It took them two months overhunting the fourth and fifth rings to gather enough food for the expedition.

Two months against six months of provision: they had been rather productive. But soon the real challenge had proven to be to preserve all that food.

And so, when it was clear all their precautions weren't enough, they decided that desperate situations called for desperate remedies and started to make regular trips back to the seventh ring, for the sole purpose of burying their hoard in the snow, directly after the junction point.

That way, their precious food was well and truly preserved, ad vitam æternam, in the biggest cold room Man has ever seen.

And in the end, they made no less than ten trips back and forth to finally get there.

They even encountered a few people during that time, politely informed them of the challenge ahead, and even escorted a group once — just to ensure they would not steal from their pile of food, as they forgot to properly conceal it. But the group did not cause any issues and they never repeated the same mistakes.

Their food was now undetectable unless some maniac specifically decided to dig the snow on the right spot, there was no more telling apart their pile of food from the rest of the compacted snow — compacted because of the walls and wind force, rather than gravity, but compacted anyway.

And so, now they were about to dig out all that food and load everything up on the oversized sleds they had come up with to do the jobs.

Sophia failed to get anything from that crafting experience. But at least, both sleds were made of system-recognized quarterstaff fastened together. And though the system did not recognize the design. Both the rope and the wood were now system items that could not be taken away from them. And that was all that truly mattered:

They would get to keep, adapt, and upgrade those carriers for a variety of situations. That would decrease their overall speed. And that might be a severe drawback if they ever have to abandon their cargo to a monster. But that was also the guarantee that they would never be caught under-prepared as they were.

"Okay guys, Good job," She praised everyone once they were done packing and securing their precious cargo.

"Now, we are damn lucky we are going to make that trip with the wind on our side, and that gravity is disabled. Cause there is no way we can pull that much. Even if we balanced it, not counting Prince for obvious reasons, it would be 1 tonne each. So now, let's appreciate how truly lucky we are and start pulling our way through all that snow."

They had trained and hardened themselves. They even tried to improve upon their 'tribal' full-length fur coat they had made for their previous attempts.

And yet, despite all that, their cargo was still slowing them down, essentially because of the wind making it do its own thing.

And so, not only were they losing time while advancing, but they were also losing time while securing because they now had to secure the cargo separately too. Although in that case, they were only worried about it getting carried away in the wind. Unlike their own igloo, which had to be perfect to provide the insulation they needed to get back on their feet.

And yet, despite all those constraints. They were certain they had made the right voice this time.

Cause of all the teams they met on the fourth floor, not a single one made it back.

Sophia hoped for them that they were unnecessarily grim and jumping to conclusions. For it was eight full teams they were talking about, 48 people going to their deaths, because they would not listen to how terrible the cold actually was.

After all, an entire ring with no monsters but a single but almighty environmental hazard was hard to believe.

And yet, that was exactly what they got.

Why they met so few people however was probably due to the scale of this floor.

If the first and outer ring had truly been 1440 km in circumference, and everyone got dropped randomly on it with junction points every 360 km or so, there could be about two hundred or so people ahead of them. And about six thousand right on their tails.

And that triggered yet another wild thought while they were waiting to warm up, chilling up inside their newly made igloo.

'System, is the third floor finally cleared? If so, statistics, please.'

There is no one left alive on the first three floors. Hence the statistics for those floors are now complete.

For the record, only 34 people have died on the first floor and 149 people have died on the second floor. 207 people were added to the overall death toll on the third floor. To be noted that those statistics only account for final death. Overall, this amounts to only 6% of this wave cohort.

Accounting for the increased difficulty of each floor, the expected final death toll is currently estimated to be 60%, therefore a survival rate of 40%. That would be 1.6 times better than your species' current best performance.

Though the death toll had been going up, so was their estimated survival rate, which had gone up from 38% to 40% between the second and the third floors. It should be the proof that they were doing something right. Yet she could not lull herself into thinking their 'cohort', as the system called them, was significantly better than the last.

'System, given those statistics, can you tell me how we are faring, compared to the fourth wave?'

The fourth wave's total death rate by the end of the third floor was 11%. 6% is a significant improvement.

Using the fourth wave as a predictive model, the survival rate by the end of the tutorial is re-evaluated to 12%, still above the fourth wave's actual results (7%). In that predictive model, the fifth wave would be second best, instead of first.

However, there is currently not enough data to support this predictive model over the standard one.

So better than the fourth wave, even with the worst possible metrics, but possibly not as good as the legendary six survivors of the third wave? That was understandable. Whatever had been going on with the third wave had significantly on the fourth wave. And therefore the fifth.

