The frozen wind tore at my cloak like a wild beast clawing for blood. I hunched low on Red's back, pulling my scarf tighter over my face as snow whipped sideways across the steppe-taiga. The bitter cold stabbed at every inch of exposed skin, the kind of cold that didn't just freeze flesh—it dug deep into the bone. The trees around us bowed and groaned beneath heavy blankets of frost, their pine needles dusted white and sharp as broken glass. The ground beneath Red's hooves was frozen solid, crunching like dry bones with every step.
Three nights.
That was the sentence the System had given me. Three nights alone in this frozen wasteland, with no fire, no shelter, and barely enough food to last a day. Just me, my horse Red, my wolf Wise, and the storm.
There was no one else to rely on. No gods to pray to. No clan to watch my back.
Only the System.
[System Alert: Skyborn System — Initialization Complete.]
[Steppe Soul Verified: Alto.]
[Trial I — Endure the Winter Storm Alone.]
Objective: Survive three nights on the frozen steppe-taiga during the blizzard.
Resources limited. Food scarce. Fire difficult.
Beware the Frostfang — a supernatural predator native to this land.
Failure means death or surrender.
Reward: +2 Endurance, Passive Skill — Cold Breath of the Wind.
The System's voice echoed in my mind, cold and merciless as the wind outside. No room for mistakes. No second chances.
I adjusted the worn leather straps on my short bow, the rough grip scraping against my frost-numbed fingers. My hunting knife hung heavy at my hip, the only other weapon I carried. No magic. No miracles. Just cold steel, sharper instincts, and stubborn will.
Red snorted softly beneath me, muscles tense but steady despite the storm's growing rage. Wise padded silently at my side, his silver fur thick against the cold, his eyes sharp and alert.
The sky darkened with thick clouds, the sun swallowed whole by a blanket of gray. Shadows crept over the snow and pine, swallowing the landscape in a suffocating gloom.
Ahead, I spotted the jagged firebone stones — black volcanic rock frozen in ancient time, scattered like broken bones across the frozen earth. If I could reach that shelter before the storm hit its peak, maybe I'd last longer. Maybe.
The first flakes of snow began to fall, cold and sharp enough to sting exposed skin. They danced and twirled in the wind, each one a tiny assassin riding the blizzard's fury.
[System Message: Trial Start — Endurance 100%. Hunger 0%. Hypothermia risk low.]
[Hint: Seek shelter to conserve energy. Food and fire will be scarce.]
I forced myself to breathe slow, despite the burning in my lungs. Each breath was a razor cutting through frost. My muscles screamed to stop — to give up and find a rock to die behind — but I pushed harder, urging Red forward through frozen grass and brittle pines.
The cold gnawed deeper with every passing hour. My scarf was soaked through, frozen stiff against my jaw. My boots squelched inside, the melting snow seeping in to soak my socks. Fingers and toes were numb pins and needles, pain and numbness dancing a cruel duet.
I found no dry firewood, only brittle twigs damp with ice. Every time I tried striking my flint, the snow swallowed the spark before it could even catch. I'd tried twice already. Once more would just waste strength.
Wise circled a nearby bush, growling softly. He sniffed the snow, then moved on. No game here. Everything with sense had hidden or died.
I passed a half-eaten carcass of a steppe hare—frozen solid and torn in half by something much larger. My stomach twisted. Not from hunger—yet—but from the quiet message it left behind:
You are not the only hunter here.
Night fell faster than expected.
The sky dimmed to a dull steel gray, and then to shadow. I finally reached the jagged firebone stones—black rock streaked with white veins like frozen lightning. I guided Red into the hollow beneath the largest slab and unpacked what little I had: dried jerky, water in a leather pouch, my blanket.
There was no fire. No tent. No shelter beyond the stone.
Just the cold and us.
I crouched down, tucking the blanket around myself and Wise. Red lowered her body close and stayed still, offering what little warmth she could. I took a slow sip of the water—half frozen—and chewed a bite of jerky until it warmed enough to swallow.
[System Message: Hunger 12%. Hydration stable. Hypothermia risk rising. Endurance 88%.]
I clenched my fists and opened my System fully, hoping for clarity.
[System Interface Activated]
Name: Alto
Level: 7
Strength: 65
Endurance: 70
Agility: 75
Willpower: 80
Survival Skill: 68
Cold Resistance: 40
Hunger: 35%
Hypothermia Risk: Medium
Trial Progress: Night One — Ongoing
Objective: Survive and endure.
Not bad. Not good. I'd felt strong back in the village—faster than most, tougher than some—but out here, numbers meant nothing if your fingers froze off.
A new System alert pulsed in red.
[Threat Detected]
Name: Frostfang
Tier: A
Description: Apex predator of the steppe-taiga blizzard. Fast, cunning, with frost-infused attacks. Avoid direct confrontation if possible.
My blood went cold.
The Frostfang. The name alone carried weight like a war drum. Not a natural wolf. Not even a spirit beast. Something in between. Born from ancient cold and the broken oaths of this land.
I had heard of it once—from the old riders who spoke around firelight. A thing with breath that froze blood and claws that sliced through hide like butter.
And now it was here.
I tightened my grip on my knife.
[System Hint: Frostfang detected within 700 meters. Remain hidden. Do not provoke.]
Too late. I could hear its footsteps—light, soft, deceptively quiet in the snow. Wise's ears flattened. He bared his fangs but didn't growl. Even he knew the odds.
The wind shifted, and I saw it.
Eyes like shards of blue fire gleamed between the trees.
It didn't charge. It didn't roar. It just watched.
It knew.
I pressed my back against the firebone slab, heart hammering. My breath fogged the air, loud as a shout in the silence.
Then—
The eyes vanished.
Gone, like mist in the wind.
[System Message: Frostfang departed. Distance: 1.1 km and increasing. Temporary safety window detected.]
I exhaled slowly. My legs nearly gave out.
I'd survived Day One's first taste.
But the storm wasn't over. And the true hunt hadn't begun yet.
[System Update: Passive Skill Unlocked — Cold Breath of the Wind]
Description: Your body begins to adapt to extreme cold. Reduces Hypothermia gain by 10%. Allows brief function below freezing.
Good.
I'd need every edge I could get.
Day One was far from done.
And tomorrow might not offer mercy.