This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange - Chapter 511

Chapter 511: Chapter 511: “Hell”
‘Why did I agree to this?!’

Malzahir thought for probably the 10th time in just that hour after landing face down again in a pile of snow.

‘Snow’ That’s what he’d learned from Idrias was the name of this horrific white powder.

He groaned, pushing himself up with trembling arms, his breath coming out in visible puffs. The cold bit at his skin, the snow clinging to his clothes and hair. With each passing second, his hatred for this ‘snow’ grew stronger.

One would think that walking on sand and snow would be similar—they weren’t! Absolutely not!

Sand was warm, familiar, and would softly cushion your fall. Snow, on the other hand, was cold, treacherous, and evil.

Every step was a battle for him, his feet sinking into the powdery white surface, his legs struggling to pull him forward. He felt as though he’d somehow degenerated to being a toddler, incapable of taking more than a few dozen steps without being at risk of falling.

‘Even though I didn’t die, this is definitely hell…’ he thought bitterly, while brushing the snow off of his face.

The only reason he wasn’t frozen solid yet was because of the clothing left behind by Idrias. But even that was barely enough.

The freezing winds carrying chunks of ice and snow were like painful pieces of razors, cutting straight to his bones.

His fingers, despite being gloved, felt numb, and his toes had long since lost sensation. He wondered if they’d freeze and drop off before he even found another person to pass Idrias’ ring to.

Fortunately, although the majority of the objects in the space ring given to him Malzahir had no idea how to use, some had obvious purposes—and he would have long died without them.

For example, the portable fire starter the size and shape of a can around thigh height, allowed him to obtain some warmth in this cold environment. If he hadn’t had it, he wouldn’t even know where to begin collecting wood and other flammable materials when all he could see was white…

In the ring were also many food rations, water, blankets, and clothing suitable for various weather conditions. Malzahir had layered himself in thick furs and wool, but even that wasn’t enough to fully ward off the biting cold. There was also a mechanical glowing orb that his instincts screamed against touching—certain it was a weapon of some kind, although he had no idea how to use it. He had tried to examine it once, but the moment his fingers brushed its surface, a sharp, electric jolt had coursed through his arm, leaving it tingling for hours. Since then, he’d avoided even looking at it.

As for the ‘relic’ (whatever that was) souvenirs that Idrias wanted to ensure were delivered to his allies, Malzahir examined them briefly but didn’t see anything special about them. Lots of books from a language he didn’t understand, strange mechanical items that don’t even seem able to work anymore, and more useless junk.

‘Was this stuff really worth dying for…?’ Malzahir thought in puzzlement as he held up a light purple crystal that was glowing faintly. From the objects Idrias obtained in this relic, it was the only thing that seemed to have any energy remaining.

He sighed, tucking it back into the ring. He didn’t understand its purpose, but it wasn’t his place to question it. He had a task to complete, and he would see it through—no matter how pointless it seemed.

But as the time dragged on, it was getting harder and harder to retain that conviction. The longer he walked, the more he could feel exhaustion creeping into his bones. His limbs ached, his breath was growing shallow, and his mind had started to dull. He wasn’t built for this climate. He wasn’t built for this endless, frigid directionless march toward an unknown destination, looking for people he wasn’t even sure were still alive.

He couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he’d left Idrias.

Had it been a day? A week? More? The frozen landscape played tricks on his mind, stretching even short distances into what felt like miles. No matter how far he went, the scenery remained unchanged. No landmarks, no destinations. Just ice and wind and nothingness.

Suddenly, a deep, thunderous boom shattered the silence and the ground beneath his feet began to shake violently.

Then, without warning, the earth split open.

Just ahead, the snow began to collapse inward, as if the ground supporting it was disappearing. A massive crater formed within seconds, widening, deepening—a sinkhole stretching further and further, swallowing everything in its path.

Malzahir scrambled back, his limbs slow and uncoordinated. He turned and began to waddle away from the ever-expanding hole. Unfortunately, the snow made it it almost impossible to move quickly, and he fell repeatedly, his body slamming into the cold, hard ground. Each time, he forced himself back up, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The sinkhole was gaining on him, and he could feel that just seconds after he left a spot, it would crumble away to nothingness.

“Ah! No!” With the sinkhole already close behind him, he lost his footing again at the worst timing.

But just when he was certain it would and swallow him whole, eyes closed in resignation, it stopped.

Panting, Malzahir collapsed onto the snow, his chest heaving. For several moments, he did nothing but stare up at the bleak, gray sky, his mind blank.

Then, cautiously, he turned his head and looked back.

There was nothing.

No land, no snow, no ground to stand on. Just an endless void stretching beyond sight, a black abyss that seemingly had no bottom.

“What… what is this?” he whispered, his voice trembling. He crawled closer to the edge, peering into the darkness. The lack of light and endless depth gave him the illusion that hundreds of creatures hidden in the dark were staring at him, waiting for him to fall into their open mouths.

Malzahir shuddered at the mental image.

This place truly was hell!