The Frozen Champion's Trial
The boss spoke slowly, its gaze fixed on me.
An undead — a draugr, and a fairly high-tier one at that. When you thought about it, it was essentially an evolved form of a skeleton or zombie.
“Hm.”
Considering what would have normally appeared here was a demon, the opponent was clearly an easier one. But a draugr was no pushover either. For someone like me, who had only just begun to perceive mana, it was a formidable foe.
“Do you intend to fight?”
“I have to.”
Still, giving up was never on the table. Coming all this way only to clear the dungeon by borrowing Tarian's strength would amount to nothing less than throwing away my chance to grow.
“That sword……”
“Oh, this?”
The moment I gripped the hilt tightly and stepped forward, the draugr's gaze turned to me.
“You, felled, the warrior, who guarded, the entrance.”
I shrugged under the draugr's sunken stare.
“I, am, different.”
“We'll find out.”
“You, dare, challenge me, the great, northern, warrior?”
“I dare.”
The instant those words left my mouth, the draugr's figure vanished.
‘……Above me!’
The draugr had leapt in a heartbeat, swinging its massive greatsword down with tremendous force.
KWAANG—!
The ice beneath us shattered, fissures spiderwebbing across the floor. I'd evaded the blow by the barest margin with Frost Step, and watching me do it, the draugr's lips split into something like a grin.
“You, dodged, that.”
“Ha, is it because you've been dead for so long? You're slow as molasses!”
Even as I taunted it, I was already driving straight toward the creature. Big swings always leave openings.
‘I can see it. Clearly.’
Besides, this thing was weaker than Tarian. Which meant it was worth a shot.
With that judgment made, I closed in on the draugr and swung my sword.
KAAANG—!
It felt like striking something unyieldingly solid. My opponent was undeniably strong — even though it hadn't bothered to block, my hand stung worse than its own would have.
‘This won't be easy.’
The moment I thought that and pulled back to create distance—
“Annoying, gnat!”
The draugr swung its sword in a great arc.
“Ugh…!”
THWUNG—
The instant I deflected that heavy blow, channeling the essence of Northern Swordsmanship, I felt the world around me shift. A single strike — that was all it took to send me flying through the air.
“He's insane.”
“Take, it, as, a compliment!”
The draugr surged after me midair, raising its sword for another massive swing. An attack I wouldn't have even been able to react to in the past — but now, I could see it.
‘Mana.’
How the creature shaped its exchanges. How much force lay behind each strike.
‘Once you can see it, everything changes.’
The instant my feet touched the ground, I pushed off in the opposite direction — straight toward the very sword that had been trying to carve me in two, using its own momentum against it.
WHUUM—
The blade passed just barely over my lowered body, and I used that instant to aim for its legs with my own sword.
Crude, heavy, and solid — pouring everything I'd honed of Northern Swordsmanship into the strike.
“That, tickles!”
KA-duk.
My blade still refused to sink in properly. But it wasn't as if I'd failed to land damage.
‘A scratch.’
A scar clearly remained where my sword had passed. The moment I saw it, I understood.
‘This thing's senses are dulled.’
Nothing like the demons, which moved fast enough that not even a scratch could be left on them. The draugr likely couldn't feel pain at all. And that was precisely why I smiled as I watched it swing all the harder.
“Found it.”
An opening.
Slipping just barely past the descending greatsword, I went for the shoulder this time.
KAANG—!
A sharp ring, and my blade rebounded away. But once again, a mark remained.
“You, troublesome, insect!”
Perhaps because I was evading it so handily, the draugr began swinging its greatsword wildly in every direction. I watched the display with steady calm.
‘One clean hit and I die.’
That was no exaggeration. I could see it swinging with genuine killing intent. The mana coursing through its blade rippled, scattering shards of ice in all directions.
And yet, watching those devastating strikes, I couldn't help but smile.
“This is fun.”
“Show, the, bearing, of a warrior!”
Apparently displeased with my constant dodging, it swung its sword wide once more.
“Who's going to get hit by swings that telegraphed?”
Grinning, I slipped past the blade again. Frost Step, which let me glide across flat ground, was even more effective on this frozen surface — faster here than on open plains. I crossed short distances as though blinking from one point to the next.
KA-duk—
Scar after scar accumulated on the draugr's body. None of my strikes had sunk in cleanly yet, but the marks were multiplying — and that fact was what mattered.
“No, more, leniency.”
The draugr's expression warped, whether out of fury at that fact I couldn't say. A demoniacally twisted face — and on top of it, the flow of its mana had changed from before.
THWUNG—
It came charging at me again. Its pattern hadn't shifted much. But something was undeniably different.
‘It's fast.’
Faster and stronger than before.
KWAAK—!
Massive cracks split apart the shattered ice floor in an instant.
“My lord!”
Tarian moved to intervene, but I shook my head.
“Stay out of this.”
This was my fight.
Immediately, I searched for an opening through Frost Step.
‘None.’
I couldn't see a single gap.
So what? What was I supposed to do about that?
“Hnngh!”
KA-KA-KAK—!
