Ice Age (2)
“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Was I just supposed to lie down and die?
I had been aggressively slurping up Dimensional Power for dozens of minutes now, yet I hadn’t even absorbed half of the core before me. To make matters worse, there was an endless supply of these Dimension Stones scattered across the vicinity.
“[No, that’s not true. There is a way.]”
“There’s a way?”
“[Your realm... that is, you simply need to grow stronger. As your physical vessel ascends in power, you will be able to absorb far more Dimensional Power, and much faster. I guarantee it.]”
“How strong do I have to get to absorb all of these?”
“[......]”
Belba couldn’t bring herself to answer.
I waited through the heavy silence before throwing out another question.
“When will this Great Cataclysm happen?”
I couldn't afford to stop questioning. I had no intention of dying here. Absolutely none. Even if everything were doomed to collapse tomorrow, I would kick and claw just to survive. And true effort toward survival didn't mean shrieking in desperate abandon—it meant grasping the highest probability of success through meticulous planning.
“...Tell me the numbers and locations of the enemies nearby.”
Time to formulate a plan. I needed information—information that would let me struggle until the very end.
Growing slowly and steadily was out of the question. Only by sprinting forward at a breakneck, suicidal pace would I see even a sliver of hope.
“Kuuuugh, ooooh...”
I smashed a golem encrusted in thick rime with a heavy blunt weapon and immediately spun on my heel. A brilliant white spear was already rocketing toward my chest. Bringing my weapon around in a sharp arc, I shattered the projectile mid-air, tore through the spray of icy shrapnel, and planted a vicious low kick into the advancing golem's knee.
As the creature tumbled to the ground with its lower half pulverized, I brought my weapon down and crushed its skull to powder.
This was getting rough.
The monsters in this region actually knew how to craft weapons. They could align their ranks and form battle lines. Some even rode around on domesticated glacier dinosaurs. How in the world did this not qualify them as intelligent life?
“[...To think they've advanced this far.]”
If my hunch was right, the monsters here hadn't been this clever from the start. Nor was it possible that Belba had simply overlooked the nearby Dimension Stones. Before I arrived, she had been keeping watch over the entire world.
Granted, she didn't seem capable of monitoring every corner of the planet simultaneously; it was more accurate to say she had casually scanned the realm out of sheer boredom before my arrival. Even so, there had to be some correlation between the emergence of Dimension Stones and the monsters' sudden spike in intellect. It was still just a theory, but it made far too much sense.
“Die, dammit!”
Boom!
I roared and drove my fist forward. The point of impact flared brilliant white before erupting into a violent blast. It was the activation of Detonation, an ability I had claimed after slaughtering a three-meter-long bombardier beetle.
The bombardier beetles of this world didn't just spray boiling liquid—they hurled literal bombs. From where an anus ought to be, they would fire round red spheres in rapid succession, which detonated like high-grade explosives in less than a second. A truly nasty skill. It was the kind of attack you wanted to avoid at all costs.
When I first learned that I had acquired Detonation, my instinctive reaction had been to check my own backside. Because of that lingering sense of uncleanliness, I had refrained from using it until now. But against targets that resisted edged weapons, it proved absurdly effective. Damn it all.
“[My, how refreshing!]”
“It's disgusting!”
I already felt the urge to scrub my hands raw. Was this what they meant by great power bringing great responsibility? Was this what shaking hands with the devil felt like?
“[It truly was a shocking sight, wasn't it? That black aperture endlessly contracting and dilating, popping out those plump red pellets... pop, pop, pop...!]”
“Shut up! Stop describing it in unnecessary detail!”
Fortunately, the monsters’ baseline stats weren’t overwhelmingly high, so cutting through them wasn’t difficult. Even so, the skirmish left a foul taste in my mouth. It wasn't because of my vulgar ability, but because of how the creatures behaved.
What started as a mindless swarm had gradually shifted. They were keeping their distance now, attempting ranged combat by hurling ice spears. That meant they were revising their tactics based on combat data. In other words, they were capable of communication, and through communication, collective evolution.
Because they were golems, their ranged accuracy was abysmal, allowing me to close the gap and dismantle them with ease. Still... a creeping doubt began to take root.
How were they any different from humans? What was the distinction, really?
As my one-sided slaughter continued, several of them visibly attempted to flee. One individual stared at the shattered remains of its fallen comrade before charging at me with an enraged howl.
Fear. Wrath.
They clearly possessed distinct emotions. Yet the world claimed I was the sole intelligent being, while dismissing these creatures as mere monsters? Bullshit. None of it added up.
From this moment on, I decided not to view them as simple monsters. They were a primitive race—likely far smarter than the Australopithecus ancestors of humanity. Clever little snowmen. Even if the System and this world refused to acknowledge them as intelligent beings, their capacity for rapid adaptation posed a genuine threat to me. Overlooking that would land me in an early grave.
So I would treat them as a species armed with sufficient intellect. Not that acknowledging their minds would make my fists hesitate for a second.
