Frozen resolve: The wrath of Seiryukori

"You'll face consequences if you underestimate him,"

a voice echoed in Gundrick's head.

It was his Zepharion speaking—a bond of spirit and blade unique to each person.

But Gundrick's only reply was a cold, narrow smile.

Without wasting a breath, he took a firm stance. Frost hissed around his feet as he murmured, awakening his sword…

"From the heart of the glacier where dragons slumber, rise with crystal breath and silent wrath—Seiryūkōri!"

A massive expanse of cold aura suppressed the training ground. The temperature plummeted. A frost dragon, shimmering like glass, coiled around Gundrick's arm. Slowly, a dark silver sword materialized in his grasp—its edge absorbing light rather than reflecting it, swallowing radiance into a silent abyss.

Far off, Kiato watched. After a pause of hesitation and reflection, he took a deep breath.

He had made his decision.

Today, he would push beyond limits, training combact skills.

He stepped forward, his stance rooted with tension. Cold air rippled around him. Awakened by will and fury, his Zepharion surged through his veins.

With a fierce cry, he shouted:

"Unleash the dragon's fury—Hinoyuki!"

Instantly, his dark hair flushed frost-blue. His cloak shimmered with a crystalline sheen, transforming into a dragon-scale-like armor of ice. A massive burst of aura exploded from his body, compressing the ground beneath his feet. The air rippled. From the skies, Hinoyuki descended—cloaked in black light and frost, the blade absorbing even shadow as it landed with authority in his grip.

Tension snapped in the air like lightning.

"That's one incredible spirit dragon you've got there, young man," Gundrick smirked, the breath of frost twining around his words. Yet even as he praised, his aura surged with calm confidence.

They both dashed forward—blades at hand, spirits flaring.

"The weapon of a frost-knight," Gundrick spoke mid-charge, "is patience and balance. Calmness and fortitude but above all- the mind!"

Clang!

Their swords collided. The impact sent a ringing shockwave across the arena, splitting snow and cracking stone. They each retreated on one foot, then attacked again—swinging, parrying, and striking in perfect rhythm.

"Think of your sword as an extension of yourself," Gundrick advised, voice steady as they clashed again, "but don't grip it so tightly you choke its spirit."

Kiato nodded faintly and lunged backward, adjusting his grasp. With one hand on Hinoyuki, he whispered:

"Icylash SMG."

A half-formed frost-gun constructed itself in his left hand. With a sharp flick, he unleashed a barrage of frost bullets toward Gundrick.

But Gundrick vanished.

"Flash Step!"

He reappeared behind Kiato in a blink, sword raised high, frost exploding off the tip.

Kaito reacted swiftly, parrying just in time with his blade. He immediately countered, transforming his Icylash SMG into an ice sword and swinging it toward Gundrick's head, even as it continued to materialize.

To his surprise, Gundrick caught it bare-handed, locking their arms and blades in a frozen cross of force.

"Huff..."

Both men exhaled deeply, forming condensed clouds of cold aura from their breath. With a synchronized roar, they released that energy in a blast.

The force flung them apart, skidding backward across the frost. Between them stood a rising wall of ice, cracked but unwavering.

"Shimo no Zankage — Frost Illusions!"

Gundrick activated his speed illusion technique. His body blurred—moving too fast for the eye to follow—leaving ghostly frost afterimages in his wake.

"Don't follow me with your eyes," he warned. "Follow my aura's intensity!"

Kiato focused, squinting as he scanned for energy surges. The moment Gundrick attacked, he reacted, blocking—but he was half a heartbeat too late. The strike connected and sent him crashing backward into the snow.

Panting, Kiato staggered to his feet.

"Let me show you the difference between a growing magic knight and a crowned noble," Gundrick said, lifting his blade with one hand pointed horizontally forward, his other gripping his elbow.

He bellowed with commanding resonance:

"Zettai Shōkai!" — Absolute Ascension.

Frost burst skyward.

Ascending absolute zero, Gundrick became wreathed in crystalline armor that looked grown, not forged—jagged, dragon-like scales along his shoulders and arms.

Seiryukori transformed—its blade becoming sleek and ethereal, glowing with pale, humming energy. His eyes flared ice-blue, and behind him, a massive spectral dragon coiled—a guardian made of mist and shards and in this form his aura was on a completely different level.

The air itself became his weapon. Frost swirled with every breath.

Kiato stood frozen—not from the cold, but from awe. He was staring not at a man, but at a myth.

Yet Gundrick wasn't finished.

He brought both hands together in a calculated gesture—some fingers touching, others curled and bent down like a ritual sigil. Aura poured from him in colossal waves. His cloak lifted on invisible winds, as if his body had become a storm itself.

"Hyōkai Shiha — Glacial Dominion!"

The world around Kiato changed. The sky above vanished. The earth below solidified into a mirror of ice. It was like standing inside a glacier itself.

He looked up and saw a frost dragon looming above… and atop its head—his father.

Gundrick's boots tapped softly down a staircase of frozen air as he descended from the dragon's crown.

"Maybe I took this too personal," he muttered, approaching Kiato with solemn pity.

"This is my domain," he continued, "and here, even the air is solid ice. Only I control the flow of oxygen."

Kiato gasped, clutching his chest, the pressure mounting.

The domain shimmered and faded as Gundrick released it—revealing the training ground once more. Kiato was collapsed on the floor, pale and breathless.

Gundrick turned toward the exit, his frost armor crackling and dimming. His presence softened—yet the monstrous aura remained, veiled beneath control.

"You fought well, my son. Catch your breath and steel yourself. We will resume in a day."

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes calm but stern.

"When you're able to lay damage on me, only then will I consider you ready for Gallus."

Then, he vanished—fading into the cold mist like a phantom.

Kiato lay still, snow falling on his face.

His fingers clenched.

"So this… this is the terror of a captain," he muttered, brushing ice off his brow, breath heavy.

But even in pain—his will burned.

"I'll suppress you one day father"

he sparked clenching his fist, his teeth shivering from his own frost and will and face covered in determination.