I ventured deep beneath the earth, though it was strange to realise that I was still well above my companions in a physical sense, nestled safely as they were in beside the Basin of Tears many miles below. I spent at least a bell descending the tunnel of ice, crunching through gravel embedded within the frozen floor.

  I wondered idly where the small rocks had come from, as they seemed almost too perfect as a form of grip for it to be natural, before my mind returned to the ancient cavern that Alvorak – or the demi-god pretending to be her – had dwelt within.

  The roots that carved tunnels through the solid rock were in many ways small fry when compared to what the Deep-Worms were said to be capable of. Perhaps some gelid cousin of theirs dwelt in the frozen peaks, eating through ice and rock with ease to form such tunnels that I now walked through.

  The gravel could be explained by errant rocks being crushed to pulp beneath the titanic bulk of such a creature, but I wasn’t sure that it was anymore reassuring than the idea that some crafty creature had laid a trap for animals like myself that couldn’t swim through ice.

  “That’s why I’ve got you with me though, aye?” I whispered to my new spear, admiring it in the dim blue light. Not much daylight pierced the depths, but what little did had a way of bouncing around the various passages and through the thick ice walls such that everywhere I looked held an austere glow.

  The first creature I killed with my new spear wasn’t even real. An Ice Wraith, as it was rather unimaginably named, had risen from the floor of the tunnel before me and lunged, frost-rimed hands encircling my neck and decaying mouth parting in a silent scream.

  It was strangely incorporeal, though not completely, so its fingers managed to slip inside my throat, filling my lungs with cold air and making me feel as if I was on the verge of death. It also meant that I could dive straight through it, and it turned in the air to face me while I did the same.

  We stood only a meter or so apart as I rose from my crouch, but my spear-point now stood between us. Despite the relative advantage that it had in its habitat, it was too low levelled to pose much of a threat to me once I had learned the limits of its speed and reach.

  My spear point did little to harm it, but the ochre haft seemed to find more resistance as it pushed through its neck, and once I realised what was happening, it was a quick fight. The magic-infused spear haft crushed its head on my third mighty swing, and the creature dissipated into nothing more than wisps of snow.

  You have killed an Ice Wraith – Level 32. Experience gained.

  It was a familiar message by the time I had traversed deep enough to begin to find caverns within the lattice of tunnels. I’d even earned a level from my wanton slaughter of the denizens of this frozen place, and I distributed the attribute points into perception and strength equally. I would need to increase my agility soon to balance things out, but after speaking to Jorge I knew I had more freedom to specialise than I’d initially thought.

  Ancestry: Human (unevolved)

  Level: 41

  Class: Blood of the Hills

  Titles: God-touched

  Attribute allocation:

  Strength: 45

  Agility: 32

  Endurance: 33

  Perception: 35

  Cognition: 40

  Available attributes: 0

  Current skills:

  Guerrilla Warfare: Level 9. Passive.

  Tilt: Level 1. Active.

  Heart of the Hills: Level 9. Active.

  Check Step: Level 10. Active.

  Indomitable Prey: Level 10. Active.

  Skirmisher of Antiquity: Level 10. Passive.

  Mountain-Born: Level 11. Passive

  Faultline: Level 9. Active.

  The great tunnel boring a hole through the mountain had started to level out a few hundred meters back, and as I emerged into the first cavern, I was pleased to see it was relatively flat. Sadrianna had been clear that the biggest danger in this region was not some native beast or creature of the deep, but rather natural in origin.

  ‘Crevasses have killed more clansmen than the Springtooth’ as she put it. A tilt to the cavern’s floor would indicate subsidence in the structure of the caves beneath and thus a higher chance of death by crevasse. Luckily not an issue for now, at least in this cavern.

  No; the biggest danger in this place did, in fact, turn out to be a creature of the deep after all, despite Sadrianna’s warning. The only thing that helped me survive the ambush was the shining brilliance of the icy floor, and my own vanity.

  Unlike the tunnel, the ground of the cavern was not studded with gravel, but instead layered with frost. I noticed my footprints as soon as I moved a few steps into the open chamber and stopped to sweep away the thin layer of hoar frost with one hand and look down into the vaguely reflective surface of the ice.

  There was a depthless quality to it – despite knowing I was standing over what was likely a mile or more of ice, riddled with tunnels and caves and rock, and all manner of creatures – it seemed to me that I was looking into a mirror.

