Chapter 274 - Major Interlude - Iona - Sigrun III (Patreon)

It took Iona ten days, moving at high speed, to get from Maral down to the frozen arctic wastes of Modu.

Iona passed numerous tribes as she traveled, sharing a quick meal with some, spending the night with others, and being mistrustfully thrown out of more. The gnolls in those tribes were convinced that Iona was there to steal from them, either their food or their companions.

Iona had basic wilderness survival knowledge, but took every chance to learn from the local gnolls how to best survive the harsh, cold conditions.

In spite of it being the height of summer, snow covered the ground as Iona moved into the tundra, then finally into the permafrost. She got in the habit of wearing her full armor at all times, which had the interesting effect of slowing her down.

Armor was hot and heavy, and between all the layers Iona had and the Mallium covering her, exerting herself too hard risked overheating if she kept going at high intensity for too long.

Iona paused when her feet hit ice for the first time, with the ground disappearing into endless white in front of her.

The frost giants claimed all that which was covered by ice. Iona still wasn’t a fan of Immortals, although she supposed the Treaty of Kyowa disallowed most Immortals in mortal lands - not the reverse. Mortals were tolerated in Immortal lands, as long as they didn’t screw up some Immortal's thousand-year plan.

Or accidentally chop down some tree that was being groomed for its descendent to have the exact right shade of wood for a sculptor, or some other crazy Immortal scheme.

A number of Immortals even liked having a mortal workforce around, although none would ever reach a position of power. Immortals were also known to visit the Maple Orphanages now and then, and recruit a hundred kids for some task or another.

Training up a smith to have a very specific skill was a bit hit or miss. Training a hundred smiths wasn’t that much more expensive, and made the odds of success significantly higher. Orphans needed a place to go, and all in all it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Mostly.

Iona had severe doubts that it was all that benevolent, although Maples was well-funded from former kids who’d made their way in the world.

She chewed on her lip, refusing to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, Immortals could do some good. Sometimes. Even if by accident.

Figuring there was nothing to be gained by just standing in an open field, Iona took the first step into Modu.

It was anticlimactic. Just a soft crunch as Iona’s weight crashed through the thin ice. She put one step in front of the next, slowly ascending the polar cap of ice. Applying her will to the Mallium, Iona changed her boots, adding spikes to keep her stable on the ice.

Life rapidly withered away, choked under the smothering layers of frozen water. Iona was unsure how anything could survive out here.

Yet, as time passed and Iona’s rations dwindled, signs of life she saw indeed. Snowgrass thrived in the environment, the plant having figured out how to survive the harsh conditions when nothing else could. The pet project of an Immortal [Botanist] thousands of years ago, still thriving to this day.

It formed the foundation of the grand food web that gave life to the inhospitable environment. Elk, mice, rabbits, and more grazed on the grasses, foxes and ice wyrms preyed on them, and the circle of life continued.

Iona stayed well clear of any signs of civilization. The ice giants liked their castles made of ice, built large enough to accommodate them while throwing blinding light all over. Iona even saw a few in the distance, deep blue flesh glancing out from white furs as the giants went about their daily lives.

Iona carefully avoided killing anything, instead acting more like a scavenger, or a vulture. When a pack of wolves brought down an elk, Iona brazenly waltzed over. The wolves growled at her, and she growled back.

One of them lunged for her, and she casually backhanded it. She put enough force in the blow to show that she was serious, but not so much as to harm the wolf. It would’ve defeated the purpose of avoiding killing.

After all, if the elk was some prized specimen of a frost giant, it wasn’t Iona who had killed it. It was the wolves, nature itself.

Most of the pack circled her, investigating this strange, bipedal, metal-clad monster that had intruded upon them. Iona stood up tall, showing off her size and attempting to assert dominance, then slowly walked towards the carcass.

Two stragglers were busy chowing down on the elk, determined to get their fill before the rest of the pack made a decision.

