Del hadn’t understood why the System recommended parties of level 10 for the Beasts.

Sure, Bullwinkle had been a pain in the ass, but no more so than the other bosses she had seen.

Then Markus landed a good hit, and she understood.

Bullwinkle’s attack was the single most destructive thing she’d seen since the System’s arrival.

Every boss, every person, everything she had seen would die if that hit them.

And as the trees continued to slam to the ground with cracking groans, Del understood just how small she was.

She could make someone a little tougher or a little weaker, and they were fighting something that could do that.

Del was proud of just how much weird she had been able to stomach. The floating words, the magic, even the monsters she’d been able to take in stride.

But now, as she stared at that line of pure destruction, her hands began to tremble.

A living thing had done that! It wasn’t right.

A bomb could do that, sure. But not something that ate and slept and walked around.

The shaking worsened, and bile rose in her throat.

Markus cracked his neck, yelled something she couldn’t quite make out, then charged the monster.

The absurdity of it broke through her shock. This fight wasn’t over. They still needed her.

Her hands still shook, but she forced herself to move forward.

The shock and fear swirling in her chest started to give way. They parted for the old flame, the one she had always fallen back on when the world grew to be too much.

Anger.

~<>~<>~

Steven's mind felt like it would split in half as he tried to focus on a dozen things at once.

Three shields were in constant rotation, pushed forward the instant he called them to tear through Bullwinkle‘s gathering mist, only to be dismissed and recalled when they made it to the other side.

He was so familiar with the Skill that doing that on its own barely took any effort, but that was far from his only job.

His other two Hand-Shields flashed around the battlefield, materializing for the instant they were needed to deflect an ice chunk and vanishing the next. The mist gathered too quickly to stop it all.

Frustration boiled in his chest. Hitting the moose with his shield was practically useless; Bullwinkle ignored them like they weren’t even there.

He couldn’t even use them to trip him up. When he tried, the moose had almost shattered the shield by accident

And then that attack.

He’d thrown his shields up to try and cover for Markus, and Bullwinkle had torn through all five like tissue paper.

He was lucky the moose needed time to recover after that blast because Steven had been busy spewing his dinner into the snow.

He was pretty sure that backlash would’ve knocked him out cold before passing the Second Threshold.

Steven gathered himself just in time to see Markus charge back in

The old man sprinted in like someone several decades younger, his Skill blazing like a bonfire.

Bullwinkle shook his antlered crown and snorted, blue mist billowing from his nostrils.

He lashed out with a hoof, and Markus danced around it, slamming a hammer blow up into the moose’s shoulder.

Bullwinkle bellowed and moved into the strike, trying to knock the man over with his bulk.

But Markus was too quick and ducked down and to the right, slipping under the moose.

Steven blinked. Bullwinkle was as surprised as Steven because he didn’t spring forward or back to catch the old man with his hooves.

Markus came around Bullwinkle’s other side and punched into his leg joint.

Elbow, knee?

Steven shook his head as he caught a chunk of ice materializing at the edge of Bullwinkle‘s antler. It’s sailed out, curving around the moose as if tied to a pendulum to swing straight for Markus‘s back.

A shield snapped out, and Steven tried to call it to meet the ice chunk at an angle. He managed it, but even while diverting the force like that, the shield nearly burst.

Markus struck out again, and Bullwinkle danced back.

The beast bellowed and threw itself into the contest. Hoofs lashed out, mist gathered, and ice flew.

Markus slipped in and out, striking almost constantly in a blur of motion.

Why wasn’t Bullwinkle running? He could charge into the snow again and come at them from a dead sprint.

We wouldn’t be able to chip away at him, so why- Bullwinkle staggered as Markus landed a kick to his hind leg.

Noodles bite! The basset hound had done enough damage to ground the moose.

Steven glanced to the side as a scream ripped through the park. Del sprinted in, her teeth bared and white light rolling over her shoulders.

She slammed into the moose with a ferocity that took Steven off guard. The others followed behind her, and then things really got out of hand.

Strikes landed from all sides as they chipped away at Bullwinkle, darting in and out as he spun to face whoever attacked him last.

They circled him like wolves running down an elk.

