"Well, okay then."

Arteus turned to Ava, his eyes meeting hers, and in that brief moment, a silent understanding passed between them. The gravity of the situation was not lost on either of them.

The yetis were not the mindless beasts they had faced before; these were cunning, coordinated, and driven by a hunger that went beyond the natural order. They knew that their survival depended on their ability to outwit these monsters, and, escape the village before the full weight of the colony descended upon them.

Though, it should be said, that escape was barely an option for these two powerhouses.

Without a word, they sprang into action. Arteus took off towards the north, his axe ablaze, leaving a fiery trail in the snow behind him. Ava, on the other hand, headed south, her icy form a blur as she sprinted away from the town hall. Their plan was simple yet fraught with risk: split the pack and lead them away from each other, and take them down in isolation.

As Arteus ran though, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The feeling that something was royally amiss grew stronger with each passing second, gnawing at the edges of his mind like a pack of hungry rats. His eyes darted from side to side, searching for any sign of danger that didn't come in the form of yeti.

Yet, the streets remained eerily silent, save for the crunch of his boots on the frozen ground and the distant howls that grew louder with each passing moment.

The yeti corpse in the cellar... just how had the villagers of Qliax, a measly bunch much like those in Barley, managed to slay such a creature?

Arteus pondered over this grisly puzzle as he sprinted through the frozen streets.

He glanced over his shoulder, the sight of Ava's retreating form on his periphery. She left a trail of ice in her wake as a disturbing thought begun to weave it's way into his mind.

The bodies they had found in the town hall of Qliax had not been torn apart by the ravenous jaws of a beast—they had been drained of their blood like a wine bottle left to the last drop by a thirsty drunk. The yeti corpse in the cellar had been an oddity, but the human bodies? They had been violated in a manner that spoke of something much more sinister, a methodical and deliberate act that didn't align with the savagery of the yetis they had encountered thus far.

And even now, as they faced off with the yeti, the damage that came to Qliax was on a much grander scale than when they first arrived. That, and the signs of haste and panic they came across when first they entered the village, hinted at Qliax falling to a much more different fate than the ravenous beasts of the tundra.

What did it all mean?

Hold that thought... Arteus felt the cold bite of the ground as he slid through the snow, his body moving with a liquid grace that seemed at odds with the panic that gripped his heart. The yeti's claw swiped through the air where he had been standing just a moment before, sending up a spray of ice and frost that stung his face. He rolled to his feet, the cold ground burning through his clothes, and brought the axe around in a wide arc. The creature's eyes narrowed, and it took a step back, as if reassessing the threat before it.

With the beast taking a moment to reassess it's life's decisions, Arteus took a deep breath, his eyes flickering with a mischievous glint. He focused on the frozen ground beneath him, his hand dropping to the earth as if feeling for a lost coin. The air around them grew tense, charged with a primal energy that was as unpredictable as it was powerful.

With a sudden snap, the ground erupted in a spray of snow and ice. A platform of frozen earth shot up from the ground with the precision of a conjurer's trick, propelling Arteus into the air. His body was a blur of motion as he ascended, his eyes never leaving the yeti's face. The creature roared in anger, but it was too late. Arteus had become a meteor of vengeance, a fiery blade hurtling towards the beast's skull.

The axe was a crimson streak as it met the yeti's eye, the force of the impact causing the creature's head to jerk back with a sickening squelch. The beast's howl of agony was cut short as the blade lodged itself deep within the socket, sending a spray of blood and gore across the pristine snow. The yeti staggered back, its massive frame reeling from the unexpected blow. It clawed at its face, trying to dislodge the burning metal that had invaded its very essence.

But Arteus was not one to show mercy. With a roar that was more beast than man, he leaped from the dying creature's shoulder to the next, his boots crunching into the frozen flesh like a mountain climber's spikes into ice. The yeti beneath him roared in surprise and pain, its legs buckling under the sudden weight. But Arteus was swift, he pulled his axe from its eye with a sumptuous squelch.

And jumped, his body a fiery comet against the white sky, the axe in his hand a beacon of destruction. The yeti below tried to swipe at him, but it was too slow. Too cumbersome. Arteus' boots left the creature's shoulder with the grace of a dancer, and for a moment, he was suspended in midair, the axe poised over the beast's head like the hand of man descending upon a hopeless mosquito.

He brought the axe down with a force that could shake the heavens themselves, the blunt side of the weapon aimed at the creature's skull with the precision of an executioner's blade. The yeti, in its last moments of consciousness, had no time to react, no chance to defend against the thunderous boom that resonated through the very air of Qliax. The impact was so great that the ground trembled.

The sound of the axe meeting flesh was a cacophony of bone and sinew, a symphony of destruction that seemed to echo through the very fabric of reality itself.

The yeti collapsed beneath Arteus' combined weight and fury, its once mighty frame crumpling like the crumbs of a toasty loaf of bread. The creature's final, agonized roar was cut short as Arteus plummeted with it, the axe still lodged firmly in its skull. The impact sent a shockwave through the beast's body, shaking the very ground they stood upon. The creature's limbs convulsed in a last, desperate attempt to dislodge its assailant, but it was a futile struggle.

"Tch," Arteus exclaimed wiping the blood off his forehead when suddenly he felt the ground vanish from beneath him.

Another yeti had grabbed him just as he was taking a breather, its massive paw closing around his midriff with the ease of a giant hand crushing a snowball. Before he had time to blink, he was airborne, the world around him spinning into a whirlwind of snow and shadow. He felt the wind rush past his face, the cold air biting at his skin as he hurtled through the air like a meteor.

Arteus crashed and landed, crash-landed, through the roof of a church with a sound like a meteor's impact. The wooden beams in the ceiling snapping like dry twigs beneath the sheer force of the throw....

...He lay there, sprawled out like a starfish on a beach, the planks of the roof raining down around him in a comedic cascade of splinters and dust. For a moment, the only sound was the echo of their descent, a series of plunks and thuds that seemed to mock the gravity of the situation.

Arteus stretched awkwardly as he tried to regain his footing, when his eyes met a peculiar sight.

Through the dust and the debris of the ruined church, there sat a figure, perched on the seat reserved for the high priest surrounded by vines and... are those... dead snakes?

"Ah..." The figure's eyes, pure crimson in colour, met his own as her golden locks sprawled the length of her small body on the seat.

"...Hi."

-To Be Continued-