The beastly roar echoed once more in the icy air, slicing through the night like a thunderclap.


    Mata felt his heart skip a beat. Yahiko, on the other hand, was frozen. A wave of shivers ran down his spine as his eyes locked onto the creature emerging from the darkness.


    The boreal bear was a living monstrosity. Massive, titanic, it must have stood nearly two and a half meters at the shoulder, its gray fur streaked with scars, forming a map of past battles. Its entire body told a story of war and survival. Where other beasts would have been broken by time and wounds, this one had only grown more monstrous.


    But what struck Yahiko and Mata the most were the bony protrusions jutting from its back like sharp blades. Around thirty bone spikes, terrifyingly long, formed a natural armor, deterring any attack from behind. But the most terrifying part was what oozed from their tips—a thick, blackish, viscous liquid.


    Poison.


    Its own poison.


    Over the years, the toxin circulating in its blood had seeped into these bony outgrowths, saturating them with a deadly venom. A mere scratch could be enough to infect, paralyze, and kill. This was no longer just a mere beast… it was a living weapon, a predator whose entire body had become an instrument of death.


    Mata swallowed hard. One of the beast’s eye sockets was empty—an old wound, further proof that this creature had already brushed against death… and defied it.


    At first glance, the boreal bear had no weakness.


    A suffocating silence settled in, broken only by the animal’s harsh breathing, its breath forming thick plumes of vapor in the freezing air.


    Then, without the slightest warning, it charged.


    The air shattered under the force of its movement. It barreled toward them at an absurd speed for a creature of its size, its colossal body plowing through the snow in a storm of frost and fury.


    To it, Yahiko and Mata were nothing. Mere insects to be crushed.


    In a fraction of a second, the bear lunged at them, its massive paw slicing through the air with terrifying power.


    Mata reacted instantly and shoved Yahiko aside, forcefully throwing him out of the attack’s reach.


    Propelled away, Yahiko lost hold of the cage in the chaos. Before it could even hit the ground, it was obliterated by the bear’s strike, exploding into a rain of splinters.


    A beat of wings.


    The bird took flight with a panicked flutter.


    A precious option had just vanished.


    And the bear hadn’t even slowed down.


    It lunged at Yahiko, jaws wide open, revealing fangs as large as his hand.


    But Yahiko had already regained his senses. He leaped backward, barely dodging the attack, putting a crucial distance between himself and this machine of death.


    With a swift motion, he grabbed the small curved blade at his waist and took a defensive stance. Mata, on his end, had already drawn his sword. Together, they surrounded the beast.


    Their pupils had contracted under the pressure of absolute focus. Every muscle in their bodies was taut, ready to react at the slightest movement. After witnessing the animal’s speed and power, they knew that the smallest mistake, the slightest misstep, would mean death.


    They knew their only chance was to disorient it, to attack from different angles. If the bear managed to trap them both at the same time, it would be over.


    But the beast was not stupid. Its black eyes followed their movements with an unsettling intelligence. As if it understood their strategy.


    Then it moved.


    A monster of that size should never have been so fast.


    In an instant, the bear lunged at Mata, bringing its claws down to crush him.


    Yahiko, reacting in a heartbeat, grabbed a rock and hurled it with all his strength at the beast’s back. The impact, though insignificant, was enough to distract the bear for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Mata to leap to the side and evade the attack.


    In the same motion, he countered. His sword slashed through the air, aiming for the exposed flank of the bear with the intent to pierce through.


    But the creature was more than just a bloodthirsty brute. In a lightning-fast reflex, it spun around, presenting its back covered in venomous spikes. Mata cursed and halted his attack just in time, stopping a mere fraction of a second before a fatal mistake.


    Yahiko, on the other hand, did not remain idle. Seizing a brief opening, he darted to the beast’s flank and drove his blade into its underbelly, where the fur was thinner. But the weapon, too short and ill-suited for such an opponent, inflicted only a shallow cut. A thin stream of dark blood beaded from the wound, but the bear didn’t even react. Yahiko leaped back before the creature could retaliate, his heart pounding furiously.


    That was the signal.


