Chapter 104: Murder Is A Habit [II]
Klaus crushed the wolf’s skull directly into the frozen earth, feeling the bone cave in under his heel.
He didn’t fight with the efficient precision he usually employed.
He fought like a butcher, abandoning all defense and relying entirely on his newly acquired regeneration.
He let the monsters scratch him, he let them tear his coat, and he laughed as he slaughtered them in return.
While Klaus was busy dismantling the vanguard, one of the wolves scavenging near the carriage noticed the commotion.
It abandoned its meal with its glowing blue eyes locking onto the shivering goat-eared woman standing behind the madman.
The beast lowered its head and sprinted through the snow, flanking Klaus entirely and aiming straight for Mirela.
Mirela saw the monster approaching and the panic surged in her chest, but she didn’t freeze. The endless hours of training in the backyard of the compound kicked in.
She wasn’t just a maid... she was a member of the party.
Mirela reached into her spatial ring and in a shimmer of blue light, the beautiful, silver-inlaid staff materialized in her hands.
The large crystal mounted at the top hummed with energy as Mirela planted her feet in the deep snow, ignoring the freezing cold biting at her toes.
She gripped the wooden shaft with both hands, aiming the crystal directly at the charging Frost Wolf.
Mirela channeled her mana, visualizing the pale silvery light of the moon.
"Stay away!" Mirela shouted.
The crystal flared with blinding intensity as a thick concentrated beam of pure silvery energy erupted from the tip of the staff.
ZZZAP!
The magical beam shot across the snowy expanse with pinpoint accuracy. It struck the charging Frost Wolf directly in the center of its chest.
The lunar energy reacted violently with the corrupted, rotting ice armor covering the beast.
The wolf let out a high-pitched agonizing screech as the beam punched clean through its torso, leaving a massive smoking hole where its heart used to be.
The smell of burnt fur and melting ice filled the air... The monster’s momentum carried it forward a few more feet before it collapsed face-first into the snow, it was dead.
Klaus finished hacking the last wolf to pieces. He kicked the carcass away as his sword dripped with dark blood.
He turned around, watching the smoke clear from Mirela’s staff.
"Nice shot, Mirela," Klaus praised, walking back toward her. "Your casting time is getting faster and the mana density was perfect."
Mirela lowered her staff, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. The adrenaline of the fight faded, and the oppressive soul-biting cold of the Winterlands immediately rushed back in to take its place.
Her teeth began to chatter violently. Her lips were turning a faint shade of blue, and her entire body shook.
The heavy winter cloak she was wearing was virtually useless against the magical frost permeating the air.
"M-Master," Mirela stuttered, wrapping her arms around herself. "It is so cold... My core feels like it is freezing."
Klaus sheathed his bloody sword. He looked at her and he saw the genuine distress in her wide eyes, the physical toll the environment was taking on her fragile demi-human body.
His dark eyes shifted.
For a brief second, the gamer persona cracked... The part of him that actually cared... the part of him that had bought her that staff, that had promised to protect her surfaced.
He didn’t say a word. He just walked over to the nearest dead Frost Wolf.
He extended his hand, hovering his palm over the ruined, bloody carcass of the beast he had stomped to death.
[Ding!]
A familiar blue screen materialized in the air in front of his face, shining brightly against the gray blizzard.
[Target Soul Harvested: Tier 2 Corrupted Frost Wolf]
[Analyzing innate biological and magical traits...]
[Notice: Soul Skill Slots are currently limited.]
[Current Capacity: 3 / 4]
[Please select ONE of the following Skills to extract:]
[Ice Fang] - Coats a held weapon in a layer of freezing mana, causing minor frostbite damage on impact.[Blizzard Howl] - Releases a sonic shockwave that momentarily disorients enemies and lowers their physical speed.[Frostblood Aura] - A passive bodily enhancement that heavily mutates the user’s mana pathways, granting extreme resistance to freezing environments, sub-zero temperatures, and cold-based magic.
Klaus read the options.
Ice Fang was a decent offensive buff, but he already had Wind Magic and Soul Mana to amplify his strikes and Blizzard Howl was a crowd-control skill, but it would drain his stamina.
