Ch 173.

  While Matt concentrated on his puppets as they grew stronger, battling one feeble monster after another, the world around him was far from stagnant. Both allies and adversaries were busy plotting their next moves; Spencer was not the only member of Nightguard intent on eliminating Matt. In fact, he had been eagerly disseminating every scrap of intel he gathered about Matt in Nightguard’s leadership chat, painting a target on his back. The revelation of a dungeon entrance at the North Pole ignited a spark of excitement within their ranks, compelling Wilfried Bonnot to make that his primary objective.

  Wilfried, much like Spencer, did not view himself as a subordinate to Song Xiang. He had willingly allowed Song Xiang to assume the leadership role, primarily to avoid drawing the ire of others toward himself. He still believed this was the wisest choice, especially given the mounting casualties that had resulted from Song Xiang's directives, which had decimated their group’s trust in him. Song Xiang’s only actual ally from their group, Xian Bai had become a willing plaything in exchange for safety, turning the other three survivors into enemies of her as well. Still, the other three also had no inclination to ally with each other anytime soon as all of them had pushed risks to each other in their attempts to survive. This situation was precisely why Wilfried only half-heartedly attempted to recruit new members, often leaving them with vague instructions about strengthening themselves before moving on.

  In truth, he had little concern for the future of Nightguard; he merely required its existence to further his own schemes, as it provided a valuable source of information from none other than Spencer. To his surprise, he had to admit that the so-called waste of space had done something commendable by capturing one of Scattered Stars’ founding members. Yet, all of that was neither here nor there as Wilfried glided effortlessly from one ice sheet to another, utilizing a shadowy movement skill. The clouds overhead facilitated his passage across the ocean, making it relatively easy for him to navigate northward once he encountered the ice flows that he was using to do so.

  Yet, he encountered something unexpected on one of the ice sheets—a woman, her expression a mix of despair and weariness, huddled on a larger slab. Had it not been for the dark crimson stains smeared across the white ice, he might have overlooked her entirely. But the sight of the blood suggested that someone or something had to be present on the ice. To his surprise, it was an attractive young woman, and he couldn’t help but entertain the thought that she might provide some amusement, if nothing else. Who knew what other advantages she might offer, being stranded all the way out here? With a calculated step, he made his presence known to her. “Well, hello there! Might I ask what brings you all the way out here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Zara snapped back, her sword gripped tightly in her hands, ready for a fight. “I don’t see any boat, and you aren’t wet. Can you fly or something?”

  “Or something,” Wilfried replied, a charming smile playing on his lips. “I take it you had a boat, and things didn’t go as planned?”

  “Something like that. So, what do you want?”

  “Please, I mean you no harm. I simply thought it would be wrong to pass by someone in need without at least checking in on them.”

  Zara hesitated, almost swayed by his seemingly genuine concern, but memories of how Spencer had approached Rose with false kindness before turning on her flooded her mind. She frowned, her mistrust evident as she responded, “And what help can you possibly offer?”

  “I see your point,” admitted Wilfried, his tone shifting to a more earnest note. “My method of arriving here can’t accommodate another person, and finding this place again could be impossible. Still, I thought you might appreciate some company, or at least someone to talk to.”

  “Well, I’m not interested, and my experiences tell me I should advise you to leave.”

  Wilfried frowned, sensing that she had no intention of even humoring him. “Very well, then I’ll—” Activating his shadow movement ability, he felt confident he would catch her off guard. However, when he materialized in her shadow, her blade sliced deeply into his side. The pain jolted through him as he barely managed to evade what would have been a fatal blow as she followed up her attack; her weapon grazed his cheek, leaving a crimson trail in its wake. To make matters worse, she pressed the attack relentlessly, preventing him from slipping back into the shadows. This was one of the few vulnerabilities in his technique—he could be rendered helpless for a fraction of a second. In the past, that would have been inconsequential, as it was only slightly slower than the fastest human reflexes. But now, in this integrated world, it felt like an eternity, and that brief moment was more than enough time for her to strike, disrupting his skill.

  He needed to buy himself some time; it was clear he had stumbled upon a tiger when he expected to find a sheep. Yet Zara showed no signs of letting up, forcing him to make a difficult decision. He raised his knife to block her next strike and began to inch toward the edge of the ice. But as if she could read his mind, Zara pivoted with impressive agility, swiftly positioning herself behind him and driving him back toward the center of the ice.

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  Zara wanted to scream. The way the man had looked at her just before he materialized from her shadow was seared into her memory. It was a gaze that stripped her of dignity, revealing his perception of her as nothing more than prey—a mere plaything to be toyed with and discarded once he had his fill. She recognized that he possessed strength, evident from his presence in the desolate stretch of ice sheets surrounding them. She had traversed a few of these treacherous expanses herself, trying to push further north, and knew the dangers they concealed. Yet, even with the advantage of position, she understood that one slip could turn the tide against her in an instant.