I clenched my sword and caught the oncoming assault. It was a barrage I could barely parry. But I gripped my hilt tight, squeezing out every drop of the crushing weight Northern Swordsmanship possessed.
Peeing—
Sometimes I evaded.
KAAANG—
Sometimes I blocked.
KA-duk—
And all the while, I never missed a chance to drive in a strike of my own. Everything I'd learned from Tarian, everything I'd picked up sparring with the soldiers, and beyond that, everything I'd realized through solitary training — I threw it all into weathering the draugr's assault.
“Hah… huu……”
My heart felt ready to burst. From staring at mana flow for so long, it felt like blood was about to pour from my eyes. And yet my mind was utterly serene.
‘The effect of Cold Heart, huh.’
I'd been right, as I'd suspected. Any ordinary person would have collapsed by now — but even in this state, my mind simply observed the battle in perfect stillness.
‘Block with Northern Swordsmanship, strike the blind side with Frost Step.’
Beneath it all lay Cold Heart, holding everything steady. I had, in effect, completed the fundamental northern warrior build.
As I marveled inwardly at the far greater-than-expected synergy, the draugr rumbled low.
“You, endure, well.”
The draugr — the ancient great northern warrior — still stood unharmed. But I could judge the situation with perfect clarity.
“Endure? Me?”
Was that really so?
Charging at me again, the draugr landed a blow I couldn't fully evade — a small gash opened on my shoulder. I felt the biting sting of it, but my face never twisted. On the contrary—
THUD—
“There it is.”
“Hm?”
Before the puzzled voice had even faded—
CRACK—
Fissures began spreading across the creature's body.
“……!”
Even the draugr, which had been charging to split Ian in two, faltered in shock — and watching it unfold, Tarian couldn't hold back his admiration.
‘So this is how he chooses to break it down.’
It was a different approach entirely from their sparring sessions. Absorb and evade the opponent's offensive, drag them into a mutual war of attrition. Beneath it all lay the exquisite footwork of Frost Step and the composure maintained by Cold Heart — and a Northern Swordsmanship that had hardened even beyond what Tarian had seen in their duels.
“A monster.”
Now he was certain. Ian had surpassed genius. He was a monster. There he stood, smile spreading wide, gazing at the draugr as if to swallow it whole.
‘Is he watching to learn something, even now?’
The thought sent a chill down Tarian's spine. In that moment of danger, when any man would prepare to leap in, Ian had treated even this instant as an opportunity to train — and worse, had seen his purpose through to flawless success. Tarian found himself wondering whether anything like it had been possible when he'd been Ian's age.
‘He's mad. Completely mad.’
No matter how he turned it over, Tarian could only conclude: Ian Rashid was a madman.
“You, aimed, for this, warrior.”
“Quite composed, aren't you? I figured you'd be furious.”
Meanwhile, the draugr — having inspected its body here and there — fixed its gaze on Ian. A being that had existed under the mandate of guarding this space for ages, now transformed into a draugr. But it, too, had been a northern warrior. One who knew all too well that nothing was more foolish than raging at one's own mistakes.
“Your, goal, is Frostfang, is it not?”
“Figured you'd know right away.”
“Your, gaze, betrays, you……”
Ian stared straight at the draugr. The battle with the boss before him had pushed his combat instincts nearly to their limit. Beyond that, the covenant, the weapon overflowing behind it — there were many rewards to be had here, but the most crucial of them all was Frostfang, planted at the center of the chamber.
It resembled a razor-sharp icicle, honed to a killing edge.
‘Just looking at it sends frost through my bones. Mana like this…’
For Ian, who had only just awakened his mana, it was a weapon carrying precisely the option he needed most.
Hearing those words, the ancient great northern warrior clenched its own greatsword tight.
“This sword, bears, the soul, of the North. A sacred, armament. If you, want it — prove, yourself.”
“I was already—”
—planning to.
Even as he said it, sword in hand, Ian shot forward like an arrow. Given that the draugr had taken the offensive every exchange until now, this was as good as a first.
‘But.’
Unlike in the past, Ian now had the initiative in his own hands. All the more so on a battlefield ringed in ice on every side.
KAAANG—!
Accelerating in an instant with Frost Step, Ian unleashed a lightning-fast thrust. Ice shards scattered from the body of the great warrior who had only barely managed to catch the strike with his enormous greatsword.
“With, this much—!”
“You won't fall, will you?”
As though he'd known all along, Ian began accelerating further. He knew better than anyone — he had poured time into Frost Step alone, without missing a single day, after all. How to move even faster. How to bring it into combat.
‘And how to deceive the enemy with it.’
Ian, who had been driving straight ahead, slid off at a diagonal — and swung his sword in the same breath.
SCHWAAK—
A sensation unlike anything before — the feel of actually cutting into something. When Ian lifted his head slightly at that feeling, what he saw was…
“Ha, young, warrior.”
…the great warrior looming over him, massive greatsword raised. One clean hit from that thing and not even his bones would remain. The instant Ian moved to fall back—
CRACK-CRACK—
With a sound far greater than before, the fissures riddling the great warrior's body split even wider.
“You, have, won.”