Frostblood Aura was exactly what he needed to survive this death zone. It was a permanent, passive immunity to the very environment trying to kill them.
He only had a slot left, but surviving the Winterlands without dying of hypothermia took priority over hoarding space.
He mentally selected the third option.
[Skill Selected: Frostblood Aura]
[Extracting...]
The blue screen shattered into glowing particles as the lights swirled through the freezing wind and rushed directly into Klaus’s chest.
A sudden, shocking chill rushed through his veins, but it wasn’t painful.
It felt like drinking a glass of ice water on a hot day.
His internal body temperature adapted instantly.
The biting, malicious wind whipping against his face no longer felt cold; it just felt like a gentle breeze as the magical frost trying to eat his soul was completely neutralized, blocked by the new, mutate mana pathways running under his skin.
Klaus let out a long, satisfied breath, watching his breath form a cloud of mist.
He turned back to Mirela.
The goat-eared girl had dropped to her knees in the snow, too weak to stand as the cold sapped the last of her energy.
Klaus walked over to her and he didn’t hesitate.
He reached up, unclasped the heavy, fur-lined winter coat he was wearing, and pulled it off his shoulders.
He was left standing in just his dark combat shirt and trousers, completely immune to the freezing blizzard.
He draped his massive coat over Mirela’s trembling shoulders, wrapping it tightly around her small frame.
Mirela looked up at him, her blue lips parting in surprise. "Master? You will freeze..."
"I don’t get cold anymore," Klaus said simply.
He crouched down in the snow right in front of her. He reached out, taking her freezing, trembling hands in his own.
He didn’t just hold them; he consciously channeled a small stream of his Soul mana, mixing it with the latent warmth of his Beast’s Vitality and pushing it directly into her palms.
The heat transferred from his skin into hers and it was like holding her hands over a roaring hearth fire.
Mirela gasped softly as the warmth flooded her system, chasing away the freezing ache in her bones.
The color slowly returned to her cheeks as she looked at his face. His expression was calm, focused, and entirely gentle.
"Better?" Klaus asked and Mirela nodded, her heart fluttering in her chest. She gripped his warm hands tightly.
He had called the carriage driver an NPC just minutes ago. He had murdered a man in cold blood, claiming he didn’t care about human life anymore... He had laughed while letting wolves tear into his flesh.
But right now, kneeling in the snow, giving her his coat and warming her hands, he was the exact same caring, protective leader who had saved her life.
His words were cruel, but his actions betrayed him. He couldn’t completely turn off his humanity, no matter how hard he had tried to destroy it.
"Thank you, Master," Mirela whispered, a genuine, happy smile touching her lips. "I feel much warmer now."
"Good," Klaus said, standing back up and pulling her to her feet. He let go of her hands but kept close to her side to block the wind. "We can’t stay here. The blood from these wolves will attract more corrupted mobs so we need to find shelter before nightfall. Preferably borrow another Carriage..."
"Where are we going?" Mirela asked, clutching his oversized coat around her chest.
"We are going to follow the wreckage," Klaus decided, looking past the dead wolves.
He pointed down the frozen valley... the dire-horses had managed to drag the ruined carriage a long way before the crash, leaving a wide unmistakable trail of churned snow, broken wood, and spilled cargo stretching far into the distance.
They began to march.
The Haunted Winterlands was a bleak monochromatic nightmare. They trudged through knee-deep snow, navigating around massive imposing statues carved from black ice that depicted forgotten gods.
The wind constantly howled through the skeletal trees, sounding eerily like human screams.
Klaus walked in front, using his body to break the wind for Mirela.
The Frostblood Aura kept him perfectly comfortable, while his Thermal Perception allowed him to scan the blinding whiteout for any hidden heat signatures of approaching monsters.
They walked for over two hours as the gray sky began to darken as evening approached, casting long menacing shadows across the frozen landscape.
Then, cutting through the thick blizzard, Klaus saw a flickering light.
It wasn’t the neon-blue glow of a monster... It was the distinct, warm orange glow of a roaring fire...