The wolves snapped and barked at her, but were unwilling to engage in a life-or-death fight. The two gluttons scattered away from the elk’s body as Iona arrived. She grabbed her trusty axe, and with three sharp swings, liberated half the ribs.

Iona took her prize and left, the wolves descending upon the remains like… well, wolves.

Iona spent time traveling. Following the elk, seeing the southern lights. Encountering rare and fantastical plants.

Seeing the Reverse Glacier. A gigantic block of slowly moving ice, that reflected the reverse.

A beautiful field of summer flowers, with the moons up in the night sky reflected in the glacier. Iona was reflected as an elf, wearing cotton robes with dark hair. Her axe turned into a quill, and her fingers were stained with ink.

A strange, magical place. The value of seeing what one magical object thought was the opposite?

Questionable. Not exactly worth a full journey on its own, but if it was on the way, well…

A few days later, she encountered the great lake. Somehow, the vast expanse of water wasn’t frozen, in spite of being on a bed of ice a mile thick, and was the second source of life in the arctic.

Iona had only learned of most of the animals recently because of Florence’s Friends. Seals and walruses lounged on the shores of the lake, while penguins waddled in herds.

If Iona was going to find a polar bear, this would be the place.

First was shelter. While the summer wasn’t supposed to have the vicious storms that plagued the area the rest of the year, it never hurt to have a bolt-hole. Reshaping her Mallium, Iona created a crude ice pick and shovel, and got to work.

After securing her shelter - and stocking it with the well-preserved body of a walrus, who’d died to injuries sustained in a fight for dominance - Iona went wandering.

She tracked penguins up until the point they dove into the water. She watched the seals play, their energy infectious. Wolverines slunk around, hunting hares, and lean big cats hunted, keeping herds healthy by preying on the slow, the weak, and the sick.

Iona was warm in her armor, but she knew if she got wet, if she fell into the water, she’d be in serious trouble. Not only would the water steal her heat, not only were there creatures in the water that occasionally caused mass exoduses, but there was a risk of everything just freezing.

Iona was strong.

She wasn’t stronger than Gaia, than Mother Nature herself, and refused to pit herself against the elements that way.

There was no night, not during the summer. Iona was sensitive to the needs of her body - all the better to ignore them in a fight - and slept in her little hidey hole when she thought it was appropriate. She could go for days on end without rest, thanks to her training, stats, and most importantly [Strength from the Stars], but why marathon needlessly?

Iona spent far too long getting breakfast together. The walrus was frozen solid, which perfectly preserved it and made it safe to eat, even if Iona had no vitality. However, it was frozen solid, and Iona didn’t have an easy way to thaw it.

She did it the hard way. Cutting off a piece, and chewing on it until that bite thawed, then moving on.

Iona had her fill, then carefully exited.

There was a new crowd in the area, a herd of woolly rhinos. Iona climbed to the top of a small hill, to better see and not be in the way of the creatures.

Iona was all too aware that they were wild beasts. They could turn on her in a second.

Not an exact temperament fit, but Alruna had bonded with a triceratops. It wasn’t like temperament was the end all be all. The idea of a woolly rhino was tugging on Iona’s heartstrings. She’d spent years around Alruna’s triceratops, and her death at Valkyrie’s End was a harsh blow to her mentor, and Iona. A woolly rhino was close in some respects, and far away enough in others. Both had strong natural armor that the Valkyries could augment. Both were herbivorous quadrupeds, with a business front.

Iona had gotten the vast majority of her training on Trikey, and most of it would transfer over.

Yeah, a woolly rhino would work well. Iona thought she might even go for one of the rhinos here and now, her divine blessing giving her a perfect look at the creature’s stats and skills, and letting her easily determine which creatures were the cream of the crop.

The beasts didn’t look like they were going anywhere in a hurry.

She darted back to her hidey-hole, grabbed her notebook, and headed back to her outpost. She went back to scanning the woolly rhinos, taking extensive notes.

Iona already had two candidates among the younger rhinos. One caster, and the second had unusually high stats for its level, indicating high-quality classes.

