Edwin seized the chance to step back three paces, picked up the motionless Rust from the dirt, tucked the beetle inside his coat, and retreated to the rear of the group.
But the blow had enraged the jackal completely. Ignoring Edwin, it turned its gaze to Cecil. A low rumble rolled in its throat. Then it pushed off with all four paws and charged straight at him.
Cecil had no spirit‑beast to command. Gwendolyn was ten paces away, locked in combat with the other jackal. He held no weapon. Behind him stood four companions; to his left were dead trees, to his right the open clearing. The jackal’s jaws were only two steps away from his face.
He rolled sideways. Rough dirt scraped his shoulder and elbow, tearing a gash in the fabric of his old robe against the sharp gravel. The jackal missed its leap. Its claws raked the ground where Cecil had stood, carving two deep gashes into the earth.
"‑‑Cecil!" Freddy cried out.
Cecil pushed himself up from the ground. A burning pain shot through his left shoulder. The jackal gave him no time to catch his breath and lunged a second time, even faster than before.
The second lunge came faster than the first. Beneath the grey‑tinged daylight, the jackal’s fangs glowed icy‑white, aimed straight for Cecil’s throat. There was no time to roll away. The burning ache in his left shoulder had not faded, and the dirt beneath his feet had been loosened by his earlier tumble, robbing him of stable leverage.
Yet his right hand still worked.
Right hand. Cold.
Everything Gwendolyn had taught him flooded his mind in half a second‑‑gather, hold, release. That thin icy current in his chest raced down his right arm all the way to his fingertips, quicker than any of his previous practice, as though shoved forward by an unseen force. Without conscious thought, Cecil lifted his right hand, spread his fingers, and thrust his palm toward the jackal’s open jaws.
A cloud of white mist burst from his palm.
It was not dense, but it was bitterly cold. Tiny ice crystals crystallized in the air, like fragments of winter snow clutched in a fist and hurled forward. The mist poured precisely into the jackal’s mouth and nostrils. Mid‑leap, the beast stiffened entirely. Its eyes widened for a split second, a strangled whimper escaped its throat, and its body lost all strength, crashing down half a step in front of Cecil. Its paws twitched, and a thin layer of frost coated its muzzle.
Cecil stepped back two paces. The fingers on his right hand had turned pale‑white, numb as if submerged in ice‑cold water. He shook his hand. The cold faded, and colour slowly returned to his fingertips.
Silence hung behind him.
Then Freddy’s voice shattered the stillness, cracking with shock: "...What was that?"
"Cold frost?" Lydia’s tone was also strained, rapid and disbelieving, "He unleashed frost? That is a Spirit‑Beast ability‑‑how can a human possibly‑‑"
Oliver’s falcon Robin landed on a higher dead branch, tilted its head and stared at Cecil before letting out a short cry. Even Rust, the beetle that had been playing dead on the ground, flipped over and wiggled its two antennae upward.
Edwin gaped, struggling to form a complete sentence. "...When did you learn to do that?"
Cecil did not answer. Something else was unfolding right before his eyes.
Silver text surfaced deep within his consciousness, far more lines than before, arranged neatly in three rows as if drawn across dark water by an invisible finger.
[Combat Value: 32]
[Condition Met — First Life‑Threatening Trigger Activated]
[Host Attributes Unlocked]
The characters shifted and rearranged themselves.
[Infinite Divine‑Beast Awakening System]
Host: Cecil von Ashford
Currently Contracted Divine‑Beast: Gwendolyn (Sealed · Last Frost Dragon)
Divine‑Beast Unlock Progress: 1.3%
Current Combat Value: 32
Available Attribute Points: 1
Three bars appeared beneath the attribute‑point counter:
[Agility] — Unallocated
[Speed] — Unallocated
[Strength] — Unallocated
Cecil’s awareness lingered over the three options for a moment. Gwendolyn had once told him his body would grow stronger passively as her seal weakened, but that process would take time. This system, this unknown power, gave him the right to choose.
He focused his attention on [Agility].
A warm surge washed over him, stronger than the last time. It spread from his chest to every limb and joint, as if a thin layer of oil had been smoothed between his bones. He rotated his right shoulder; the pain remained, yet his range of motion had widened. His shoulder moved without stiffness, and his injured left forearm flowed more freely.
He clenched his right fist. Sensation returned to his fingers, only a faint chill lingering, no longer rigid.
"...He’s moving again," Oliver called out from behind. "His movements are faster‑‑did you all see that?"
Cecil paid no mind to his teammates’ astonished gazes. New movement stirred at the edge of the deadwood grove. The alpha jackal had not moved, yet from the shadows behind it, two more pairs of dull‑yellow eyes emerged. One, then two. They were slightly smaller than the earlier jackals, but now five humans faced five jackals.
Five. Including the alpha still beside the black boulder, there were six in total.
