Dungeon of Niflheim

214 Chapter 214: Fighting yetis (3)

“Rahhhhhhhh!” The twin yetis roared as they stabilised themselves and re-entered the fight with gusto. They couldn’t and wouldn’t let up, growing angrier and angrier as the battle went on like any other beast. Only when they were truly at death’s door would they waver.

While the twins fought against Frost with wild abandon, the eldest yeti reached the side of its youngest brother and quickly examined his wounds. It looked a lot worse than it actually was, the wounds on the face though gruesome were not life threatening, just very painful. The eldest yeti’s face visibly softened as he gripped the body of his youngest brother, thankful that his life wasn’t in jeopardy. The next second, he gave his youngest brother a rap across the skull to stop its quivering before grunting in yeti. Basically, translating as ‘suck it up little bro and get back in the fight.’ He then aided his brother to his feet and pointed him in the direction of Frost and the twins.

“Grrahhhhhh,” the youngest brother gritted his teeth and roared towards Frost in anger, he was the source of his current pain. Liking the look in his younger brother’s eyes the eldest yeti, thumped his brother’s chest since his was injured before the two of them quickly re-joined the fight from Frost’s blind spot.

Frost now had to once again compete with four yetis at once and he welcomed it, with a sashay of his glaive he cut and bashed their fists away engaging in a relenting back and forth assault.

It took him twenty minutes to defeat the four yetis with the youngest being the last to succumb thanks to its three elder brothers valiant efforts.

Don!

The youngest yeti had fallen to its knees, its white fur almost entirely painted red from blood. Its three siblings lay across the snow, silent and motionless, they died under Frost’s mighty glaive. Their bodies weren’t even in one piece, splattered all over, dying the snow blood red. Its strength failed it, the youngest yeti stared at the dead bodies of its siblings, its eyes losing their glow. It didn’t even have the energy run anymore but even if it did it wouldn’t leave its family.

Its eyes then looked up towards the elf that they originally deemed as a snack, a helpless prey, oh how wrong they were. Its eyes didn’t even show any hatred, just defeat, wishing for a swift death in order to join its brothers.

Frost looked down at this yeti covered in blood, his own robes were dyed red too, with a little being from him. His ice chakra armour was barely holding together and had been reformed countless times. His glaive that smited three yetis already was raised above his head in preparation for a swift decapitation but he stalled after seeing the look on the yeti’s face and felt gobsmacked.

.....

‘Why do I feel like such a villain right now?’ He didn’t expect such a range of emotions from a wild yeti, but the awkwardness lasted only a few moments before.

Shwing! Frost’s glaive howled downward and cleaved through the yeti’s neck with great speed and accuracy. The yeti’s eyes swiftly closed as its head slid from its shoulders and fell to the ground, releasing a large dose of DP. This was survival of the fittest, kill or be killed that was the way in the wild. He was an adventurer on a training excursion and these yetis were merely his training dummies, but their deaths were not in vain.

“Haaaaaaaaaa” Frost let out a delightful moan as the yeti’s DP filled his body, from the four dead yetis he gained around 1200DP, and it felt glorious. The wounds he gained from the battle and his expended stamina and mana was swiftly treated. Even if the monsters produced little to no useful physical materials the DP alone made them worth it in Frost’s eyes.

Plus, his gains in terms of glaive mastery was another bonus, his stagnation at the early to mid-stages of adept mastery was over. Towards the end of the battle, he succeeded in jumping a small realm, allowing him to bring an end to the balance. It was after this point that he slayed the first yeti, the other three fell shortly after.

“Day one and I’ve already made over 2000DP and made great stride in my glaive arts, plus my ice chakra armour worked far better than expected.” Frost deactivated his armour, thankful for how robust it was against the punches of the yetis.

Crack Crack “[Clean up]” he cracked his neck and shoulders before casting clean up magic and activated the repair features on his robes. There were a few tears where the yeti’s claws or fangs reached. A moment later nearly all signs of the battle vanished from his body, only the four corpses at his feet remained.

“Well time for some looting I guess.” He summoned an ice chakra blade and started digging into the four corpses without a care in the world, he was already used to such practises and felt nothing untoward to the process.

With precision he removed four D-rank magic crystals and stored them within his spatial ring. With their rank they could sell for a tidy sum or be used to power magic devices or arrays. Monsters could also consume them to grow in strength, however Frost didn’t know how that would work on monsters summoned by the dungeon. Perhaps something to try out once he returned as he’d likely have a plethora of spare magic crystals to test with.

The rest of the body had little value, so he casted ignition on the corpses setting them alight as per protocol before venturing deeper into the valley and the den of the yetis. This was only the outskirts, more yetis surely awaited his blade further in.

He once again rested his glaive on his shoulders as he marched through the steep cliffs, awaiting more challengers. If he was lucky he may even jump another small realm with his glaive. Reaching advanced mastery would take some time, likely not to happen on this trip or at the very end at least.

Adept and advanced was a dividing line like C and B-rank. Most people lacked the ability to reach such a level regardless of the amount of effort and time they put in.

6 hours later, the sky had long grown dark, the stars appeared incredibly magical from the frozen expanse. The blizzard had died down, yet the temperature dropped by nearly ten degrees. The adventurer camp of the Beta sector was raucous with the laughter and revelry of many adventurers and merchants as they sat amongst the many fire pits. The camp had constant patrols around the area and was built within a large, sheltered rock formation that proved to be very defendable.

The fires and lights could be seen from over kilometre away, as well as some sort of red fog that floated around the perimeter. Fires and bright lights tended to both attract monsters as well as deter them, with the ones being attracted being the more dangerous. So why would the camp proudly portray their fires and lights for the world to see?

Given the amount of adventurers present they would in fact welcome a large group of monsters to attack the camp, resulting in easy money but that wouldn’t be great for the purpose of such a camp. Safety was a main concern. Large groups of adventurers would give off a natural aura that would help stave off some monsters but for those that chose to ignore that either due to their personal strength, large amounts of comrades or simply because they were starving. The red fog would deter them. It was an alchemic concoction that used the blood of high level monsters and crushed up magic crystals as well as a few other tid bits. Monsters when they smell the fog would be intimidated thinking that it was the lair of a powerful group of monsters, choosing to steer clear.

Tonight, two young guards were on duty for the night and were lazing on the job. Nothing really happened thanks to the fog and the combined aura created by the large amount of adventurers staying here. Even if some monsters did attack, they’d be useless given their strength. Their sole job was to alert the true guards resting in the nearby barracks or any one of the many adventurers. Since this was a reasonably easy job it was given to the younger generation with good eyesight.

Tonight, it was Carlo and Tarok’s turn. Two wolf beastmen that grew up in a small enclave within the external regions of the Glacial mountains. It was common for young men and women from such enclaves to either work in such camps or migrate to Northrend. Once they reached a certain level of strength and or money they usually returned to the mountains, unable to endure the peaceful life of the civilised countries.

“Yaaaaaaawnnnnnn how much longer till the end of our shift?” Tarok asked his companion Carlo as he stretched and yawned.

“Dude we’re not even half way, get it together.” Carlo admonished his companion, he was far more dutiful that Tarok, not taking his job for granted.

“Really, god! I’m so bored and tired...that’s it no more drinking for the rest of the week.” Tarok continued to complain about his situation. he’d been drinking before his shift, and it made him even more drowsy.

“You’re only saying that because you’ve got no money left for alcohol.” Carlo retorted bluntly, seeing right through his friend causing him to stutter and give a slightly infuriated look before the two of them laughed.

A minute later a tall figure walked towards the camp, a large pole weapon could be seen resting on its shoulders.

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