Ice to Meet You!

I stared at the parchment on the counter, my fingers tapping against the aged wooden surface as Thrum Firebeard grinned at me from across the shop.

The deal was simple: in exchange for a 75% discount on all gear, I bring him back some fancy amulet from an extremely deadly local boss. Kill Elsa, bring back a pretty necklace, and get a bunch of awesome loot on the cheap, or as cheap as this con artist. The only part that concerned me, was how powerful this big bad was? Was I just marching to my death?

"Ye seem like the risky type, lad," Thrum chuckled, his thick arms crossing over his filth-stained apron. "But that's the beauty of it. You're a gambler, aye? Roll the dice. Take the discount. If ye win, ye walk away stronger. If ye lose…" He shrugged. "Well, it won't matter much to ye, now will it? Besides, you can keep everything else you find, so it's not like you wont leave that place with a mountain of loot anyway."

I exhaled through my nose, weighing the decision. Why was I hesitating? It was just a game. I'd played plenty of hardcore survival MMORPGs before. If I failed, I would try again. If I killed the guy the first time, I would be that much further ahead. Regardless I needed to gain some levels, get some loot, do whatever it took to get stronger so that these other players might think twice before challenging me. Plus, I was in it to win it, and that meant short cuts, and this short cut was too tempting to passup. 

Still, something about Thrum's confident smirk unsettled me. He had the look of a merchant who knew he'd already won before his customer even realized it. I smirked back, grabbed the quill, and signed my name with a flourish.

"Done."

Thrum barked a hearty laugh, clapping a broad hand on the counter. "Aye, now that's the spirit! Welcome to the real game, lad." He rolled up the parchment and tucked it beneath the counter, then gestured to the rows of equipment. "Now, what'll it be?"

I quickly scanned the inventory, my eyes honing in on what I needed. The new discount made everything suddenly more accessible, and I wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

I picked out:

A pair of reinforced bracers, designed to offer additional protection without sacrificing mobility.

Weighted throwing daggers, enchanted with minor auto-retrieval on a successful kill.

Shadow-weave leggings, which enhanced my stealth at night.

A modest bundle of healing potions, because I wasn't about to rely on luck.

A utility belt with extra pouches, perfect for keeping my gear within reach.

"Ah, now we're talking," Thrum muttered as he stacked my purchases on the counter. "That discount's working wonders for ye, eh?"

I grinned. "Feels like cheating."

"Nay, lad." The dwarf leaned in slightly, his grin sharp beneath the smoldering embers of his beard. "It only feels like cheating 'til ye lose."

I scoffed but grabbed the gear, equipping each piece swiftly. My HUD updated, my agility got a solid boost, and my inventory weight balanced out with the utility belt. Everything felt… right. Better than right. I was gearing up like a pro, and soon, the Ice Mage would be nothing but another stepping stone.

As I turned to leave, Thrum's voice stopped me.

"Just one more thing, lad." His tone was lighter now, almost amused. "Ye ever wonder what happens after death?"

I paused, glancing back over my shoulder. "No point in wondering. I'll respawn, right?"

Thrum just smiled, slow and knowing. "Aye. Guess we'll find out."

I stepped out of the armory, my new gear snug against my body. The air in Frostfall was sharp, the cold biting at my exposed skin, but it didn't bother me much. I had what I needed. The Ice Mage's fortress loomed in the distance, a jagged black silhouette against the snow-covered mountains.

I flexed my fingers, my new daggers balanced comfortably in my hands. I had no doubts. I was stronger, faster, and better prepared than ever before.

Time to put this world to the test.

The next stop was Alchemist's Brew, a shop tucked between two larger buildings in Frostfall's bustling market square. A battered wooden sign swung lazily above the entrance, depicting a bubbling cauldron with wisps of steam curling into the frigid air.

