Hearing that Jack knew how to find the third bear, Amari perked up. “Alright, genius. Let’s hear this plan of yours.”

  Jack cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening. “I met the One-Eyes because I… uh… fell into one of their traps.”

  Amari’s grin widened, the kind of grin that said, Oh, this is going in a future video. “You fell into a trap?”

  “They used a goat as bait,” Jack shot back defensively.

  Amari tilted his head, mock-thoughtful. “Did it work?”

  “Well, not on a bear,” Jack admitted. “But remember that roar when I called you? That might’ve been one nearby.”

  Amari’s grin faded as he leaned forward, his tone sharpening. “You think we need to use the One-Eyes’ trap to find the third bear?”

  Jack nodded, relieved Amari was taking him seriously now. “We’re heading that way anyway.”

  Amari clapped him on the shoulder. “Now we’re talking! Let’s go.”

  They marched through the snow, following the small entourage of One-Eyed hunters. Their pace was steady but seemed faster than when they’d hauled Jack back to their village—maybe it was just his impression because he wasn’t being dragged like a sack of potatoes this time but walking on his own two feet. Or maybe they had walked slower because they were carrying him. The memory still made his shoulders tense.

  “They’re really cute, aren’t they?” Amari commented as they followed.

  Jack shot him an annoyed glance. “Sure, if they’re not hunting you down and dragging you through the snow.”

  Amari raised his hands in mock surrender, chuckling. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

  Jack couldn’t think of the One-Eyes as cute, but he had to give it some points for their courage. They were much smaller than he was and still walked without hesitation, their steady steps never faltering. They had to be very brave, or crazy, to leave the safety of their village to hunt short-faced bears.

  Jack recognized an oddly shaped rock that seemed impossibly inclined, on the verge of toppling but somehow still able to defy gravity. This is the spot where they trapped, he thought grimly.

  The One-Eyes began positioning near the trap. Their movements were swift, almost synchronized, as they burrowed into the snow. One by one, they disappeared, leaving only faint outlines of their bodies visible beneath the surface. A shimmer passed over their fur, the yellow and green fading like watercolors washing away, leaving snowy white in its place. Jack hated to admit it, but their camouflage was incredible.

  One of the hunters carried a small, battered bag and started spreading its contents—a dark liquid Jack could only assume was goat blood—over the snow. Red streaks stained the pristine white, a stark splash of life and death painted against the cold expanse.

  “That’s where they trapped me,” Jack muttered, gesturing to the patch of snow that concealed the hole. “There’s a pretty deep hole under there.”

  “I can’t blame you for falling into it. It’s really well covered.”

  A sharp chittered command came from one of the camouflaged One-Eyes, and the goat began bleating, each cry cutting through the air with startling desperation.

  Jack couldn’t help but marvel at how much he’d missed before. The trap setup was nearly flawless. The only thing I’d change is smearing some blood on the goat too. She’s too clean.

  The bleats echoed into the distance, sharp and unrelenting, carried further by the wind.

  Jack glanced around, watching as the gusts picked up loose snow, sending faint swirls dancing across the ground. The subtle movement made everything else feel even more unnervingly still.

  Amari’s earlier humor had faded. “Think it’ll work?”

  Jack didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the trap. “I doubt it. If it did, why would they ask for our help? But I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Should we look for some cover?”

  “That rock over there looks like a good spot,” Amari suggested.

  Jack nodded, and the two made their way to the jagged formation. It was tall and uneven but offered a perfect vantage point. Carefully, they climbed to the top and lay flatce.

  The air was unnervingly still, broken only by the occasional whistle of wind as it swept across the open ground. Lying on the frozen rock, Jack felt the cold biting through his clothes. The goat’s cries kept ringing.

  They waited but no bear came.

  “Maybe the trap isn't meant for bears, but for players in the Breach,” Amari said finally, breaking the silence.

  “Maybe,” Jack said. “Want to go already?”

  “Let's wait a little more.”

  After a few minutes, Several notifications started ringing. Uh? What happened? Jack raised an eyebrow and skimmed through them.

  Your mead has aged successfully.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  +200XP in [Brewing]

  Your mead hasn’t aged properly and has become bitter.

  Your mead hasn’t aged properly and has become bitter.

  Jack’s eyes widened. While he’d been out here adventuring, enough time had passed for all the mead he’d left at the well of the fortress to reach the next tier.

  Most of the notifications told him the mead hadn’t aged properly, but some did break through to the next tier and his XP bar was growing steadily!

  Receiving news of some progress was a welcome reprieve from the cold and the uneventful wait. It gave him something good to look forward to. After a few minutes, another batch of mead aged successfully, and his heart skipped a beat when he finally unlocked a new level.

  Congratulations! You’ve reached level 6 in [Brewing].

  You’ve learned a new skill: [Vinegar Making].

  Vinegar Making (Common)

  Skill level: 1

  Skill description: When aging spirits turn sour due to bacterial growth, the result isn’t a failure—it’s vinegar, a valuable ingredient in its own right.

  Skill effects: Failed spirits automatically transform into vinegar.

  New synergy detected between [Bushcraft] and [Brewing]: [Survival Pickling].

  Survival Pickling (Rare)

  Skill level: 1

  Skill description: Vinegar can preserve food through pickling, extending its shelf life in harsh environments.

  Skill effects: Store food in vinegar to create pickled foods.

  Jack couldn’t help but sit up straighter.

  “Oh my!” he muttered, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

  Amari pulled him back down. “Hush! What happened? Did you see something?”

  “Sorry. No, no,” Jack said, shaking his head quickly. “I just got some good news. I leveled up in brewing.”

