Chapter 41

The air is crisp but calm. Snow lines the rooftops like quiet witnesses. Kalt XVIII stands awkwardly in a loose tunic, clearly uncomfortable. Across from him are Astera and Lily, both dressed for training, arms crossed, expressions somewhere between amused and serious.

Kalt XVIII
(voice cracking slightly)
I’ve never… actually trained before. I mean, I took etiquette classes. Sword stance theory. I can recite ten ways to survive a duel—verbally.

Lily
(smirking)
Then today’s lesson is: don’t talk. Move.

Astera
(nods)
You’re the King of Raureif now. Which means you need to know how to at least look like you can defend yourself. We're not expecting Emrys-tier swordplay here, just... survival instincts.

Kalt XVIII
(staring at the wooden practice blade handed to him)
This is humiliating.

Lily
No, it’s adorable. Now swing at me.

Kalt XVIII
You’re… sixteen.

Lily
And ranked #2 in the universe. Come on, snow prince. Show me what you’ve got.

Kalt sighs and makes a stiff, hesitant swing. Lily dodges it easily with one step, flicks her finger, and knocks the blade out of his hand. It spins into a snowbank.

Astera
(smiling patiently)
You're tense. Loosen your grip, lower your shoulders. Fighting isn’t about fear—it’s about rhythm. Flow. Try again.

Kalt retrieves the sword. This time, Astera steps forward, raising his own practice blade. Their spar begins. It’s slower, more awkward—but with Astera’s coaching, Kalt starts to at least move. There are moments of progress, and moments of complete collapse—at one point, Kalt slips and faceplants directly into the snow.

Kalt XVIII
(muffled, face down)
I’m going to die. Right here. In the snow. With a splinter in my palm.

Lily
(teasing)
Not before you at least learn to block.

Time passes. Slowly, under the guidance of two of the universe’s strongest prodigies, Kalt begins to find his footing. Not in power—but in posture, breath, and presence.

Lily eventually steps behind him, adjusting his arm position, narrowing his stance. Astera stands opposite, slowly increasing the pressure with each pass.

Astera
(serious now)
No one expects you to fight like us. But you need to stop flinching like the whole universe is watching. Trust yourself. Trust your blood.

Kalt XVIII
(still catching his breath)
My blood… my blood is terrified.

Lily
Then start training it.

A moment of silence passes. Kalt lifts his sword again—this time, with less fear. Astera charges. Kalt parries. Just once. But it’s enough to shock them all.

Astera
(grinning)
Hey… not bad, Snow Prince.

Kalt XVIII
(eyes wide)
Did I just…?

Lily
(conspiratorially)
Do that again and we might just promote you to “Novice Beginner.”

Kalt groans. But when the sparring resumes, there’s a glimmer in his eyes—one of resolve, not resignation. Snow continues to fall, but it no longer settles like weight. It dances. It follows him now.