As it turned out, his next mission was far from easy, but it paid quadruple what the wyvern one did.

Why killing what was basically a more humanoid polar bear was regarded as being worth four miniature dragons was beyond him.

He’d just taken the job and grabbed a few guns and other provisions before heading into the man-made rift.

Despite wearing a thick, woollen jacket and waterproof coat, the stinging cold air still managed to sap the warmth from his body. The worst part about it, though, was how it burnt his nostrils every time he inhaled.

He was taking things slow, making sure not to slip on anything or tumble into a hidden burrow. This arctic wasteland had apparently been the cause of several other hunter's deaths.

Perhaps there was some redeemable quality about this place but the ever-present snowflakes obscured his vision too much. An entire mountain range could be just a few miles ahead and he wouldn’t know.

It’s why he’d come, hopefully, over prepared; his semi-automatic rifle loaded with armour-piercing bullets should be enough to deal with anything at medium to long distances while his double barrel shotgun could put the hurt on anything close by.

He’d even taken a flare gun as his backup-backup weapon. He’d preferred to have grabbed one of those wizard wands that spat out fire, but a single one of those cost more than all the equipment he’d used so far.

Following the tugging feeling that enveloped his whole body, he came across something that made his already cold blood run even colder.

A large crater lay directly before him; a giant, gaping wound that had penetrated some eight yards of snow.

This snow had been melted by some past storm, creating slopes leading smoothly into the pitch-blackness of the ocean.

It was like an antlion trap. In fact, how could he be certain that the slopes weren’t created by some giant creature spraying out the water rather than the rain?

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his Hunted Hunter boon activated and every single hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

His limbs felt like lead, he wanted nothing more than to turn into an unfeeling and indestructible statue of ice.

It was like he was in a train, knowing minutes before it happened that it was going to derail but there was nothing he could do to stop it or escape.

He couldn’t breathe, such an easy and simple thing for any human to do now felt like an impossibility. Breathing would disturb the silence. Breathing would kill him.

He’d have remained frozen in place and killed if not for the aid his Survivor skill provided. Barely managing to overcome the fear, he turned right around and began to desperately sprint away as fast as he could manage, which turned out to be over double his previous maximum speed thanks to Hunted Hunter.

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After a terrified minute of non-stop running, the boon faded and he slowed down, panting hard as he drew in the sharp, harsh air.

Bile appeared in his raw throat but he hastily spat it out, exhaling hard and fast, he turned back around to the now impossible-to-spot crater.

Just what was that thing?

How many of them were there?

Why did it stop?

The answers to all those questions and more completely eluded him. He couldn’t even reassure himself that it hadn’t gone after him since he was too small, since his boon clearly activated.

Before this, he’d just wanted to kill the yeti and leave so he could get paid and get out of this climate. Now he just wanted to get away from whichever sea beast had made that hole.

A horrifying thought was conceived in his mind: What if that sea monster was just an infant? Antlions were infants… maybe it was as well.

He could be walking right above an enormous serpent that could give Jörmungandr a run for its money, and he wouldn’t even know.

He felt terrified to take another step, frightened that he might awaken some ancient horror with the vibrations.

Eventually, his Survivor boon dissipated this unnatural fear that had taken hold of him, and he regained his courage.

It was an unpleasant experience to discover that this skill protected him psychologically as well, though it did bring a slight smile to his face.

When he’d received Survivor, he’d felt rather un-optimistic and disappointed. Another passive skill to go with the other two he’d already gotten and, even though it was his third boon, it seemed worse than his first. All it offered him was resistance. That was it.

He didn’t think it would be too much help in a fight, since the human body wasn’t cut out for close-quarters combat with anything that wasn’t at least half their size, so he’d relegated it to a very useful wilderness skill but rather poor combative one.

So it was quite ironic how mere hours later it saved his life from some bizarre sea creature. He didn’t catch a glimpse of the beast, but if the bonus he got was anything to go by, it could have squashed him like a bug.

Pulling out an insulated canteen, he gulped down some icy water, ate two energy bars then walked a few dozen yards to his left.

He went back to following his Tracking boon, hoping that this time he wouldn’t run into any more sea-antlion traps.

Rather than craters, what ended up greeting him was the onset of a storm after about a mile.

Layers of snow gently fluttered downwards and softened his path. He hastened his pace in response, taking advantage of the decreased risk he had of slipping and wanting to leave before it got worse.

By the time he reached the yeti’s burrow, the expansive plains of snow and ice he could easily see before were all obscured. Even spotting anything past a few yards in front of his face was becoming difficult.

He discovered the burrow not by sight, but by hearing the crackle and snap of a toughfish bone as he stamped onwards.

Their white skeletons were difficult to spot and more than a little buried, so he was quite surprised when he stepped on one.

How the yeti had gotten the fish was beyond him; perhaps there was a very thin layer of ice somewhere where it went to catch them.

The thought made him shudder a little; at least now it would all be over quickly.

Shouldering his shotgun, he began the process of unearthing the burrow.