  I saw my own face reflected, brown eyes strangely liquid in the crinkled mirror, scars on the shaved side of my head standing out stark in the cold…and above me, the descending form of a beast, arthropod body falling silently towards my back with deadly intent.

  Eyes widening in alarm, I dived forwards, Check-Step activating even as I rolled across the ground. 6 legs scrabbled against ice where I had been only heartbeats before, and I turned to behold the creature that had tried to ambush me.

  It was some sort of insect. Its distended abdomen extended at least two meters from a short thorax, crowned by a wide and flat head, split vertically down the middle. From the rent in its skull that passed for a mouth, three waving tendrils emerged, rubbery and tongue-like, though far longer.

  It emitted a high-pitched screech, its six thin legs clacking against the floor. It was big, four meters long in total and at least half a meter tall. Its legs were strangely articulated, like that of a lizard, and so it seemed to crouch there in place, waiting for me to make my move before it pounced.

  I brought my shield up before me, and then grimaced. My paranoia had been useful, as demonstrated only moments ago, but now it prevented me from using one of my most powerful skills. I couldn't bring myself to risk using Faultline in this environment.

  The thought of compromising the structural integrity of the tunnel and then falling to a slow death; crushed, suffocating…it was still vastly preferable to being eaten alive by a giant insect, but still; death wasn’t my aim here.

  Nevertheless, Faultline wasn’t my only skill, and so I psyched myself up for the fight ahead, feeling the hair on my arms and legs prickling with anticipation. My skin itched and my blood started to sing along with the primal drumbeat resounding in my chest.

  I unstoppered the metaphorical cork in my core, mana starting to gush outwards, flowing into my pathbound skill. Indomitable Prey unfurled its wings around my soul, and I felt outrage take the place of disgust as I considered this creature before me. It had dared to make me prey, and that was unacceptable.

  I shuffled forward with quick steps, driving short, sharp strikes with my spear to test its reactions. The creature screeched again and raised its forearms to block. It was surprisingly nimble, and it seemed to be able to scuttle around with its back legs alone, the two more developed limbs at its front held in a high guard reminiscent of a praying mantis.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Despite the lack of visible muscle, the creature was strong and fast, and the firm exoskeleton sheathing its limbs from serrated claw to shoulder joint helped deflect my spearhead with ease. Each strike blocked caused a metallic shing! to echo around the cavernous space, and it didn’t take long for the persistent ringing to worm its way into my mind.

  I felt nausea build in my belly as we danced around in a frost-rimed cave filled with frozen teeth. It seemed that sound was amplified, echoing out and multiplying rather than dispersing, and my head started to thrum with pain.

  I trusted in Mountain-Born to keep my footing as we fought, but my balance was starting to feel less secure. The floor began to tilt, dizziness creeping into my body insidiously. With dread, I realised that this must be a skill of the creature, and it was deflecting my strikes with such precision as to create different tones and sounds from the impact. It was slowly creating a symphony of my defeat.

  I lurched back, propelling myself a few dozen feet away with rapid steps, and ducking behind frozen stalagmites to disrupt any pursuit, if only for a moment. I heard it scuttle after me; pointed legs stabbing into the ground with sharp cracks.

  It rounded the group of frozen pillars to find me even further away, and it opened its strange vertical mouth to let out another ear-splitting screech. Three long tendrils of flesh shot forth and waved in the air before it. Two were covered in barbs of bone, cruelly hooked and clearly designed to grip and rend. The third, slightly longer but no less thick, had suckers lining the end of the appendage.

  The reverberating sound had finally abated, clearly unable to sustain itself without constant impact. I was worried that the creature would smack its own forelegs together to create the disorientating noise once more, but it seemed an empty concern.

  I rolled my shoulders and charged in once again, a different tactic in mind. Rather than try to wear away at its defences and learn its habits before punishing them, I opted to huddle behind my shield. Its forelegs were fast, but they were articulated in such a way that I doubted they could lunge forwards with the same rapid force that they contracted with.

  I was to find out soon enough, as I barely had a moment before a blow landed on the bronze face of my shield. The noise was tremendous, like the ringing of a symbol, but I felt no magic in that crash. The creature continued to scuttle around on four legs, landing blow after blow in an attempt to break through my guard, but my shield was forged of ancient bronze, and my will was iron. It could no more penetrate my guard than a squirrel could chew down an ancient oak.

