Chapter 906: Your sword is different
The training field remained partially covered in fine snow carried by the constant winds from the mountains of Asgard. The sky above was gray and heavy, and small frozen particles danced through the air as the metallic sound of clashing swords echoed repeatedly off the stone structures surrounding the elevated arena.
Xenovia advanced first.
The black sword cut through the air with brutal violence, leaving a bluish trail of energy as it descended toward Kryssia. The subsequent impact exploded in a wave of ice and metallic sparks as Kryssia immediately raised her crystalline sword to block the blow.
The ground beneath their feet cracked instantly.
Kryssia slid a few meters back on the frozen snow, her boots leaving deep marks in the soil as she absorbed the impact with increasing strength in her arms.
"...Your sword is different," she commented as she slowly pushed Xenovia’s blade aside.
Xenovia did not respond immediately.
She spun her body in the same motion and attacked again.
The second blow came horizontally.
Faster.
Heavier.
Kryssia narrowed her eyes slightly before blocking again with the ice sword, but this time the pressure was absurdly greater. The impact partially pierced her defense, launching frozen particles into the air as the weight of the black sword pushed her body back several meters.
The wind exploded around the two of them.
Xenovia maintained the pressure without hesitation.
The muscles in her arms trembled under the strain as the bluish demonic energy slowly seeped through the cracks in the sword. The blade seemed alive now. More aggressive. More unstable.
Kryssia noticed immediately.
"You increased its strength."
Xenovia finally pulled the sword away and retreated a few steps across the arena, breathing slowly as steam escaped her mouth from the intense cold.
"I increased it."
Kryssia observed the sword intently.
She truly was different.
Xenovia’s ancient blade already possessed a heavy, aggressive presence, but now it seemed to carry something deeper. The energy flowing through it didn’t feel like mere raw power. There was tension in that mana.
Accumulated pressure.
As if the sword was constantly being pushed beyond its own limits.
Kryssia slowly twirled the ice blade between her fingers before sighing.
"You’re overdoing it."
Xenovia let out a small, low laugh through her nose.
"Probably."
Then she vanished.
The air exploded behind her as Xenovia instantly reappeared before Kryssia, bringing the sword down vertically with monstrous force. Kryssia reacted immediately, raising her own blade to block, but the impact this time made the entire arena tremble violently.
A shockwave swept across the field.
The surrounding snow was flung away.
Kryssia gritted her teeth as she held the blow above her head.
"You’re really trying to crush me today."
"You can take it."
"That’s not the point."
Xenovia pushed even harder.
The black sword roared violently as blue energy began to escape from the sides of the blade like compressed fire.
Kryssia immediately sensed the change in pressure.
"Xenovia."
"I need to get stronger."
The answer came quickly.
Direct.
Heavy.
Kryssia finally unleashed a freezing blast of mana and pushed Xenovia back. Ice pierced the arena floor instantly as the two slid in opposite directions.
The wind picked up between them again.
Xenovia spun the sword once before resting it on her shoulder, breathing slowly as she watched Kryssia through the fine snow falling around the arena.
"I want to accompany Strax."
Silence lasted for a few seconds after that.
Kryssia had already expected that answer.
Still, hearing it directly felt different.
She observed Xenovia carefully.
Her posture.
The tension in her shoulders.
The way she gripped the sword too tightly.
Everything betrayed the same thing.
Anxiety.
Frustration.
And an almost desperate need to achieve something impossible.
Kryssia sighed slowly.
"Becoming stronger is natural."
She began to walk slowly across the arena while small frozen particles swirled around her feet.
"Especially in Asgard."
Xenovia remained silent.
"But you’re pushing yourself too hard."
Xenovia looked away for a moment.
Then nodded.
"I know."
The answer came softly this time.
Honest.
Without resistance.
Kryssia continued to watch her silently as the wind blew between them. Few people realized how much Xenovia had changed since arriving in Asgard.
Before, she fought because she enjoyed it.
Because it was fun.
Because crushing absurdly large monsters using disproportionately aggressive force was something that genuinely made her happy.
Now there was something more.
Pressure.
Comparison.
The constant feeling of falling behind.
Xenovia slowly tightened her fingers around the hilt of her sword.
"I’m stagnating."
Kryssia didn’t answer immediately.
Because that word carried too much weight coming from her.
Xenovia was already monstrously strong.
Ridiculously strong.
Most Asgardian warriors would die trying to keep up with half her physical intensity in actual combat. Even among elite executioners, Xenovia remained at an absurdly high level.
But the problem wasn’t sheer strength.
It was perspective.
Strax had become something too absurd.
Samira was constantly evolving.
Shura was practically a walking natural disaster.
Even Agnes was slowly beginning to surpass human limits using technology and mana manipulation.
All of Asgard seemed to be advancing at a monstrous speed.
And Xenovia felt trapped.
Kryssia slowly rested the ice sword on her shoulder before calmly asking:
"Do you know what the real problem is?"
Xenovia looked up at her.
"What?"
"You keep trying to grow as big as Strax."
Xenovia frowned slightly.
Kryssia continued walking slowly across the frozen arena.
