Where Are We?

Ethan laughed at himself.

Maybe it was bearable to be here? What an absurd thought. The cold bit into his bones, each breath was like a frozen dagger stabbing his lungs. The environment was more pleasant than the scorching desert, sure, but it was still a kind of hell. A freezing, cruel, and treacherous hell.

And to make it worse, he was fighting.

His feet sank into the snow as he dodged sharp claws. The creatures were small, the size of a ten-year-old child, but their fangs dripped venom, and their black nails looked like they were made of iron. Their pale skin had the texture of rotting flesh, and their eyes… those eyes didn't blink. They showed no emotion, only an endless hunger to kill.

The snow imps, as the Sorcerer had called them, were fast and relentless.

Ethan didn't know how he was still alive. His reflexes were sharper than usual, dodging at the last second from every lunge. But he knew the truth.

Luck. A lot of luck.

He leapt to the side as a claw slashed the air where his face had been just a second earlier. His heart pounded in his chest.

— "Is this training?!" — he shouted, rolling in the snow to avoid another attack.

From atop a nearby rock, the Sorcerer laughed hysterically.

— "Of course, boy! You need to learn to survive. I could help you, but… where's the fun in that?"

Ethan gritted his teeth.

He pulled out the Sling of Possibilities, picking up a small stone from the ground and fitting it into the leather strap. He pulled, felt the wood pulse slightly in his hands, and fired.

In the air, the stone ignited.

A huge ball of flames roared through the sky, shooting toward one of the snow imps. The creature dodged at the last moment, but its companion wasn't so lucky. The impact flung the creature against a tree with a sickening crack.

The tree remained intact. The snow around didn't even melt.

But the imp was burned, its melted flesh sticking to the wood. Its claws twisted in spasms, and from its gaping mouth came a guttural sound, almost human… almost.

The other imp didn't even glance at its burned partner.

Ethan started to realize something. These corrupted beings… they showed no empathy. They didn't seem to feel anything beyond the urge for destruction.

He crouched down and grabbed some snow, quickly molding it in his palm before firing it with the sling.

The projectile transformed mid-air, expanding into a translucent bubble.

The imp collided with it and was immediately trapped, suffocating inside the orb. Its body thrashed frantically, claws scratching the surface without success.

The other imp—the burned one—let out a horrible scream.

The sound was like a spear piercing through Ethan's brain.

His balance spiraled into chaos, his vision blurred. He felt his mind spinning, his muscles losing strength. Everything seemed to collapse in the blink of an eye.

But then, a laugh echoed in his mind.

The Sorcerer's laughter.

That damn cackle pierced through his unconsciousness like an electric current, yanking him out of the vertigo. Ethan regained his balance at the last second and threw himself to the side, narrowly dodging the claws of the burned imp.

His heart still raced, but he had to react.

He tried to grab more snow, but the imp had learned. It wouldn't give him time to prepare another attack.

Great. Now I'm cornered.

His feet slid on the accumulated snow until his back hit a tree. The imp paused for a moment, realizing its advantage.

Its black eyes gleamed.

A monstrous grin tore across its melted face.

Ethan swallowed hard.

The imp lunged.

But Ethan was ready.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone. He pulled the sling at the last second and fired.

The stone flew normally.

No glow, no magic. Just an ordinary little rock.

The imp didn't even flinch when it hit its chest. The impact caused no damage.

But that wasn't the plan.

Ethan threw himself to the side, intentionally tripping over an exposed root. His body fell into the snow as the imp, still mid-attack, crashed headfirst into the tree behind him.

The impact made its hand explode into fragments of flesh and bone.

Ethan didn't waste time.

He pulled the sling and fired.

The projectile exploded against the burned imp, and in an instant, the creature turned to ash.

He lay in the snow for a moment, breathing heavily, trying to calm his racing heart.

Then, the Sorcerer's voice echoed again.

— "Congratulations, Ethan! You're becoming quite the hero!"

A deafening laugh followed.

Ethan felt his patience snap.

He stood up, panting, and pointed a finger at the lunatic.

— "Why the hell didn't you help me?! You just stood there watching while I almost died!"

The Sorcerer tilted his head.

His mask shifted.

From an expression of euphoria to one of… irony.

— "My dear Ethan, I can't use my powers so freely. They're… incongruent."

Ethan frowned.

— "What does that mean?"

The Sorcerer raised a finger and pointed at the sling.

— "Take your simple weapon. Multiply its possibilities by infinity. Now imagine the side effects."

Ethan felt a chill down his spine.

— "So, you have power but no control?"

— "Control? Oh, I have control! It's just that… when I use my gifts, sometimes the world doesn't like it."

He laughed, shaking his head.

— "But anyway, now that the danger's over, we can continue our adventure."

Before Ethan could reply, something unexpected happened.

From the Sorcerer's cauldron, which had been sitting quietly, something shot out.

A chained book.

It twisted in the air and sped away, floating at high speed.

The Sorcerer's eyes widened, and he shouted.

— "DON'T LET IT ESCAPE! IT COULD UNLEASH CALAMITIES!"

His tone was desperate.

Ethan, in a rare moment of petty revenge, just crossed his arms and smiled.

— "Oh, what a shame. If only someone could freely use their powers to catch it, huh?"

The Sorcerer turned to him, the mask shifting into an expression of pure comical rage.

— "Boy…"

The cauldron began to bubble.

From inside it, something emerged.

A white crow.

The Sorcerer's eyes sparkled with joy.

— "Quick, White! Get that book before it releases what's inside!"

The white crow shot through the sky, chasing after the runaway book.

Ethan just stood there, watching it all, incredulous.

The Sorcerer turned back to him, clapping his hands together.

— "Now, let's continue. White should be able to handle it."

Ethan sighed, rubbing his face.

— "Continue to where?"

The Sorcerer paused.

— "To what used to be a village."

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

— "There are villages in this world? I thought there were only ruins."

— "Exactly! And this is a ruin too! But a promising ruin."

And then Ethan saw it.

In the distance, nestled between the snowy mountains, was the silhouette of ancient, crumbling buildings, reminding Ethan of Norse architecture.

An abandoned village.