I set off in the way I was going, following Kikiara the Seeker’s instructions. Then, as she had said, I saw a tree-line of a pine forest rise in the distance. Feeling the ache in my muscles and a little wary of relying again on [Vigour] in case I ran into more enemies, I set off at a light jog. The icy surface of the lake was difficult to move on without the Skill’s help, especially with my string-tied sandals, which I was still getting used to. A couple of times, a misstep caused me to yelp and go tumbling and sliding off-balance, but I just about managed to right myself each time before I fell flat on my face.

Perhaps a few miles of difficult walk later, I reached the edge of the lake and stopped a moment to catch my breath. The wind was less severe here, and the smell of pine sap was carried on the breeze; familiar from the curated little park near the MegaCorp building back on Earth.

Then I truly felt the cold for the first time that day; my fingertips went numb and the skin was starting to redden. I wrapped the cloak tight around my arms and hopped up and down, trying to warm myself.

My Constitution only goes so far, it seems.

Then from the deep green of the snow-laden trees, two red orbs swayed into view. Low at first, then growing taller, and from the dark stepped a huge, heavy foot, throwing up a snow-bank. Spiked white fur went up a thick leg and its wide, barrel-like chest, and to its bestial, ape-like head. I touched the Analysis Card.

Fiend :

Abominable, Level 19

Stats :

Str 28, Dex 12, Con 18, Mnd 3

Attacks :

Beat Chest, Body Slam, Crush, Pound, Suplex

Loot :

Huge Spiked Pelt, Steel Fang, Abominable Heart

Weakness :

Slow windup

XP :

102

The only thing that I really took in was that final number.

102! That’d get me straight up to and past Level 2 and nearly all the way to Level 3!

I licked my lips.

Come to Papa.

I slipped my shield off my shoulder, gripped the leather strap tight and rested my spear along it like I’d seen in a cool retro film about shirtless Spartans, and edged forwards.

The yeti remained stationary for another moment, watching, its bright red eyes blinked once. Then it exploded out of the pine wood, a small tree splintered in its wake as it brought its massive, girder-thick arms out to the side. One leap forwards and it covered half the distance, then slammed its knuckles again and again into its chest.

BOOM. Mind-numbing, bone-trembling echoes boomed out of its sternum and ricocheted off the surface of the lake behind me. Heavy gluts of snow were loosed from the heavy pine branches. An awful pain racked through my head.

It leapt again, I crouched an inch and grit my teeth as the pain kept coming on and on, rooting me to the spot. A heartbeat away from impact, and terror hit me full in the mind. [Battle Tactics] came on. A sharp scream overtook my mind. Far too late:

RUN!

The full force of the yeti slammed into my shield, my arm bent almost to breaking and I was thrown backwards and away six yards like a thrown shot. Silence and wind. The creaking of a broken shield. The roar and echo reverberated through my brain — I couldn’t shift my body for the landing.

SLAM my back found the floor with a crunch. Bleary-eyed, I struggled to a foot and knee and spun my head around, trying to level my gaze at the beast.

Relentless, eyes burning red, it leapt from the bank and sailed over the ice above me. It took every ounce of Strength I had to reach deep, a fourth [Vigour] gave me enough to roll over and I felt it land with a sickening thud and crack on the ice where my face had just been.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

My Wooden Shield had a ghastly rend through the centre of it — the wood barely held together by a thin line of hammered bronze. The yeti roared again, its wide mouth spitting bile. It raised both its arms above its head.

The Bronze Spear forgotten at my side, I brought my shield up and held it strong against both forearms.

The IMPACT of the first blow still shuddered through my frame, then the second came and splintered the shield. Shards of wood exploded either side of me and over my chest as I was left holding only the leather grip and the crumpled bronze. My arms were beaten, bruised and bloody.

I glanced up at it, wordless panic and fumbling, but managed to look it straight in the eyes — FULL BLOODY FURY looked back at me. It raised a dustbin-lid-sized fist again.

Then there was a whirring noise, and a faint flash against the white-grey sky. A World Gate tore open high above the yeti’s shoulders. Even in its frenzy, it flinched at the noise and light and raised its head.

