Snow.

  The fire that enveloped the Ranger's corpse had started to splutter out after consuming most of her when something small, cold, and damp hit Nathan's exposed shoulder, the sensation snapping him out of his thoughts.

  He looked up and, sure enough, it seemed like winter had truly begun. The white icy flakes had started to descend from the sky, not really too much at a time, just a moderate amount. It wasn't going to start covering the ground for a few hours at most.

  The timing of the snowfall made him frown in consideration. It was supposed to have started five days into the apocalypse according to the weather forecast he'd seen before he'd been teleported to the island. Sure, he didn't really mind.

  Just something to take our minds off the loss.

  Nathan inhaled; the air was certainly getting chillier with each passing day, but at the moment it didn't bother him one bit even though he was shirtless. The cold didn't bother him at all, and he didn't expect it to anyway. Diane, on the other hand, was something else. He saw the way the girl shuddered; it had looked involuntary, like the priestess had also been snapped into the present by the snowflakes.

  Pirlo was unperturbed, Ciara sported a grim smile, and so did Daniel and Tasha. Those he'd fully expected to see. Ruben, on the other hand, had no visible expression on his face, which felt alarming to Nathan for the most part, but the Berserker thought it was best to leave everyone to deal with the loss in their own way. Sure, the silence from the Berserker was totally unexpected, but at the same time, he was happy that the teen had chosen to respect their unspoken call for silence as the fire consumed the corpse of their comrade.

  The fire seemed to have reached the end of its lifespan as it had completely consumed the corpse. It spluttered out, leaving only a scorched dirt patch with ashes there. Nathan held back the urge to sniffle as he wiped away the tears from his eyes, his movement copied by the other members in the squad. Soon after, the awkward silence was broken by none other than the blabbermouth—Ruben.

  "I'll miss her," Ruben said softly. "Uhmm, what are we doing next, guys?"

  While Nathan believed that the wording of the Berserker was a little crass, it seemed like both he and the others gathered around had all wanted to ask the same question but were trying not to be the first to break the respectful silence. Ruben had no such feelings.

  The Berserker was openly staring at Nathan—Nathan who'd indirectly caused the death of Yola. That was one of the reasons why he'd held back from speaking first. He didn't feel worthy to lead; he didn't want to be the one to break the silence for the rushed funeral they'd had for the Ranger that his inaction had just killed.

  "We loot," Nathan said quietly.

  What else was left apart from that? The bodies of the demons wouldn't contain anything, that was for sure, but the miners looked like they'd have some valuable items on them. Especially since they were wearing actual clothes compared to the demons who'd been completely naked. Of course, with their body type, it wouldn't have been surprising to find out that their skin was actually their armor.

  "Let's start from the dead bodies. We loot them all, and then we pile them up and light them on fire when we're done," Nathan said.

  Different members of the squad responded with varying levels of enthusiasm, which was totally expected. Even he himself felt a little bad jumping straight from cremating the Ranger to looting the corpses of their foes, but it was something that had to be done, especially since the corpses were definitely going to soon start smelling and decaying the longer they delayed the task. With nothing more than a grim smile, he made the first move, breaking away from the group as he made his way back into the hall where the body of the dead Commander lay.

  He needed some space right now, and he didn't need their eyes staring at him while he looted. He'd stay in the portal while they worked. Their acceptance of his decision to leave the squad back then might seem reasonable right now, even to them, but he knew that it'd only be a matter of time before one or two members start to have wayward thoughts—thoughts like they'd made the wrong choice letting him lead them. Perhaps Ciara would've gone with an entirely different tactic that wouldn't have split them up if he had been out of the picture.

  The price of leadership.

  Nathan grimaced at the thought. So much he'd done within the last couple of weeks had seen his resolve tested in different ways, but he'd persevered, and while this case was a little different, he'd get through it. He'd do it for Yola; she'd trusted him till the very end. That had to surely count for something.

  "It has to," Nathan mumbled as he walked toward the Commander's corpse.

  The smell of blood and death had become so common to Nathan that he didn't bother registering it once he got to the corpse. He stared at the decapitated head of the Commander. Nathan would never be like the dwarf; it'd tried to flee the moment it had spotted him. A coward of a Commander. Deep in his heart, Nathan knew he'd rather die on the field with his faction members than let them die with him fleeing with his tail tucked between his legs.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts. Maybe he was overthinking things and the dwarf had made the right call but had just been unfortunate enough to encounter someone like Nathan who was determined to kill him. Either way, the Commander was dead, and Nathan was done thinking about a dead dwarf.

  He rifled through the dead Commander's corpse looking for any items that would've been of help to him. So far, he'd only managed to find a key and a bag of holding. Not the best of hauls, but he kept searching the corpse for anything else. It turned out that there was nothing else on the Commander.

  A key that unlocks something I have no idea about and a bag of holding that I have no idea of the contents. Just my luck.