    Without a word, the two friends launched themselves at the beast, unleashing a synchronized assault of terrifying precision. Their coordination was flawless—as if they instinctively anticipated each other’s moves. Even though they had never fought together against a common enemy, they knew each other by heart.


    Their combined strength didn’t simply add up.


    It exploded, multiplying far beyond the sum of their individual talents. Their coordination went beyond mere complementarity—it was instinctive, almost organic, shaped by years of friendship and mutual training, despite their young age.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Mata, a relentless self-taught fighter, had honed his body and reflexes through sheer, ceaseless effort. Yahiko, on the other hand, was an intuitive prodigy, a fighter with razor-sharp instincts and lightning-fast decisions. They had learned from no master, followed no recognized school of combat. And yet, before them, no classical fighting style could predict their movements.


    Every strike from one was anticipated by the other. Every dodge opened the way for a counterattack, every feint created an opportunity amplified by the presence of his partner. It wasn’t a martial dance, but a chaotic symphony of attacks and evasions, where their synchronization made their assault three, even four times deadlier.


    Yet, despite this perfect harmony…


    It wasn’t enough.


    Before them, the bear wasn’t just brute force. It was a war machine, a monster born from chaos and survival, sharpened by years of battle and slaughter. Where any other creature would have been overwhelmed by the relentless pressure of their attacks, it adapted. It blocked with almost cynical precision, dodged with disconcerting speed, and endured their strikes as if they were nothing more than gusts of wind against a rock.


    And when it counterattacked… it was carnage.


    Every movement of the bear was a death sentence. Its paws struck with the force of a tree trunk ripped from the ground by a storm, its fetid breath vibrated in the air like a grim omen. Yahiko and Mata survived only by last-second dodges, brushing against death with every passing instant. Every avoided blow bought them a fraction of a second more to live, but their endurance was crumbling. Their breaths grew shorter, their muscles heavier.


    They weren’t winning.


    They weren’t even fighting.


    They were merely struggling to survive.


    Their focus was absolute. Their bodies burned with effort. Their breath became shallower.


    At this pace, they wouldn’t last.


    The bear, however, did not weaken. Worse—it was growing angrier. Every failed attack fueled its mounting rage. Its roars made the air tremble, its ferocity intensified.


    And they both knew it.


    Time was against them.


    Amid the chaos of brutal exchanges, frantic dodges, and devastating blows, Mata managed to formulate a plan.


    It required extreme concentration, as he had to keep evading and countering at a relentless pace. He absolutely had to find a way to turn the tide of the battle—or at the very least, buy a few precious seconds.


    His gaze met Yahiko’s. A simple nod sealed their mutual understanding.


    Making a perilous decision, Mata chose to take a hit. He relied on the toughness of his body and the flat of his sword to absorb some of the impact, while slightly stepping back at the moment of contact to disperse part of the force.


    But he had underestimated the bear’s colossal strength. The instant the blow struck him, a searing pain shot through his entire being. Despite his preparation, the sheer force of the attack crushed his muscles and sent tremors through his bones, as if they were on the verge of shattering under the pressure.


    At that very moment, as Mata took the full brunt of the bear’s strike, Yahiko was positioned behind it, ready to counterattack. But suddenly, in a movement as unexpected as it was brutal, the beast swung its hind paw directly at his face, its razor-sharp claws whistling through the air.


    Yahiko had never seen a bear attack like that—since when did these creatures use such maneuvers?! Taken off guard, he had no choice but to dodge at the very last second. His foot landed on the beast’s massive paw—an error he realized too late. Under his boot, he felt the raw power of a monster born to kill. A shockwave coursed through his entire leg, his muscles trembling under the pressure. His knee buckled from the impact, a sharp pain shooting through his thigh. He toppled backward, hurled like a ragdoll. The snow barely cushioned his fall as he rolled for several meters, his breath knocked out by the shock.


    A shiver of dread ran through him. This bear… it wasn’t just a wild beast.


    It was a monster.


    Mata, on the other hand, didn’t even need to feign pain. The sheer power of the strike tore him off the ground, sending him flying through the air before he crashed violently onto the frozen earth, the impact ripping the air from his lungs.


