Chapter 46: Training: Beyond the Manual’s Reach!
The hall erupted into a flurry of motion.
The woman moved like a blizzard, her spear not just a weapon but a relentless force of nature. She didn’t give him a second to adjust.
She moved in a blur, her spear whistling through the air with a speed that made Soren’s hair stand on end. He barely managed to bring his own weapon up in time.
Clang!
The force of the impact vibrated through his bones, nearly numbing his fingers. He tried to pivot, but she was already there, her weapon darting like a silver serpent. Every time he tried to find a rhythm, she shut him down with a clinical, cold efficiency. There was no breathing room. She kept him on the back foot, forcing him to move and react until his lungs felt like they were on fire.
"You are too stiff," she said, her voice calm and level even as she launched a flurry of staccato thrusts. "Stop trying to force the movement."
Soren grunted, parrying a strike aimed at his chest.
He then tried to manifest the first form, gathering his mana at the tip of the blade, but the technique collapsed before it could even form. And the distraction cost him. She stepped into his guard and slammed the shaft of her spear into his shoulder, sending him stumbling back.
"Again," she commanded, her expression indifferent.
He reset his stance, sweat dripping into his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, he lunged forward, aiming for a quick strike, but she swerved around him like a ghost. He tried to trigger the technique again, but it felt like trying to catch smoke with his bare hands.
"You are forcing it," she spoke, her voice echoing in the quiet hall. "Just stop overthinking it."
She came at him with a relentless overhead strike. Soren didn’t have time to retreat. He stopped trying to remember the exact wording of the manual and simply let the freezing pressure of her presence sink in. He felt the ambient cold in the room and pulled it into his core.
’Don’t force it... Feel it...’
As she moved for the finishing blow, Soren’s body and mind finally clicked together.
’I got it!’
He twisted his hips, his spear arm snapping forward with a sudden, crystalline focus.
[First Form: Frost Piercing Thrust!]
The spear tip vanished into a streak of white light. A jagged surge of frost energy exploded from the point, piercing through the air with a sharp, cracking sound.
The woman’s eyes widened slightly as she tilted her head, the frost from the technique actually crystallizing the air an inch from her skin.
"Good!"
She chuckled while parrying the thrust with a flick of her wrist and immediately swept her weapon toward his ankles to capitalize on his momentum.
Soren didn’t fight the force of the parry. He leaned into it, letting the energy of the first strike roll into his shoulders. He spun his entire body in a violent, grounded rotation.
[Second Form: Glacial Sweep!]
A massive crescent of frost erupted from his blade.
The wave of slicing ice cut through the air with a low roar, leaving a visible trail of white frost across the floor. The woman was forced to leap back, her boots grazing the top of the freezing arc as she narrowly avoided the blast.
Soren finished the rotation and planted his spear, his breath forming a thick cloud of vapor in the sudden cold.
She landed softly, holding her spear loosely at her side. For the first time, her blank expression cracked, showing a hint of approval.
"Nice job."
"Huff... Huff..."
Soren took a few more deep breaths, waiting for his racing heart to calm down. The adrenaline was still pumping, but the exhaustion was finally settling in. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and looked at the woman.
"Thank you," he managed to say, still breathing hard.
The woman didn’t lower her weapon. Instead, the corner of her mouth twitched into a faint smile.
"Don’t thank me yet," she said, her voice quickly regaining its usual cool edge. "We aren’t stopping until you can use those forms as naturally as breathing. Again."
"Understood," Soren replied, tightening his grip on the spear.
Actually, he understood her point perfectly. While fighting monsters had helped him build raw strength and quick reflexes, those battles completely lacked the precision and psychological pressure of a real duel against an intelligent opponent.
Against slimes or even fissure hounds, he could afford a sloppy movement. Here, a single misstep meant a spear shaft to the ribs or being sent flying. He needed this exact intensity to bridge the gap between knowing the moves and actually mastering them.
He took another deep breath, centering himself.
"I’m ready."
"Come," she beckoned.
They clashed again.
For the next two hours, the hall echoed with the steady clatter of spears striking against each other. They took short breaks every now and then, giving Soren just enough time to recover a sliver of his mana and catch his breath before she dragged him right back into the fight.
However, each time they restarted, she pushed him harder, forcing him to execute the Frost Piercing Thrust and Glacial Sweep under increasingly difficult angles.
By the time the session finally drew to a close, the sun had shifted significantly outside.
Soren’s legs finally gave out.
He collapsed onto the floor, his spear clattering beside him. He lay there flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his body soaked in sweat and his muscles screaming in protest. He was completely spent, but for the first time, the first two forms of the Glacial Edge felt like they were truly his. He even started to comprehend the third and final form.
"Huff... Huff..."
The woman stood over him, looking down with her usual blank expression, though her eyes held a brief flicker of recognition.
"Clean yourself up," she said, turning to walk away. "And meet me outside. We need to have a talk."
"Huff... U-Understood..."
Soren managed to get the words out, his voice barely a whisper.
He stayed on the floor for a few minutes, waiting for the ringing in his ears to stop and the strength to return to his shaky limbs. Once he felt like his legs wouldn’t immediately buckle, he pushed himself up, grabbed his spear, and headed to the locker room.
The cold shower was exactly what he needed. He washed away the grime and sweat, feeling the deep ache in his muscles dull to something manageable. By the time he dried off and changed into clean clothes, he finally felt human again.
He stepped out of the training hall and found her leaning against the wall, staring off into the distance.
"Thank you for waiting. And, you were really great today, too."
"...Stop flattering me. And here, take this."
She didn’t even look at him as she tossed a cold juice can his way. Soren caught it with a quick snap of his wrist, the icy condensation feeling great against his pulsing palms. He took a long sip, watching as she pushed off the wall and walked toward a nearby sofa in the lounge, crushing her own empty drink.
He followed her and sat down opposite, wondering what this conversation was going to be about.
"Are you free the next few days?"
"..."
Soren’s hand froze with the can halfway to his mouth. His brain, already completely fried from two hours of high-intensity training, struggled to process the question into anything that wasn’t a tactical trap.
"H-Huh?"