My will to survive burned far too intensely for hesitation. And I was deeply, unapologetically selfish. When laid upon a scale, another's life and mine were nowhere near equal. If you threw this entire world onto the opposite side of the balance, my own life would still outweigh it.
[Whoa...]
That’s right, you overgrown snowmen. Take a good look.
Drop dead, every last one of you! And obediently become my stats!
Ripping off an arm from a shattered golem, I used it to cave in the skull of another. Watching them collapse under such crude, improvised strikes, I realized that this battlefield of flying snow and crushed ice no longer posed the slightest threat to me.
“Die, you discount Olafs!”
My body had completely adapted to the biting cold. By now, wearing a simple short-sleeved shirt was enough to maintain my normal body temperature, so that was exactly what I wore. Back on Earth, people would have dubbed me Iceman. A bit of a shame that the title didn't quite fit anymore. Ice Girl, perhaps?
Advancing past the snowy plains, I reached an endless expanse of sheet ice. Getting used to the footing took considerable effort.
Perhaps because I had been relentlessly teased over my name during childhood, I had never been particularly fond of the figure skater Kim Yuna. It wasn't her fault, but it couldn't be helped. Naturally, I had never stepped foot on an ice rink. I knew exactly what kind of relentless mockery would await me if I went skating with friends. The only slippery surfaces I had ever navigated were freshly mopped classroom floors and apartment stairwells in midwinter.
Only after tumbling roughly six times did I finally manage to find my footing.
“Oh—whoa, whoa! It worked! I’m gliding!”
It was genuinely fun. Coasting forward on sheer inertia had a way of clearing the tangled mess of thoughts cluttering my head. Sweat beaded along my brow as body heat radiated outward. Out of habit, I moved to tug off my shirt, but a sudden twinge of discomfort stopped me, and I left it on.
An empty, desolate world. The wind had finally died down, leaving nothing but profound silence across the colossal ice sheet as I skimmed its surface for a long, quiet while.
“...What in the world is that?”
“[It’s a Fire Fox. An intelligent species favored as pets across a great number of worlds.]”
“There's one right here. Why didn't you tell me?”
“[I have been quite busy lately, you know. Certainly better than having absolutely nothing to do like before... but I hardly have time to rest.]”
Good for you, really.
Nestled inside a snowdrift, a lone fox was trembling as quiet as a mouse. Its features were rather exotic, so I had wondered what it was, only to be told it was an intelligent being. Was it some kind of spiritual beast? Did it transform into a human when fully grown?
“[Most likely. While they usually perish before reaching that stage, Fire Foxes that live for several centuries are known to take on a form resembling their masters.]”
...So it really was a spiritual beast. From the description alone, it sounded remarkably similar to the mythical gumiho from back home. Did it eat livers and hearts too?
“[Hardly. Their staple diet consists of fruits such as peaches and bananas.]”
Setting questions aside, I scooped up the shivering fox and held it close. Its body, initially cold as an icicle, gradually warmed beneath my touch until, after a few minutes, it radiated heat like a crackling hearth. So that was why they called it a Fire Fox.
More importantly, why was something like this suddenly popping up out of nowhere? Could this also be the result of that Dimensional Power? That seemed the most plausible explanation. A bizarre new native creature was one thing, but the sudden manifestation of a species known to exist in entirely different dimensions was deeply suspicious.
Just then, the creature nestled against my chest began nuzzling affectionately, rubbing its cheek against me. At some point, it had opened its eyes and was staring intently up at my face.
Brilliant golden pupils. In fact, it had slight heterochromia—one eye was a vivid, luminous gold, while the other shone with a muted amber-orange. It was a detail you would only catch by looking closely.
“Hmm. Why are its ears so small? I heard foxes living in hot climates usually have large ears to dissipate body heat.”
“[Dissipating heat would defeat the purpose. They are a race inherently suited to blistering warmth.]”
“Fair enough.”
Gently flicking its dainty little ears, I felt a swell of tender emotion wash over me. Cuteness actually existed in this godforsaken world... Sure, the Belba floating in my imagination was quite adorable in her own right, but this was the very first visible cuteness I had encountered with my own eyes. I could almost weep.
“Phew.”
It had been a truly precious memory. Hopefully, we would cross paths again someday.
Giving the fox a polite parting nod, I tossed it straight back into the snowdrift.
“[WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING RIGHT NOW?!]”
“What?”
“[It’s a pet! It clearly recognized you as its master, so why on earth are you throwing it away?!]”
She clearly didn't understand how the world worked. I didn't know this fox yet, and an untrustworthy ally was infinitely more dangerous than an outright enemy.
“[Go pick it back up this instant! Once a Fire Fox chooses a master, it will never, ever betray them—it is an innate racial trait! Good grief, how could you be so cruel to such a pitiful little thing...?!]”
Swayed by Belba’s vehement protests, I hurried over and scooped the Fire Fox back out of the snow. With tears welling in the corners of its eyes, the creature hung limp in my hands, looking profoundly heartbroken. But after I spent several minutes offering frantic apologies and stroking its head, it quickly perked up and rubbed affectionately against my fingers once more.
I'm sorry, little fox. You know I didn't mean it, right?