  I had been concerned that it would build those strikes into another disorientating crescendo, but I needn’t have feared. After no more than 30 breaths, the moment I had been waiting for finally came. I felt a much less powerful impact on the top of my shield, and rather than a crash, it sounded like a carcass had been dropped to the ground from a great height – a meaty smack of flesh on stone. I was reminded briefly of the first creature I had killed in this world and felt a pang of sympathy for the great stag that had been so cruelly dashed to the rocks by something far beyond it in the skies above.

  A moment later, something wrenched the rim of my shield down, and I ducked, hearing the whistle as two bone-hooked tendrils split the air where my head had just been. My spear was already lancing through the air, and I felt a brief moment of resistance as it hit the sticky tendril of muscle connecting my shield to the insect’s mouth.

  Rather than stab, I twirled my wrist, and the spear angled up and over the tendril before dipping down on the other side. I wrenched back quickly, and the sharp blade sliced diagonally through the appendage. I leapt backwards, shield still clutched tightly in my left arm to keep the tendril taught. There was a moment of sickening resistance as blade sliced through flesh, and then the tension vanished and a pained squeal pierced the air.

  I fell back and nearly squealed myself as the bloody stump of quivering flesh remained stuck to my shield, flopping dangerously close to my face from the movement. In that horrifyingly insect-like manner, it rushed towards me, four legs scrabbling against the frozen ground for purchase and remaining two tendrils waving in outrage. The ragged stump of its third mouth stalk sprayed thick ichor to the ground beneath, and my eyes tracked the smoke curling from the floor where it fell, my ears picking up the low hiss of bubbling blood.

  I backed away once more, aiming fast cuts at those waving tendrils of flesh whenever I could. Its forelegs snapped through the air in an effort to intercept those strikes, to build once more the discordant rhythm that had so wobbled me earlier in the fight, but I was wise to the tactic now and avoided it by pulling my jabbing cuts back before impact. It was a tiring way to fight, but I had endurance in spades and was determined to end this fight without further injury.

  I fed a small stream of mana into Tilt, aiming to flip the table and disorient the insect in turn, but it had little effect that I could see. Perhaps it was the low centre of gravity and many legs that gave it too stable a base, or perhaps it was inured to the feeling due to its own similar skill, but either way; it thundered towards me without a hint of concern, and I was left to dive aside from a sweeping strike from its mouth-tendrils once more.

  I came to my feet from the roll with my spear discarded but my hatchet in hand, and I swung a heavy blow at the creature’s face from underneath. It was a perfect uppercut, my whole body in the swing and built from the ground up; feet set, hips pivoting, waist twisted and shoulders following through.

  Even so, the metal head of my hatchet thudded into the carapace beneath that gaping maw and did little more than slightly crack the shiny outer surface. Instead of another pained squeal and the crunching sound I’d been expecting, I found my breath whooshing from my lungs as I was sent blasting across the cavern.

  A block of ice, large as a cannonball, had been flung my way with enough momentum to send me careening through the air, sliding several more meters across the floor after I landed. Sharp rocks sliced at me, gouging furrows in the padded gambeson I wore beneath the heavy scale vest, and lines of fire across my skin below it. I managed to arrest the momentum of my slide on the slick floor by slamming my hatchet down and bracing on it like an ice-axe. It bit several inches deep into the ice below me, and I let out pained cough as I came to a stop.

  That vest was all that kept my ribs from cracking beneath the force of the projectile, but even so, it took a frighteningly long few moments to draw the first wheezing breath into my injured lungs. By the time I had regained my senses, the insect was already barrelling towards me, legs clacking against the ground and a piercing scream emitting from its damaged jaw.

  I rolled to the side, avoiding an avalanche of bone hooks and muscle that slammed into the floor where I’d been. Rather than continue to roll away, I reversed direction and grabbed the meaty tendril, then rolled towards it. I reached for the fang dagger I kept in my belt, slipping it free and slicing deep into the proto tongue beneath me.

  This creature was powerful, but was still no match for whatever ancient behemoth had left its skull back in the valley where I had found this fang. The sharp, micro-serrated edge of the tooth bit deep, slicing cleanly through the thick muscle. Another piercing shriek rattled not just the loose shards of ice on the floor around us, but my head as well, reverberating in that strange magically-enforced way.