Cecil glanced toward Gwendolyn. She was locked in combat with the jackal whose front leg she had bitten, occupied and unable to come to his aid. He refocused on the two new arrivals, stepped half a pace back with his right foot, and lowered his centre of gravity.
A thought flashed through his mind: How much energy did that frost blast cost? Could he cast it a second time?
He had no answer. But the silver text flickered once more with new information:
[Ongoing Combat — Combat Value Accumulating]
[Current Combat Value: 34]
[Available Attribute Points: 1]
Another point.
Without hesitation, Cecil selected [Speed]. A second wave of warmth flooded his leg muscles and tendons, as if every ligament’s spring had been pulled taut. He tapped his right foot lightly against the ground. The feedback from the earth felt sharp and clear; he knew he could burst forward at any second, fast as a stone shot from a slingshot.
The two new jackals exchanged a glance, then charged at the same time.
They did not rush Cecil. They split left and right. The one on the left sprinted toward Freddy, while the right‑hand beast targeted Edwin, who was crouching down. Freddy’s weasel Turner bristled. Lydia’s Ivy had not yet retreated from the grass. Edwin had just bent to pick up Rust, his body still half‑stooped‑‑
Cecil moved.
This was his first full sprint boosted by both [Agility] and [Speed], and even he was stunned by his own velocity. Dirt rushed beneath his boots, the shadows of dead trees blurring on either side.
He intercepted the left jackal moments before it reached Freddy, driving his elbow hard into its side of the neck. The force was not overwhelming, yet it deflected the beast’s lunge by half a foot. Its jaws snapped shut on empty ground right beside Freddy’s boots, dirt spraying across his shoe.
"Fall back! Get Turner back!" Cecil shouted. Using the recoil from the collision, he pivoted and raced toward Edwin. The second jackal was already diving over Edwin’s head.
Edwin crouched, arms raised to shield himself. Rust flipped upright, spreading its wing‑covers and standing before its master‑‑the palm‑sized beetle, shell facing outward, stood firm against the jackal like a copper nail driven into the earth.
The jackal’s paw slammed down on Rust’s hard carapace with a dull thud. The beetle was knocked flying, bouncing off a dead tree trunk. But that split‑second block bought Cecil just enough time.
No frost this time‑‑his right hand had not fully recovered. He drove his left knee into the jackal’s soft side flank. The beast toppled sideways, rolled twice, then rose with an angry snarl.
Cecil landed steady, bracing one hand on the ground, stepping back with his right leg to shield Edwin behind his body.
Five paces away, the first deflected jackal also got back to its feet. The two new beasts closed in on him, one to his left, one to his right.
Further off, the jackal that had been frozen at the muzzle shook its head, trying to shake off the frost crusting its face. Gwendolyn’s battle neared its end; the jackal with the frost‑covered front limb staggered backward, its movements slow and crippled.
The alpha jackal still stood beside the black boulder.
It watched.
Cecil could feel its gaze pinning him down, cold and sharp as a thorn.
Meanwhile the silver text flickered again:
[Combat Value: 38]
[Available Attribute Points: 1]
A third point.
He chose [Agility] once more.
The instant the third wave of warmth flowed through him, Cecil’s perception shifted. Everything did not grow sharper‑‑time seemed to slow down.
He could see the left jackal lunge toward him as if swimming through thick water, trace how its shoulder muscles contracted as its paw lifted, watch the slight shift of its jaw as it opened its mouth. He even spotted the faint hazy glow along the edge of its shadow, ripples in the air created by its speed.
He took one tiny step to the right, just enough to slip out of the jackal’s attack path. At the same time, he drove his right fist forward from the beast’s blind spot, striking the underside of its jaw.
The blow carried far more power than his earlier strikes‑‑he had not invested points in [Strength], yet the combination of boosted [Agility] and [Speed] nearly doubled the kinetic force of his punch. The jackal’s jaw snapped shut, its teeth clicking sharply, and its head jerked violently upward.
Cecil did not pause. Pulling his right fist back, he drew the rust‑covered three‑copper knife from his belt. The blade was dull and corroded. Instead of using the cutting edge, he struck with the flat of the blade, slamming it against the jackal’s shoulder blade. The beast’s front leg buckled beneath the impact, and it collapsed to the dirt.
The second jackal pounced from behind. He could not see it, but he heard the rush of wind‑‑his heightened [Speed] had sharpened his hearing, letting him detect the shift of airflow at his back.
He dove forward and spun, holding the rusted knife horizontally. The jackal bit down onto the blade. Rust shavings scraped against its enamel with a shrill screech. Cecil pushed the knife forward to hold the beast’s jaws open, cold frost welling once more in the fingertips of his right hand.
This time he was prepared. He did not unleash all his power, gathering only fifty percent of the frost onto his fist before slamming it into the jackal’s nose.