At the city's edge, Jon decided to rent one of the mounts available at the guild's stable. These weren't ordinary horses but domesticated beasts. The attendant led him to an imposing creature, its muscular body covered in gray fur and its amber eyes gleaming with primal light. The beast resembled a massive wolf—larger and more robust, with claws that left deep grooves in the stone floor.
"Fast and reliable, perfect for solo travel," said the attendant, handing him the reins.
Jon nodded. He mounted with practiced ease, adjusted his hood, and set off toward the southeast.
During the journey, he didn't simply ride. Just as he had done around Riverwood, he used every encounter with nature as training. Wild hares, white-furred foxes, even large birds gliding across the sky—none escaped his arrows. Not out of hunger—he had plenty of supplies in his inventory—but out of habit and strategy.
The more I train while moving, the more natural it'll feel when I actually need it in battle.
The dry twang of bowstrings, the hiss of arrows slicing through the air, and the dull impact as they hit their marks echoed across the snow-covered plains.
Fwip! Thud!
Fwip! Thud!
With each perfect shot, Jon felt his technique sharpen.
What should've been a few hours of travel stretched longer. Instead of three, nearly five hours passed as he hunted and advanced. The sun was already high when, in the distance, a chain of snowy mountains came into view. The air grew colder, and the heavy silence gave the impression of complete isolation.
Jon dismounted, patting the beast's neck as it panted heavily. He decided to set up a small camp before approaching the dungeon's exact location.
He wasn't tired or hungry—his body handled the journey well, and his supplies were more than enough. But he couldn't forget Ren. The memory of that fight was still a scar etched in his mind. Never lower your guard. Never show weakness.
He built a small fire, carefully shielded by stones, and sat in front of it. Smoke rose lazily, and to any hidden observer, it would seem nothing more than a young adventurer resting after a long ride.
Even if someone's following me, they won't suspect anything. I'll look like a rookie trying to keep warm.
The crackle of burning wood brought him an odd sense of calm. Jon stared into the flames when, suddenly, something unexpected occurred.
DING!
A bluish window appeared before his eyes, cutting through the monotony of snow and silence.
Survival Mission Activated
Objective: Eliminate all threats.
Rewards: Vary depending on performance.
Bonus: Unlocks additional system functions.
Jon's eyes widened. A survival mission? It's been so long since I've seen one...
His heart raced. During his entire time in Riverwood, he had hunted, trained, and explored—but never again had he triggered one of these missions. It was a distant memory, something the system only activated under specific circumstances.
He slowly stood, brushing snow over the fire to dim its light. The cold wind swept past, carrying a chill that had nothing to do with temperature.
So it wasn't just paranoia. Something really is here.
His gaze scanned the mountain slope. The silence felt deeper now, as if even the world itself was holding its breath.
"Come on then…" he murmured, eyes glowing as the matrix of the Mystic Eyes activated.
Blood surged in his veins. It wasn't fear—it was adrenaline.
Jon stood still, every sense heightened, his eyes tracing the faint lines of mana glowing in his vision. The cold wind howled, spinning snowflakes around the dimming fire.
Then—a shadow emerged from the white. Silent, yet not invisible to the Mystic Eyes, it slipped out from behind a nearby tree. A hooded man, posture relaxed, wearing a black mask that covered his face, leaving only two hollow eyes visible.
A crooked smile formed beneath the fabric covering his mouth. "You're good, kid."
Jon didn't step back. Instead, a faint smirk tugged at his lips as he dismissed his bow and reached for the sword strapped to his back. "Roderic, Nolan… or maybe Lysander?" A short, amused laugh escaped him, echoing in the frozen air. "Heh… didn't think teenage rivalries would go so far as to hire the assassin's guild."
The man's smile vanished instantly. He leaned forward like a predator ready to strike. "Who are you? A commoner shouldn't even know that name." His voice dripped with hostility, distorted by the mask concealing his identity.
Jon didn't answer right away. His green eyes glinted as he exhaled slowly, tension thickening the air. With a deliberate motion, he drew the sword from his back.
Crack… Fwooooshhh!
The air crackled as Luminar's blade left its sheath. Flames coiled along its length, dancing like hungry serpents that painted the snow red-orange. Heat rippled outward, melting the flakes that drifted too close.
Jon raised the sword to shoulder height, twirling the hilt with calm precision. The fire's reflection danced in his irises, merging with the arcane matrix of his Mystic Eyes.
He smiled—tauntingly. "If I tell you who I am… will you let me go?"
The assassin scoffed, irritated. "Arrogant."
In the blink of an eye, he lunged. His movement was almost soundless, but to Jon, the traces of mana were as clear as daylight. The energy concentrated in the man's legs—a burst of speed, fast as a wolf. Then it shifted to his arms, summoning a short blade from his sleeve aimed straight for Jon's heart.
Clang!
Jon raised Luminar at the exact moment, blocking the strike. Sparks exploded as the weapons met, mixing with flames that scattered into the air.
"You react too damn fast!" the assassin spat, sliding back across the snow before charging again.
Jon narrowed his eyes. He's trained… but not that strong.
Once more, the enemy vanished from sight. A blur, a shadow, a flicker of movement. But Jon didn't rely on sight alone. The glowing lines of mana betrayed every intention, every buildup.
He turned left. Fwsssh! The enemy's blade sliced through the air where his neck had been a second earlier.
Jon countered instantly. His flaming sword cut through the air, leaving a fiery trail that lit up the assassin's masked face.
The man blocked—barely—but the impact hurled him backward, his boots carving deep lines into the snow.
His breathing grew heavy, visible as white mist escaping the mask. "You're no ordinary commoner."
Jon spun Luminar in his hand, scattering embers. "And you're not as terrifying as you think."
The silence stretched again, broken only by the crackle of fire and the mountain wind. Both men stood still, tension thickening with every heartbeat.
The assassin clenched his fists. "Whoever you are, you're not leaving here alive."
Jon only smiled—steady, eyes burning with fire and resolve. "We'll see about that."