From the World Gate, a man appeared, if he could be called such. He was a rippling mass of honed and controlled muscle, his entire body a weapon. Through handsome human features gleamed bright eyes and shining, elongated wolf teeth. Bare and violent in almost every way, all he wore was the bottom half of a chiton — basically an airy white skirt. In the moment, I frantically crawled away backwards, but did not dare avert my eyes from the scene.

The man and the yeti roared at each other as he plummeted towards the ground. The yeti brought an arm around to swat him out of the air, but in one movement the man twisted his body fully about and avoided it by a hair, as if by instinct. He landed hard on the yeti’s shoulders and linking his fists together and high above his head, brought them down with another wild cry onto the yeti’s face.

Blood sprayed out in a cloud and the yeti staggered. Still aloft, a leg over each shoulder, the man brought his fists up again and DOWN with a crunch. The spiked beast let out a muffled roar, then brought its arms up and slammed hard into the man’s shoulders, gripping strong. The man’s eyes widened and his teeth clenched as he raised his arms again. A brittle crushing filled the air as he landed his fists again and again, bringing red streaks with them, covering the ice in a hot, scarlet mist.

The yeti’s arms went limp at its sides as the barrage continued. Then it dropped to its knees, then began to fall backwards. I scrambled further away as the enormous shadow loomed and fell and slammed down, breaking ice just inches in front of me and sending whining cracks into the surface of the lake which sang off the mountains. Another hammer blow, and another. The yeti twitched and its head became pulp.

Drenched in gore, panting like a wild animal, red hair a mess over his face and neck, the man straightened his back and howled into the bleak wilderness. The echoes bounded for a long while, and all I could do was stare.

Quiet fell over the twisted Shards of Korgoth. I tossed the useless grip of my splintered shield aside, scrambled to my feet and found my spear. I put some distance between myself and the man. Great bursts of steam rose from his shoulders as he heaved on the frozen lake, standing and swaying.

“Who — who are you? S-speak!”

My command whispered hoarsely out of me.

The man’s flashing eyes met mine, and blinking, he noticed me for what seemed to be the first time. He wiped his face free of blood and pushed his hands back through his hair.

“Who am I?”

His voice was imperious and deep, and accented, but I couldn’t place it. He took a step towards me.

“D-don’t come any closer!”

I shifted backwards again, my spearhead bounced at its full extent. He took another step.

“I am the Prowling Beast! I am the savagery that even the wind fears! I am the Combative Flame! I am Alator!”

That stopped me in my tracks. Despite the bloody carcass beside us, his handiwork — what had become of the enormous Abominable creature that had been quite simply and easily about to take my life — I couldn’t help but stand still, cringe and shake my head. The LARP was too intense; it was simply too embarrassing for him to have been from Earth.

“It’s gotta be a New Worlds character. . . . Or do NPCs exist?”

// SYS : No, there are no characters that are directly controlled by a System. Everyone within a New World is a person — as much as Earthlings are, anyway. //

The energy shifted in the air, the last of the bouncing echoes of howl and screeching ice left my ears, and my blood began to cool.

“There is nothing peace-y about me. I am the Prowling Be—”

“I heard — your wind is really scary. I’m Talbot. Let me — let me check your Stats.” I put a finger to the Analysis Card.

// SYS ERR 69 : No profile found. //

“Nice — uh — this is odd. . . . I’m new to this, I don’t. . . .”

// SYS : Creating profile based on available parameters. Loading. //

My jaw dropped as the text started to ping up one-by-one above his head.

Name :

Alator of the Wheel of the Sun, Level ?

Stats :

Str ?, Dex ?, Con 28, Mnd ?

Skills :

Battle Tactics Lvl 10

Influence Lvl 10

Survivalism Lvl 10

Vigour Lvl 10

Weapon Mastery Lvl 10

Special :

Solar Flare

Weakness :

Raging pride

Home :

?

// SYS ERR 69 : Unknown Level. Unknown Home World. //

“N-nice?”