  I didn’t try to make it to my feet, knowing my balance was likely already compromised by the creature’s skill, and instead rolled to the side over and over, hearing sharp cracks as clawed legs stabbed into the ice all around my moving form.

  Somehow, I avoided turning into a pincushion and got to my feet, shaking off the impact. Adrenaline smoothed over any pain I might be feeling from such a series of events under normal conditions. We’d both been bloodied now and my pathbound skill roared its approval from within my soul at the feat.

  My hatchet was embedded in the ice by my feet, my fang dagger in hand and shield still strapped to my left arm. My spear was lying on the floor several meters behind the creature, and I cast about for other weapons I could use. The dagger was frighteningly effective at parting flesh but would do little to punch through the iron-hard carapace, and I couldn’t rely on staying in as close as I’d need to use the small dagger without injury.

  My eyes skittered around the room, cataloguing terrain and searching frantically for anything I could use to my advantage, before I eventually looked up and found what I was searching for. I had been hesitant to use my Faultline skill on the floor to disrupt its footing, but I had no such compunctions about using it on the stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

  I would need to be careful, but looming precariously above my discarded spear in the centre of the cavern was a massive icicle, point sharp and at least several meters long and couple of feet thick at its base.

  Knowing I would need to get the timing right, I backed away. The creature lumbered towards me, and I hit it with Tilt for the second time, though I fed far more mana into the skill this time. My perspective didn't warp, but I got the sense the creature’s did. It hesitated a moment, wiggling in place before it seemed to shake itself free of whatever strange sensation my skill manifested as.

  I used the spare time wisely, skirting around so that I was between it and my spear. I heard its four legs clack! on the floor, one after the other in a staccato rhythm as it spun itself to keep its front legs between me and its presumably softer abdomen.

  I reached out with my stone sense at that moment, impossibly glad that ice still counted for however the system decided these rules. I hit it with Tilt again, and then I dashed backwards, turning my back to the creature and sprinting several steps before diving to the floor.

  I skidded on my ass, scooping up the spear with one hand as I slid past, before planting a hand to the floor slipping by below and flipping onto my front. I caught my foot on a rock and span myself around, sliding on my back for another meter, spear whipping round to point at the creature that I heard thundering behind me.

  I flooded mana down the Faultline skill, even as the creature dove on top of me, the one intact tendril slapping against my shield. I felt the heavy impact as my spear hit its exoskeleton and bounced to one side, finding purchase again a moment later. I suffered the horrible feeling of it puncturing through one of the leg joints, spearing into the insides of the creature, and it let out a horrifying squeal once more.

  So close to my face, the sound was impossibly loud, and I thought for sure my eardrums had ruptured, though I felt no blood trickling from them. I twisted the spear, frantically trying to buy myself just the few more heartbeats I needed. And then a loud crack split the air, and I knew my skill had done its work.

  The massive spear of ice descended from the ceiling, slamming inevitably into and then through the swollen abdomen of the creature. It was a long fall, 20 meters or so, and the icicle, rather than penetrating deep into the icy floor, smashed as it hit the ground beneath the creature. It served only to drive small shards of ice deeper in and it thrashed above me as its insides were shredded.

  I held firmly onto my shield, turtling up beneath it and tucking my legs and head behind its bronze embrace. I did my best to stay out of the path of dripping ichor and stabbing legs as the insect wallowed in its death throes, but eventually it subsided and slumped to the ground.

  I grunted, shifting the heavy mass to one side and sliding away before regaining my feet. I inhaled raggedly, desperate to fill my lungs with further breath. My hair was damp and stuck to my forehead, and my arms ached with a dull pain from the cuts I’d received skidding along the floor. No further creatures ambushed me though, and after my breathing had returned to normal and I’d confirmed the lack of serious injuries, I retrieved my weapons and acknowledged the soft ringing in my ears.

  You have killed a Hoarfrost Bonesinger (level 71). Experience gained.

  Skill ‘Faultline’ has increased in level. Faultline – level 10

  Skill ‘Tilt’ has increased in level. Tilt – level 2

  You have reached level 42. Attribute points available for allocation.

  You have reached level 43. Attribute points available for allocation.