Sliding Across the Frost

Quite a few things had changed since I won my sparring match against Tarian.

First and foremost, my proficiency had shot up in the blink of an eye.

It's already B-rank, after all.

At this level, I could hold my own well enough against even the family's soldiers.

My growth rate had climbed now that I was reliably fulfilling the Covenants of the Iron Sword, but the biggest factor was, without a doubt, sparring with Tarian.

Simply raising your proficiency and actually putting it into practice with your own body are two very different things.

Beyond that, my physique had grown stronger all around as well. Endless training no longer left me nearly as exhausted, and I could shift even a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠decent-sized boulder in a single effort.

Considering all the sweat I'd poured out to get here, it was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠result I couldn't help but feel good about.

Though it's a shame I still haven't landed a single hit on his face.

But if I kept building my skills this way, that moment wouldn't be far off either.

Today's sparring session was underway as usual.

A slow breath left my lips as I locked eyes with Tarian closing the distance. His presence was as overwhelming as ever — but unlike yesterday, my body no longer prickled with that numbing pressure.

If anything…

"Yeah, now this is more like it!"

It was fun. Every exchange made my improvement visible to the naked eye.

I weathered Tarian's properly swung blade, then slid my step sideways. A footwork that severed his rhythm entirely, as if gliding across ice.

Not letting the hairline gap that appeared slip away, I swung my sword straight into it.

Crack!

A sharp, clean strike. It was parried, but a grin forced its way onto my face anyway.

Like I thought — this is different from before.

Unlike every session so far, where I'd been driven onto the back foot, I could now actually hold my own in an exchange.

One of the biggest reasons for that was the skill I'd newly acquired.

Despite the description claiming only seasoned northern warriors could use it, Frost Step's reputation had never been particularly good.

With so many strictly superior evasion skills flooding the game, the community had written it off as trash.

But I knew better.

Combine it right, and it's actually pretty solid.

It had serious synergy with Northern Swordsmanship in particular. Northern Swordsmanship shattered the enemy's guard and broke openings wide open, while Frost Step slipped out of range and aimed for those brief gaps.

Thanks to that, exploiting an opponent's weak points became far easier.

Granted, I wasn't quite at the level to pull that off just yet.

"My lord, that was… Frost Step, was it not?"

"Yeah."

"From what I know, even those who trained for years struggle to make it look natural…"

I shrugged at the bewilderment dripping from his voice.

"Dunno. I just watched and it worked?"

"…Heh."

Tarian let out a short, incredulous breath. No excuse came to mind — and frankly, I didn't feel the need to make one.

"Young master…"

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, my lord."

He murmured it quietly, then gripped his own sword.

"Your swordsmanship has a solid foundation now, so I would recommend practicing it intensively from here."

"Oh."

"Do you have any objections?"

Before the sparring and after it, Tarian had never been one to meddle much. And yet here he was, laying out the direction of my training.

So he really is a teacher through and through.

It made trusting him and diving in headfirst feel worthwhile.

"I was thinking along the same lines. I plan to keep conditioning my stamina and strength alongside sword training."

"You will need to moderate your training volume."

With that, he fell into serious contemplation and began drafting a structured training regimen.

"That said, what you must focus on right now is footwork. Show me again."

As he tilted his sword invitingly, I stepped forward without hesitation. Gliding across ice, I closed the short distance in an instant.

"Like this."

Tarian had already angled his blade precisely where I was headed.

"Your direction is too honest. And your speed is not there yet."

"You're taking this seriously, huh. Different from yesterday."

"Naturally. I've staked my honor on it."

Tarian looked me straight in the eye.

"You will need to train your mana alongside everything else."

"Mana, huh."

Come to think of it, he was right. Now that I'd properly entered the world of swordsmanship, I couldn't become a knight without cultivating mana.

A swordsman who can't draw out sword aura is, for all intents and purposes, half a swordsman.

That said, fundamentals came first. Knowing that, I'd been deliberately shelving my curiosity about mana and grinding my basics instead.

"Footwork takes priority, of course."

"Yeah?"

"Young master, don't tell me…"

I smiled at the way he studied me so gravely. Tarian, meanwhile, seemed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to sense something had gone very wrong.

"Then let's get to it."

Just like when I'd learned swordsmanship.

And so the training began.

Training to master Frost Step was simple in concept.

Always with the one-sided commentary.

I suppose that's what happens when the swords were forged for training and nothing else. Not that I'd ever bothered trying to hold a conversation with them.

Anyway.

It was unmistakably a difficult Covenant.

But cracking something like this is the fun part.

If I were the type to quit when things got hard, would I have played Last Savior in the first place?

From that day on, I drilled Frost Step relentlessly to slip past the soldiers' blades.

"M-My lord, you truly want us to…?"

"Yes. Come at me."

"But if you were to be injured—"

"It's fine."

Tap—

Evading the swords of a full ten soldiers was, admittedly, no small feat.

"Ugh."

"Ah— f-forgive me, my lord!"

"Again."