I pushed open the door, and the scent of burnt herbs, something vaguely sulfuric, and an oddly floral undertone assaulted my nose. The interior was cramped, filled with shelves of vials, jars, and dried plants hanging from the ceiling. A small counter sat at the back, and behind it, a wiry old man with beady eyes and a grin that said he knew something I didn't regarded me like I was a particularly interesting specimen.

"You're here for potions," the man said before I could even open my mouth.

I hesitated. "Uh, yeah. How'd you—?"

"Boy, I know exactly what kind of trouble you're looking for," he interrupted, his voice like dry parchment rustling in the wind. "You reek of reckless ambition. Means you need something to keep you standing when that confidence runs out."

I smirked, crossing my arms. "I don't plan on letting it run out. Just need a little insurance."

The old man chuckled, pulling a glass bottle filled with swirling red liquid from behind the counter and setting it down in front of me. "Healing potion. You drink too much at once, and you'll feel the burn in your veins—this isn't just some numbers on a screen, boy. Your body will remember."

My fingers twitched over the bottle. The way he said it—it was too immersive. Too real. I knew this was a hardcore game, but something about Elias' tone made the hairs on my neck stand up.

Still, I wasn't about to get spooked by good roleplaying. "I'll take three," I said, dropping the coins onto the counter.

Elias scooped them up and slid two additional vials toward me. "Take these too," he murmured. "One's for stamina, the other for resistance. Might help keep you from freezing solid before you even reach that Ice Mage."

I pocketed them, nodding. "Appreciate it."

As I turned to leave, Elias called after me. "Remember, boy—potions can patch you up, but they won't make you invincible. You're still made of flesh and bone."

I waved over my shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine."

Stepping back into the cold, I let out a slow breath, watching it mist in the air. Another errand down, another piece of preparation locked in place. Now all that was left was heading toward the Ice Mage's fortress.

And if I did feel a little uneasy about Elias' words?

Well. That was just good immersion.

Leaving the village behind, I started my journey toward the Ice Mage's fortress. The path ahead was nothing short of brutal—jagged ice-covered rocks, swirling gusts of wind that felt like frozen daggers against my skin, and a near-constant flurry of snow that blanketed everything in an unrelenting white haze.

My agility helped me cut through the terrain quickly, but even with my boosted stats, the cold seeped into my bones. It wasn't just a debuff; it was real. My fingers stiffened around the hilts of my daggers, and every breath came out in heavy, labored mist. The Frostfall region wasn't just another game environment—it was actively trying to kill me.

Fine. Let's see who lasts longer.

I kept pushing forward, my focus locked on the distant black spires of the Ice Mage's fortress. It stood like a frozen monolith, jutting out from the landscape with jagged peaks of unnatural ice. If intimidation had a physical form, this was it.

Halfway up a ridge, movement caught my eye.

A group of four adventurers was gathered near the mouth of a cave, huddled together. They were in rough shape—worn armor, frostbitten skin, and expressions that bordered on absolute terror. Unlike the usual bandits or opportunistic killers I'd run into before, they didn't look like they wanted a fight.

As I approached, one of them, a lanky guy with a wizard's robe tattered beyond recognition, raised a hand. "You don't want to go up there."

I stopped a few paces away, my breath forming clouds in the frigid air. "Yeah? And why's that?"

"The Ice Mage," another one, a warrior with a cracked pauldron, muttered. "He's not like the others. You don't beat him. You can't beat him."

I smirked, shifting my weight onto one foot. "Sounds like a skill issue."

The warrior narrowed his eyes but didn't take the bait. Instead, the only female in the group, a rogue with a face half-hidden beneath a scarf, leaned forward. "Why are you even doing this?" she asked, her voice carrying a genuine sense of disbelief. "You could just leave. Find a different region. There's still time."

I blinked. For a split second, something about her tone made my stomach twist, like an off-note in an otherwise perfect song.

Then I laughed. "Great NPC dialogue. You almost had me."

She didn't laugh. None of them did.

