Chapter 68: The Counter of the Snow Maiden

It was a girl as white as snow. Not just her skin, but her hair and her clothes were a chilling, crystalline white. Only her eyes, a deep ink-black that seemed to swallow all light, stood out, lending her a bizarre and ghostly presence.

Snow Maiden. The name floating proudly next to her health bar was profoundly uncreative.

“Anyway, the fact that only one appeared must mean we’re nearing the end, right?”

As I muttered to myself, the girl thrust her right hand high into the air.

THOOM!

“Whoa!”

A heavy impact gouged a deep crater right next to my foot. A massive ball of snow, conjured instantly at her fingertips, had been aimed like a cannonball at my head. If I hadn’t dodged by instinct, it would have been an immediate Game Over.

Right. No need to worry about the next enemy yet. The most important thing was to annihilate the one in front of me. I readjusted my stance and scanned the Snow Maiden. A clear number 5 was floating above her health bar.

“What is this…”

KABOOM.

Another snow-cannonball grazed the side of my head. The tree it hit split with a deafening crack and toppled over. Cold sweat trickled down my spine.

Should I attack?

But even that wasn’t simple. A white blizzard swirled around her, a curtain of wind so dense and seamless that there wasn’t a single opening. Forget landing a blow; if I even got close, those razor-sharp icy winds would tear me apart.

While I racked my brain keeping my distance, I noticed the number above her health bar had dropped to 4.

“The number decreased.”

The Snow Maiden raised her hand again. Another sharp snow projectile flew my way, but by the third one, the timing was becoming predictable. I dodged lightly and checked the number. 3. It seemed the counter dropped by one every time she launched an attack.

So, what happens when it hits 0?

I didn’t know what change would occur, but in the worst-case scenario, it could be an instant-death move. According to Sephiroth, this game didn’t technically have “instant-death” skills, but you didn’t need a special skill to die instantly if the damage was high enough. Either way, I had to find a solution before she fired three more times.

Besides, the timing of the shots was strange.

Except for the moments she attacked, the Snow Maiden didn’t move to strike me directly. Instead, she maintained her distance, watching my reactions with an eerily blank expression. Three shots so far, and there didn’t seem to be a set time interval. That meant a specific action of mine was likely the trigger.

If that’s the case… Ah.

“Testing.”

The moment my voice faded, her hand went up. A gargantuan snow-cannonball tore through the air toward me. Having anticipated the movement, I dodged with ease. The counter hit 2.

It was certain now. My voice was the trigger. I clamped my lips shut, making sure not even a breath escaped, and watched her. She continued to circle me, the blizzard still acting as her armor.

I couldn’t stay in this stalemate forever. I bit my lip as I looked at the faint shadow beginning to respawn behind her. I had to kill her before that shadow materialized. If a second monster joined the fray, there was no guarantee her patterns wouldn’t become even more complex.

Think, think, Chae Un-ha!

No matter how I spun it, a solution wasn’t obvious. As long as I couldn’t use ranged skills, I couldn’t touch her, and she wouldn’t approach me. The only variable was the countdown triggered by my voice.

To hell with it.

“Snow Maiden. Why don’t we have a little chat?”

As soon as I spoke, her right hand went up. I dodged the now-familiar projectile and checked the gauge. 1. Only one left. Please don’t let a one-shot ultimate come out at zero. I offered a silent prayer to a God I didn’t even believe in and opened my mouth again.

“Tell me you’re the last monster.”

The final snow-cannonball fell, and the counter hit 0. In that instant, the blizzard surrounding her flared outward with explosive force. As I scrambled back in surprise, the wind—now laden with jagged ice crystals—began to rake across the entire area.

“Ah, sh*t, was this not it?”

Inside the howling wind, I ducked and weaved through sharp crystals aimed ruthlessly at my heart. It felt like playing a bullet-hell shooter. Amidst the beautiful but deadly patterns of ice, my destination was right in front of her. The blizzard that had been protecting her like a hard cocoon had spread thin to cover the whole field, revealing an opening. Of course, the outward force was trying to shove me back with immense pressure. I had to mind my front, back, and sides to ensure a crystal didn’t catch me from behind as I fought the wind. But even this gale couldn’t stop me.

As I closed the gap, the Snow Maiden’s eyes narrowed sharply. Ice crystals clung fiercely to her white eyelashes. She snapped her sleeve, sending a hail of razor-sharp ice shards toward me. I parried them with my blades, cursing the fact that I couldn’t use skills for the hundredth time. Still, she couldn’t block my path.

Soon, we were at close quarters. She pulled out a large, white khakkhara (a monk’s staff). It was so blindingly white it barely looked like a staff. Wait, aren’t those usually for monks? A Snow Maiden with a white monk’s staff was a bizarre combination.

Instead of flashy skills, a brutal exchange of horizontal and vertical slashes followed. Her staff clattered against my blades and pulled away. I crossed my swords to parry her strikes, thrusting deep whenever I saw a gap. I was breathless, dodging the blizzard that raged in sync with her temper. Can I really win this? Without a single skill?

Trading nothing but basic attacks made me feel like I was back in the Tutorial Tower. Back then, too, I had to solve everything with just the basics.

Come to think of it, I even fought Sephiroth’s AI in that tower.

“Hey, Snow Maiden.”

Thinking of the Tutorial Tower gave me a sudden surge of confidence. My footsteps grew heavier and more certain. If I beat Sephiroth’s NPC with basic attacks, why should a Snow Maiden be a problem? In all my life, Sephiroth was the only person I’d met with such terrifying natural gaming sense. No matter how sophisticated an AI was, it couldn’t replicate even a fraction of that talent.

If I won against an AI modeled after him, surely I could beat an AI that wasn’t.

“Can we just wrap this up already?”

My strikes gained weight. My movements accelerated. My hands moved with the fluidity of a conductor, sending my blades toward her heart. Someone once said combat is all about confidence, and they were right. It was a matter of perspective. A moment ago, I was wondering how to kill her without skills; now, I was certain I didn’t need them.

She swung her staff with power instead of answering. My sword met the staff, and the tip of my blade frosted over instantly. If we kept clashing like this, my weapon’s durability would vanish in seconds. I couldn’t let that happen. I dug in my heels and closed the distance even further. It was slower than I wanted due to the movement penalty, but still faster than her reaction speed.

A staff was a long-reach weapon. If she kept me at a distance, I was at a disadvantage. By closing in, I would seal her attacks and make mine count.

Instead of raising my sword, I drove my elbow hard into her solar plexus.

“Ugh…”

A revoltingly cold sensation surged through my elbow and vanished. She let out a weak groan, but the effect was good. She clearly hadn’t expected me to resort to physical brawling and left herself wide open. As she stumbled, unable to regain her balance, I lashed out with a kick.

The hits connected one after another. As she took damage, the blizzard around her weakened. She tried to pull the winds back in, but I stayed glued to her side, weaving through the crystals being sucked back toward her. If the blizzard condensed into a cocoon again, I’d have to trigger that countdown all over. In that time, the triggers could become more complex, or her patterns stronger.

I wasn’t going to let that happen.

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