Chapter 14 - Winter's Cold Spar

The crisp winter air stung their lungs as Werf and Jil stood in the backyard, panting heavily. Their breath came out in wisps of steam, swirling in the cold morning air.

The ground beneath them was dusted with a thin layer of snow, their footprints marking where they had been training. Despite the chill, sweat glistened on their bronzed skin—proof of months of relentless effort.

Jil stretched, rolling her shoulders as she grinned. "Can you believe it? We've been training for four months already."

Werf wiped his brow, smirking. "Feels like longer."

The difference in their physiques was evident. Where before they had been scrawny, their bodies had become more defined—lean muscle outlining their arms and legs.

Their once sun-kissed skin now held a deeper bronze hue, hardened from hours spent under the sun and against the cold. Even their stances had changed.

They no longer fidgeted as much, their bodies naturally shifting into a balanced state, always prepared to react.

"Alright, you two," Hild called out, stepping onto the training ground. She was bundled in a thick, fur-lined cloak, but her stance remained as firm and imposing as ever. "Sparring time. Jil, you're up first."

Jil cracked her knuckles, stepping forward eagerly. "Finally."

Hild nodded. "Show me what you've learned."

Jil took a deep breath, lowering her stance. Unlike before, when she would simply rush forward with wild, unpredictable movements, there was now a sharp precision to her posture.

The wildness was still there, but it had become something more—controlled chaos.

Without warning, she lunged.

Hild stepped back just as Jil's fist shot forward. But instead of overcommitting, Jil used the missed punch to spin, pivoting on her back foot as she sent a roundhouse kick soaring toward Hild's ribs.

Hild barely blocked in time. "Good. You're flowing better."

Jil grinned, using the recoil from the block to twist into a downward strike with her elbow.

Hild deflected it, but Jil was already moving again, her body never settling in one place for too long.

She dashed in, then suddenly stopped mid-motion, shifting her weight and reversing her attack angle—a feint—one that almost worked.

Hild's eyes flickered with amusement as she dodged at the last moment, but the corner of Jil's knuckles grazed her forearm.

Jil's movements were wild yet refined, like a dancer weaving between rhythms. Her strength came from her fluidity, from her ability to change direction instantly, breaking the flow of conventional combat.

She adapted to Hild's movements, never striking the same way twice. Her footwork had improved tremendously, allowing her to weave through attacks with an almost instinctual grace.

She dropped low suddenly, sweeping at Hild's legs, forcing her to leap back. Instead of stopping, Jil flipped backward onto her hands, using her momentum to push herself back into a standing position in an instant.

She flowed like water, her body shifting from one movement to the next.

Hild's smirk widened. "Impressive. You're using your instincts better."

Jil grinned, feeling the rush of combat. "I'm not done yet."

She closed the distance with a quick burst of speed, throwing a barrage of rapid punches. Hild parried them, but Jil wasn't aiming to land a clean hit—she was setting up for something else.

At the last second, she twisted her body, sending a powerful spinning back kick toward Hild's midsection.

Hild blocked it but slid back slightly from the force. "Your control has improved, but—"

Jil suddenly lunged forward, aiming a rising knee toward Hild's chin. Hild twisted her body, narrowly avoiding the strike, but Jil transitioned mid-air, shifting into a downward axe kick that forced Hild to deflect quickly.

Jil didn't stop. She flipped off her landing foot, aiming a rapid low sweep, then pushed off her palm to send a twisting elbow strike at Hild's side. Hild barely parried the attack, a flicker of surprise flashing in her eyes.

Snow burst around them as Jil continued her relentless assault. Every motion led into the next, a never-ending sequence of shifting strikes, her instincts guiding her like a predator in the wild. She had refined her natural unpredictability into a true combat style.

Hild smirked, impressed, before she finally moved. A blur of motion.

In an instant, Hild vanished from Jil's vision.

Jil barely had time to react before she felt a tug on her wrist—Hild had redirected her momentum, using it against her.

In an instant, Jil was thrown off balance, and before she could recover, Hild swept her legs out from under her.

Jil hit the ground hard, panting. Snowflakes drifted onto her face as she stared up at the sky. "Ow."

Hild offered her a hand. "Your fighting style is unique. Unrestrained, unpredictable. But you still lack stability."

Jil pouted but took Hild's hand, getting back on her feet. "So what, I need to be more rigid?"

Hild shook her head. "No. You just need to find a way to make your instincts your foundation, rather than relying purely on momentum."

Jil exhaled, stretching out her arms. "Alright. I'll work on it."

Hild turned toward Werf. "Your turn."

Werf swallowed, stepping forward as Jil moved aside. The cold wind blew across the backyard, the faint sound of rustling trees in the distance.