Iona was writing down the details of what she’d seen. A shadow crossed the sun, and Iona looked up after finishing the word she was writing.

Too late.

With a deafening cry that scattered the animals present, a wyvern landed with enough force to crack the mile-thick ice, partially landing on Iona.

Iona jumped out of the way at the last moment, but didn’t quite make it. The wyvern’s hind legs slammed down on Iona’s lower left leg, utterly crushing and pulverising it.

Her head slammed into the powdery snow, almost instantly cracking itself on the ice underneath and dazing her.

The wyvern blasted the woolly rhinos with a frost beam, hitting an arbitrary member of the herd and freezing it solid as the rest of the beasts scattered. The wyvern’s claws closed around Iona, cracking bones and cutting Iona open as it sheared through her armor like it wasn’t there. The wyvern hopped forward, grabbing the frozen beast with its other foot, then taking off once again.

Iona was only still alive thanks to her ever-present armor, reinforced by [Celestial Armaments], and her [Stellar Body]-boosted vitality. Otherwise, instead of being dazed and concussed, Iona’s head would’ve split open like a watermelon.

Iona rapidly got her bearings back, but they were already in the air, the wyvern flying back to her nest.

Iona liked her chances dropping from the absurd heights the wyvern flew at. The alternative was getting to the monster’s nest. Her arms were pinned against her side, but with a clever flick, she dislodged her axe from where it rested on her hip, the enchantments on the weapon snapping it to her hand.

She didn’t immediately attack the wyvern, no. She peeked at its levels, stats, and skills, looking for weaknesses to exploit, or conditional skills to avoid.

A weaker woman would’ve given up then.

Level 1045.

Ice. Mirror. Dark. All three elements were leaning towards magic and mage skills, the wyvern trusting in its own innate body and power to handle physical problems, and skills and magic to cover everything else.

The Ice let the ice wyvern live in the harsh climate, gave her a powerful breath attack, and let it half-merge into snowstorms. The Mirror protected her, reinforcing her scales against harm and reflecting attacks back, along with granting small empowerments. [You are what you eat] looked to be an absurd skill. Her Dark element both gave her some small measure of disguise, along with empowering her teeth and claws, and cutting through wind and air to fly faster.

The only odd skill was [Titanic Appetite], at only level 40.

Titanic Appetite: You greedy wanna-be dragon you! Devouring all that you see, from the moment you hatched until now, nothing can stop or sate you. You’ve got a bad habit of eating your prey as quickly as possible, and sometimes, they fight back! Take this skill, and turn your stomach into an inescapable cage, making any damage dealt to you appear on your still-struggling food instead. Increased activation time after eating per level.

Iona was doomed.

There was no point in struggling. The wyvern was too strong.

There was no point in not struggling. It wasn’t like the wyvern wouldn’t kill and eat Iona.

Wrapped in the monster’s claws, Iona tried to hack at the talons holding her. The angle was bad, and it was the wyvern’s claws. Innately powerful and tough, before skills and stats reinforced them.

Iona tried to use [Moon’s Twilight], flickering the skill on and off to change her weight, hoping to destabilize the monster and fall out.

She liked her chances in surviving from a fall, versus single combat against the wyvern.

The wyvern didn’t even notice her attempts. It was casually carrying an entire woolly rhino next to her. Iona’s weight, even amplified, didn’t come close.

Iona was still in her armor. After looking at how she was being held, she tried to get her armor to “push” her out, leaving the armor behind as she tried to “slide” out of the wyvern’s grasp.

The wyvern noticed that, and flexed its claws a little tighter.

From her point of view.

From Iona’s? The air exploded out of her lungs as she was ruthlessly crushed, a talon casually piercing her skill-reinforced armor and digging deep into her hip.

A trail of blood trickled out of Iona, falling and freezing on its way to the ground. Bloody hail, marking her path.

Iona struggled to breathe, but got nowhere against the wyvern. Darkness encroached on her vision, the world turning to a single point.

