CHAPTER 37: I’M PAIRED WITH A DAMN MORON!

Everything was happening fast.

Faster than I could follow. But the immediate danger? That registered even faster. The hairs on my neck stood on end, a cold wave of warning slapping across my skin like ice water.

Perhaps this was what Tristan meant when he said I had a semblance of practical experience. Because in that moment, it was a familiar feeling—one that had accumulated after every unaccounted opening Tristan had taken to attack me during training.

But this was entirely worse.

It was as though every nerve in my body was screaming in unison. ’Death approaching. Death approaching.’

I didn’t even see it clearly—just a massive shadow falling. I exploded out of the way, muscles burning as I leaped back. The Blizzard Mauler crashed into the ground exactly where I’d been standing, scattering snow in all directions like a detonation. Through the vague fog of white, my mind immediately accelerated into combat mode.

’Focus. Assess. Act.’

I locked onto the beast and channeled spirit essence, shouting:

"Freeze!"

The creature was already winding up to spring but stopped mid-stride, its massive body coiled to lunge at Kael. He’d moved too—but late, far too late to cover enough distance. I caught sight of him in my peripheral vision as he seemed to disengage Ironhold to defend himself. The summon was running towards him now.

’That’s going to be a problem.’

I was closer to the beast. No choice, then.

I shot forward with every ounce of muscle power in my legs, scaling across the snow in explosive strides. I leaped, catching a quick glance of the monster’s mangled, bloodied face as I rose. Kassie had indeed done it a number—flesh torn, one eye socket already ruined.

In a swift arc of motion, I brought my dagger down on its remaining good eye as I came down, using the blade as an anchor to hang myself from its skull. I glanced down, realizing I was quite far from the ground—the creature was massive, easily twice the height of a normal bear.

But I paid no attention to the drop. My second hand was already moving.

I twisted my grip, holding the other dagger in reverse, and buried it blade-deep into the thick muscle of the beast’s neck. Blood sprayed out like a burst pipeline, hot against the freezing air. Steam rose from the deep blue spray.

The creature had started to raise its massive paw to grab me, but the motion stopped halfway—as if my dagger had struck a critical nerve cluster.

’Lucky.’

It was a good thing I’d moved fast, because I hadn’t expected Warlord’s Command to wear off so quickly. The skill had a short duration, apparently. Or was it depending on the level of target I used it on?

Ironhold, wielding his massive hammer with both hands, struck the monster at the back of its leg with a sound like thunder on steel. The joint buckled. The creature fell to one knee, the impact shaking the ground beneath us.

With the sudden fall, I jerked my blade free from its ruined eye socket—wet resistance, then release—and stabbed again into its throat. Blood sprang out like a waterfall, pressurized and pulsing. The creature’s frantic struggles stopped. It spasmed once, twice, then collapsed forward into the snow.

[You have killed a Tier 4 Spirit Beast: Blizzard Mauler]

I breathed heavily, chest heaving.

But there was no time to rest. None at all.

Because the complication of Kael disengaging his summon to save his own ass was already catching up with us. Kassie, Elena’s summon Tempest, Cardith, and Silvaris were locked in combat with the majority of the spirit beasts at the center of the battlefield. Elena herself was providing support—dealing chip damage and acting as bait to distract the enormous snow apes while the heavy hitters dealt the real damage.

Smart tactics. Textbook, really.

But now we had a problem.

The apes were tough—tougher than they looked, actually. My arms ached from the movement and effort of driving my weapon into reinforced flesh and bone. Everything screamed in protest.

’Push through it.’

And the Blizzard Mauler that Ironhold had disengaged from? It had taken the opening. Of course it had.

All of it happened so fast. I’d barely stood up, snow falling from my coat, when the ape-beast—looking like a polar bear on steroids, all corded muscle and white fur matted with frost—was already upon Ironhold and me.

Ironhold met its brutal overhead strike with his hammer, weapon rising to intercept.

The collision sent shockwaves through the ground, snow flying. The summon staggered back, metal boots digging trenches in the snow. I had just enough time to roll to the side and find my footing. The beast clustered both its massive arms together, raising them high over its head like a sledgehammer, and slammed down with terrifying force.

Ironhold moved again—faster than something that size should move—and slammed his hammer right into the descending blow from below. The impact created a shockwave that blasted snow in all directions, a white explosion that obscured everything for a heartbeat.

"Siege Breaker’s Wrath!"

I frowned as I heard Kael’s voice ring out across the battlefield.

’Is this boy stupid?’

Using his summon’s signature skill this early into the battle? We had at least three more of these things to kill, and spirit essence didn’t regenerate fast at low ranks.

’What a moron!’

Ironhold’s dark steel armor shimmered with malevolent red light, power surging through the construct. His hammer seemed to grow larger, edges glowing with compressed energy. He lunged forward, building momentum for a devastating collision with the ape beast.

However, the beast didn’t meet the charge.

Instead, it raised its clustered hands again and slammed them onto the ground with calculated precision. The impact created a shockwave of pure frost—ice spreading like cracking glass from the point of impact, flash-freezing everything in a fifteen-meter radius solid for what had to be at least ten seconds.

The expanding ice caught Ironhold by his legs mid-charge, locking him in place. The shockwave itself—a wall of concussive force and freezing air—pushed Kael’s feeble body and mine away from the frozen zone. We both went airborne for a sickening moment before landing hard in the snow several meters back.

’Damn it.’

Meanwhile, the Blizzard Mauler brought both its hands down on Ironhold’s trapped head with a terrible sound—like a massive boulder crushing sheet metal. The summon’s helmet crumpled inward.

Then there was another sound. Another long, muscled arm swung a blow directly into the creature’s chest, striking with enough force to crack ribs. But with Kael over there, disoriented and struggling in the snow, Ironhold just stood frozen in place like a statue—no commands, no reactions, no defensive adjustments.

’Damnit, his fortitude must be really low.’

I’d never had to deal with this particular problem myself, but I understood the mechanics. The disadvantage of low fortitude that I could never personally relate to was simple and brutal: the summon depended almost entirely on the summoner’s mental commands for complex actions. If the summoner was disoriented—dazed, stunned, knocked prone—the summon would be equally compromised.

’The low-rank curse runs deeper than they show us in orientation.’

A low-tier summon. Low fortitude. A low-rank summoner.

It was the worst possible combination. The bottom of the barrel. This one now even had a low sense!

With another terrifying, bone-deep sound of impact—metal shearing, essence fracturing—Ironhold vanished into a spray of black sparks that dissipated on the wind.

Already pushing myself up from the snow, my eyes widened. I turned sharply toward Kael, who was also struggling to his feet, face pale with shock and spirit essence depletion.

I shot him a glare that could’ve frozen water.

’This is because you went and used a signature skill so early, you damn moron.’