"But Strax is a complete biological, political, and military absurdity." She casually pointed at Xenovia. "You’re not."
"Should that comfort me?"
"Not particularly."
Xenovia let out a small, tired laugh through her nose.
Kryssia continued calmly:
"You’re trying to keep up with someone who literally built an industrial empire while surviving dimensional wars." She tilted her head slightly. "That’s not a healthy pattern."
"In Asgard, that almost seems normal."
"That’s exactly the problem."
The wind blew between them again.
Xenovia remained silent for a few seconds before finally plunging her sword into the frozen arena floor.
"When I fight alongside him..." She breathed slowly. "It feels like I’m still behind."
Kryssia observed her expression carefully.
That clearly bothered Xenovia more than she liked to admit.
"Have you noticed," Kryssia commented calmly, "that perhaps no one can truly keep up with Strax?"
Xenovia crossed her arms slowly.
"Samira can keep up."
"Samira is insane."
"Shura can keep up."
"Shura probably doesn’t even belong to the same concept of mental balance."
Xenovia almost smiled.
Almost.
Kryssia finally stopped before her.
"Do you know what the difference is between you and them?"
Xenovia raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"You still think before you destroy yourself."
Silence fell again over the arena.
In the distance, the mountain winds carried the distant sound of Asgard’s factories working continuously beneath the walls. The metallic echo of the railway lines crossed the horizon as industrial smoke slowly rose against the gray sky.
The city never stopped.
She never slowed down.
And perhaps that was exactly what was slowly crushing Xenovia.
The constant feeling that standing still meant being left behind.
She slowly pulled the sword from the frozen ground.
"I hate this."
"I know."
"I hate feeling like no matter how much I train..." She clenched her teeth slightly. "There’s always another monster appearing."
Kryssia nodded calmly.
"Because there is."
"That doesn’t help."
"I’m not trying to help." She shrugged slightly. "I’m trying to be honest."
Xenovia let out a long sigh.
Then she advanced again.
The black sword crossed the arena in a violent arc as Kryssia immediately spun her own frozen blade to block. The impact exploded in a storm of snow and bluish energy, making the air vibrate violently around them.
This time, however, Xenovia didn’t try to crush her immediately.
She held her ground.
Pressing slowly.
Thinking.
Kryssia noticed this instantly.
"Better."
Xenovia narrowed her eyes.
"Don’t analyze me while we fight."
"That’s literally the reason for this training."
The two exchanged blows rapidly across the arena as the freezing wind intensified around them. Black sword against crystalline ice. Brutal strength against refined precision.
Each impact made the snow explode.
Each block left cracks in the ground.
But gradually the rhythm began to change.
Xenovia was still aggressive.
Still monstrously powerful.
But her movements slowly began to lose that desperate urgency they carried at the beginning of the fight.
Kryssia noticed immediately.
"Finally."
Xenovia dodged a side blow and responded with another heavy attack.
"Finally what?"
"You’re back in the fight."
The next impact sent them both flying back a few meters again.
Kryssia twirled the sword in her fingers before continuing:
"At first you were just trying to prove something."
Xenovia was breathing heavily now.
"Maybe I still am."
"Then prove it properly."
The wind swept across the arena again.
Xenovia watched Kryssia in silence.
Then she asked softly:
"Don’t you ever feel this?"
Kryssia blinked slowly.
"The feeling of falling behind."
The silence lasted a few seconds.
Then Kryssia smiled slightly.
"Constantly."
This clearly surprised Xenovia.
Kryssia rested the sword on her shoulder again as she watched the distant Asgardian horizon below the mountains.
"Strax is a political monster."
"Samira evolves every week."
"Agnes scares even military scientists."
"Shura could probably kill an entire army single-handedly by accident."
She gave a small, amused sigh.
"It’s impossible to live near these people without developing some kind of competitive existential crisis."
Xenovia finally chuckled a little.
A small laugh.
But genuine.
Kryssia noticed immediately.
"Better."
"You say that too much."
"Because it works."
The wind continued to blow across the arena as small frozen particles streaked across the gray sky above. Snow slowly accumulated at the edges of the training field, covering cracks opened by the absurd impacts of the two swordswomen.
Xenovia looked again at the black sword in her hands.
Then at Kryssia.
"So what do I do?"
Kryssia replied immediately:
"Stop trying to become someone else."
Xenovia remained silent.
"You don’t need to keep up with Strax the way Samira or Shura do." Kryssia pointed slowly at her. "You’re strong because you’re Xenovia."
The answer seemed too simple.
Almost irritating.
But at the same time... it made sense.
Kryssia walked slowly towards her.
"Besides," she commented casually, "Strax would probably freak out if he found out you’re destroying yourself trying to keep up with him."
Xenovia let out a small, low laugh.
"He’d give a terrible motivational political speech."
"Yeah."
"With industrial metaphors."
"Definitely."
The two were silent for a few seconds.
Then Xenovia finally took a deep breath.
Calmer now.
Less pressured.
The cold wind continued to blow through the mountains of Asgard while below them the industrial city remained alive, monstrous and growing under the gray sky.
And for the first time in weeks...
Xenovia felt that maybe she didn’t need to run desperately all the time.
