Blue light washed over the room, accompanied by a wave of bitter cold that quickly began to spread frost over the ground, shelves, and equipment.
Atrox expected an attack to come at them next, but nothing happened except the light flaring and then dulling, flaring and dulling again.
Without saying anything, they began to walk toward the source of the light, doing their best not to make too much noise. The light grew brighter the closer they got, and the trail of solid blood thickened. Atrox readied his sword as they finally walked around the workbench and saw what was causing the light.
It was the Yeti—a dead Yeti. It was almost unrecognizable, its body torn into bloody, burnt rags, its torso completely gone, and its chest shattered.
But the monster had frozen all its wounds almost solid and then dragged itself here with its remaining mangled hand.