They would not have been so numerous to be selected for the fifth wave had it not been for the complete anomaly that the third wave was.

Only 4 teams of six were selected. And one that managed to survive.

When compared to the lone survivor of the first wave or the total wipeout of the second... it was putting things into perspective.

'What about the fourth floor?' She asked though she was already certain of the answer.

This information cannot be disclosed.

Statistics for that floor are not complete.

And so, that's confirmed it. There were still people roaming the fourth floor.

Why people would stay behind was beyond her. Even accounting for their varied passing of time, her four months on this floor would be two months for them. Unless a significant amount of people were actually stocked on the third floor until recently and finally found their way in, in which case, it was a month for them.

Under a month to find their way past the giant earth Elemental was clearly unreasonable and yet, she could understand that better than wasting two months on the fourth floor. Most enemies on the fourth floor should already be dead by now.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

It wasn't a video game. Monsters were not respawning. One of the crazy theories that the system resources had helped her clear early on. Therefore, the slaughter they had made on the fourth ring would have lasting effects. Until the next mating season at the very least. But it might have a lasting impact on the ring ecology.

As they had taken out a lot of the local biomass to get their 5 tonnes of meats and edible plants. Though the plants had been mostly collected and used for spicing and avoiding scurvy. They probably did not have even one tonne of the stuff.

And then, the two hours of waiting had already elapsed and so, they were back on the road, again.

★☆★

This time around, when they reached the ten-day mark and their technical speed had been divided by almost two, caused they could only survive in the cold for forty minutes instead of sixty, they were prepared.

They knew that soon, their temporary shelter strategy would be rendered obsolete and that they would have to rely on Prince full-time. Solely because they could not build their igloo any faster to make it worth it.

And so, they had been reduced to walking for 20 minutes every 2 hours and a half.

So they were doing more trips, but shorter. Seven of them in total. One more run than before but each, twice as short.

Even pushing themselves as much as they could they could not compensate for the loss.

But they had prepared for it. Just as they had prepared for the likely next stage of this hellish ring.

★☆★

It took them two weeks and three days more to finally face it.

The twenty minutes outside before getting the instant first stage frostbite. The minus -25°C degree Celsius.

They were 27 days in the ring. 27 days in the snow, and the utterly painful cold.

But only now did things get serious.

Because they finally got it: their first frostbite.

Even taking all the precautions in the world, it was bound to happen.

And now they were stuck, waiting on Moana to give her diagnosis. Cause the team's survival depended on it. They could not afford to stay here for too long. But they also could not move if that meant one of them would lose a hand. Or to be more specific, because it was her brother: if Lono were to lose a hand.

It was of no fault of his own. It could have been anyone else. And they were all following their sacrosanct protocol to the letter and getting back inside at the first sign of discomfort. But even acting immediately and now relying solely on Prince shelter, there was always a delay, if only of thirty seconds. Plus, even inside, it would take several minutes for the temperature to rise up, giving enough time for the minor frostbite to settle, as Moana assured them that speeding up the process with fire would only make the frostnip worse.

And so they waited.

"He is going to be alright." Moano announced, "One day rest and he is going to be as good as new. Now that he is treated, you are allowed to start a fire. And 15 minutes outside is clearly too long already. We are going to make it 12. And I would take no argument.

Lono could have been grounded for 14 days instead of 1. And that did not even account for second-stage frostbite, which could take up to 6 months to heal. Or the third stage, which would result in outright amputation as the only answer in our current predicament. Remember: up to 14 days for a frostnip. In exchange, 12 minutes instead of 15 is not asking for a lot. Thank you."

Sophia did not feel threatened by Moana taking the lead this time around. Her arguments were sensible: taking some more protection now to prevent losing even more time later. And so she backed Moana's authority with her own.

And yet even after 27 days, they were only halfway in, the best-case scenario.

With an 11-minute and 30-second run and Prince's almost instant shelter, they could do a repeat about 8 times a day, so about 92 minutes of progress every day. So it would take them no less than 41 days to make the other half of the trip.

But that was okay. This time. They had come overprepared. Following Paolo's advice, they had stocked up for 205 worth of food before the expedition. So they could survive a hundred days in and still return with their lives if they failed, again.

But a 65-day trip to their last estimated speed? That was still far from their worst-case scenario.

Even if their daily progress made Sophia want to cry: three kilometers and eight hundred meters.

She had no idea of this ring's circumference. Only that it had to be inferior to all those that came before. But if it was even comparable to the 1440km of the first ring and the 360 km they had to go through. They would indeed need 41 to 46 days at this speed to reach the next junction point. Assuming they were truly halfway through. Assuming that they were not slowed down any more than this, which was unlikely.

