He'd gotten surprisingly far fighting this thing. Truth be told, he should've died dodging the tail, blocking the flame, and then blocking the claws. All things considered, if this was it, he was satisfied getting further than he should've.
Frost Direshard had never been known to give up, though. He was a stubborn, wrathful bastard. If anything, he thought, this wyvern should be counting its blessings for getting this far against me. He'd sooner eat a full plate of dog shit before letting this thing live. This was the one thing he was certain of as he plummeted down the side of a cliff on the back of the strange creature.
Indeed, the other thing he lamented was how exactly he got into this situation. He missed Earth, and he still wondered sometimes if he was dreaming or just having one long delusion. How would he explain his scars and his trauma to others when he returned? Would they believe any of it? To them, these stories would mean nothing but entertainment and maybe a laugh. To Frost, it meant survival.
"Can't run away, huh!?" Frost cried out. "You damn thing!" And he started stabbing down with all of the strength he could muster. The wyvern's own claw dug into its back repeatedly and inspired screams of pain from the beast. Frost stabbed and then stabbed again. He kept stabbing until all he could see was red, and the skin colour of his hand had changed, too. As expected of a beast this size, though, it kept diving downward.
Before long, the ground was in sight too. Frost started panicking, since it seemed like the wyvern was fully intent on barrelling straight into the ground and killing them both. A forest filled with trees that towered into the sky now surrounded them, and Frost lost line of sight with the sky. He pulled up on the rope like he was trying to control a horse, and caused the wyvern to change direction at the last moment. They levelled out, and the whiplash threatened to snap Frost's neck.
It's trying to shake me off! This became even more apparent as it did a barrel roll and weaved between trees with expert precision. Frost was swung to and fro, and each time he had to avoid getting impaled by the spines on the thing's back as he came back down. That, and dodging the trees and branches. Even hitting a branch at this speed would probably be deadly.
Once the wyvern realized it had no chance of swinging him off, it turned straight upwards and shot from the top of the trees. Frost dangled, hands run ragged and the skin tearing as he held onto the rope with every ounce of strength available. The wyvern, too, was being strangled now and seemingly counting on the fact that Frost would fall first. The whistling of the wind around him pushed him forward and reminded him of the sure-death that lay below him in free fall.
To his left, the slaves could be seen screaming and yelling at him words of encouragement. This did nothing to quell the sensation of fear as they broke through the clouds. Condensed bits of water hit him at speeds high enough to mimic the impact of rocks, his skin soon covered in red welts. Part of him thought it was worth it for the view that came when the wyvern leveled out above the clouds, though.
The sky was blue like the cleanest oceans, still and completely undisturbed by anything at all. It was a sight that simply wasn't possible where Frost came from. And then there were the peaks of the mountain that jutted out above the clouds, the only semblance of a world below. Those peaks were sharp and snowy, and reminded Frost of the temperature he'd done well to ignore. The tips of his fingers were damn near turning to ice. He breathed out and saw a cloud pluming away from his lips.
To kill this thing, he needed a big weapon. The claw simply wouldn't be enough. He had any idea, but whether it was possible was an entirely different question. He wrangled the wyvern and directed it towards the mountains. The creature was still performing quick and complicated movements, trying in vain to throw Frost off. The air was so thin up here that it could just wait to choke him out, anyway. At this rate he'd lose.
So he kicked off and jumped from its back, reaching up towards the infinite blue above. He breathed out and then back in again, calming himself as he hit the top of his leap and the jump transformed into a fall. He flipped over himself and assumed a diving position towards the wyvern which was now flying around in a confused circle. Seeing its opportunity, it turned to Frost and let out a mighty roar before flying towards him at maximum speed with its mouth wide open.
Him, a regular human being, versus a wyvern. It was a creature of legend, but he was a creature of the night. A ruthless creature at a level even this wyvern might have found unfathomable. That very individual had now been granted the power necessary to take on that creature of legend. He didn't fear that massive open mouth, nor did he fear the claws or the wings. It came down to this, a pure contest of strength that would take place over a single instant. He'd be swallowed or thrown away, or he'd have the power to kill the beast before him.
