Chapter 74: Snow and Battle

The creature exploded forward like a living avalanche. Damon barely had time to twist, his feet sinking shin-deep into the powdery snow. The paw came down on him with the force of a landslide.

BOOM!

The impact with the ground kicked up a wave of snow, throwing him backward like a doll. Damon spun in the air, his dark blue cape whipping before he buried himself in the snow. A sharp crack ran down his spine; pain followed soon after, throbbing.

He took a deep breath, his lungs burning with cold air. The creature didn’t wait. It slammed its fists into its chest again, each beat like a drum announcing its fury, and charged.

Damon rose, ignoring the pain, and swung his spear in an arc to deflect the first thrust. The blade grazed the beast’s face—but nothing more than a shallow scratch. The skin wouldn’t give.

The ape responded with a twist of its arm. Damon leaped, but the draft alone hurled him against a tree.

CRACK!

The trunk groaned, snow falling from the branches, and Damon fell to his knees. He coughed, spitting blood onto the white snow.

“Damn it…” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove. “It’s like trying to cut through a wall.”

The ape roared, frozen saliva splattering the ground, and descended on him with both hands, like a judge executing him. Damon rolled to the side at the last instant. The impact cracked the ground, shards of ice flying like blades.

He counterattacked, thrusting his spear between the creature’s colossal fingers. He forced it, grunting with all the strength in his arms and shoulders. The monster merely lifted its hand, dragging Damon along as if he were nothing.

For an instant, Damon hung in the air, shaken like a trapped insect.

The beast released him.

WHOOOSH!

He shot through the air like an arrow, crashing into another tree. The wood splintered into splinters. Damon fell, rolling through the snow, his body throbbing in every joint.

The world spun, the roar of the storm mingling with the beast’s roar. He tried to stand, leaning on his spear, but his knees buckled.

The creature came again. Each step shook the ground. Its icy eyes burned into him like blue torches.

“It’s useless…,” he thought.

He leaped aside again, but felt the gigantic claw scrape against his cloak. A piece of fabric ripped away. Damon swung the spear, driving it into the monster’s shoulder.

CLANG!

The sound was metallic, as if it had struck a rock. The blade hadn’t even gone in an inch.

The ape merely raised its arm, and Damon, still clinging to the spear, was swept away. With a sharp blow, the giant slammed his shoulder into a tree, crushing it against the wood. The air rushed from Damon’s lungs in a choked groan.

He fell again, the spear slipping from his fingers.

For a moment, he simply knelt in the snow, breathing heavily. His entire body screamed. Every bone felt cracked.

The creature snorted, slowly approaching, like an executioner certain of victory.

Damon closed his eyes. For an instant, he felt small. Tiny before that colossal strength. His spear—his pride, his extension, his weapon—seemed a useless toy against this enemy.

“I can’t even scratch this damned thing.”

The beast raised its arm again. The enormous shadow fell over him.

Instinct.

Damon rolled forward, retrieving the spear in the same slam. He spun on the ice, scraping the blade against the creature’s ankle. The blow sent sparks of ice flying, but nothing more.

The ape roared in anger and kicked.

Damon flew.

His body described a grotesque arc before falling heavily to the ground. The snow cushioned him, but the impact nearly broke his ribs.

He crawled, spitting more blood. His hands trembled. The cold bit, but it wasn’t the cold that made him tremble. It was the helplessness.

On his knees, he looked up.

The giant was there. Untouched. Not a drop of blood. No real wound.

Only Damon, broken, gasping, the weapon nearly slipping from his fingers.

For an instant, the wind seemed to mock him. The storm swirled around him, white, endless.

He stood—because it was Damon. Because he knew no other way. But in his chest, the feeling weighed like lead: nothing he did was any use.

He was no match for this monster.

And yet the beast roared and attacked again.

And Damon raised his spear, even though he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

The beast’s roar vibrated through the air, reverberating off the snow like thunder. Damon dug his heels into the ground, his labored breath turning to vapor that dissolved in the gale. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from the pain throbbing in his muscles. The spear was still there, faithful but useless.

He twirled the weapon in his fingers, repositioning it like a weary conductor about to command a final symphony.

“A weak spot. Every monster has a damned weak spot.”