Then Iona was falling, gasping for air, but with still enough presence of mind to activate [Snowflake Drift] and [Celestial Armaments].

She hit the ground, instinctively trying to roll to bleed the speed. Her leg, crushed by the wyvern landing then mauled by its claws, failed Iona entirely and she collapsed on the ice.

Reforming her Mallium armor to work as a brace, Iona scrambled back to her feet. As she formed a shield to go with her axe, she saw that she was in the wyvern’s nest, high upon a mountain. Frozen bones were scattered about, and a number of eggs were covered in a light layer of snow.

The wyvern landed heavily in front of Iona.

She screamed defiance at the beast, raising her axe for one last mortal battle. Determined to go down fighting. Determined to get in at least one solid blow on the wyvern.

The wyvern eyed Iona, and in one sharp snap of her toothy mouth, ate Iona whole.

For Iona, the world went from the too-bright of sun reflecting unhindered off of snow, to the dark, warm mass of the wyvern’s mouth. The wyvern bit down, and all the parts of Iona that were outside of her jaws - everything from the knees down, and her left hand - got chomped off as the wyvern swallowed, compressing Iona as she went down the hatch.

She held onto her trusty axe, trying to dig it into the wyvern, trying to use it as an ice pick to stop her descent down the esophagus.

The blade bounced off the powerful muscles that were squeezing Iona, forcing her down, and instead a long, bloody, vertical gash appeared on Iona’s neck.

With a splash, Iona was launched head-first in pitch darkness into a burning pool, the Valkyrie getting an intimate look at how wyvern digestion worked.

The acid burned, getting through the small cracks and chinks in Iona’s armor. Fortunately, it was “merely” concentrated, natural digestive acids, and not something deadlier.

Iona managed to hold what little breath she had left though.

Iona flipped herself around in the pool, then pushed off the bottom. Her stumps screamed in protest, and Iona found that the stomach acid formed a deeper pool than what she could “stand” in.

It was a moot point. There wasn’t any air to breathe in the stomach anyways, and suffocation would get Iona before the stomach acid dissolved her.

The wyvern’s belly was home to total darkness. There wasn’t the smallest mote of light that a skill or vitality could amplify, letting Iona see what was going on. She had to rely purely on touch, and that particular sense was currently going “AHHHH I'M BEING MELTED ALIVE!!!”

Iona was reminded of the [Titanic Appetite] skill that she’d seen. If she tried lashing out, she’d simply harm herself, instead of doing anything to the wyvern. Her throat was a reminder of that.

No, Iona needed to find another way out. She used her axe to feel along the edges of the stomach, both below the acid dissolving her flesh and above.

She was surrounded by powerful walls of flesh. A tight ring of muscles was at the bottom of the stomach, the esophagus was closed above her, and there was a deep, barely-scabbed over wound along one wall. The same injury, Iona speculated, that got the wyvern the [Titanic Appetite] skill.

Up was impossible, and Iona would die of suffocation before getting digested and pooped out, even if she could somehow get to the next part.

Iona stayed calm, even as a primal part of her was starting to panic. She came to a realization.

[Titanic Appetite] was a low-level skill. It acted on a time basis.

She must’ve been down long enough by now, right? Iona didn’t have the time to make small, careful, experimental cuts.

She took a mighty swing at the already-existing injury, blanching as a deep cut opened along her own belly, acid finding a new injury to pour into and burn her from the inside.

Iona tried to have patience, but the urgency of the situation had her swinging again.

Not quite as powerful. Iona’s efforts were rewarded with a shallow slice across her stomach.

She spent a moment sending a quick prayer off to her goddesses, finding the activity soothing and relaxing, along with taking up time.

Just what she needed.

Selene. Lunaris.

I’m dead. See you soon.

The goddesses finally spoke back, after the long silence since the solstice. Their voices were weak and far-off, like they’d run a marathon and were exhausted.

You got this.

Fight!

