It had already been a couple of hours since Damiond started walking in this snowstorm. Even with a thick layer of aura, he was starting to get cold. He was losing sensation throughout his body, and it was getting hard to walk.
"This should be far enough," Damiond said to himself, as he believed he had traveled a considerable distance to be safe from his family for now.
Just as he started to relax a bit, he heard a howl that left his body shivering. He knew there were monsters in this area but had dismissed the thought, thinking no one would be crazy enough to go out in this kind of harsh snowstorm. But it seemed like he was wrong—or was he?
He had learned the behavior of different kinds of monsters as part of his training. He knew that no low-tier monster would go out in this kind of weather unless under unique circumstances. He just didn't know what those circumstances were.
Just as he was thinking that, he saw a wolf, almost his size, nearly a kilometer away on a small peak. It was still hard to see it because of the snowstorm, but the moment his eyes met with the wolf's, it lunged at him in a bloody frenzy.
"Shit."
Usually, it wouldn't be hard to take care of one wolf—not to mention he had already ranked up—but these kinds of monsters usually traveled in groups. Even worse, he didn't have any weapon to protect himself.
He also couldn't run away, as the wolf was much faster than him, especially in this terrain. He had left his monsters in a small cave somewhere during his travel after realizing they could not handle the cold and would probably die if exposed to these temperatures any longer. They could also serve as scouts since he could see through their eyes—though none of them really had eyes.
As his last hope of survival, he focused all of his aura into his punches, leaving the rest of his body vulnerable, and started to prepare for the fight.
After a few seconds, the wolf was right in front of him, running toward him like it wanted him dead more than anything else. The moment it reached Damiond, it jumped forward to attack him from above. Damiond ducked down, avoiding its bite, and punched it in the stomach—probably its weakest part. The moment the wolf landed, it lost its balance, but without caring for itself, it lunged back at him, attacking head-on.
Protecting his head, Damiond pulled his left hand forward. The wolf bit into his hand, but it couldn't bite all the way through, as it was still protected by aura. Though that didn't save him from the immeasurable pain. He put his right hand on the wolf's mouth, grabbed it by the teeth, and started pushing it outward, knowing it was the only way to save his hand.
But he wasn't strong enough to break its jaw. Just as he let out a scream and started to lose consciousness, a sword appeared—made out of his blood from his right hand—as it pierced through the skull of the wolf.
He fell to his knees and started breathing heavily as he realized what he had just done. It was like last time when he lost control of his consciousness. It was as if his own power wanted him alive.
He looked at the new weapon, which was now buried in the wolf's head, realizing it was humiliating to even call it a sword—it was more like a spear, at least from the way it had pierced through.
His vision started to get blurry as he realized he had lost too much blood in this skirmish. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest, but he knew that would be his last sleep.
He picked up the wolf by one of its legs and exerted his aura outward to search for shelter. Luckily, he saw, just a couple of meters away, the entrance to a small cave. He didn't know how deep it went or whether there were any monsters, but it was his best bet.
He dragged the wolf and started to head toward the cave. After a couple of minutes, he arrived. Just as he entered, his vision blurred and he collapsed, his face hitting the cold, solid ground.
After that moment, he didn't know what happened. But the very next time he regained consciousness, he realized there were soft but cold hands touching his arms—someone was dragging him across the cold surface. Then, he lost consciousness again.
The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a beautiful garden. Just as he moved, he realized something was off. His movement felt unnatural. Looking at a small pond, he realized his body was much younger—as if he were a kid again.
Just then, he heard a voice coming from somewhere behind the tree he was resting against.
"Damiond, you're not crying again, are you? I already told you I'm sorry," said a young girl with blonde hair, her face still not completely visible, as she suddenly appeared from his right side.
Damiond's eyes lit up with sadness as he saw her. But the moment he lifted his hand to touch her—
His eyes opened.
There was a fire burning in front of him with meat hanging above it. He realized he was sitting in some cave.
The very next moment, he heard a voice across the fire.
"Finally awake, are you? You've been sleeping for at least two days."
As he looked at the person in front of him, it was an adult woman, probably in her thirties. She had black hair and gray eyes. Judging by her body, he was sure she was pregnant—and pretty close to giving birth at that. She also had a small parrot sitting on her shoulder.
Damiond looked at her and asked in a tired voice,"Who are you?"