Instead, the rogue shook her head, as if I was already dead.

I gave them a two-fingered salute and kept moving.

Behind me, I could still hear them whispering.

"He doesn't get it."

"He will."

I didn't look back.

The cold was unrelenting. Every step toward the Ice Mage's fortress felt like trudging through an endless tundra of misery. Even with my boosted agility, frost clung to my armor, my breath came in labored gasps, and my fingers were dangerously close to going numb. But none of it mattered. This was all just another hurdle before the real fight.

The path up the mountain narrowed into a twisting, icy corridor, the wind howling through the pass like a chorus of wailing spirits. My instincts screamed at me—this was the perfect ambush point.

And sure enough, the first wave came.

A dozen ice wraiths slithered out from the walls of ice, their spectral forms flickering in and out of sight. They moved like shadows in a storm, wisps of frozen energy, their hollow eyes locked onto me.

[Enemy Identified: Frost Wraith - Level 12]

"Holy shit, level 12?" I spoke aloud before my gamer greed got the best of me. "If I could take out these guys, the boss would be that much easier," I sneered as I grasped my blades and readied for combat. 

The first wraith lunged, and I sidestepped, slashing through its body with Shadowfang. The blade sliced clean, sending an eruption of blue mist into the air. But instead of dissipating, the mist coiled back together, reforming the wraith before my eyes.

"Oh. That's new."

A second wraith attacked, this time from behind. I twisted just in time to parry, but its spectral claws still raked across my arm. My HUD flashed red—the attack didn't deal direct damage, but it sapped stamina. So that's how they wanted to play it. To tire me out so I die to the environment? Fair enough.

A flurry of quick strikes tore through the wraiths, agility over brute force. Every time they reformed, I cut them down again, pushing forward, refusing to let them recover. Their movements became slower, sloppier—they weren't invincible, they were just stubborn.

Finally, the last one fell, its misty form fading into nothingness. My HUD pinged.

[Level Up: 5 to 6... 6 to 7]

+8 Skill Points Available.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. "Not bad for a warm-up." But before I could gloat the real enemies arrived.

The ice cracked beneath me as hulking Golems of pure frost erupted—each the size of a warhorse—pulled themselves free from the frozen ground. Their bodies were slabs of enchanted permafrost, jagged and reinforced with veins of crystalline ice. Their fists alone were bigger than my torso.

[Enemy Identified: Frost Golem - Level 18]

I barely had time to react before one of them swung a massive arm at me. I dodged—barely—and the impact shattered the ground where I had been standing.

"Alright. Maybe not just a warm-up."

I dashed between the golems, weaving in and out of their slow but devastating attacks. My daggers struck fast, carving slivers of frost from their forms, but it wasn't enough. They were tanks, built for endurance.

I needed more power.

[Skill Points Available: 8]

No time to hesitate.

+4 Agility – For faster dodging... I couldn't beat them if I died...

+4 Strength – Because I needed to hit harder, I couldn't beat them if they lived...

The moment I committed the points, I felt the change. My movements sharpened, each dodge felt more effortless, my strikes dug deeper into the ice.

I flipped up onto the shoulder of the nearest golem, driving both daggers into the weak points where ice met glowing blue veins. The creature shuddered, cracks forming in its chest.

[Critical Hit!]

I kicked off, flipping backward as the first golem collapsed into shattered ice.

The second one roared—a guttural sound like glaciers grinding together—and charged. I met it head-on, using my newfound speed to slip past its attack and carve deep into its leg. It stumbled, and I capitalized, delivering a spinning slash straight through its core, shattering it into frozen debris.

[Level Up: 6 to 7... 7 to 8...]

I grinned as the last shards of ice hit the ground. "Now we're getting somewhere."

The cold wind howled louder now, but not from the storm.

It was the fortress ahead, looming in the distance, the Ice Mage had to have felt what just happened, and I was coming for him next.