Chapter 69: A Cold Open

Chapter 69: Chapter 69: A Cold Open

"Fire isn’t doing much," Karl said.

He was crouched behind a slab of broken rock, watching the beetle shake itself off across the quarry. Steam curled from its shell. A few of its blades were chipped. But its wings hummed, steady and strong, and it had already started building another ball in its throat.

"It’s not like the other boss," Karl went on. "That one was ice. Fire was its natural counter. That’s why it hurt. This one doesn’t care. It laughs at flames." He rubbed his chin. "Ice might do the..."

Jared reached into his pouch.

He didn’t think about it. He just did it. His hand closed around something cold and smooth, and he drew it out and held it in the open air between them.

It was a pale gem.

White as old bone, with a faint blue shimmer deep inside, like frost on a window. It rested in his palm, humming softly.

Karl stared at it.

"Isn’t this," he said slowly.

"It is."

"The boss gem."

"The one from earlier. Yeah."

"Why?"

"Take it," Jared said. "As our first token of friendship."

He held it out.

Karl didn’t move. He looked at the gem, then at Jared, then at the gem again. A strange, wary expression crossed his face, as though he were looking at a coin that might be a trick.

"Trust me," Jared said.

[WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!] the system shrieked.

Jared flinched.

[That’s your gem! That’s your boss! That’s the only new beast you’ve gotten since you arrived! You finally have ten beasts again, and you’re giving it away?!]

’Be quiet.’

[You’re giving away an A rank beast to a man you thought stole your dragon!]

’I said be quiet.’

[He might be a thief!]

’I know.’

[He might be playing you!]

’I KNOW.’

He ignored it.

"I do have one condition, though," he said, aloud.

Karl raised an eyebrow.

"If that thing leaves a gem," Jared said, nodding toward the beetle, "then it’s mine."

For a moment, there was silence. The wind sighed across the quarry. A distant beetle shrieked. Karl looked at him, and a slow, crooked smile spread across his face.

"I guess that’s fair," he said.

He took the gem.

It was cold in his hand. He turned it over once, studying it, and something flickered across his face, a kind of reluctant wonder. Then he tucked it in his fist, squared his shoulders, and nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Here’s the plan. You focus on burning. I focus on freezing."

"I thought you said it was the other way around."

"No. You burn the frozen part."

"Wait."

"Listen." Karl held up a finger. "What do you know about thermal shock?"

"I know it’s bad."

"It’s very bad. If you take something hard, freeze it, and then immediately heat it, the surface expands faster than the core. Stress builds. Cracks form. The material gets brittle. It loses its durability." He swirled his hand through the air. "Do it over and over, and you wear down even the toughest shell."

Jared blinked.

"You’re saying we make it crack."

"I’m saying we tank its durability. Freeze, burn. Freeze, burn. Until it’s a pane of glass."

[Hm,] the system muttered. [That’s... actually quite clever.]

’It’s very clever.’

[I hate that he’s smart.]

"Okay," Jared said.

He rolled his shoulders.

It was a good plan. A sound one. And yet, as he stood there, a small, bitter thought nagged at him. He thought of a dark, heavy beast with amber eyes. A dragon that could freeze a patch of ground and set it ablaze in the same breath. Ice and fire, back to back, a seamless loop of destruction.

’She could do this alone.’

The Ground Dragon could freeze a section and burn it in an instant. She wouldn’t need a partner. She wouldn’t need a plan. And right now it took two people, two beasts, and a lot of talking to do what one dragon could do in her sleep.

He pushed the thought away.

"Ready?" Karl said.

"Ready."

Karl raised the gem and let it fall.

It cracked against the rock. Cold light flared. A wave of frost rolled outward in a ring, whitening the stone, silvering the air. The beast rose out of it, tall and gaunt and ghostly pale, a thing of bone and rime, its antlers sparkling with ice crystals.

[ManFreezer (A Rank)]

Jared watched it breathe.

It stood there, quiet, steaming faintly, and the cold radiated off it in waves. It turned its head to look at him. Its empty sockets met his eyes. For a heartbeat, he could have sworn something passed across its face, something quiet and sad and strange.

’I’m sorry.’

He didn’t say it out loud.

"Now," Karl said. "Start the ice."

The ManFreezer lowered its head.

It took a while.

Jared waited, tapping his foot, watching the frost spread across the ground in slow, creeping fingers. It crept out from the beast’s hooves like a living thing, thin, feathery, glittering. It rolled across the stone, climbing the rocks, spreading toward the beetle.

The beetle wasn’t going to let them do as they pleased.

It spun around with a screech.

Its mouth opened.

A fat white ball shot out of its throat and tore across the quarry, trailing sparks. It was aimed at Jared. He saw it coming and jumped, firing a burst of gas behind him. The ball slammed into the rock where he’d been standing and exploded in a shower of gravel.

He rolled to his feet, grinning.

