, except for the wing bones. Frost covered their mane below the head. The rest of their body was white, with black spots, their talons a pale gray.
[Glacier Wing Bats]
Level: 17
HP: 475/475
One of the weaker beasts on the second floor. Often teams up with other beasts to target prey.
The bats supported the Basilisk in their charge, diving in to harass the group’s casters and attacking when they exposed vulnerabilities. Luke kept to the darkness, hidden from both the hunter group and the beasts.
He watched and learned. Sooty motioned to leave his shoulder, but he kept her back. He gave her a rough explanation through Reaver’s Link. The bird released a dissatisfied click. Not out of pity for the group. Instead, she wanted to tangle with the bats.
Luke suppressed a smirk. His bird always seemed to want to tangle with things that could fly. Even back in the tomb, she often took care of the wraiths. While Quicksilver Feather made her a menace to the wraith's natural advantages, he knew her desire for aerial dominion played a part.
The Reaver watched the group’s demeanor and the beast’s tactics. The Basilisks charged in, several focused their ice gaze on one party member. The unfortunate member would become rapidly layered in frost and ice. Another member, usually one of the two casters, would dispel their party member or bombard the basilisks with their efforts.
Glacier Wing Bats would dive in at that moment, and the caster would take considerable damage. The melee members of the group would rebuff every other attempt, but each failure left another stack of injuries. After a minute, Luke grasped their setup and general ability repertoire.
Their leader was the fire caster in the back. A shamanistic healer supported them; rather than one tank, they had two bruisers split the basilisk's charges and a monk who used their agility to help from the center.
The fire caster spoke, “Radagast, the bats are readying to strike Kjal. Can you cover him?”
The monk replied, “Roll and fanged kick are up. I’ll handle this round.”
Luke could see the caster’s face light up. A magma ball formed, and he hurled it into a Boreal Basilisk. A bruiser with a mace smashed it on the side when the Basilisk tried to evade. The magma seared into the Basilisk, and its ice practically evaporated. Its flesh began to cauterize and melt. The creature grasped the bruiser in vengeance, its maw tearing into his leg.
A glacier wing bat tried to capitalize on the bruiser’s misfortune, only to be blasted back by fire. Seven flame swirls protectively surrounded the caster. Luke noticed a charge dissipated when the fire blast appeared without a cast.
The bitten bruiser tried to wrench the beast’s mouth open to extract his leg. His mace lit up. A tree root lapped over the creature’s jaw and into its mouth. Once the leg was free, rain showered on it, and the gaping wounds began to close, but not completely. The bruiser could barely stand with a hampered leg, and their formation began to collapse.
While the Basilisk melted to death, two others took its position. The bats, smelling blood on the ice, relentlessly harassed the wounded bruiser. The shamanistic healer barely kept up. The caster visibly struggled with a decision before he shook his head. He took out a scroll.
“It’s not worth keeping this for the third floor. We’re not ready. Kjal, summon your spirit. I’ll use the scroll to turn the tables here.” The flame caster unfurled a scroll, and liquid mana began to congeal around the caster.
A man with chain mail gear and two spell daggers responded, “Anemoi, heed my call. Grant us wind’s grace.”
Whoosh.
Twin miniature tornadoes danced around the man. Wind buffeted back the bats, and a near-solid gale twirled around each party member's weapon, as well as the monk’s fists.
Luke had been on the verge of outing himself to help but stopped with that display. This party was far more veteran than the one he previously encountered. The Reaver stood firm against the buffeting wind but gradually slid back to the nearest ice wall.
Show me everything.