If Bullwinkle were merely a giant, supernaturally tough moose, it would’ve been over there.

But the System had to go and give him magic.

The mist rolling off him doubled, then spread out in a ring.

Ice flew, and Steven turned all of his focus to blocking. Chunks slammed into the shields, some glancing off while others hit full force, and it was everything he could do to keep the shields from bursting.

The others were forced to back off or get clobbered.

Bullwinkle braced himself as he kept summoning the mist.

They had done enough damage that he wasn’t trying to run anymore, but he didn’t need to.

Steven was their only ranged attacker, and he couldn’t hurt Bullwinkle. Buford darted forward and four ice chunks sailed for his head. Steven clenched his fist, his Class pounding in his ears as he called.

Four shields, each a half second apart, sprang up around the hound.

Three ice chunks glanced off, but the fourth didn’t impact.

Instead, Bullwinkle snorted, and the projectile burst into a cloud. One that reformed the instant it touched Buford, solidifying into ice covering his paws.

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Buford struggled, but he couldn’t break free.

Steven slammed shields into the ice, cracking them with each hit.

Buford wrenched his legs, and the ice gave. But by then, four more projectiles were hurtling for the dog.

Steven rushed in, pulling his Anchor Shield as he went.

It couldn’t reach the dog in time, but its aura did. He snapped his shields out, and he swore they formed faster.

The ice chunks slammed home and strengthened by his anchor, the shields didn’t even crack.

Bullwinkle tried to burst the fourth chunk again, but Steven was ready. As it separated, he used Compass Push on the closest shield, slashing it through the mist.

Whatever the Skill was, that was enough to disrupt it. The mist dissipated instead of latching onto the Hound.

Markus and Del charged back in, dodging the ice as they ran.

Bullwinkle switched his focus to them, and the volley intensified.

Steven ground his teeth as he poured everything into their defense. His surroundings faded, the cold on his skin, the snow filling his view, and the wind howling in his ears.

None of it mattered.

The only thing that mattered was the next attack and the one after that.

Energy thundered through his chest as his shields flew. He made block after block, each impact making a loud crack.

As the storm continued, Steven found himself reaching his limit. He called and dismissed constantly. He wasn’t even aiming his shields anymore, not really.

He saw the danger, and he knew his shields could be there.

But while he was reaching his limit, so was Bullwinkle.

They were going to reach the moose.

And judging by the venomous look Bullwinkle shot him, the moose knew it too.

Which was why the Beast played dirty.

A cry sounded out from behind Steven.

He turned partially while keeping up his barrage of shields.

Micheal was down. He’d tried to get behind the Tower Shield but took an ice chunk to the leg.

The ice spread, covering his legs and chaining him to the ground.

Mist erupted from Bullwinkle, slamming into the others.

Buford braced himself, his shroud digging into the ground. That kept him on his feet, but the snow beneath him broke off, dragging Buford back with it.

Bullwinkle met Steven’s eyes, and the bottom dropped out from his stomach.

The moose’s eyes twinkled with that same hateful light from the night of the System’s arrival.

It wanted to hurt Steven, and it was smart enough to realize there was more than one way to do that.

He was acting before the mist surged up.

His feet pounded through the snow, carrying him faster than he’d ever moved before.

His Class pounded in his ears, and blue light wrapped around his feet. Even the strength from Thank You, Heroes swelled up, reacting to Micheal’s danger.

Would it be enough?

Pointless question. It had to be enough.

The wind roared around him as if trying to pull him away from Micheal. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the mist gathering, condensing.

He reached Micheal, sliding to a stop, his boots leaving furrows in the snow.

The man looked up at him, his eyes wide and terrified. “don’t try it!” He pounded a fist into the ice.

It didn’t budge.

“Leave me! You can’t block that!”

Could he break the ice? No. He had to crack it for Buford to free himself, and this ice had spread much further, and Micheal couldn’t match the hound's strength.

He turned from Micheal, putting himself between Bullwinkle and his friend.

Mist flowed like a river, swirling around Bullwinkle’s antlers before pouring into his open mouth.

“Stop ignoring me, god dammit!”