  Meanwhile, Wilfried felt the sting of his HP dwindling as more cuts marred his skin—each one a testament to Zara’s relentless assault. He struggled to evade or block her strikes entirely, accepting a series of minor wounds that chipped away at his resolve. Despite this, he recognized that it was not merely her stats that put him at a disadvantage; it was her skill, her precision, that made the difference. Logic dictated that he should have been the victor based on numbers alone, yet here he was, on the defensive. Instead of succumbing to frustration, a smile crept across his face as he began to see Zara’s true worth—far beyond what he had initially anticipated. With this newfound perspective fueling him, he shifted his stance and prepared to launch an attack. But just as Zara anticipated his move to counter, Wilfried dropped low, diving forward with surprising agility.

  The small gap this created was just enough for Wilfried to roll and leap into the icy ocean, the salt water stinging against his wounds before the numbing cold enveloped him moments later. This was the last place he wanted to be, acutely aware that it would only take minutes for predators to be drawn to the scent of his blood. With urgency, he began to meld with the shadows cast by the jagged ice floats, propelling himself away from danger. A few minutes later, he found himself sprawled on an ice float, a few miles from where Zara stood.

  Zara felt a scream rise within her as the worst-case scenario unfolded before her eyes. Even at a distance, she could see Wilfried haul himself from the frigid water, the sight clear as day to her sharp gaze. She needed to escape, and she needed to act swiftly. But how could she? Her path had been meticulously carved around combat, with persistence, swordplay, attack, power, precision, and reaction defining her ‘Unerring Killing Blade’ path. While persistence, precision, and reaction could serve her in other contexts, she had yet to devise a strategy that would liberate her from the endless expanse of ice sheets.

  Days slipped by, one after another, but the situation remained unchanged, as a stalemate between them established itself, this had Wilfried biding his time, waiting for Zara to succumb to sleep. He found himself more than willing to doze off once his clothes were thoroughly dry. He even faked sleep multiple times, testing whether Zara would make a move, confident that he held the upper hand. Meanwhile, Zara maintained a serene smile, sitting motionless, her eyes open yet unblinking. This was a tactic she had developed by merging her essences of persistence and reaction, allowing her to remain vigilant while appearing at ease.

  It had been a straightforward enough concept once she was compelled to devise a solution. By mastering her body’s instinctual response to the onset of sleep, she managed to appear fully awake while actually resting. Taking it a step further, she integrated this skill with her other abilities, creating a technique that she believed would respond to any threat with a swift swing of her sword. However, she remained uncertain about the effectiveness of her efforts; aside from waking up in a seated position, Zara had no reliable means to verify whether her strategy was working.

  As a week dragged on, Wilfried grew increasingly impatient. He reasoned that even if she was still conscious, she must be utterly exhausted. When he noticed her unresponsive demeanor as he shifted on the ice, he suspected she was attempting to lure him in for an ambush. Yet, as he approached her, standing on the same slab of ice, he realized with a jolt that she was not merely pretending; she was sleeping with her eyes wide open, staring blankly into the distance. Part of him felt the urge to shout at her for being so infuriatingly difficult, but he quickly decided that this was an ideal opportunity. He stepped closer, casually tossing a few chunks of ice over her head to gauge her reaction.

  He understood that if he could disarm her, controlling her would become a simple task, so he reached for her sword. But as his fingers brushed against the hilt, a searing pain shot through him, and in a horrifying instant, he watched as his forearm fell to the ground, severed at the elbow. Shock washed over him, leaving him momentarily paralyzed, just as Zara’s blade sliced into his side. With a desperate stumble, he activated his shadow movement ability, barely escaping as Zara fully awakened, her eyes now sharp and alert.

  Seeing the severed arm lying on the ice caused Zara to hesitate, her breath catching in her throat as she watched her enemy flee. Yet, a bright smile broke across her face when she noticed him just a few ice sheets away. Rising gracefully, she picked up his severed limb, examining it with a mix of triumph and curiosity. The adrenaline coursing through her veins told her she had landed another solid blow, and she felt the sweet taste of victory wash over her. But she wasn't finished; with a deliberate flick of her wrist, she hurled the severed arm into the churning ocean, relishing the way it splashed into the dark water. Even if she suspected he could regrow it, the sight of his lost appendage being disposed of would surely be demoralizing.

  The anguished scream that erupted from him made her wonder if he was aware of the simple technique Kal had demonstrated to Matt’s group. If he didn’t know it, she hoped he would be left with only one arm for the foreseeable future. Yet, there was a downside to her newfound skills: it was Greg who had first suggested the possibility of such techniques in their leadership chat, which meant she owed him a thank you. Out of everyone in their group, Zara believed Greg was having the worst time of all. He was constantly fleeing from women who, upon discovering his strength, were eager to join his harem. As he put it, nearly all of them were dead weight, and only those willing to fight alongside him were worthy of consideration. Still, she thought it was his own damn fault for carelessly revealing his dream of having a harem someday and he could reap what he had sown for all she cared in that aspect.