19695 The 2nd Spring

The mountain winds are especially fine in the early spring, a bit chilly for most, but still heavenly compared to the frost in winter. That doesn’t mean I’ll drop the big fur coat any time soon, just that we don’t have to hide in the tent at night to avoid frostbite. The warriors moving around signals the arrival of the afternoon hunt, gathering at the chieftain's tent.

I so~o want to go with them. Dad only lets me play with some wolves down the slope, always yapping about The beasts around the peak are too dangerous, you’re too young, blah blah blah

Mom would’ve allowed it, or at least would’ve secretly taken me to a proper hunt. I miss her, I really do. Beasts won't be the only things I hunt when my time comes… I’ll make those cursed elves pay for taking my mother. Father constantly reassures me that it’s fine, she’s strong and will find a way back home one day. I know it's a lie, I can just feel it...

“Valka, come here real quick.” Dad calls for me.

Others would say his voice is deep and intimidating, but for me, it's soothing, something stable to rely on. He’s one of the lead hunters of our tribe, the Snowstorm Tribe, and someone many people other than myself rely on on a daily basis. It’s perpetually snowing high up here in the Zelard Mountains where we live but it's something our people are used to, we always lived like this. In this corner of Koleth, the hunting fields are rich, competition little, and dangers aplenty, the reason why we need someone strong and reliable to get us fed.

I skip over to dad, humming happily, maybe today is the day he’ll take me with him. I’m almost twelve now, just a matter of days, old enough to kill my first Frost Worm. He has his ‘Look at me, an experienced hunter’ face on, pretending to be tough for the tribe, a mask I shatter with ease.

He waves at me to follow him into our tent, now this might go two ways from here. Either I’m gonna get scolded for something I did wrong and just glossed over or this is my lucky day.

Dad looks like any other male in our tribe, big as an avalanche, with white hair like a mane flowing down his broad shoulders and strength equalling an Obsidian Yeti. He usually tries to look grim and serious but any time it's just the two of us, he smiles and laughs like a goofy child having the time of his life.

And there it is, just as we stepped into the tent that cold face disappeared.

“Val, I know I promised I’d take you on a hunt soon, except we’re moving fairly high today and it's too dangerous for you up there. So I’m sorry, maybe next time.” He tells me with an apologetic face.

“Oh, c’mon it's always the same shit. Too dangerous here, too young there, I’ve been hearing the same excuses for years now.” I protest.

“I know but I’d rather be called a coward than let my daughter die because of my negligence. I would rather you hate me and the tribesmen despise me than lose someone again. Please… just promise me you won’t run away on your own again.” His ice-blue eyes bore into mine.

Damn, that again? I only snuck after them once. ONCE. He’s been using that card over and over again to keep me here.

“But dad, even the goat in my dream on my ninth birthday told me that I’ll achieve great things. I even got a really strong starter Class, the Skill is even better. I’m one of the strongest kids my age, how much longer-”

“As long as necessary Val, as long as I can.” He interrupts me.

I know he hates when I’m being forceful but I can stand my ground. I can’t stay a kid forever. Fighting is what our people are made for, we don’t use weapons or fancy armor like the humans or elves. No, we fight with what nature gave us, our bodies are our weapons and armor.

“If you promise to take me next time, then it’s a deal. No backing out, no more too dangerous... That’s my condition.” I demand.

The big and strong man looks worried again, conflicted by my persistence. “You really are just like your mother. Except, you’re my child, you don’t make deals with me, you do as I say. Just, have faith in me Valka, because even if you doubt it, I do have faith in your abilities.” He leaves the tent and meets up with the other hunters to discuss today's excursion.

What he says and how he acts starkly contradict each other, that’s not what faith looks like. Actions speak louder than any warcry and not before returning with my first prey will I be considered anything more than simply a child.

The nearby humans and elves call us barbaric and savage for our customs and living conditions, comparing us to orcs. I have to admit we’re not too different from them, our people are no craftsmen, and we can’t make fancy things and tools…but c’mon orcs? Those simple-minded brutes are more like the Yetis, just way uglier. We don’t even look much different than humans.

Besides, why do those scrawny bastards think they’re so much better than us? The only reason they can put up a fight is because of those stupid swords and spears. Our bodies might be stronger than theirs, but their weapons were made for monsters even beyond our resilience. The last time the elves attacked we lost half of our warriors, they were cut down like animals, the blades of the pointy-eared skinny bastards massacring us like cattle.

That’s why I asked the goat for this.

Manaforged: Mana seeped deep into your skin and muscles to reinforce it against any blade seeking to harm you. Your body, vitalized by mana, resists cuts and stabs by the grace of the arcane so you won't have to fear any weapon anymore. (Endurance +0.3% per level)

That’s how they took my mom and many other women with them, older ones mostly as the young are of little value. We had to migrate to a different area after that, a more dangerous one, but we had no choice. The fauna here is way more aggressive and generally higher leveled, causing the death of a hunter almost every week.

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The number of our people has dwindled to around a hundred in the last few years from almost three times that before the attacks. There are other Nephilim tribes like us in these mountains, although relations between tribes aren't great, so coming to the others' help isn’t expected. We don’t even know where they are or even if they are alive or not.

I return to the other kids wrestling outside on a spot cleared of snow, constantly practicing for our first hunt. Despite the cold, we don’t wear too many clothes around the camp where we're protected from the wind, we don’t have any armor and stuffy clothes would just hinder our movements. The bodies of our people have long since grown accustomed to the chilling winds on the coldest continent’s mountains.

See I even know this, what continents are and the comparison. Other races constantly describe us as stupid and ignorant, we’re not. We basically look like humans, just bigger and with very light hair colors and radiant eyes. It’s not our fault they’re weak and fearful of us.