    Barely had he hit the ground when the bear, merciless and unrelenting, lunged forward to finish him off.


    Fighting against the numbness and the pain pulsing through his limbs and chest, Mata snapped back to his senses and, in a last desperate effort, pushed himself up with difficulty, adrenaline surging through his veins. In one perfectly calculated, desperate leap, he jumped over the pit trap they had dug earlier, hoping the bear would plunge straight into it.


    But the beast halted abruptly. It had not charged blindly as he had hoped. Instead, it sniffed the air, scrutinized the ground with a piercing gaze, then locked its icy eyes onto him.


    — That bastard… it smelled the trap, Mata growled through gritted teeth.


    The next instant, the monstrous beast leaped—a prodigious jump that defied all logic for a creature of its size. Its massive body soared over the pit as if it didn’t exist, and in the blink of an eye, it was already crashing down where Mata had stood just a fraction of a second earlier.


    But Mata, driven by raw survival instinct, rolled to the side at the last moment, narrowly escaping the titan’s impact. The snow erupted under the bear’s weight, sending a cloud of white billowing into the air.


    He didn’t have time to savor his dodge.


    In one fluid and relentless motion, the bear followed through, its colossal muscles contracting as it pivoted with terrifying agility. In an instant, it was already upon him, its gaping maw and deadly claws poised to strike the young man down.


    Yahiko, still dazed, pushed himself up with difficulty, his body battered and his mind racing. His eyes locked onto the scene, a shiver of dread running down his spine. He was too far. He would never make it in time.


    Mata was going to die.


    His mind screamed, his body burned with exhaustion, and yet, one thought took hold of him: he had one last chance. One insane gamble. Pure madness. If he failed, it would all be over.


    He reached deep within himself, desperately searching for that strange energy he still struggled to understand. But this time, he didn’t try to create a copy. He had neither the strength nor the time.


    He let everything he had left explode.


    An invisible wave burst from his body, a sudden and uncontrollable release of that mysterious energy. The air around him trembled, as if space itself twisted under the sudden pressure.


    The bear, moments away from striking Mata down, froze.


    Its animal instinct, sharpened by years of battles, sensed something inexplicable. A danger it couldn’t see. Its gaze briefly shifted toward Yahiko, fixing on an invisible point beyond the boy.


    Mata, gasping for breath, then saw what he hadn’t noticed until now—the bear’s underbelly.


    Its one and only weak point.


    Drawing from the last remnants of his strength, he raised his sword and plunged the blade into the beast’s exposed abdomen. The creature let out a deep growl of pain, but its hide was so thick, its flesh so dense, that the sword—of average make—snapped under the pressure before reaching its heart.


    Mata was consumed by rage.


    Screaming, he grabbed the broken half of his blade and stabbed it repeatedly into the monster’s belly, avoiding the area where the poison sac lay. He struck again and again, unleashing all his fury, until, at last, the bear collapsed with a final, agonized groan.


    Silence fell.


    Mata, his breath erratic, swayed on his feet as he stared at the bear’s lifeless corpse. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by a dull pain spreading through his limbs.


    He couldn’t feel his fingers. His arms were heavy. His body trembled with exhaustion. He tried to take a step… but his legs gave out beneath his own weight. He fell to his knees, panting, his gaze still locked onto Yahiko.


    The latter lay motionless in the snow.


    Unmoving.


    Blood marred the pristine white around his head. A crimson trail trickled from his nose and his closed eyes.


    For a second, Mata thought he was dead.


    But as he focused—at the cost of a painful effort—he noticed a thin wisp of vapor escaping from Yahiko’s lips. A breath. Weak, irregular… but still there.


    A mix of relief and exhaustion washed over him. He wanted to move, to make sure his friend would hold on, but his body refused to respond. His muscles were locked in place, his breath short, and he felt himself slipping away, unable to make another move.


    So he remained there.


    Lying in the snow, utterly drained. His blurred vision fixed on Yahiko, while the icy bite of the night was already creeping into his skin.


    Everything had come down to a thread.


    This time, they had won.


    But at what cost?