The ape charged again, each step like an avalanche swallowing the mountain. Damon dodged to the side, sliding across the snow, and delivered a swift blow to the creature’s groin.

The spearhead clinked like iron on iron. Nothing.

“Nothing?” he growled, sliding backward, panting. “Are you kidding me…”

The giant whipped around, its snowy tail raised high above its body in a whirlwind. Its massive hand swept through the air, nearly yanking Damon off his feet. He dove belly-first, letting his arm rip through the snow, and as he came up, he swung the spear, aiming for his armpits.

CLANG!

The blade slammed into the fold of thick skin. Still nothing. Just a shallow mark that instantly disappeared.

The monster responded with a violent headbutt, its skull thrusting forward like a battering ram. Damon raised the spear horizontally, using it as a barrier. The impact was brutal—THOOM!—and the breath was knocked from his lungs. He was thrown backward again, falling backward into the snow, the weapon slipping from his hands for a second before he recovered it.

Lying there, gasping, Damon looked up. The giant raised its fist, ready to crush him.

He rolled, feeling the cold snow seep through the gaps in his clothing, and his hand snatched the spear in a desperate movement. With a fluid twist, he drove the tip into the monster’s hip.

The dry sound echoed—and once again, the skin resisted. Barely a scratch.

Damon growled, the veins bulging in his neck. “Show some weakness, you bastard!”

The ape roared, the snow trembling as if the whole world echoed his fury. He raised his hand and slapped his chest, mocking.

Damon spat blood into the snow and smirked. “Oh, you like that, huh? Let’s see what you think of this.”

He advanced, gliding like a hunter, and aimed for the eyes. The spear sliced ​​through the air in a precise arc, straight for the glowing eyeball.

But the beast blinked in quick reflex. The tip only grazed the thick eyelid, tearing off a few icy hairs.

The roar that followed nearly shattered his eardrums. The giant arm descended like a lightning bolt. Damon was swept sideways, spinning through the air, until he buried himself facedown in the snow.

He coughed. Warm blood trickled from his mouth.

“The eyes… it almost worked.”

He braced his spear to stand, his fingers numb. The giant stared at him now with pure hatred. The creature’s breath kicked up clouds of steam that swirled in the storm, as if the weather itself bowed to it.

Damon ran. Yes, he ran toward the monster. A madman in the face of death. He swung the spear like a baton, dodging each titanic blow. At every opening, he tried: the joints of his knees, the tendons under his arms, his neck.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

Nothing. Not a single point gave way.

“You’re kidding me!” he shouted, his voice cracking between rage and exhaustion.

The beast swung its arm horizontally. Damon jumped, curling his body in the air, and swung the spear as if to pierce it from above. He aimed for the base of its neck.

The blade went in a few millimeters. Not enough. Not enough. It only made the beast roar louder, enraged.

The ape turned, and Damon was thrown off like a mosquito attached to its back. He fell backward, the spear slipping from his hands.

For a moment, he lay motionless, lying in the snow, watching the colossal shadow approach. The feeling of uselessness fell upon him with more weight than any blow.

“I am nothing… absolutely nothing against this.”

His hand, trembling, groped for the spear shaft. He pulled it free, dragging it through the snow. Still, he stood. His body wrecked, his bones screaming, but still standing.

And then he tried again.

He advanced straight ahead, his weapon low, as if to plunge it into the creature’s heart. The ape raised his fist and brought it down.

The impact came like an avalanche. Damon nearly fell, but spun at the last moment and drove the spear straight into the beast’s ear.

For a second, he thought it might work.

But it didn’t. The ear was protected by a tough inner layer of cartilage. The blow rebounded as if it had struck iron.

The monster whipped its head around violently. Damon was thrown away, spinning through the air until he landed on his side, a hoarse groan escaping his lips.

He lay there, staring at the white sky, pain pulsing through every inch of his body. The spear fell beside him, half-buried in the snow.

Panting, his cracked lips parted in a cynical smile. “Nothing works… absolutely nothing.”

The giant approached, his footsteps shaking the ground. His shadow grew over Damon.

Even so, he grabbed the spear. He rose slowly, staggering, his body begging him to give up, but his mind refusing.

He held it tightly, breathing deeply. “Then come… damn you. If I can’t hurt you… I can still resist.”

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