I’m usually on the back foot in our little fights with the other kids, even though I told dad I can smash anybody. My Class allows me to fight longer and basically shrug off most hits but it lacks the kick needed to take the others down. I’m a [Vital Brawler] of the Life element yet despite the attunement I’m not meant to heal others, barely even myself. No, what it does is make my body go beyond its limits, making me stronger and faster. It was dad’s suggestion I go down this path, just like mom did, just like it is our way.

This might sound like something anybody would want in a friendly brawl… well it’s not so simple. I can’t do shit against a lightning bolt, a blast of fire, or if they bind me with ice or earth, if the opponent is too fast or sneaky and many other instances. Head on I win, I always do, sadly most of the mock fights are not so straightforward.

Just like the orcs, we have a code of honor when it comes to duels, although ours is a lot more liberal. Retreating, using the terrain or ranged combat are all allowed, although only very few of us are able to fight from a distance. We’re not the best with magic and have none of those twigs they call bows.

Today my opponent is Kurak, a boy my size and only a year older, it's not that he’s small, I just inherited dad’s stature. He uses earth magic to dish out some nasty punches, something I’m good at myself so this duel will come down to who lasts longer.

Without a signal or anything we just get down to business throwing punches right off the bat without holding back. His limbs and chest are covered with tiny rocks serving as armor while both his level and stats give him a considerable advantage. Every strike I block leaves a reddening bruise on my forearms and the ones I don’t sting like hell before my healing solves it short term.

After a series of quick jabs to his left, I follow up with a leg sweep. A dirty move but not an unexpected one. He raises his front foot to fall forward, forms a layer of earth on his forehead and headbutts me mercilessly. We both stumble back for a second, except I don’t plan on allowing him any breathing room with head-to-head fighting being my forte and cock my arm back for a hefty punch. He raises his arms to block but I don’t back down from a clash of strength and hit him with everything I’ve got. He slides back a few paces, shaking his throbbing arm even under the layer of earth he covered it with, without suffering any serious damage.

I crack my neck and run at him for a few more exchanges back and forth for almost a minute as we’re both endurance fighters. Sometimes I land a good punch, next his kick meets my side, then try breaking his arm… we both can take these.

The life magic keeps me going both energy-wise and keeping my wounds from getting in my way for the duration of the fight. His defense is as rock-hard as ever, making my strikes have little effect besides irritating me and chipping off pieces of his armor.

It’s time to take some risks.

I step in, faking another hook aimed at his guts and making him block low. The moment he does I switch to a straight right to his face, raising my arm too high on purpose, leaving myself open. He springs the trap and goes for a heavy punch right at my guts, exactly what I wanted. I don’t defend myself, prepared to take the hit and instead aim my own punch right at his jaw to finish this in one fell swoop.

A confident smile spreads on his face, he knows his hit is gonna land first, yet when he sees the same grin appear on my face, confusion flickers in his eyes. I grit my teeth and turn to avoid getting my ribs broken and let the abs suffer the brunt of the impact, using what nature gave me to defend myself.

His fist sinks a bit into my guts, almost lifting me off the ground and forcing both air and breakfast out of their resting places. I’m close to collapsing, yet I push through, knowing my gamble paid off the moment I endured the worst of his punch.

A savage grin appears on my face, I got him now. I activate Power Burst and my fist kisses his face, kisses it very violently. Kurak falls onto his back, blood pouring from his nose I most likely broke but to my surprise, he gets up. I must’ve missed the jaw…

I quickly spit out the bile that came up from my stomach, then I wipe at my mouth. Only after refocusing on my opponent do I notice cracks on his face, the layer of stone crumbling piece by piece. He wipes the blood from his nose and waves at me to come at him.

I oblige, I can take a few more of these, it’s what I’m the best at.

***

Turns out he had a lot more of those… two more arms worth of those. After struggling against me as I kept utilizing sacrificial strikes he had enough and pulled out his neat new trick.

Time and time again I go on the offensive so he blocks with one pair of arms and attacks with the others making me lose every clash pretty one-sidedly. It’s even worse when I try being defensive, hoping to make the guy tire himself out, so he comes at me with a nasty trick. As I raise my arms to defend myself he just grabs them both and forces my guard open making both of our arms useless. Except he has another set of those.

I take a good beating here, kicking and fighting back as much as I can before signaling my surrender. It’s rare for me to throw in the towel since both in terms of Might and Endurance I’m top-notch so knocking me out is a hard task, still I at least tire him out before giving up the useless struggle. He probably broke a rib or two and beat me black and blue, luckily that’s what a life-attuned Class is for, healing for the win.

“Good one Valka.” Says Kurak, trying to hide the smugness in his gait but I can see it.

“Nice new trick. I have to admit you got me this time. Good fight.” We shake on it, no anger for the beating.

[The general Skill [Manaforged] has reached lvl 38.]

[The general Skill [Pain Tolerance] has reached lvl 22.]

[Your class Skill [Brawling] has reached lvl 24.]

As I said no grudges, it's all worth it in the end, victory or not. We don’t hold back on purpose because neither will the beasts during a hunt and fighting like this is really good for Skill levels. It’s also a form of respect among my people, acknowledging others’ work and dedication.

***

I rest for the remainder of the day, letting my bruises and bones heal, while waiting for dad to return. At nightfall we gather at the central fire to prepare for the meal, eagerly waiting for the haul the hunters are to bring and soon we see people approaching in the dark. It looks like they got back in one piece and by their numbers nobody has died, a lucky hunt.

“Kids, run.” Says one of the older mothers, stepping forward to stand between the new arrivals and the rest of us.

The figures reveal themselves to be human, actual humans, armed to the teeth and with blood dripping from their weapons. They just keep on coming from the woods all around us, eyes flickering with disgusting greed.

What happened to the hunters?