The real problem was that the soldiers weren't Tarian. To be fair, expecting men like them to control their strength to a knight's standard was close to impossible.

So the more the training went on, the more bruises bloomed across my body.

"Again."

"Again."

"…Again."

And the more it repeated, the more I began reading the trajectories of their blades, until evasion grew steadily easier.

The training didn't stop there.

"Wh—running laps around the training grounds with Frost Step, my lord?"

"Going to try."

"Forgive me for saying this, but you are truly out of your mind."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Of course."

Running laps around the training grounds, heading to meals, retiring to my chambers — I moved everywhere using nothing but Frost Step.

Crash!

"Ugh."

At first, I felt like a newborn fawn taking its very first wobbly steps…

"My, it's nearly complete now."

"Does it look that way?"

"To think you'd actually pull it off. If I ever have another pupil in the future, I believe I'll try this exact method."

Is that actually a good idea?

Something tells me that would just earn you a string of terrible reviews.

Anyway.

As time passed, I grew more and more fluent with Frost Step. The wonder in Tarian's eyes was proof enough of that.

If I angle my step like this, I can move even faster, can't I?

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I uncovered a more efficient gait.

And there's no need to lock myself into straight lines, either.

Freed from the obsession with linear movement, I could now move as I pleased.

"Look at the young lord training that hard…"

"I'd better train harder too."

"Still, the young lord's growth rate… is that even possible?"

"He's still a long way from perfect evasion, mind you."

A nice side effect: the soldiers' morale had been stoked as well.

Good — you heard it, so all of you grow too.

The great Northern Invasion would arrive in five years. If the soldiers trained and grew of their own accord, that was nothing but good news for me.

As Frost Step matured, Tarian began teaching me the proper use of mana in earnest.

"It begins with sensing the mana suspended in the air around you."

Accumulating mana within the body, then training to wield that power. There was no legendary mana cultivation technique to speak of, but I wasn't particularly worried about that either.

I'll get one eventually anyway.

After all, I had the Covenants. So the only thing to do was what I'd always done — press forward without giving up. That required no worry at all.

This is fun.

Even in training like this, I was having an insane amount of fun.

And so I wove Frost Step into every corner of my daily life, dodged the soldiers' blades, and kept straining to feel the mana all around me.

Bruises on my body, skin splitting open and bleeding from time to time — none of it mattered.

Once footwork training is done…

This round of training stretched on for days as well. Dodging the soldiers' swords using only Frost Step gradually became second nature.

Whoosh—

The instant I stepped into Frost Step, a blade whisked past my side. A flicker of regret crossed the soldier's face — the same face that had been full of apology on day one.

"Haah!"

A cry rang out. I shifted my step and threaded cleanly through the gaps.

Just a little further.

The essence of Frost Step wasn't simply moving fast.

Footwork, at its core, was about wedging yourself into the enemy's opening at a certain distance. True to its name, Frost Step moved as though gliding over ice — but beneath it lay one overriding condition: softness.

Faster. Freer.

I pressed forward, turning over the insights I'd gained along the way. Sideways. Diagonal. At times, moving in ways impossible to predict.

Slipping past the blades flying in from every direction, I burst clean through the cluster of soldiers.

"Haah… haah…"

At the sword's single remark, my heartbeat thundered loud in my ears.

I'd done it.

That thought filled my head, and before I knew it, my hand had closed around the sword's hilt.

Hmm. So Northern Warrior really doesn't deserve to be treated as a meme build.

Probably because most players never understood how to actually use it. Northern Swordsmanship was defense-oriented — yet in the game, running it aggressively was treated as the standard play. Even the people who genuinely enjoyed the roleplay were, for the most part, deranged maniacs who tanked hits just to swing back.

That whole approach was wrong from the ground up.

Frost Step worked the same way — short-range evasion to manufacture openings. In the game it was locked to straight lines, but using it in reality, I found I could move freely in every direction.

Which naturally meant more options.

Made sense, really. It was the kind of information you'd never learn unless you moved your own body through it — and in the first place, the North was half-destroyed the moment the game started. Just learning skills properly was an ordeal.

If I add just a few more skills to this…

I found myself recalling the Northern Warrior build I'd briefly researched back in the day. A handful of skills to layer on top of what I had. Most of them had been fairly useless in the game, but now that it was reality, the odds were good that they'd be different.

And if I just get Cold Heart on top of it all…

My early build would be complete.

Cold Heart was, on paper, nothing more than a Normal-rank skill that blocked mental attacks. But if I actually mastered it, it would have another effect entirely.

"Whew."

Carrying that expectation with me, I raised my sword onto my shoulder.

"Alright — from now on, we're switching things up. I'll be attacking, so you lot dodge."

"M-My lord? Out of nowhere?"

"The training efficiency is great. It'd be a waste to keep something this good all to myself, wouldn't it?"

I rolled out the aches scattered across my body and looked the soldiers over.

Needless to say, I wasn't about to skip out on a little revenge, either.

Revenge, after all, is always sweet.