Iona felt strength fill her. Not from the goddesses, nothing so divine. Just in the sheer belief and support from someone close to her.

Iona was missing her left hand, but she used Mallium to make a crude substitute, letting her wield her axe in a two-handed grip.

Her lungs were burning, screaming for air. Iona exhaled a hair, to relieve the pain, but didn’t dare inhale. It’d just make it worse.

She sank down to the bottom of the stomach, acid closing over her head, then once she hit the bottom she flexed her hip. Iona erupted up out of the acid, like some ambush predator.

A third time her axe came down on the barely-healed injury, this time breaking through and opening it up.

Iona went into a mad frenzy, chopping and hacking against the tough, powerful muscles, breaking open arteries and hacking through connective tissue. She pushed herself forward, letting the flesh close around her as acid trickled in behind her. It ate the wyvern’s flesh just as readily as Iona’s.

She could tell the wyvern was in discomfort and pain, and that she was making headway. The entire world flipped and spun around Iona as she continued hacking away.

In five hacks she was at the heart - not that Iona could see it. She just knew whatever she was slicing at next was moving furiously.

She hit it with her axe until it stopped moving. She kept going, pushing through flesh and hacking anything she could reach as her empty lungs screamed for something, anything.

The feedback she got from her axe changed, Iona clearly cutting through something else as black spots impossibly swam in her sightless eyes.

[*ding!* Congratulations! You’ve slain a [Frost Wyvern (Ice,1045)]//[Frost Wyvern (Dark, 893)]//[Frost Wyvern (Mirror, 832 )]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [The Dusk Valkyrie] has leveled up to level 435->513! +20 Free Stats, +60 Strength, +60 Dexterity, +60 Speed, +100 Vitality, +20 Mana, +80 Mana Regen, +10 Magic power, +10 Magic Control from your Class per level! +1 Free Stat for being Human per level! +1 Mana, +1 Mana Regen from your Element per level!]

[*ding!* Congratulations! For reaching level 512, you’ve unlocked your third class!]

[*ding!* You’ve unlocked [Adult of Pallos - Earth]!]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Adult of Pallos] has leveled up to level 1->8!]

Iona ignored the rest of her notifications, including her Ice class level ups. Normally she’d be thrilled that she’d reached level 512, and gotten her third class. It was the great dividing line that marked her as an elite.

Iona was a bit busy staying alive.

The wyvern was dead. The fleshy cavern Iona was in was just that - pure flesh. As the wyvern died, all of its vitality passively boosting it, all of its strength vanished. Iona tore through the body like tissue paper, gasping in relief as she burst through its lungs, and got a breath of air.

Stale air, but air.

From there, Iona tried to hack her way out. It was simple enough until she reached the ribcage. The monster’s sturdy bones resisted all of Iona’s efforts to break them, and she was reminded that wyvern bones were some of the strongest materials in existence. She’d only managed to get through the scales because Iona was taking them apart from the inside. She managed to slice a hole to outside, breathing her fill of the crisp cold air.

It took some time to hack herself out. Finally, coated in blood and gore, great billows of steam from the heat meeting the cold, Iona emerged from the carcass.

Iona collapsed. Exhaustion threatened to overcome her and make her pass out and sleep. She resisted the pull, knowing that if she slept coated in liquid in the freezing environment, that she’d never wake up again.

She dragged herself to her - well, not her feet - the stubs where her legs ended, and drank the blood pouring out of the wyvern. It was pooling in a small depression. She sliced a piece off for herself, and ate it, feeling the unnatural warmth spread through her.

The frost wyvern, for all it lived in a freezing environment with Ice classes, had run hot. Its blood was near boiling, and enough of it poured out to form a proper liquid pool, briefly mimicking a hot pool.

Iona was freezing “standing up”, the harsh winds on the mountain peak stealing away all her heat. She sank into the literal bloodbath, figuring the problem of “how to get out of here” and “how to dry myself” would be better handled while warm.

