Chapter 35 – Lines in the Snow

  The wind whipped through the frozen clearing, a haunting melody that danced among the remnants of stone and mounds of snow. The genuine peril of the north wasn’t merely its fearsome beasts—it was the profound stillness that often followed their presence.

  Under extraordinary circumstances, the mentors imparted valuable lessons on recovery during hunts, especially concerning the FrostBearer, a creature renowned as an apex predator known for its fierce territoriality. While this was ostensibly a routine training drill, Raven always carried a dimensional bag—a cherished relic of the War Rabbit Guild—allowing her to transport vast quantities of items with remarkable ease.

  With impressive precision, the War Rabbit Guild initiated the extraction process, having successfully secured the Frostbearer’s den ahead of schedule. Raven supervised as the dimensional bag shimmered open, eagerly enveloping the remains of the colossal creature: meat, fur, and its glacial mana core. Even in death, this magnificent beast would contribute to the welfare of Novastra.

  Suddenly, a shift in the snow drew their attention.

  “Damn…” Seven whispered.

  There, amidst the frost, a man stirred, wrapped in tattered leathers, his skin encrusted with frost like an old, forgotten relic. Steam spiraled from the freshly cauterized stump of his right arm, a testament to both suffering and survival.

  “Hold your positions,” Ripper commanded, raising a gloved hand to signal the recruits to remain alert.

  The recruits fell silent, their weapons drawn yet their resolve wavering.

  Slowly, Seven propped himself up, visibly exhausted but undeniably alive. As his lone eye blinked open, a spark of alarm surged through him, prompting him to scan the towering, bunny-eared warriors surrounding him. “Great, more giants…” he muttered, his instincts screaming at him: they’re too tall—too silent—too near.

  “Don’t touch me,” he rasped, his voice rough like shattered ice.

  Raven, though her crossbow remained lowered, kept her focus unbroken.

  With calm authority, Ripper stepped forward, hands raised in a gesture of peace. “Easy there, little human. We mean you no harm.”

  Seven, feeling an unexpected surge of defiance, stood, wobbling slightly but refusing to collapse. His wary gaze darted around the strange group, calculating their intentions. “Who are you calling little? Name’s Seven. And you... You’re rabbit people?”

  The squad blinked, momentarily taken aback.

  “Seriously?” Ripper replied, a mix of incredulity and concern etched on his face.

  Raven tilted her head. “You don’t know what a War Rabbit is?”

  Fluffy, ever the enthusiastic member of the team, perked up instantly. “We’re War Rabbits! Here in Novastra!” She proudly tapped her tail. “Ears and all, sugar!”

  Seven grunted in acknowledgment. “First time seeing one up close,” he admitted, drawing frowns from the others.

  “Where do you hail from, Seven?” Ripper inquired, his tone a blend of firmness and genuine curiosity.

  Choosing silence, Seven spat blood into the snow, the toll from his harrowing encounter with the FrostBearer evident in his pain—he suspected a few broken ribs amidst his injuries.

  Instead of answering, he instinctively shifted half a step back, his fingers grazing the strap of the Nameless Wing Rifle resting at his side.

  Ripper’s tone softened. “You’re injured, exhausted, and alone. That bear nearly took your life. You won’t last another night out here.”

  Raven continued with measured calmness, “We can get you to the city. You’ll find treatment, food, and shelter there.”

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  Narrowing his eye, Seven maintained his wariness. He had only recently arrived in this world and questioned their motives. “And what? I drop my guard and let you drag me to some unfamiliar city? Just leave me alone,” he shot back, his voice sharp like a finely honed blade. “I’ve learned the hard way what happens when you trust too easily.”

  Ripper’s voice grew serious. “This isn’t a discussion. Time is of the essence.”

  Seven tightened his grip around the rifle, his distrust evident. “I don’t place my faith in beings with ears bigger than their heads.”

  This remark drew an audible gasp from one of the newer recruits, while Fluffy instinctively cradled her cherished ears.

  Taking a deep breath, Ripper let out a slow exhale and delivered his command. “Bring him in. Gently.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hopper replied, advancing cautiously.

  That was all Seven needed to see.

  With urgency, he rolled and dashed behind a snow-covered stump.

  In an instant, his rifle was in his hands, aimed and ready.

  He squeezed the trigger—

  But the magical energy charged in the sigils along the barrel dimmed, failing to initiate the spell.

  “Back off,” he growled, holding his position with the empty barrel raised, determined to protect himself against these unfamiliar, oversized strangers.

  Combat – Controlled Chaos

  Fluffy was the first to make her move, her smile lighting up the atmosphere.

  In a flash, she adeptly sidestepped, gliding low across the snowy ground. Her foot swept under Seven’s stance, causing him to stumble, yet he managed to roll gracefully, landing on one knee with a determined glint in his eye.

  With a quick tactical adjustment, Seven lowered his rifle from its strap, drawing his M9 handgun, which was already poised for action.

  Fluffy’s rapid and unpredictable movements made it challenging for him to aim, especially as fatigue began to creep in.

  “She’s swift,” he muttered, acknowledging her agility.

