Re: Elf Prince—A Degenerate's Second Chance-Chapter 45. Ice Serpent
45. Ice Serpent 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞
A world painted in endless white stretched out before Eryndor, its cold embrace biting into his skin and sapping the warmth from his body. The snowy mountain terrain was both a testament to nature’s beauty and its indifference. Life here was fragile— only the strong or cunning survived. The weak were claimed swiftly by the unrelenting frost or prowling predators.
Eryndor’s movements were calculated as he darted through the terrain, his figure a blur weaving between frost-covered trees. His breath crystallized in the air, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared. Each step was muffled by the snow beneath his boots, but he remained wary. Every sound, every crunch, could alert something— someone— to his presence.
"Conserve your mana. Don’t let your guard down."
The mantra echoed in his mind. His strategy was one of patience, not speed. Whenever he reached a clearing or an exposed slope, he crouched low, scanning his surroundings. He didn’t dare advance until he was absolutely sure no threat lurked nearby. It slowed his progress, but the reassurance it gave was worth the extra time.
Eryndor’s fingers brushed against the hilt of his blade, an instinctive gesture of comfort. His most reliable companion, however, wasn’t steel— it was the faint glow of his left eye, imbued with an ancient presence. A relic of a long-forgotten past, the eye contained a fragment of his master’s consciousness, though it seldom spoke to him he could always feel it there.
"Hey, Master, you there?" Eryndor muttered as he crouched behind a snow-laden boulder, his voice soft yet carried the weight of isolation. He waited for a response, but all he felt was the faint pulse of warmth from the eye— a quiet affirmation of its presence.
Disheartened but determined, Eryndor activated the left eye, closing his natural one to allow the relic’s magic to take over. A kaleidoscope of colors overlayed his vision as the world revealed itself in ethereal hues. The eye could detect the subtle shifts of life and mana in the surrounding environment. He scanned the forested expanse ahead, pausing for long moments to ensure no creature lay in wait. Satisfied with the eerie stillness, he exhaled and pressed onward.
The journey was grueling. The air grew colder with each step, and even with his flame-tempering art heating his body, the frost seeped into his extremities. Survival here demanded more than just warmth— it required vigilance. Supplies were scarce; the snow hid potential dangers like brittle ice patches and concealed predators. Even the simple act of walking became a battle, his legs burning from wading through knee-deep drifts.
From time to time, he stopped to rest, leaning against frost-rimed trees. During these moments, Eryndor found himself reflecting on his quest. Was it worth this? He shook his head, dispelling doubt. His old habits still persisted from time to time. Solitude gnawed at him, but he couldn’t afford distraction.
Suddenly, the ground trembled.
The first vibration was faint— enough to make him pause but not panic. Then came another, stronger this time, sending a cascade of snow tumbling from the nearby trees. Before he could react, the ground beneath him erupted, snow and ice flying skyward in a chaotic explosion. A blast of frigid wind knocked him off his feet, and he was airborne before he realized what had happened.
Eryndor twisted midair, bracing for impact. The snow cushioned his fall, but the landing still jarred him. His shoulder ached, and his lungs burned as he scrambled to his feet. Whatever had caused the explosion wasn’t natural. He turned, his left eye igniting instinctively to survey the area.
The answer came swiftly.
A massive, serpentine beast coiled before him, its form shimmering like polished ice. Its body was translucent, the light refracting through its scales in dazzling patterns. Two glowing blue eyes stared him down, unblinking and predatory. The creature was as beautiful as it was terrifying— a guardian of the mountain path, perhaps, or a wandering predator drawn by his presence.
Eryndor’s grip tightened on his blade. He didn’t need his anyone to tell him this fight couldn’t be avoided.
The beast lunged, its movements deceptively fast for its size. Eryndor kicked into action and barely managed to roll out of the way in time before the creature’s icy fangs snapped shut inches from his shoulder. The ground where it struck froze instantly, a thin layer of ice spreading outward like a spiderweb beneath him.
Eryndor sprang to his feet, heart pounding. "Alright, you want to play? Let’s play."
The flame-tempering art surged through his body, his breath coming out in visible bursts of steam. The heat radiating from his core pushed back the cold, and his blade glowed faintly as he channeled mana into it.
The beast attacked again, its tail whipping through the air like a crystalline scythe. Eryndor ducked, the blade of ice slicing through a nearby tree with terrifying ease. He retaliated with a quick slash, the edge of his sword igniting in flame as it struck the beast’s scales. The fire hissed on contact, steam billowing up, but the creature barely flinched at his attack.
"Great," Eryndor muttered, dodging another strike. "It’s tougher than it looks." He hated for the battle to stretch longer than it should have but did he really have a choice?
The battle became a dance of survival. Eryndor relied on his agility, darting around the creature and striking whenever he saw an opening. The beast countered with relentless precision honed by its multiple years experience hunting, each attack forced Eryndor to adapt. If he had not had experience sparring with his uncle he would have found it very hard to switch gears but he could do it almost instinctively.
That did not mean he had an advantage over the ice serpent, that only meant he could keep his body parts intact with very minimum risk.
When the beast reared back, preparing a devastating lunge, Eryndor saw his chance. He channeled more mana into his blade, the flame roaring to life with an intensity that made the surrounding snow melt. As the beast lunged, he sidestepped, slashing upward with all his strength.
The blade struck true, carving a deep gash along the creature’s side. It let out an ear-piercing shriek, a sound that reverberated through the mountains like the wail of a banshee. Blue liquid— its lifeblood— splattered across the snow, steaming where it landed. It was a marvel how a creature so cold could have blood hot enough to melt snow. Eryndor pushed away any distracting thought, the beast was making its move again.
The beast recoiled, its movements slower now, but its eyes burned with fury. It wasn’t done yet.
Eryndor dropped to one knee, panting. Maintaining the flame-tempering art and fighting simultaneously for so long had drained him, and his limbs felt heavy. He needed to end this quickly else his disadvantage would only grow.
The beast lunged again, but this time Eryndor was ready. He feigned weakness, waiting until the last possible moment before rolling beneath its attack. With a burst of adrenaline, he plunged his blade into the creature’s underbelly, the flames erupting outward in a fiery explosion.
The beast let out one final, agonized roar before collapsing. Its body shimmered as it disintegrated into shards of ice, leaving behind a small black core— the heart of the creature. He had expected it’s underbelly to be it’s softest region but actually striking it was nothing short of luck.
As he collapsed on exhaustion the voice that greeted him was the legacy.
[You have slain a normal beast "Ice Serpent"
You have recieved a soul essence]
