A Hunt Between Ice Spikes

The storm thickened as the hunting party trudged through the snow, their breath forming ragged clouds in the frigid air. The wind howled like a starving beast, carrying distant howls that sent shivers down the spine of even the most hardened hunters. 

Arthur glanced at Adora, who walked beside him, her sword resting on her shoulder with a relaxed—but ready—stance. "So, remind me again why we're playing weak?" 

Adora sighed. "Because if we go all out, we'll draw attention. The last thing we need is to stand out before we even understand this place." 

Arthur smirked. "Right, right. Blend in. Act helpless. Play nice." 

"That last part might be impossible for you," she muttered. 

A gruff voice cut through the banter. "Hey, rookies!" It was Hela, the veteran hunter, giving them a side-eye as she adjusted her fur-lined cloak. "You better not freeze up when we actually face the Ice Elves. They don't hesitate." 

Arthur put on his best "nervous rookie" expression. "Oh, I don't know, Hela. I'm just a humble traveler who's barely swung a sword. What even is an Ice Elf? Do they throw icicles?" 

Hela rolled her eyes. "Just don't die. Makes my job easier." 

Nobu, leading the group, suddenly raised a fist, signaling a halt. Everyone dropped into a crouch, weapons drawn. The air felt heavier now—charged with an unnatural stillness. 

"They're close," Nobu whispered. "Watch for movement. They like to ambush from the frozen mist." 

A sharp whistle cut through the wind, followed by a chilling roar. Then, without warning, the first attack struck. 

An arrow of crystallized ice shot through the darkness, burying itself in the chest of one of the younger hunters. He let out a strangled gasp before collapsing into the snow. Dead in an instant. 

"Damn it! They're here!" Hela shouted while forming a tight defensive triangle with eight of the hunters. Arthur and Adora stood at the rear. 

Shadows flitted between the ice spikes—tall and slender figures with skin like pale frost, their icy weapons shimmering in the dim light. Then came the wolves, massive beasts with blue-tinted fur and eyes that glowed like dying embers. 

Arthur and Adora exchanged a glance. 

"Time to act weak?" Arthur asked. 

"For now," Adora confirmed. 

The battlefield erupted into chaos. Hunters clashed with Ice Elves, steel meeting frost-forged weapons. The wolves weaved between them, striking fast and retreating just as quickly. Arthur ducked beneath a swing from an elf's jagged blade, stumbling backward to keep up his act. 

"Whoa—almost got me there!" he called, flailing exaggeratedly before "clumsily" parrying another strike. 

Adora, meanwhile, did her best impression of someone struggling, purposely making her movements look slightly sluggish. She took a hit to her shoulder—not enough to wound, but enough to sell the illusion. 

One of the hunters, a man named Rorik, fended off three elves at once, one of them a warrior. He had to be an experienced hunter, his swings skillful yet desperate. "Cover me!" he yelled. 

Arthur, seeing an opportunity when no one was looking, threw the Wolf Fang dagger with unimaginable speed into the fray. It struck one of the elves in the throat, dropping them instantly. 

But then— 

Rorik cried out as an Ice Elf warrior's spear found his stomach. He staggered back, blood dripping into the snow, steam rising where the warmth met the cold. He collapsed, gasping, trying to hold his wound together. 

Nobu cursed. "Damn it! Fall back!" 

Arthur was completely expressionless. He had seen people die in the streets nearly every day. It was normal. He wasn't scared to kill or be killed. Still, he wanted to save Rorik, but doing so would expose him and Adora. They had to keep up appearances. He would have liked to have Rorik's strength by his side. 

As the Ice Elves sensed their advantage, they pressed forward. The hunters, outnumbered and exhausted, began retreating. 

"Arthur, Adora! Move!" Nobu barked. 

They obeyed, falling back with the others as the elves did not pursue. They had won this battle. 

Rorik's body lay motionless in the snow, another casualty of the endless war against the frozen creatures of the tundra. 

The hunting party returned to the Outskirts, the weight of their loss pressing on them like the cold itself. The settlement buzzed with an unusual tension. 

As they approached, a group of hunters ran to them. "You're back!" one of them panted. "You missed it—a monster ambush hit the town!" 

Nobu tensed. "How bad?" 

"We fought them off," the man said, "but that was just a scouting force. A massive wave is coming tonight. If we don't prepare... we won't survive." 

Silence settled over the group. 

Arthur and Adora exchanged glances, their earlier act of weakness forgotten. 

The entire Outskirts buzzed with frantic energy. Hunters reinforced barricades, sharpened weapons, and rationed what little resources they had. Arthur and Adora, despite being "newcomers," threw themselves into preparations. 

"If they attack in numbers, we need choke points," Adora said, examining the town layout. "The main roads are too open. We should funnel them into the alleyways." 

Arthur nodded. "Fire traps would help. Ice monsters won't handle flames well." 

Nobu approached, overhearing. "You two seem to know a lot about battle tactics for a couple of greenhorns." 

Arthur grinned. "Beginner's luck?" 

Nobu didn't look convinced but let it go. "We'll take positions on the rooftops. Archers and spear-throwers need elevation. The rest will hold the barricades. The town's main gate won't hold for long, so we have to kill as many as possible before they break through." 

Adora cracked her knuckles. "Sounds fun." 

As night fell, Arthur and Adora climbed atop one of the taller buildings, giving them a clear view of the frozen horizon. The first stars barely peeked through the heavy clouds, and the wind carried an unnatural silence. 

Then they saw it. 

A massive horde of Monsters. Ice Elves in the hundreds, wolves prowling beside them, their growls carrying through the night. But worse—far worse—were the Ice Bears, towering beasts with claws like spears, their breaths creating clouds of frost that lingered in the air. Their biggest strength was the force that lay behind every movement they made. 

Arthur let out a low whistle. "Well... that's a lot of bad news." 

Adora's eyes glowed faintly. "Hope these people are ready." 

And with that, the wave of monsters approached, their steps shaking the frozen ground, the battle for survival looming over the Outskirts like a storm. 

It will soon turn into a bloody battlefield, which exactly was Arthurs Domain...