  Around them, the recruits formed a loose circle, their hesitancy tempered by an air of readiness. Raven and Ripper, the tallest among them, stood back, allowing the recruits to tackle Seven. Raven quietly loaded a new bolt, recognizing that Seven could only handle so much information at once.

  Fluffy teased, “Don’t get distracted, little guy. Your opponent is right here!”

  With that, her twin short swords sprang to life, gleaming with promise.

  “Come on, tough guy! Let’s see what you’ve got!” she challenged, her enthusiasm infectious.

  Seven didn’t hesitate.

  Activating his Minor Enchanted Combat, red glitch sigils flickered along his limbs, empowering him even as exhaustion loomed. Mana pulsed within him.

  Rather than aiming, he relied on instinct, firing three shots with precision—non-lethal but undeniably direct. Thud! Thud! Thud! The shots struck armor, the recoil softened by magical enchantments. "Of course, modern weapons struggle against Giants wielding magic," he spat, a mix of frustration and admiration in his tone.

  One recruit, spotting an opening, attempted to flank Seven. Enhancing his leg speed, Seven swung his rifle like a club, leaping to match the height of the towering foe. He landed a solid blow across the recruit's neck, taking them down.

  “One down…” he muttered. “Four to go.”

  Fluffy’s laughter rang out, spinning her blades as she took in the excitement. “He’s got bite!”

  “Don’t underestimate him!” Raven cautioned, his voice firm. “This isn’t just sparring—he’s fighting for survival.”

  Ripper remained still, arms crossed, his gaze steady. “Let him burn it out,” he said, keenly observing the tremor in Seven’s legs and the flicker of strain in his neck. They noticed a faint glow of the number '07' on his neck, an unusual sight that hinted at his dwindling mana—a human marked with a number was a rarity indeed.

  Yet, despite it all, Seven pressed on.

  His breathing became ragged, his body weary.

  His balance wavered as he fought against a body that no longer had two arms.

  Gritting his teeth, he surged forward, fueled by sheer determination.

  Rifle as Melee – The Last Stand

  He wielded the Nameless Wing Rifle like a seasoned warrior brandishing a formidable weapon.

  His stance may not have been perfect, but the surge of strength propelled him forward.

  With a mighty swing, he struck.

  CLANG!

  The buttstock met a fellow scout’s polearm, sending sparks flying through the air. Seven held his ground but felt the force of Wells, the mighty rabbit, pushing him back. Brinley, the other war rabbit with oversized goggles, didn’t engage; instead, she keenly monitored his movements within the circle he was trapped in, a strategic game of cat and mouse.

  Suddenly, a bolt struck Seven’s back—Hopper’s shot—thudding against him. The enchanted arrow pierced shallowly, but the pain was undeniable.

  Gritting his teeth, Seven summoned his resolve.

  He turned sharply, delivering a hard shoulder charge that sent Wells sprawling, his strength amplified by the red glitch sigils. The impact was tremendous, yet he felt the recoil reverberate through him, challenging his limits.

  Two opponents down, but victory was fleeting.

  In a flash, Fluffy darted behind him—quick, fierce, and relentless.

  He pivoted, rifle raised—

  CLANG! Her blade clashed against his. He tried to parry her rapid strikes, but his fatigue began to show. He managed to block one, but the shock rattled through his arm.

  With a graceful retreat, she feigned a left jab.

  Seven instinctively tracked her, only to be caught off guard by her upward sweep that knocked him off balance.

  In a dazzling spin, Fluffy’s legs struck him, and with a cheeky declaration,

  “Gotcha!”

  FLIP.

  In an instant, Seven found himself upside down, pinned in the snow beneath her.

  Aftermath – A Strange Mercy

  Fluffy perched cheerfully on Seven's shoulders, her thighs snugly clasped just below his jawline. Though her blades were still unsheathed, she chose not to use them.

  Her eyes sparkled with delight as she giggled softly.

  “Oh, poor little human~ Did you really think you could take us all on?” She playfully patted his cheek. “Don’t worry. You almost had us!”

  Seven, barely conscious and unable to speak, finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

  With a bright smile, Fluffy exclaimed, “Guess he’s burnt out. Now, he’s all ours!”

  “Fluffy.” Ripper’s voice rang clear through the air.

  “Get off him,” he instructed.

  With a playful pout, she complied, gracefully hopping down and dusting the snow from her knees.

  Ripper knelt beside Seven. “He’s alive. For now,” he noted as he stood. “We need to secure him. No ropes—carry him. He’s drained.”

  Raven stepped forward thoughtfully. “That weapon—the rifle... It’s pre-war. An old military design, high-caliber.”

  Ripper nodded in understanding. “And he wields it instinctively.”

  Raven added, with quiet respect, “This wasn’t just a survivor’s fight; this was muscle memory at work.”

  “Take him to Novastra,” Ripper commanded. “And increase the watch. If one human like this made it out here, there could be more.”

  Raven affirmed with a curt nod. “I’ll scout ahead.”

  With that, she quickly disappeared into the snowy landscape.

  Fluffy heaved Seven over her shoulder, exclaiming, “Wow, he’s heavier than he looks! Are you sure this isn’t a cursed weapon?”

  “No,” Ripper replied, glancing back at the fallen Frostbearer den. “He’s something extraordinary.”