"Missed!"

The beetle fired again.

A second ball. A third. They came in a rapid volley, screaming across the quarry. Jared danced between them, spinning, ducking, blasting himself sideways. Each one missed by a hair. The air filled with smoke and sparks.

[Mana: 468]

He was running out of room.

One of the balls veered off course, curving toward Karl.

"Karl!"

"I’ve got it."

He didn’t move.

The ball flew straight at him. It struck the ManFreezer, which stood beside him like a silent guard. And the explosion failed.

It simply didn’t happen.

The ball hit the ManFreezer’s chest, hissed, and went out. A faint plume of steam rose from the point of impact. That was all. The ice had swallowed it whole.

Karl shrugged.

"Told you."

"You didn’t tell me."

"I’m telling you now."

"That’s not the same."

Jared turned back toward the boss, shaking his head.

The cold was growing. A white mist drifted across the quarry, thick and heavy. The air bit his lungs. Frost glittered on the beetle’s legs.

He took a breath.

’Now.’

He fired.

He launched himself across the field in a streak of green flame, a fist drawn back, and slammed into the boss with a massive dose of explosion. The blast was bigger than anything he’d thrown yet. It hit the beetle in the chest, and the whole creature flew backward, crashing across the quarry, trailing smoke.

He chased after it.

He tore across the dirt, dodging craters, his heart hammering, his arms burning. He saw a shape flicker in the dust ahead of him, and then another. Dozens of them. A wave of smaller beetles, scuttling forward to meet him, mandibles clicking.

They hit him halfway.

They poured over him in a black flood, clawing at his legs and arms, shoving him back. He kicked one off. He punched another. The pressure was enormous. He slid backward, boots skidding, his arms flailing.

A claw swung out of the haze.

It was the boss.

It had recovered. It stood over him, wings spread, its long blade of an arm swinging through the air. He saw it coming and tried to duck. He was a half second too slow. The blade grazed his cheek.

It cut him.

A hot, sharp line of pain flared across his face. Blood welled up and ran down his jaw. He hissed and staggered back, one hand pressed to his cheek, and the beetle’s eyes gleamed.

It had left a mark.

Jared stared at it, breathing hard.

Then, quite deliberately, he turned and ran.

He ran across the quarry, away from the boss, away from the horde, his arms pumping. He looked like a man in retreat. He looked like a boy who’d been beaten, who’d lost his nerve, who was fleeing for his life.

He wasn’t.

The beetle took the bait.

It shrieked and surged after him, wings humming, legs churning. It plunged across the dirt in great, bounding strides. The ground shook. Dust billowed behind it. It was fast, and it was furious, and it was closing the distance.

Jared stopped suddenly.

He skidded in the dirt, boots grinding, and froze.

The beetle stopped as well.

They both stopped, but for different reasons.

Jared stopped because he knew.

The beetle stopped because it couldn’t move.

It stood a few yards behind him, frozen in mid stride, one foot raised, one blade extended. A glittering white shell had crept up its legs, over its belly, up its spine. The ice had caught up to it. A thin sheet of frost covered its whole body, sealing it in place like a fly in amber. Only its dark, furious eyes still moved.

Jared turned around slowly.

He looked at the boss.

[That was clever,] the system said, grudgingly.

’I know.’

[You baited it.]

’I know!’

He wiped the blood off his chin.

"Will you do the honors?" Karl called.

He was standing on the far side of the quarry, hands in his pockets, the pale ManFreezer at his side. He looked relaxed. He looked like a man watching a ball game. His breath puffed out in a cloud.

"Allow me," Jared said.

He drew back his fist.

A single spark danced across his knuckles.

He punched.

BOOM.

The explosion hit the frozen beetle like a hammer on a pane of glass. A massive shockwave rolled across the quarry. The boss was hurled backward, spinning, tumbling, trailing steam and shards of ice. It hit the ground, bounced, and slid to a stop in a heap.

It didn’t get up immediately.

[Mana: 301]

A hairline crack, long and thin, ran across its chest.

Jared stared at it.

"That’s all the proof we need!" Karl shouted.

He threw his fist in the air.

"It works! It actually works! We just need to do that a couple more times!"

Jared’s heart leapt. He felt it swell in his chest, hot and wild and bright. They’d done it. It was working. It was actually working. The shell was cracking.

"What are you waiting for?" Karl said.

Jared turned.

Karl was pointing across the field, one arm outstretched, his face lit up with excitement.

"Look," he said. "It’s frozen again."

Jared looked.

The beetle was getting up. It shook itself, staggering, and a fresh layer of frost crept up its legs, crawling across its shell. It froze in place, glittering, helpless.

Jared smiled.

It was a small, wolfish thing, sharp and quiet. He rolled his neck. He flexed his fingers. Pins and needles still prickled in his palms, but the numbness had faded. He felt the old spark in his thumb, bright and ready.

He cracked his knuckles.