She was already soaked. Getting soaked again wouldn’t change a thing.

Dragons were the god’s greatest creation, bar none. The gods had experimented many, many times, trying all manner of different creatures, iterating on their designs before hitting the perfect formula for the grandest of all monsters.

Wyverns were a half-step below dragons. They were almost there. Not quite. They shared quite a few properties though.

Like, for example, their blood. Bathing in wyvern’s blood wasn’t the same as bathing in dragon’s blood, and it was a horrendous waste of precious material. [Merchants], [Traders], and [Hunters] would have conniptions if they saw how the blood was being used, let alone the rest of the body being left there.

Bathing in wyvern’s blood made the body innately tougher. It didn’t touch the System, it didn’t grant vitality or anything. It just made the body more.

It was a waste, considering what else wyvern’s blood could be used for. Crsytalized, it made for weak mana storage, like Arcanite. It couldn’t hold mana in the same space to mana ratio, but it was possible to get more wyvern’s blood, as opposed to Arcanite. Used as ink, inscriptions and enchantments would take millennium to wear away, even without self-repair portions included. That was before the hundreds of potions and elixirs that called for it as an ingredient, or the weapons improved by quenching them in the precious substance during their forging.

Sadly, [Princess]-detection was reserved solely for dragon’s blood.

The other thing wyvern’s blood did when bathed in was help slightly with the recipient’s connection to the wyvern’s own elements. Luckily, the creature Iona had slain was Ice-aligned, promising her future class-ups with the element would be just a tad stronger.

A single scale flaked off of the frost wyvern’s body, landing right over Iona’s heart. Covering that spot so no more blood reached it.

Iona considered leaving it there. She didn’t know about wyvern’s blood, and she was exhausted. To her, it was simply a warm place to briefly recuperate and think.

The scale offended her sensibilities though, and she absent-mindedly picked it off.

Iona was dying. She had no legs. She had one hand. She had dozens of broken bones, countless strains and tears, her body was one gigantic bruise, and that was before the deep lacerations that criss-crossed her body, or the repeated dunking in acid she’d just undergone.

Slowly, but Black Crow was watching her, taking one hop at a time closer to her. Ready for when she inevitably succumbed to the combination of the environment and her injuries.

Iona needed every last edge she could manage. Any little bit that could help her survive. She allocated every single free stat she had.

She wasn’t at a temple, but the place would have to do. She leaned her head back on the edge of the blood pool, changing her armor around to act as additional supports for herself.

She closed her eyes, and entered into the world of her soul.

“Fast. Best class for me?” Iona asked her guide the moment she arrived. She expected a weak, weak healer class - she’d get in all sorts of trouble long term for it, but she’d be alive enough to GET in trouble - or some sort of wilderness survival class. Something like [Wounded Warrior of the Modu Wastes].

Her guide was her, and knew everything that was going on. Iona had complete faith in her guide’s ability to pick the right class for her. With a snap of her fingers, they arrived at an altar.

“Here.” She gestured.

Iona didn’t waste a moment, getting down on her knees to pray. Still, she noted a dozen details, even as she started her class selection.

The braziers were burning blue. The moons were etched into the relief above the altar, and a pair of familiar statues flanked the place of worship.

Iona opened her eyes to a string of notifications.

[*ding!* Congratulations! You’ve upgraded your third class - [Paladin of the Moons] - Gravity]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Paladin of the Moons] has leveled up to level 8->30! +50 Strength, +50 Dexterity, +50 Speed, +80 Vitality, +40 Mana, +40 Mana Regen, +100 Magic power, +100 Magic Control from your Class per level! +1 Free Stat for being Human per level! +1 Mana, +1 Vitality from your Element per level!]

She couldn’t believe it. The goddesses had chosen her to be their [Paladin].

At the same time, she could. Rare was the individual who’d been blessed by their gods, who didn’t get offered a class related to it.

Iona closed her eyes, sending off a quick prayer of thanks.

Lunaris. Selene.

Thank you. I will repay your trust.