[TheConquerer356: You've changed the hearts of men. Now finish the job.]
[GreatGadfly30: This whole shindig is making my palms sweat.]
[MasterOfTheFlute: You are suited to the path of a warrior.]
[Checkpointer20: This is ridiculous.]
[DragonSlayer53: I don't know who you are, boy…]
[DragonSlayer53: But keep up the good work.]
Frost howled out and felt power permeate his veins down to the last inch of muscle. The wyvern's mouth approached with haste, and that black void was all too close to swallowing him whole. He adjusted his trajectory and reached out desperately with his right hand. For a moment it seemed like they might miss each other entirely, and Frost would simply fall to his death. The wyvern no doubt felt relief at this.
But something tugged on its horn.
Frost squeezed with all of his grip strength to hold on despite the pressure of the wind. He then kicked off of the wyvern's head and threw with all of his body, enhanced with the strength of the void. The wyvern came with him, howling out with a voice that shook the air. Frost plummeted, somehow dragging the body of this beast behind him. It was a struggle, but he managed to follow through accompanied by the distinct feeling of his arm tearing in a few different places. The wyvern entered an uncontrolled fall downward. For a creature with wings, falling was only a temporary problem.
That was probably what it was thinking when the tip of the mountain impaled it straight through the skull. Its body spasmed, its wings went still and the rest of it flopped down the mountainside, held in place by the environmental equivalent of a nail and left to hang there like a banner. The tip of the mountain was dyed red, feasting upon the blood of its bounty. Frost felt the vibrations as the entire range shook from the monumental impact.
And then he fell something like twenty metres to the ground. The snow worked to break his fall, but not nearly hard enough. He felt both of his legs crack beneath him and he immediately fell over into the snow. His whole body was immobile and he was struggling to breathe now. He coughed and blood leaked down his chin. Dear God. Every edifice of his body hurt like he'd been stabbed with thousands of tiny pins.
He stared up at the open sky and thought that this beautiful locale wouldn't be the worst place to die. How was he to escape here, anyway? He was slowly freezing to death and could barely breathe. Even if that wasn't an issue, his limbs were in no shape to move at all.
[Clear condition has been met. Distributing participation rewards.]
[Attribute acquired: Will of the People.]
The air became lighter and the sphere was dispelled in an instant. Even the wyvern, and object of the distortion, changed and healed to eliminate all evidence of its death being anything but an accident. The world worked hard to forget everything that happened here. Frost, however, was still left to die on this mountainside. His legs were broken, his foot was stabbed through, and he had a nasty cut across his back. His vision started to wane. He hadn't realized it earlier, but that tail cut seemed to have hit something vital.
Frost pressed a hand to his heart and felt its beating slow. It was a strange feeling to actively be dying. He thought he could see glimpses of something beyond, but they kept vanishing before he could get a good look. Just as he thought this, something flitted past his vision as clear as the daylight itself. Golden locks played across his vision. Her golden hair, perfect as they were in his memory.
He reached out to grab them, but they vanished just as his hand gripped them. In that instant, his hand lost strength and flopped to the ground. Frost had lived his life with a variety of purposes. He'd thought that he could find his parents. He'd tried so hard to be free. If that wasn't possible, then the next best option was the one that he'd considered for a long time.
Join Vera in that peaceful place where the worries of life didn't exist. For the first time in his life, Frost thought he could die and leave behind a memory. He'd saved those men, and they wouldn't forget him like his own world surely had.
Boots could be heard tromping through the snow nearby. Frost expected to meet God for real this time, but instead found a pretty mean looking woman standing over him. She had a sabre at her hip and little more than a tunic in way of armour. Despite this, she had an air of power that he could not deny.
[Checkpointer20: NOT GOOD.]
"Are you the Voidhunter that started this mess?" She asked calmly.
"Huh?" Frost replied, half dead.
"Come with me. Under article fourty-five section two of the Realmguard code, you're under arrest."
And it was at this exact moment that Frost's body succumbed to its wounds, knocking him unconscious.