Re: Elf Prince—A Degenerate’s Second Chance

29. Battle On The Ice Mountain

Honestly speaking this was a bad idea, and since when had he ever had a good idea. His crystal blue eyes shines with a bright radiance as if reacting to his own emotion.

There Eryndor was standing paralyzed by fear, a few feet was something that was without a doubt a hostile. No doubt a beast. From the growl memories came flooding back, memories of the pack of mountain wolves with their snow white fire and quick speed, those things had almost killed him the day he arrived on the mountain. The only difference between that day and then was that his guardian was no where to be seen.

Eryndor tried to get out of his head, he balled his hands into a fists and focused. "There's no one here but you. You are the captain of your life, not dumb Celyndor, not Dad, not mom, not Elantha, not Thalvarin, it's you and you alone." He told himself in his mind and just like waving a wand his mind was free of any confusions.

Unfortunately for him in his moment of self growth the beast that had been lurking in the grass was now sprinting at him. He barely had any time to react. "Shit!" He cursed as he panicked and jumped to the side narrowly missing the power fangs of the mountain wolf.

He could hardly notice it due to its fur colour that allowed to camouflage perfectly in snow. The only thing that betrayed the beast was the shine that it emitted from it's eyes.

Eryndor turned around and noticed something. It was quiet, the beast was gone without a trace. There was not a sound except for the howling wind. Despite the freezing air, hot sweat managed to trickle down his nape. He had never been in a real fight before, his experience in video games was different from the real world. There was no cheat of respawn, just one life that could be lost at any moment.

As if to elucidate his thoughts Eryndor felt a sharp pain burning though his thigh. His lungs let out a loud shriek as he fell to his knees and clutched to his thigh. He felt a warm sticky liquid seeping out of the huge gash on his thigh, the icy chill of the mountain managed to find it's way to the wound causing him to double over in another fit of pain.

In his moment of pain and confusion blood rushed into his head, too much for him to focus on anything.

The loud growl of the wolf was enought to make him turn and run in the opposite direction, his senses were screaming. He had never bled before so this new sensation was frightening, mentally Eryndor was not prepared for a battle where his life wouod hang on the balance.

He was not sure if the wolf was following since the only sound he could hear was his on wails and the howling wind. Either he was panting too loud or the wolf was really good at moving through the snow.

Just then he heard the familiar voice of his master buzzing from the depths of his left eye:

["What are you doing? How dare a disciple of mine run from a fight?"]

Eryndor swung his arms faster and came into the range of a huge oak tree, he turned and ame to a stop, resting his back against it he turned back to scan his environment. But it was dead silent.

The right eye spoke again:

["Don't tell me you're mad about leaving you for so long. It was for your own good."]

Eryndor ignored his master and took off his mittens, fighting with them on would be a problem. His hands started to freeze the instant they were exposed to the unforgiving cold. He gripped the kitchen knife and stood his ground there.

["Why don't you use the eye?"]

This time Eryndor did respond but in a low angry tone. "I want to do this with my own power."

The eye screamed at him:

["You foolish disciple, the power of the golden eye is yours. I already passed it on to you and it's starting to piss me off when you don't use it!"]

Eryndor's eyes widened for a moment, he had been proudly trying to do this by his power. He had even forgotten the power of his left eye, and eye that could see heat signatures would be perfect for finishing beast hidden in the snow.

Eryndor hurried focused all of his willpower into his left eye and shutting his right eye. There was only a second delay before everything filtered out and turned blue, he could see the form of a four legged beast approaching him slowly from his blind spot.

The only advantage that Eryndor had gained was that he could see the beast before it appeared, but the problem still remained. Could he kill it.

Eryndor positioned himself in one of the forms Thalvarin was prone to using. "Don't think, just do." He said to himself, he was betting on finishing this in as less moves as it would take. The longer he prolonged the battle the higher the chances of him dying.

A moment later the wolf lunged forward from his right, had it been before he would have gotten hurt or dead but he already knew what to do. Instead of dodging sideways Eryndor lunged forward like a mad man and thrust his trust knife into the eye of the mountain wolf and a moment later they collided and came tumbling to the ground.

Eryndor grunted as he fell to the ground hissing out in pain, he had suffered a terrible gash on his cheek. He was at least in a better shape than the beast in the sense that he still had both his eyes intact. The only thing that have him solace was the wolf's pained howls, it had not yet gotten up from the ground. Eryndor deduced that it did not expect to be bested so easily.

Eryndor warned himself not to relax yet, he hurried to the beast as it began climbing to its feet. Eryndor could tell that in any moment it would go mad with fury and attack him or worse it would get away. Feeling all the blood rushed through his body Eryndor leapt into the air and landed on the back of the beast alarming it.

The mountain wolf howled and trashed at him but he held on tight to its fur like his life depended on it and it did. "Why don't you just die you damn dog!!" He screamed at the top of his voice as he managed to reach the knife, he pulled it out causing the wolf to hop around madly.

Eryndor wondered how much damage an actual knife would have been or perhaps a dagger. He thrust the knife again but missed multiple times, apparently he did not have the coordination to lodge the knife in the eye of the wolf in one go. It did not help that the beast would not stop trashing around.

The wolf started to sprint into a path that Eryndor had no knowledge of, he raised his head and peered into the distance. There was nothing but... His jaw dropped at the sight before him. At the distance was not one but seven heat signatures.

The wolf was heading back to its pack, even if he managed to kill it the had heard of it's pained howls. It was then he realised it, his prey was not a lone wolf but rather a scout.

"Shit!" Eryndor cursed at his poor luck.