She didn’t have much more to say, simply sending warm feelings their way.

She spent half a second looking at her new class. Gravity element, and it looked to be a spellsword. She’d need to use her magic just as much as her physical prowess.

There was another notification waiting for her, obtained while she was in the world of her soul.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Ice Affinity] has upgraded to [Ice Authority]!]

Iona lifted her head up, intending to get out of the pool. She was rudely jerked back down, as her blood-soaked hair had frozen solid to the cold ice below.

In the moment she’d rested her head against the ice, her blood-drenched hair had frozen solid to the ice. With a roar, Iona ripped herself from the ice. She then twisted around, and crawling, using her arms to move the rest of her body, dragging her stumps behind her, she hauled herself out of the pool.

Or tried to at least. Blood on ice was one of the slipperiest combinations possible, and Iona was hurt. She didn’t have a good grip, or good leverage. With a splash, she slid back into the bloodbath.

The most valuable skill Iona had immediately unlocked was [Telekinesis]. The ability to use her meager magic power and mana to move objects around.

Well, meager for her level. Significant for the tasks she needed to perform.

Iona reformed her Mallium to act as a claw-ice pick combo, and with a scream, slammed it into the bloody ice. Using [Telekinesis] on the rest of her armor, she gave herself a minor lift, negating gravity’s pull on her just a bit. Roughly a quarter of her weight.

It was enough. She was able to drag herself out of the blood as her mana pool rapidly drained. She accepted the notification that was presented to her.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Snowflake Drift] has moved from [Traveling Archer] to [Paladin of the Moons] and turned into [Flight of the Valkyries]!]

Iona got to work.

The wyvern’s body represented a large fortune. Iona couldn’t carry out even a fraction, and was more concerned with survival. Her legs still ended at her knees, and she was still one-handed.

With some effort, she got her Mallium to rearrange itself, making crude prosthetics. They didn’t work well, and they cooled rapidly, transmitting the cold directly to Iona’s bones. Every step, every move with them sent pain lancing through her, [Chilled Mind] taking the edge off.

They also thinned her armor to the point where it was nearly worthless, and forget about forming a shield. The only value Iona’s armor had at this point was to be a basis for [Celestial Armaments], which could reinforce it.

Iona was forced to move slowly. Her collection of injuries was impressive, and she found herself using her newfound Gravity skills more and more to make simple, mundane things happen.

Shelter was the first task. She used the wyvern’s body, where it lay, along with the natural formation of the nest as the start of a shelter. Hacking off one of the wyvern’s wings let Iona encase the area entirely, keeping the elements off of her.

It also kept the heat in, roiling waves of heat coming off of the wyvern’s spilled blood. The arctic conditions were trying to freeze it, but for now it was a source of warmth.

However, it wouldn’t be able to warm Iona forever. Nor would the flesh that she cut off and ate raw stay warm the entire way back home, even if she could, by some divine miracle, carry it all.

No, she’d need her armor to keep her warm, and she didn’t have enough of it. Not enough to walk on prosthetics and keep the heat in.

Iona improvised.

Using her hand and [Telekinesis], she ripped scales off the wyvern’s body, then carefully placed it on her armor. She reformed her Mallium around each piece, the wyvern scales giving bulk to the armor, along with being fantastic protection and insulation themselves.

Piece by piece Iona reformed her protection. With the basics secured - food, shelter, water from melting ice and a plan to not immediately freeze to death, Iona took a much-needed rest.

====

She was woken up by the sound of breaking eggs. She got up with a start, and moved as quickly as she could over.

Her hundreds of injuries were slowing her down. She moved too quickly, and the gashes on her stomach opened up, Iona’s bright red blood mixing with the wyvern’s blue. Every inch of her skin screamed, protesting any movements after having been bathed in acid, after having been digested and corroded away. Her hip didn’t work properly, and that was before her crude prosthetics were causing problems.

The eggs were hatching.