"Look," Klaus said, pointing ahead.
Mirela squinted through the falling snow. Emerging from the whiteout was a massive, fortified structure.
It was a forward operating base, built directly into the side of a frozen mountain.
Tall palisade walls made of thick dark wood were reinforced with sheets of solid ice, creating an impenetrable barrier against the corrupted wildlife.
Large iron braziers burned brightly at the corners of the walls, casting a welcoming light into the darkness.
Hanging from the tall wooden gates, flapping violently in the wind, were massive banners depicting a silver sword crossed over a blue shield.
"A camp," Mirela breathed a sigh of relief. "We found shelter."
Klaus stared at the banners with his memory clicked, aligning with the furious words of the carriage driver he had impaled on the fence.
"That isn’t just a camp," Klaus corrected her. "That is Lord Varhem’s forward base. That is exactly where our stolen carriage was supposed to deliver its supplies."
Mirela’s relief vanished instantly, replaced by a fresh wave of panic.
"Master... if this is his camp, the guards will recognize the carriage trail. They will ask questions and we shouldn’t go near them. They are nobles."
Klaus didn’t turn around. He didn’t alter his course as he kept walking straight toward the towering wooden gates.
"I know," Klaus smiled.. "That’s the best part."
They approached the camp with the crunch of their boots loud in the quiet valley.
As they neared the massive wooden gates, two figures stepped out from the shadows of the palisade walls.
They were elite perimeter guards.
They wore heavy, fur-lined plate armor that looked expensive and impeccably maintained, adorned with the blue and silver crest of Lord Varhem’s house.
They carried long, deadly halberds and thick woolen scarves covering the lower halves of their faces to ward off the cold.
The guards lowered their weapons, crossing the halberds to block the path.
"Halt!" the guard on the right barked, his voice muffled by his scarf. "This is the forward operating base of Lord Varhem, authorized only for military personnel and high-born guests. State your business, outlander."
Klaus stopped a few feet away from the crossed weapons. He kept his hands relaxed at his sides.
"We got lost in the blizzard," Klaus lied smoothly. "My maid and I are just looking for a warm hearth for the night. We saw your fires from the valley."
The guard on the left narrowed his eyes, studying Klaus’s cheap combat trousers and the lack of a visible crest.
He looked past them, his gaze tracking the deep, churned trail of snow leading back into the valley as he spotted a piece of splintered, steel-reinforced wood resting far away.
The guard stiffened with his grip tightening on his weapon.
"Wait a minute," the guard said, his tone shifting from dismissive to highly suspicious. "That trail... that matches the track width of a heavy transport carriage. We are expecting a crucial supply drop from the outpost today."
The guard took a step forward, leveling the tip of his halberd directly at Klaus’s chest.
"Where is the supply carriage?" the guard demanded aggressively. "And where is the driver supposed to be steering it? Did you scavengers hijack our shipment?"
Klaus didn’t back away from the blade aimed at his heart.
He didn’t try to formulate a clever excuse or talk his way out of the confrontation. He just looked at the arrogan, demanding guard standing in front of him, and he thought about Sylvia’s letter.
He thought about the absolute disdain nobles held for commoners... He thought about the way they viewed human lives as disposable commodities... and Klaus offered the guard a chilling smile.
"The driver?" Klaus asked, his voice dripping with pure, unadulterated malice. "I mean, you’ll have to ask him when you get there... after all, I killed him."
The guards froze, entirely unprepared for the blunt casual confession of murder and that momentary hesitation was all Klaus needed.
Klaus didn’t draw his iron sword as he channeled his mana directly into his legs.
WHOOSH!
He moved with explosive, terrifying speed, blurring entirely out of the guard’s field of vision. He closed the distance in a fraction of a second, stepping cleanly inside the guard’s reach, bypassing the long halberd completely.
Klaus raised his right hand with his fingers pressed tightly together as he gathered a hyper-condensed sphere of swirling wind mana directly into his palm, compressing the air until it shrieked like a dying bird.
He slammed his palm directly into the center of the guard’s heavy plate armor.
[Phantom Finger-Gun: Point Blank.]
BOOM!
