Shroud's eyes fluttered open, his vision obscured by a blinding white void. The cold hit him first—a searing, numbing force that clawed at his skin, as if the frozen air itself sought to consume him. He shivered violently, his breath emerging in short, panicked clouds. Snow clung to his hair and clothes, its icy fingers creeping into every exposed crevice.
He tried to sit up, but his body screamed in protest. His muscles were stiff, his joints aching as though he hadn't moved in days. A faint memory surfaced—of being somewhere warm, safe. Then, nothing.
"What… where am I?" Shroud croaked, his voice hoarse and cracked.
The barren wasteland stretched endlessly around him. The sky was a sheet of pale gray, devoid of sun or stars. The howling wind carried a bitter chill, and the snow beneath him glistened with an unnatural sheen.
Then he saw it—a mark carved into the snow, glowing faintly. It was the symbol of his Pathway. The Wraithwalker. He remembered now. The trial. This was no ordinary tundra. It was his proving ground, a test of survival and strength.
He was in Antarctica.
Panic set in as he realized just how unprepared he was. No food, no water, no weapons. The only thing he had was his Pathway—and even that was a gamble.
He staggered to his feet, his knees wobbling as he surveyed his surroundings. The cold gnawed at him, threatening to sap his strength before he could even take a step. But then a sound broke through the wind—a low, guttural growl.
Shroud spun around, his heart pounding. Emerging from the swirling snow was a creature unlike anything he'd ever seen. Its body was covered in jagged, frostbitten fur, and its glowing blue eyes burned with predatory intent. An ice wolf, its massive jaws snapping as it stalked closer.
His instincts screamed at him to run, but where? There was nowhere to hide. The beast charged, snow kicking up in its wake.
"Come on, come on!" Shroud shouted, reaching deep within himself. He focused on the spectral energy of his Pathway, willing his weapon to appear. His mind raced. Soulbound Arsenal. He had to summon the sword.
Pain lanced through his head as he reached into the void, his inexperience with the ability making the process sluggish. The wolf was upon him before the weapon fully materialized. Shroud barely dodged the first swipe, the creature's claws tearing through his coat.
He fell hard onto the snow, his breath knocked from his lungs. The cold bit at his exposed skin as the wolf lunged again. This time, Shroud managed to roll away, his fingers grasping at the half-formed hilt of his sword.
"Work, damn it!" he snarled.
The double-edged blade finally took shape, glowing faintly with an ethereal blue light. The wolf hesitated for a moment, sensing the spectral energy radiating from the weapon. Shroud didn't wait. He swung wildly, the blade cutting through the air with a haunting hum.
The wolf leapt back, circling him. Shroud's grip trembled as exhaustion set in. The sword was heavier than he anticipated, its presence draining his energy with every second.
The wolf struck again, and this time, Shroud was ready. He sidestepped and brought the blade down with all his might. The weapon connected, slicing through the creature's shoulder. A spray of icy mist erupted from the wound as the wolf howled in pain.
But it wasn't enough. The beast retaliated, its claws raking across Shroud's chest. He screamed as blood seeped into the snow, the cold amplifying the pain. Desperation surged through him.
He lashed out with the sword, catching the wolf across its throat. The beast let out a gurgled snarl before collapsing into the snow, its glowing eyes fading.
Shroud dropped to his knees, his chest heaving. The sword dissolved from his grip, the strain of maintaining it too much for his battered body. Blood dripped from his wounds, staining the pristine snow.
The wolf's lifeless body lay before him, its fur coated in frost and its blood freezing almost instantly. Shroud stared at it, his stomach twisting. This wasn't victory. It was survival.
He crawled toward the corpse, his hands shaking as he stripped the hide for warmth. The process was messy and crude, but he didn't care. He needed to live.
As he wrapped the wolf's pelt around himself, the reality of his situation sank in. This was only the beginning. If he couldn't even handle one creature, how would he survive the days—or weeks—this trial demanded?
Shroud's gaze turned to the horizon, where the wind howled and the snow swirled endlessly. The frozen wasteland offered no comfort, no reprieve.
He clenched his fists, his breath steadying. "I'll survive," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the storm. "No matter what it takes."
And with that, Shroud stumbled forward, disappearing into the blizzard, his resolve as cold and unyielding as the tundra itself.
End of Chapter
The Reader: this is just a cheap copy of shadow slave by guiltythree!! (amazing author btw)
Author: um... Yeah sorry hehe. :) I'm a big fan of shadow slave so... Yeah...