The first snout broke through the egg, but Iona had no mercy. She wasn’t going to pit herself against more wyverns. She wasn’t going to let the monsters grow up to become larger threats one day.

She wasn’t going to let them all hatch, then outnumber her thirteen to one. She was too weak.

The first and last thing the baby wyvern saw was Iona’s axe descending upon its head.

One by one Iona smashed the eggs, smothering the wyverns before they even had a chance.

Iona got to the last egg right as the baby finished fully hatching. She raised her axe up high, then hesitated. Seeing something in the baby’s eyes.

Her heart wavered, then softened, a plan rapidly forming.

One baby wyvern was manageable. She didn’t think it’d successfully kill her, not with Iona’s stats and levels.

Iona was also a dead woman walking. She was deep in the frozen wastes of Modu, on top of a mountain. A mountain that a wyvern lived on, one among many. She had an entire mountain range to traverse, then she needed to cross the entire frozen wasteland of Modu while crippled, hoping that one injury or another of hers didn’t finish her off, or attract predators that sensed weakness.

With no food. She could only carry so much of the wyvern’s meat, and that was on top of needing to climb and scale cliffs one handed, no-footed, while carrying the food.

In other words. A dead woman who hadn’t stopped moving yet.

The wyvern was looking around, already demonstrating signs of unusual intelligence.

Iona saw hope and promise in the wyvern’s eyes.

She could bond with it.

Protect it.

It would let Iona’s [Vow] kick in, giving her a gigantic edge against the threats that roamed, while having a partner that radiated threat, who could sense other creatures in the wilderness. Whose very nature could drive off problems.

Iona quickly hacked off a piece of the infant wyvern she’d just killed, then extended it to the newly hatched one. The last remaining wyvern.

It sniffed at Iona’s hand, then snapped, devouring its sibling without a shred of remorse. Iona hacked a piece of leg off of the dead wyvern who’d almost killed her. The mother of all the eggs here.

The baby wyvern ate the meat without a shred of complaint, looking at Iona with measuring, hungry eyes. Recognizing Iona as a source, a giver, of food. Wanting more.

“Fenrir.” Iona whispered, petting the wyvern. “Your name shall be Fenrir.”

[Name: Iona]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 22]

[Mana: 129880/129880]

[Mana Regen: 70,026]

Stats

[Free Stats: 0]

[Strength: 23,980 +(291,357)]

[Dexterity: 23,980 +(291,357)]

[Vitality: 40,612 +(105,591)]

[Speed: 26,095 +(317,054)]

[Mana: 12,988]

[Mana Regeneration: 31,544]

[Magic Power: 10,451]

[Magic Control: 10,451]

[Class 1: [The Dusk Valkyrie - Celestial: Lv 520]]

[Celestial Affinity: 508]

[New Moon's Dance: 488]

[Weapon Mastery: 475]

[Strength from the Stars: 520]

[Celestial Armaments: 520]

[: ]

[Stellar Body: 520]

[Gaze of the Galaxy: 420]

[Class 2: [Traveling Archer - Ice: Lv 370]]

[Ice Authority: 370]

[Shortbow Skills: 365]

[Blizzard Shot: 360]

[Chilled Mind: 370]

[Trick Shot: 357]

[Ice Arrow Conjuration: 358]

[Glacial Slow: 370]

[: ]

[Class 3: Paladin of the Moons - Gravity: Lv 30]]

[Gravity Affinity: 15]

[Telekinesis: 30]

[Lunaris's Gaze: 2]

[Lunar Mass: 30]

[Flight of the Valkyries: 30]

[Eclipse Strike: 1]

[Selene's Grace: 1]

[Harmony of the Spheres: 1]

General Skills

[Drawing: 190]

[Valkyries Valor: 520]

[Adaptable: 366]

[Tracking: 244]

[Vow of Iona to Lux: 405]

[Magnetic Charm: 190]

[Comprehensive Education: 282]

[Dinosaur Husbandry: 290]

Other

Blessing of Selene and Lunaris