31. Avalanche

31. Avalanche

The winds on the mountain picked up, the blistering cold finally getting to him. With the little mana he had left he managed to use the body tempering art but he was running on reserve at best. The snow had become thick making it hard for him to move at a steady pace.

Eryndor was now taking in short gasps of air from time to time, his lungs stretched beyond their limit. Eryndor was not sure why but the air was getting thinner, his vision was becoming blurred. As he raced further up the snowy mountain world he took a shufti behind him to make sure he was not still chased by the pack of hungry white fur mountain wolves. His hopes of living beyond the night was dashed as he sighted the pack of seven charging at him in a coordinated formation.

Under intense pain both from his sore muscles and his weakened lungs he crues out in fear. "Dammit! How do I get rid of these damn dogs." If only he had more mana he would have torched the place, he thought to himself. Everything he had left was used to keep him warm.

The feeling of being alone was more frightening than he expected, knowing that the only person you could rely on was yourself.

"Hey, shitty master why don't you do something already? Do you want to see me dead!" He cried even louder.

A moment later he tumbled over the head of a huge black rock that was once a boulder that had been devoured by the unforgiving snow. He grunted as his body lost all power and fell face flat into the snow.

Eryndor winced in pain, he could hardly feel a thing in his hands, they were frozen. The small kitchen knife that had been his only source of defence was now gone, lost in his battle with the dreaded whute fur mountain wolf.

Just then the voice of the left eye spoke to him in a very serious tone:

["Listen up kid, if I was to interfere with the mana I have stored your body would be blown to bits. If you can not defeat such low level beasts then it is much better you give up on your dreams and die.

I can find an even better disciple"]

Eryndor was not sure if those words were meant to goad him into doing something irrational and they worked. He hated himself to being so weak again, he hated the old him more than anything. That was the reason why he was here, that was the reason why he was running.

Feeling a new sense of morality he climbed to his feet and ignored his freezing lungs, he was already high up the mountain. He could see the top of the vast oak tree forest, he could see the other mountain tops at the distance, some were familiar landmarks he had gone past on his way there. The view from the top of the world took his breath away, Eryndor slapped himself to reset his focus.

His eyes scanned the areas at the base of the mountain, it did not take long for him to see a small orange glow at the distance below. The light coming from the cottage told him he was a long way from reaching safety, the chances of outrunning the beasts was questionable. At least he knew which way to be doing his running.

Eryndor's head sparked with a mad idea and he welcomed it with confidence. Instead of running away from the pack of beasts he ran to them, it was a very foolish approach to his problem considering he had no chance initially if ever outrunning them. Still he persisted, giving a great battle cry that rang out more as a child's wail.

This cause of action caused the wolf pack to come to a halt, even they were amazed by the fact that their prey had become fast food coming to their tummies. They started to spread out, their pace exercising caution.

Eryndor continued to screamed wildly, in his mind he cried to whatever god or god's that existed in the world to come to his aid. That whatever primordial force that had chosen him, a degenerate to inherit the will of the crescent prince should show him mercy just once in his damn life.

His left eye beamed brighter and brighter, as if hearing his cries the mountain shook violently, roaring in accordance to his command. Eryndor did not stop, he continued to shout like a madman. The rumbling increased and he knew exactly what was coming to him.

Perhaps it was a miracle that his pitiful cries were able to cause an avalanche, Eryndor was never one to believe in miracles but in that moment he believed they were real. The beds of snow came down in folds and grew bigger and bigger, the force becoming strong enough to topple the mighty oak trees and send the mighty boulders tumbling down.

Eryndor held a mad grin on his face, it was madness but it was his mad plan. The wolves seemed to hesitated as they weighed their choices on whether or not to pursue him, but this was all still within Eryndor's expectation.

Just within a few yards of them the turned in the direction of the cottage and ran at full speed, initially he was not running at top form to give the false impression that he was on his last lap. The pack of white fur mountain wolves jumped back in shock at this sudden development but the young prince was still not done.

As he curved he dug his hands into his bag and took out the container holding his dinner, head initially kept it there in case he got hungry but now it would be a good deterrent to his hungry pursuers. With a fling of his hand he sent the container flying with its lid open, the serving of stewed meat releasing an aroma too enticing for the wolves to dismiss.

Eryndor did not look back, instead he pushed himself much harder and sprinted down the mountain in the direction of the cottage. The beasts behind him fought for the meal and scavenger it as fast as they could before turning in his direction but it was already too late the avalanche was already upon them all.