  The finds weren't bad, just that their immediate use wasn't so clear. On one hand, the key could unlock something really useful, or it could just be the key to the Commander's rest room. On the other hand, the bag of holding was also in the same boat—there could be a pizza in it, and he still wouldn't know. Sure, he could still use it to store more stuff in it, but he had no idea what the Commander had actually stored in it. A part of him reasoned that there must have been a way for him to eject everything in the bag of holding, but the system hadn't shown him how.

  The squad probably know how.

  If there was a way, then he was sure that the squad would know how. Once again, the information he lacked from attending the tutorial was screwing him over after all this time, but he'd made it so far without it that he wasn't sure he'd have changed his decision if he could go back. Another observation made him frown: he didn't get coins for killing monsters that could clearly save coins like him; he only got their level worth, which kind of made a bit of sense if he was being honest, but at the same time, it made the system seem greedy.

  Way too greedy.

  On the other hand, it reinforced his assumption that the system didn't want anyone to become overpowered without working for it. If he only had to kill monsters like the Commander and Demon Lord to get a bucketload of Ra'ahal coins, then that would mean the apocalypse was still hammering down on the weaker humans, making their already terrible situation worse. It'd only be a matter of time before the old ways of running the world returned—the only difference would be rich lords sitting down getting fat while making those beneath them do all the dirty work.

  No, this way was much better. This world was made for the hard workers, for the fearless, for the brave, and if the decapitated corpse beneath him was any indicator, then Nathan had picked the right path, and this apocalypse would be nothing more than his grand opening. While others would cower, he'd be on the frontlines fighting, blade in hand and heart on his sleeve; nothing would stop him. He'd become the very best. He'd gotten a second chance at life; the apocalypse had hit the reset button on the progress bar of everyone's lives, and it was up to him to decide how far and how fast he wanted to rise. For Nathan, he knew that he'd never be satisfied with anything other than making it to the very top.

  Man, I should really consider becoming a motivational speaker. How do I even think about all this shit?

  Nathan chuckled at the thought before going over the Commander's corpse again. Once he confirmed that there was nothing else on the Commander, he stood to his full height, and with a look of disgust, he picked up the corpse. With barely a whiff of hesitation, he kicked the decapitated head out of the Portal hall like it was a football. The Commander didn't deserve his respect after its attempt to flee; heck, he could think of a Master Imp or two that he respected more than the dwarf.

  With his search completed, he moved out of the hall, tossing the headless corpse out into the open ground of the settlement. He didn't bother being gentle with the corpse. With the dead weight off his shoulder, he glanced around. The rest of the squad were far off, each looting different corpses at different corners of the settlement. Still not ready to have a conversation with the rest of the squad, he decided to pay the corpse of the Demon King a visit.

  Maybe something will come of that.

  Nathan scoffed at the thought, but his legs were on the move regardless of his thoughts on the matter. The path to the entrance of the camp was littered with corpses and soaked with blood, most of which Nathan had been responsible for. The thought caused him to grin for a moment.

  He highly doubted that the Level 2 version of him would've made it out alive from a situation like this, let alone being responsible for decimating more than half of the opposing forces. He'd definitely made a lot of progress, and this was one of the few things he liked about the apocalypse. While in the days, weeks, months, and years before the apocalypse, he'd evaluated his life every morning and wondered if he was actually making progress, he didn't have to do so when it came to the apocalypse. The results so often spoke for themselves; he didn't need to question himself when he could see what he was able to do by himself.

  "Pipe down," Nathan muttered to himself. "Hopefully I don't get a big head from hyping myself up."

  The corpse of the Demon Lord soon came into view, and Nathan couldn't help but wince at the sight. He involuntarily reached for... a part of his body before he stopped himself, his hand barely going half the journey before he pulled it back. The Demon Lord's skull had caved in at the spot where Nathan's fist had met it, and while the sight was indeed gruesome, it wasn't the one that had made his body move involuntarily.

  The reflex action had kicked in once he spied the strike he'd landed on the Demon Lord that had changed the tide in their fight—the strike that had started from between the muscular legs of the demon, ending in its chest, almost completely dissecting the demon that had most likely foolishly chucked almost all its points into strength instead of sharing it a bit like Nathan had done. From the looks of things, the Demon Lord didn't carry anything unless it was up its ass.

  Well, not necessarily true—it had pointed that shiny object at me.

  A token. Nathan's entire being shivered at the thought. If the so-called demon had tried to call on a higher being than itself and had been ignored, then what exactly was going on? Nathan shook his head. First off, he needed to find the shiny object to confirm if it was really a Token. Like a madman, Nathan dropped to the floor searching frantically, but no matter where he looked, it seemed like the shiny object had disappeared.

  No, it couldn't have. I watched it fall to the floor, so where could it be?

  ---

  The Token pulsated in a squad member's pocket, promises were whispered in the member's ears, and it was all the member could do to keep tuning it out and continue looting other corpses.