Getting back to my feet took nearly as much effort as slaying the leopard had. The kill had given me new hope though, and I forced my tortured body into motion.

But I didn’t sate my hunger immediately.

Instead, I began stacking snow.

The fight had cleared my mind, and I realized I couldn’t keep searching for shelter. After hours of finding none, it would be foolish to expect to find any soon. The solution was obvious.

I had to build my own.

Packing and stacking blocks of snow together, I painstakingly constructed an igloo. The work went slowly, but I wasn’t about to give up, not with a reprieve from the weather almost within my grasp.

An eternity later, I was done.

Returning to the leopard, I dragged it through the small hole I’d left open, then sealed it off with more snow. Finally, I turned back to the corpse.

It was time to eat.

Unsheathing the slim dagger I’d taken from Wick, I began cutting. The beast’s body was already half-frozen, but I didn’t let that stop me. Sawing off a fistful of raw meat, I shoved it into my mouth.

It was tasteless, mushy, and nearly inedible.

But it was sustenance. Ignoring my rebellious stomach, I chewed and chewed. Then chewed some more, before finally swallowing.

Right, next bite.

Returning to the corpse, I cut another slice.

~~~

A little later, I was sated.

Despite being forced to ingest the meat uncooked, I had no complaints about how nourishing my meal had been. My ice hut was also doing its job and the numbness was disappearing from my extremities. I was far from warm, but I was no longer a poor excuse for an icicle and could think again. Sitting down cross-legged in the center of my small abode, I took stock of the situation.

There was no getting around it: I was lost.

I was adrift on a frozen tundra that, while not entirely barren of life, was at best sparsely populated. Where to from here? I wondered. I had to find the sector boss and nether portal, obviously. But how?

I had no idea.

Figuring out how to navigate the icy wasteland was beyond me. And if what I’d seen of the sector thus far was any indication, it was both larger and harsher than the previous two.

So, for now at least, I had to accept that my main objectives were out of reach. Where did that leave me? My gaze drifted back to the leopard corpse.

Control what you can.

The things I could control were few, but thanks to the snow leopard they included two things vital to my survival. Staying warm. And staying fed.

I drew my knife. Right, let’s get to work.

~~~

A few hours later, I’d skinned the leopard, cut and packed the edible bits, set aside anything remotely useful, and cleaned the bones.

Sitting back, I surveyed what I had to work with.

ebonheart, soulbound shortsword.

shortsword,+1

amulets of earth and fire.

a slim dagger.

a rag cloak.

10 x portions of raw meat.

an untreated piece of animal skin.

animal fat.

animal sinew.

bone slivers.

miscellaneous large bones.

My possessions were undoubtedly meager, but they were a damn sight more than I’d had a few hours ago, and if I put them to good use, they might just see me through the next few days.

Digging a small hole in the snow, I buried the meat to freeze it all the way through. It would make for passable rations. I had nothing to carry the frozen food in though, and after a moment’s thought, I cut off a small piece of leopard’s skin and fashioned it into a crude bag. The animal skin, even bloodied and untreated, was cleaner than the ratmen rags, and a better choice for storing the meat.

Holding up the rest of the snow leopard’s skin, I ran my fingers through the fur. It was surprisingly warm and would make a good addition to my cloak.

I unwrapped the ratmen rags from around my body. Calling it a cloak was a bit of a misnomer. I’d thrown the ‘garment’ together in haste and the workmanship was definitely shoddy.

Time to do something about that.

I had tools now—bone splinters for needles, and sinew for thread. Better yet, I had one single large skin to act as a frame, and animal fat for added insulation.

Head bent, I began crafting.

~~~

I had no crafting skills, of course.

But despite my lack of Game-gifted knowledge on the subject, that did not stop me from muddling through.

Fashioning a bone needle was hard and entailed a lot of cursing. Sewing with the sinew fibers was even harder and left my fingers bloody. But I persevered, and when I was finally done, I had a half-decent item to show for my efforts.

You have created a leopard cloak. This garment is crudely made from uncured animal skins and will rot in hot climes. Due to its poor construction, the cloak offers only the most basic protection from the cold. Additionally, due to the item’s weight, you will suffer a -20% movement penalty while it is equipped.

I snorted in derision at the Adjudicator’s description.

The cloak was definitely nothing much to look at, but it was certainly warmer than anything else I had. Wrapped inside it, I could already feel my body temperature rising. With my immediate needs met, I turned my attention inwards and checked my player status.

You have reached level 114 and have 3 attribute points available.

I pursed my lips as I considered my attribute points. Given my current predicament, I didn’t think it wise to invest in Mind again. Constitution would likely serve me better in the debilitating weather.

But for all I knew, I might find a way out the tundra tomorrow. In that case, increasing my Constitution would be the wrong choice.

Better to bank the points for now, I decided. Until I have a better picture of what I’m facing.

With nothing else to do, I lay down on a bed of snow. It was time to grab what sleep I could.

~~~

I awoke blissfully warm and to a welcome Game message.

You are no longer afflicted by frostbite.

Smiling, I sat upright and flexed my hands. They felt normal again. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep for, but I felt much better for the rest.

Things were looking up.

Rising to my feet, I picked up one of the discarded leopard bones and broke through a hole in the igloo.