But at least, their preparation for 205 days of food should be an overkill. Unless the next ring was exactly the same or worse. In which case, they were dead. Sure they could turn back and survive but what then? What sort of amount of preparation and food could be enough for not one, but two rings of this frozen wasteland?

And that was why Sophia had herself convinced that they should reach the source of the cold before they got to the junction point. Because it would otherwise kill them. If the entire upper rings of the station were submitted to that kind of wind and cold...

By the time they reached the end of the eighth ring, it would reach -50°C. Forget about frostbite: at those temperatures, humans could not even survive outside. Inuit were known to survive that kind of cold at night... safely within their igloo, still sleeping at -10°C inside. Enough to keep them alive. But clearly not optimal for sleeping. But if it was doing -50°C day and night... it was game over. They would be stuck there until they ran out of food. And they would all be preserved in ice for all eternity as soon as Prince would die, instantly dispelling his shelter that was keeping them all safe.

That was the kind of gory end that awaited them if Sophia was wrong.

And so it couldn't be cause of the tutorial was only throwing at them challenges that they could beat.

It was a cyclical reasoning. But a cyclical reasoning that so far had proven true.

★☆★

35 days in the seventh ring. And yet another frostbite. Paolo this time, and just as mild as the first.

But they had yet to concede 2 other minutes for safety.

Which instantly turned their 68-day trip into a 75-day trip. It wasn't that much of a difference. But just like this, they were under instead of over the halfway mark. In terms of time, at least. In terms of kilometers, they should be way past the halfway point, or else... they would die.

It was still possible, Sophia reminded herself. They had prepared for a worst-case scenario of a 100-day trip.

But they were slowly getting there. Right now, it would only take their timer to go down to 6 minutes.

Obviously, the timer was here to stay. For hopefully another week at least.

But then they would go down to 8 minutes. And then to 6 minutes in a couple of weeks.

In all likelihood, the temperature would become unhealthy to even get outside for a full minute before they even got close to the objective. It was one hell of a puzzle: the longer they went, the harder it was to go the extra kilometer.

And so they would be stuck at 90% and unable to continue. So close to the finish line and yet unable to cross it.

Or so Sophia feared. She was now making nightmares of it: her and her team, freezing to death with eyes range of the junction point.

But that was still if her theory that the source of cold was closer than the junction point.

Her point was: the cold was getting more intense. Therefore they must be getting closer. Alarmingly so.

And if she had no thermometer to help prove her claim. She had Moana protocol... and the two frostnip incidents.

They had to be so very damn close.

They had to.

★☆★

And then, six days later, it was Moana's turn to get frostnip.

And so it was time for Sophia and her to have a conversation.

"It's been 41 days Moana. And only three mild frostnips. You should be proud. But at this rate, we would not reach our destination for any 34 days. You know as well as me that it means plenty of frostnip or even true frostbite on our way to get there.

We can't keep losing so much daily progress indefinitely. We are already moving at 3.3 kilometers per day, against 3.8 after the first frostnip. If we move to 8mn per trip, we instantly get to 2.5 kilometers per day, and the number of days we have go to through goes back up to 44 days.

People are going to lose morale at some point if we keep announcing we are still merely halfway through the trip. It's your choice Moana. I won't rule out your decision this time. But it will be the last. We simply cannot get to 6 min or 2.0 kilometers per day. We don't have the food to afford it. Unless we forgo all hope of turning back if we are wrong."

Or more specifically, any lower than 6mn per trip, like let's say 4mn. And their total trip would shoot up to 103 days. Which was exactly the worst-case scenario they had prepared for. Literally, if they ever admitted they were on that trajectory, it was the same as admitting another failure, and then turning back to lick their wound.

When they were clearly fine, or mostly fine at least.

And Sophia knew it: no amount of preparation or food could help them here.

It was a test of resilience. Or a literal leap of faith. But anyway, they had to make it.

Or give up and live their days on the fifth floor until someone else would clear it from them

"I'm not going to make any announcement this time around." Moano sighed, "Call it what you want but you are right. We can't afford to harden the rules like this each time there is going to be an accident. But there are still going to be more frequent and at some point. We will have to make the shift, from ten minutes to eight."

"And if you are reasonable about it and speak about it before outright announcing it, I would even be your bearer of bad news." Sophia conceded." But please, try to keep us going at speed for as long as medically reasonable."

And so, all in all, that mostly political meeting has gone smoothly.