Surrender and Only Lose Half

Five Tier 2 icefield wolves? Supposedly the devilish first stage?

Sorry, I thought they were speed bumps.

Twirling the silver sword in his hand, Lynn calmly sheathed it.

As the crisp click of the sheath echoed, five wolf heads dropped to the ground in unison.

Their eyes were still wide and fierce, as if they hadn't even realized they were already dead.

“Without even realizing it, I've gotten this strong...” he mused with some emotion.

By the standards of his past life's game, Dawn, Lynn would easily qualify as a four-star purple card right now.

High DPS, plenty of health, capable of both AoE and single-target damage. Wasn't this a god-tier card for early-game progression?

Unfortunately, characters like this often fell off with version updates due to lacking stats, eventually earning them a spot in the “Jail” tier.

At the thought of his handsome face being photoshopped into various “Jail” memes in some tragic future, Lynn couldn't help but shiver.

“It's decided!” He held up his hand, squinting at the faint sunlight filtering through his fingers.

“First minor goal—by my first year at the academy, I will become a gold card with both the stats and the mechanics to match.”

Well, when he got back this time, he would just have to annoy that little shorty even more. Completely devoid of guilt, Lynn nodded to himself.

After quietly drafting “Lynn's Leveling Plan 1.0” in his mind, he skillfully began butchering the icefield wolves' carcasses.

Before long, he had extracted the magic crystals of the five magical beasts and laid them on the ground.

“I should... use them like this, right?” Lynn uncertainly picked one up and pressed it against the magical artifact on his wrist.

With a flash of faint blue light, the magic crystal crumbled into dust, and the pale blue numbers slowly changed.

【Participant: Lynn von Reinhardt】

【Current Victory Points: 25】

“...A single Tier 2 icefield wolf is worth five points? The champions in previous years only needed a few hundred points. Why does it feel like...”

“...it's not actually that hard?”

Why not... just aim for a thousand points first? Staring at the glowing magical artifact, Lynn set his “goal” with absolutely no self-awareness.

As it turned out, Lynn's big words—were spoken far too soon.

“What the hell, there are absolutely no monsters to kill here?!”

After wandering around the snowfield for hours and only encountering a nest of wild rabbits, Lynn's face was completely dark.

However ambitious he had been earlier, his face was now just as black from coming up completely empty-handed.

Even if low-tier magical beasts were nothing but speed bumps to him, the premise was—he actually had to run into them first!

You need a target before you can shoot an arrow!

“Damn it... I should have realized. How could this hunting competition only be a test of raw martial strength?”

Compared to pure combat, for the Northern clans who had hunted in the snowfields for generations since their ancestors, scouting, tracking, and trapping were far more profound disciplines.

Keenly avoiding all illusions to discern the tracks of prey from the slightest clues—this kind of ability was something Lynn, of course, naturally... lacked.

He sucked in a breath of cold air, contributing his part to global warming, and couldn't help but think:

As for the bet... could he surrender and only lose half?

That little shorty... would definitely look down on him, step on him, grind her fair, delicate sole against his face, and then—

“Ara~ Isn't this my most loyal little puppy for the next three years?~”

The blonde Saintess would tilt Lynn's chin up with her fair toes, waving her folding fan with a sinister, mischievous smile. She would deal a double-hit combo to a completely despondent Lynn.

“Kiss my toes and swear your allegiance to me.”

“Good boy~ There will be a reward~”

“Damn it, I don't want that kind of future!”

Lynn shook his head vigorously, snapping out of his despairing imagination. He looked around, trying to find any possible clue.

Perhaps even the heavens couldn't bear to watch any longer, because with this glance, he actually found something—

“...Footprints?”

He squatted down and poked the shallow paw prints in the snow.

“So small... doesn't look like a big creature. Strange... why does it look a bit like an icefield wolf?”

Lynn frowned.

Normal adult icefield wolves mostly possessed the innate skill “Snow-Walking Without a Trace.” After all, on this vast snowfield, if a mere Tier 2 magical beast brazenly left its tracks, higher-tier predators wouldn't hesitate to turn them into a snack.

Yet, the solitary, faint paw prints before him were completely at odds with the pack-dwelling habits of icefield wolves.

“They're pretty fresh...” He followed the stretching footprints forward.

The footprints became messy after skirting a low coniferous forest. On the snow, in addition to the tiny paw prints, there were several deeper drag marks.

Lynn looked up, following the direction of the marks. A small patch of snow had been packed down, forming a winding path that led toward a rugged rock face.

At the base of the rock face was an inconspicuous crevice, about half a person tall, partially hidden by dead shrubs.

“Well hidden indeed...”

He gripped his hilt, pressed himself sideways against the rock wall, and peered into the crevice under the cover of the shrubs.

The cave was small and dimly lit. An icefield wolf lay on its side in a crude nest made of dry grass—but it was entirely different from the five he had sliced through earlier. This one was pitifully thin, its greyish-white fur dull and lifeless, and its protruding ribs were faintly visible with every breath.

Beside its belly, three fluffy little things were nudging and squeezing against their mother's stomach, letting out soft, weak whimpers.

“Well, big sister, our meeting is a twist of fate. Looking at you, you probably can't catch any prey either.”

“Instead of starving to death here, why don't you turn into spring soil to help me out?~” Lynn drew his silver sword.

Sensing the arrival of a great enemy, the mother wolf stood up. Then, letting out a howl, it did its absolute best to—roll over?

“?”

It rolled over right by Lynn's feet in a completely natural manner, exposing its greyish-white belly.

The three little wolf pups followed suit, rolling over in unison to expose their pink little bellies, limbs in the air, tilting their heads to look at him.

Lynn: “...”

“Where are your manners, big sister?”