It was still snowing. I stared upwards. Thick clouds blanketed the sky, hiding the sun. My good mood evaporated. Nothing about the landscape had changed. Retrieving my rations, I waded out into the snow and looked for the leopard’s tracks or my own.

I found neither.

Damnit! Kicking the snow in frustration, I turned about in an angry circle. Somewhere in this godforsaken tundra there had to be shelter. The snow leopard had to have come from somewhere, after all. But from where?

The answer eluded me.

Sighing in defeat, I picked a direction at random and began walking.

~~~

Three days passed.

Three long, horrible days during which the weather did not let up. Not once.

The only change I observed during all that time was the periodic darkening of the sky brought on by nightfall. I didn’t encounter any other beasts either. I had no plan. No strategy. Except to keep walking—in the hope I would get somewhere eventually.

On the second day, I received a Game alert.

The allotted time for bounty 674 has expired. You have failed the job. Your BHG ID has been updated. Active bounties remaining: 2 of 5.

The Adjudicator’s message was a not-so-gentle reminder that time was not standing still in the outside world, even if it felt like that inside the dungeon. It made me wonder about the mantises again.

What had happened to them?

It was long past the point when Menaq’s disciples should’ve located me. Perhaps my theory about how they’re finding me is wrong, I reflected.

Or perhaps, they knew where I was but couldn’t get to me. Or perhaps, the assassins’ reasons were more insidious. Maybe they believed I was irreparably lost and were content to let the dungeon do what they couldn’t.

I shuddered. It was not a pleasant thought.

But, right now, strange as it sounded, the mantises were only a secondary concern. Turning my attention outwards again, I scanned the horizon in the vain hope something had changed. But once more, the featureless landscape defeated me.

Sighing, I forged onwards.

More time passed, and I covered untold miles, traveling only in the day and sleeping during the night. There was no reason to do otherwise.

By the end of the fourth day, my stores of food were half-depleted. I’d been rationing them carefully, eating only when I absolutely had to. Still, I knew I would have to find more food soon or risk starvation. The fifth day came and went with no change to my solitary existence.

But on the sixth day, the monotony was finally broken.

~~~

My morning began like any other. Waking early, I packed my meager belongings and started walking.

Over the last few days, I’d taken to following the wind. I suspected it was a far from a reliable compass, but for lack of anything better, it would do.

Very quickly, I fell into the rhythm I’d become accustomed to. Walking across the tundra in newbie shoes was not easy. With each step, my legs sank inches deep in the snow, and I was forced to alter my stride to compensate for the need to wrench my feet free each time.

In hindsight, I realized that in addition to the cloak, I should’ve fashioned a pair of snowshoes as well, but I’d been so taken by being warm, I’d not spared a thought for other concerns. Given my odd gait, I’d gotten in the habit of dropping my head and watching my feet.

Which was why I almost missed the shape approaching from the left.

Something—a scent on the wind or perhaps a half-caught glimpse—made me look up and scan the surroundings. A four-footed beast was churning through the snow towards me.

Dropping my food pack, I threw off my cloak. The onrushing creature was some way off, yet it still loomed large in my vision.

It’s big, then.

Narrowing my gaze, I took in the rest of the creature’s appearance. The beast’s coat was ice white, making its form difficult to pick out from the terrain. But judging from the amount of snow the creature was kicking up, it was not only large, it was fast too.

Reaching out with my will, I analyzed the beast.

The target is a level 130 cave bear.

This shouldn’t be too difficult. Weaving psi together, I cast charm.

You have failed to charm a cave bear. The target is in the grips of a berserker fury and, while in this state, is immune to mental manipulation.

Well. Not so simple, after all. But despite the danger of facing down an angry bear without armor and in its own territory, I was eager for the fight.

I hope it tastes better than leopard, I mused idly while drawing my blades.

The beast drew closer, and more of its features became apparent: a bared muzzle, black lips, razor-sharp claws, and cold blue eyes, both of which were fixed unerringly on me.

“Come on, big boy,” I whispered, dropping into a crouch. “I’m waiting.”

Whether or not the bear grasped my words, it certainly seemed to understand my tone. The rage in its gaze grew, and it sped up a notch. I smiled. An angry foe was a careless foe.

The bear closed to within four yards, casting me in shadow and causing the saner parts of me to gibber in terror. Its true size was now glaringly obvious: the bloody thing was more than twice my own height.

You can’t kill that! my rational mind screamed. Flee!

I ignored it.

Two more yards and the bear reached striking range. A meaty paw—bigger than me—swiped downward.

I didn’t wait to meet it.

You have teleported 5 yards. You have evaded a cave bear’s attack.

I emerged out of the aether on the beast’s back. Dropping to one knee, I plunged both my blades into my foe.

You have struck your target with a grazing blow.

Wow. My mouth rounded in shock. Both my swords were buried hilt-deep into the bear, yet they barely seemed to have penetrated through its protective layer of fat.

The bear twisted around, jaws snapping.

Jerking into motion, I yanked free my blades and somersaulted backwards.

You have evaded a cave bear’s attack.

Mid-air, I cast two-step, breaking my fall as I landed lightly on the snow again. The bear swung around, fury rimming its eyes. Then before my startled gaze, it grew even larger.

A cave bear has cast primal wrath, temporarily doubling its size.

I gulped. Alrighty. Perhaps angering it wasn’t such a good idea.