  Amari tilted his head, studying Jack’s expression. “You look way too happy about this. What did you get?”

  Jack grinned. “New skills. Vinegar making.”

  “How does that work?”

  “If mead doesn't age well it turns to vinegar.”

  Amari frowned. “I thought there’d be something juicier.”

  “Haha. You’re not wrong. I got a cool new skill.”

  “Let’s hear it!”

  Jack paused for dramatic effect. “Pickling!”

  “Pickling?” Amari repeated, blinking.

  Jack nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I can preserve food now. I can give you guys pickled food for you to take on expeditions and stuff. Now, nothing will go to waste. Leftover roots, wild vegetables, even meat—anything edible could become long-lasting rations. I think.”

  “That is interesting!” Amari paused, considering the possibilities. “Being able to preserve food, even if by pickling it. You’re starting to look more and more like someone with the [Chef] major.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes. You’re starting to make more dishes, and are able to handle more ingredients, like meat, honey and alcohol. Now you can also preserve stuff using vinegar. It’s very interesting. I tell you, I’m feeling tempted to go become a handyman myself.”

  Jack could tell that Amari was joking with that last remark, but what he said got him thinking. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to have my own food stall at the market. Who am I kidding? Probably not.

  Your mead hasn’t aged properly and has become bitter. You’ve crafted [Honey Vinegar].

  +20XP in [Brewing]

  The new skill was already at work and slightly increasing his XP gains.

  Were it not for the goat’s desperate bleats and the howling wind, Jack might have forgotten that they were here, waiting for a massive bear to show up.

  The silence stretched again, broken only by the occasional whistle of wind and the sharp, plaintive cries of the goat. After a few moments, Amari’s voice broke through, barely audible over the cold.

  “I was thinking... if one of the conditions for finishing this involves a trap, we might be better off calling Horace over. He’s a trapper, after all.”

  Jack wrinkled his nose. He didn’t mind the thought of Horace experiencing this cold, harsh landscape. But knowing Horace, he would absolutely count this hidden package as a point in his favor. Jack wasn’t sure his pride could handle that.

  However, the cold got the better of him. “Very well,” he said reluctantly.

  “I’m also running low on stamina and energy,” Amari added. “I’m out of rations. And pickles,” he added with a grin. “Thanks for nothing, by the way.”

  Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. Amari continued, his voice turning more practical. “If the bear doesn’t show in the next ten minutes, we’ll head down the road. Together, maybe we can explore the pin I marked on that road and then continue on to the fortress. After that, we can send Horace up here to help the One-Eyes set their trap.”

  “So be it,” Jack said, though his mind was already wandering. He’d been away from the fortress for over four hours. There was this new cooking skill and the pottery recipe to try. It was tempting to call it a day and start experimenting somewhere warm.

  Jack’s head snapped back to the trap as a new sound emerged—a low, rumbling growl, almost lost in the howl of the wind. The goat’s cries shifted suddenly, growing more frantic.

  “Did you hear that?” Jack whispered.

  Amari nodded. “Yes. It’s going to happen soon.”

  The growling grew closer and closer, then stopped suddenly. The bear was near, silently prowling. The goat kept up its act. It wasn’t just a good actor—it was a brave one. Any other animal would have bolted by now.

  Jack wondered how the One-Eyes had trained it so well. If he could learn the etching pattern about raising goats from the chamber walls, maybe he could raise animals like this too. Brave, reliable, and cunning—having an army of fearless goat actors around didn’t sound like the worst idea for future expeditions.

  The bear arrived. It was so large it could easily be mistaken for one of the many boulders dotting the snowy landscape. Its black fur seemed to absorb the light. Despite its size it moved with terrifying grace.

  It approached the goat, sniffing the air, drawn by the scent of blood. The goat’s bleats intensified. The bear crept closer, each step deliberate. Just as it was about to reach the goat, its massive paw stepped on the trap. The ground gave way, and the bear collapsed into the hole.

  The One-Eyes converged instantly, throwing nets upon nets over the trapped bear and screaming in triumph.

  “They did it!” Jack spoke in hushed tones, still too afraid to reveal their location.

  “I’ll be right back,” Amari said suddenly, disappearing before Jack could respond.

  “Wait, Amari!” Jack called, but he was already gone. His heart pounded as he scanned the snowy expanse, unsure of what Amari was planning.

  After what felt like an eternity, Amari reappeared, his expression grim. “I think it’s about time we run,” he said, his tone serious.

  “What?” Jack asked, his nerves already on edge.

  “They won’t be able to hold the bear for long. The hole’s too shallow. It's already breaking the nets”

  “Okay.” Jack didn’t need to be told twice.

  As they climbed down from the rock, Jack halted.

  “Jack?! What are you doing?! Move!”

  “J-just give me a second.” Jack sprinted a short distance to get within earshot of the One-Eyes. “Run away! The trap won’t hold!”

  The One-Eyes kept celebrating, ignoring Jack completely.

  “Run! The bear’s a good climber! Run away!” he yelled again, desperation creeping into his voice.

  Amari appeared and grabbed his arm. “We have to go, Jack. We’re low on stamina. There’s no way we can outrun the bear in this cold.”

  Reluctantly, Jack let Amari pull him away. As they put distance between themselves and the trap, an angry roar echoed behind them, followed by faint chittering sounds.

  The snow crunched beneath their feet as they ran. Jack’s breath came in short bursts, visible in the freezing air. He found himself hoping that the One-Eyes were running too—and that it wasn’t already too late for them.

  Come check it out here