Steven reached out—two points of light shown in his mind. One was sturdy and strong, like a carefully constructed wall. His Tower Shield.

The other blazed with power, shining in his mind's eye like a lighthouse.

Steven reached out to that brilliant light and pulled.

He opened his eyes as the Anchor Shield flew to his palm, stopping inches away.

He called his Hand-Shields next, layering each of them in front of Micheal’s prone form.

He ground his teeth as the mist continued to seethe.

Bullwinkle hadn’t looked away, his blue eyes full of hate and spite.

Steven's hands balled into fists. He’d show him spite.

He reached out to his Class one final time and demanded more.

Energy poured out of him, slamming into his shields in a wave.

The glow of Anchor Shield brightened, then spread, infusing his other shields with a deep glow.

He didn’t stop, he kept calling. He stuffed the shields to bursting and then kept pushing.

Something snapped, his vision wavered, but he didn’t stop pushing.

A crack filled the air as Bullwinkle Skill finished, and stillness followed.

The snow froze, and the wind settled, giving Steven a clear view as the last speck of mist vanished into that perfect sphere of ice.

He was close to 50 feet away from the moose, and the cold still pressed against him, stabbing at his skin at his very thoughts.

Micheal was still screaming at him, but the words didn’t register.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the others charging Bullwinkle, trying to reach him before he fired.

They wouldn’t make it in time.

The power flowing out of Steven reached a fever pitch. His chest spasmed, his head pounded, and his vision wavered again.

Steven activated Bulwark, and his Tower Shield rushed out to cover them.

Bullwinkle fired.

The world fractured, or maybe it was just his mind. Everything came to him in pieces.

The aching cold, the pain and emptiness in his chest, Micheal’s scream.

And the terrible, crushing pressure in his mind.

It hurt. Worse than any pain he had felt before, worse than his shields shattering.

It was like fire and ice being driven through his brain, like his nervous system was being flayed and dipped in lemon juice.

But strangely, the agony grounded him, gave him something to focus on, gave him a target.

He pushed back against the pressure, fighting it off with every ounce of strength he had.

The pain worsened, trying to make him cave.

It just pissed him off.

He pushed until his mind felt like it would snap.

Something gave, and he couldn’t decide if it was something inside him or the pressure before everything went black.

~<>~<>~

Margie was too slow. Even with all their strength, all her fancy Skills, and buffs layered on top of one another; she couldn’t reach the moose in time.

It fired, the sound whining through the air before detonating against Steven’s shields.

The Hand-Shields exploded, each bursting into a spray of green shards a fraction of a second apart. It crashed into the Tower Shield next, pausing as webs spread through the barrier.

Maybe– the shield broke. Ripping apart with a deep boom that she felt in her bones.

Finally, it reached the Anchor Shield, slicing through its glow like a knife through butter.

The shield didn’t break, not immediately. The ice shoved against it, spinning and whining like a living thing.

With the Tower Shield gone, Margie caught sight of Steven. He stood with his arms spread wide and his legs braced like a man pushing a boulder uphill.

The shield bowed, and cracks began to form.

Steven‘s face shifted into a snarl as he pushed.

The shield firmed, the cracks healed, and the ice kept coming. The others reached the moose, and he let out a furious bellow, the sound stabbing into her ears.

Something gave, Steven’s legs buckled, the shield started to crack, and then the sphere exploded.

It tore apart the shield, tossing Steven back like a ragdoll.

Her heart stopped, but before he even touched the ground, blue light surged from Micheal.

Margie ran, barely acknowledging the prompt that filled her view

A Beast of the North has been slain!

Experience split with party.

Augment gained, Skill gained.

Level up! Level up!

The ice binding Micheal vanished, and he crawled towards Steven. She beat him there, dropping to her knees beside Steven.

He sprawled in the snow, his face bleeding from several cuts, one arm hung at an odd angle, and bruises already forming across his exposed skin.

Panic tore at the edges of her mind, but she fought it off. Check for a pulse.

She reached for his neck, but his chest rose before she made contact.

He took slow, shaky breaths. Micheal reached them. “Is he-“

“Alive,” she breathed. “He’s out fucking cold. But he’s alive.”