Winston growled at the beast sitting before him. He’d given it everything he had, but the Nine-Tailed Fox was alive and well, albeit bloodied. The snow had melted around Winston’s attack, and the very earth beneath it had cracked. Still, the beast had survived.

  Winston advanced, tendrils of energy rising around him as prepared to finish the job. As he grew closer, he froze. On the fox’s face was a look of…amusement? Winston formed a shield before himself, but it didn’t make any difference. A blast of glowing, ethereal energy shot from the fox. It shattered Winston’s feeble attempt at defense, and even as he formed more and more barriers, it broke through those, as well.

  Winston tried to use [Devour], but nothing happened. That was the ability’s weakness. After it was used, there was a period where it was utterly useless. The more powerful a skill it devoured, the longer the wait. When he’d been bombarded by spells as he escaped the Caltheran camp, his Soul Shard had stopped working altogether. Winston wasn’t sure why, but he assumed it was due to the excessive amount of spells he’d devoured at once.

  There was nothing he could do. Winston channeled as much energy as he could into a protective shell around himself and squeezed his eyes shut.

  For a second, nothing happened, and Winston thought he’d stopped it. He was wrong. His defenses had only won him a moment of respite. Then, the bolt exploded into thousands of strands of eerie, ethereal mist. Winston let out a pathetic yelp as he was launched away, his barrier in tatters.

  As he flew, time seemed to slow down, the progress of the explosion slowing to a crawl. Through the tendrils of energy, Winston could just barely make out the two tails of the fox billowing behind it as it fled. Winston growled, but there was nothing he could do. The beast would get away no matter what he did. What mattered now was surviving the attack.

  Winston knew he only had seconds before he came crashing to the ground. He had to work fast. He still had about a third of his energy remaining, and he used it all in a single moment, his mind straining with effort.

  It was strange what he did. Winston didn’t know what came over him, but as he began to form a protective shell around himself, he stopped. It wouldn’t do enough. Not even close. Keeping a thin barrier around him, Winston channeled the golden energy. He acted instinctively, launching it all around him. In a split second, the energy shot dozens of meters in every direction, forming a vast, golden net.

  [Channel Food Energy lvl 9 → Channel Food Energy lvl 10]

  Then, the energy solidified. It wasn’t hard like stone; more like a stiff cloth. Winston jerked violently in the air, twisting as he rapidly decelerated. A second later, Winston crashed into the packed snow beneath him.

  It hadn’t been nearly enough to slow him to a comfortable speed, but the faux-parachute had done wonders. Winston yowled in pain as he struck the earth, his barrier shattering. Still, no sound came out but the uncontrollable rush of air as it was forced out of him.

  The crunch of bone cut through the chaos assaulting Winston’s ears, followed by a jolt of pain.

  Winston barreled through the snow, leaving a deep trench behind him. He struck rocks and roots as he went, adding more and more damage to his small body even as they slowed him.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Finally, Winston came to a stop, buried deep in the snow. He growled in pain as he forced himself out and to his feet. Taking a few shaky steps, Winston began heading back to camp. The landing hadn’t been as bad as he—

  Winston’s legs collapsed beneath him as another wave of pain wracked his body. A second later, his vision went black.

  ?? ′?? ? ??` ??

  The moment Winston slipped from the comfort of sleep, waves of pain washed over him. He let out a soft whimper as he lay in the snow. Despite the bone-deep cold, Winston knew he should be grateful for it. Every bit of his body felt numb, dimming the pain. Still, it was almost unbearable.

  Winston tried to stand up, but he couldn’t. His left hind leg radiated pain; the bone shattered. Trying again, Winston forced himself up with his other three legs. He wobbled as his chest throbbed from a broken rib. The rest of his body, bruised and battered, hurt nearly as much.

  Ignoring the blur of his vision, Winston glanced around. The snow around him was churned and bloodstained, mixed with pebbles and fragments of sticks. Glancing down at his body, Winston tried to see if he was still bleeding. His vision was becoming clearer by the second, but he still couldn’t quite tell.

  Winston hobbled forward, determined to survive and get back to the cave. His toughness would have to be enough to keep him moving.

  As Winston limped his way through the snow, he tried to think of ways to make his movement more efficient using food energy. After a while, he couldn’t find anything that would work. He could shoot bursts of energy behind him to launch him forward, but that would waste far too much energy and barely even speed him up.

  He formed a sling of energy for his injured leg, loosely tying it to his body to prevent his injured leg from dragging. Winston whimpered in pain as he pulled himself forward. He’d almost reached the spot where he’d fought the fox. As he neared the patches of melted snow and scorched earth, an idea came to Winston.

  He’d been to the snow once before coming to the tower. When his humans had brought him there, they’d slid down a hill on a small plastic slab. They’d even let him try. He had not liked it. They’d called it a ‘sled.’

  Winston came to a stop and began forming a disc of energy. He’d regenerated some while he was unconscious, but he was still dangerously low. He needed to use it wisely.

  When the circular sled was done, Winston pushed himself onto it, lying on his side. It was hard not to fall asleep then and there. To let the pain fade away, if just for a moment. The one advantage of walking was that the constant jolts of pain had kept him awake. Shaking his head aggressively, Winston tried to blink the weariness away.

  Winston formed a few tendrils of golden energy. They extended from his back, barely two feet long. He needed to conserve energy, so he couldn’t make them any longer than he needed.

  Using the tendrils, Winston pushed behind him, sliding the sled forward. It was pitifully slow, but compared to just earlier, it was a sprint. Winston kept pushing, making steady progress across the snowy mountainside. As he moved, he passed a herd of deer, all Initiate-tier. They glanced at him curiously, but paid him no mind as he slid past.

  Winston’s vision had fully cleared, so he began to inspect his body. He had several nasty cuts that looked recently closed. Winston took in a sharp breath as his broken rib shifted. He was no longer bleeding, and his bruises were fading. As Winston sat on the sled, he regretted not putting more points into toughness. Not only would it have helped him heal, but it would’ve reduced the amount of injuries he’d gotten in the first place.

  Winston kept pushing for what seemed like hours. Hope and anticipation began to burn in his chest, and he let out a happy yip as he came closer and closer to the cave. But he’d celebrated too early.

  Out of the trees before him stepped a doe. The deer was Initiate 9, but it wasn’t alone. All around Winston, more deer appeared. Three more does and a single buck, each between Initiate 6 and 8. It was the herd he’d passed earlier. They’d followed him.

  The Initiate 9 beast looked to be the matriarch, with the rest simply following its orders. Winston growled, but it came out a scared whimper.

  He couldn’t fight them, he knew that, so he did the only thing he could. He howled.

  Somehow, my editor and I both missed a typo where I spelled Winston as "Wibstub"... Anyway, thank you to my patron(I only have 1 now :<) for pointing it out!