The compressed wind magic detonated on impact as the concussive force completely ignored the physical defense of the expensive steel armor.
The shockwave blew a massive concaved dent into the guard’s chest plate, shattering his ribs and rupturing his internal organs instantly.
The guard was launched backward off his feet, flying through the air like a discarded ragdoll and he slammed violently against the wooden palisade wall, his body crumpling to the snow in a broken heap.
"Intruder!" the second guard screamed, panic flooding his eyes.
He swung his halberd in a wide, desperate arc, aiming to cleave Klaus in half but Klaus ducked smoothly under the swinging blade, his movements precise and effortless.
As the halberd passed over his head, Klaus reached to his hip and drew his iron sword in a lightning-fast upward slash.
He didn’t bother using Soul Mana, instead he just aimed for the weak point.
SLASH!
The blade cut cleanly through the unprotected gap between the guard’s helmet and his breastplate.
It sliced through the thick woolen scarf, severed the man’s jugular vein, and cut deep into his windpipe.
A fountain of hot, bright red blood erupted into the freezing air, melting the snow where it landed.
The second guard dropped his weapon with his hands flying up to clutch his ruined throat. He let out a wet, gurgling gasp, staggering backward for two steps before collapsing onto his knees.
He fell face-first into the snow, dead before his body even stopped twitching.
The entire confrontation lasted less than five seconds.
Mirela stood a few yards away, clutching Klaus’s oversized coat around her trembling shoulders, staring at the fresh corpses painting the white snow crimson.
Klaus stood over the dead guard. He casually wiped the blood from his sword using the dead man’s fur-lined cape.
That was what murder was these days... It was a habit in a way.
He turned to walk away, ready to kick the massive wooden gates open and slaughter whoever was waiting inside but as he stepped over the corpse, he habitually extended his left hand, passing it over the dead man’s body.
It was an ingrained reflex but he didn’t expect anything to happen as humans weren’t monsters.
[Ding!]
A chiming sound echoed in his mind as a brilliant blue screen materialized directly in front of his face, illuminating his dark eyes.
Klaus stopped walking. He froze in place, staring at the glowing text hovering in the blizzard.
[Target Soul Harvested: Tier 2 Human Warrior]
[Analyzing innate biological and magical traits...]
[Please select ONE of the following Skills to extract:]
[Basic Halberd Mastery] * [Minor Fortitude]
[Rallying Cry]
[Strong Eyesight]
Klaus read the prompt and he read it twice.
The words burned themselves into his retinas. The implications of this single, glowing blue tab hit his mind with the force of an avalanche.
The system didn’t distinguish between monsters and men... A soul was a soul... The arrogant, high-born nobles who treated him like dirt... the executioners who hunted people for sport... the elites who hoarded wealth and power in the Capital... they weren’t untouchable gods.
They were just walking, talking loot boxes waiting to be opened.
Klaus lowered his hand and the blue screen vanished, the unselected soul dispersing into the wind.
He slowly raised his head, looking past the dead guards and staring directly at the massive fortified gates of Lord Varhem’s forward operating base.
"Mirela," Klaus said. "Stay out here. I’m going to clear the camp. I need to farm some skills."
The blizzard howled violently around the massive, ice-reinforced palisade walls of Lord Varhem’s forward operating base.
Mirela stood in the deep snow, clutching Klaus’s oversized winter coat tightly around her trembling shoulders.
She watched as her Master walked away from the two freshly slaughtered perimeter guards with his dark boots crunching softly against the frozen ground.
He didn’t look back at her... He didn’t try to sneak around to find a blind spot in the camp’s defenses...
He walked directly up to the massive, steel-banded wooden gates and Klaus raised his left boot and channeled a massive, hyper-condensed surge of wind mana directly into the sole.
He didn’t hold back.
BOOM!
The concussive force of the kick detonated against the wood like a siege cannon. The massive iron hinges shrieked and snapped instantly.
The heavy wooden gates blew inward, splintering into thousands of jagged, flying projectiles that tore through the snowy courtyard beyond.
"Intruder at the main gate!" a voice screamed from inside the camp.
