Brynhild vs. Sophia I

The world disappeared.

The chatter from the other training grounds, the clang of distant weapons, even the icy wind that swept through the clearing—all of it faded until there was only Brynhild.

Sophia tightened her grip around the twin shortswords in her hands.

The leather wrapped around the hilts creaked beneath her fingers.

Her pulse slowed.

Her breathing steadied.

This wasn’t a lesson.

It was survival.

Brynhild stood several paces away, both swords resting casually at her sides. There was no tension in her shoulders, no indication she was preparing to attack.

She looked… relaxed.

That alone terrified Sophia.

Someone truly dangerous never looked dangerous.

“You look nervous,” Brynhild observed.

Sophia let out a slow breath.

“I am.”

“Good.”

Brynhild smiled faintly.

“Only fools enter battle without fear.”

The words had barely left her lips when Sophia’s instincts screamed.

Brynhild attacked.

Sophia barely managed to lift both shortswords together before Brynhild’s blade crashed into them.

The impact exploded through her arms.

Pain shot from her wrists straight to her shoulders, and her knees bent involuntarily beneath the force.

Brynhild twisted her wrist, and Sophia felt her own swords slide dangerously aside.

Before she could recover—

The second sword came.

Sophia threw herself backward immediately just as the blade sliced through the air inches from her nose.

A few strands of her hair drifted downward.

She landed awkwardly, rolled across the ground, and sprang back onto her feet.

She hadn’t even fully regained her stance before Brynhild was already there, giving her no time to breathe. No time to relax.

The next attack followed.

And another.

And another.

Steel rang against steel in rapid succession.

Sophia blocked high.

Low.

Right.

Left.

Each impact rattled her entire body.

Brynhild wasn’t merely swinging her swords.

She was testing her.

Every defense Sophia made was immediately answered with another attack.

There was no pause.

No mercy.

Sophia’s boots slid backward through the snow, carving deep grooves into the frozen ground.

Her breathing became uneven.

She had only been defending for perhaps ten seconds, and already her arms burned from the relentless force behind every strike.

This was different from training with Orion.

Perhaps it was because Orion had been teaching her, correcting her stance, refining her movements one step at a time. This, however, was far closer to an actual battle.

Brynhild wasn’t teaching through words.

She was teaching through survival.

Sophia wasn’t going to give up, though.

She knew Brynhild was strong. She had always known that.

But what was happening now wasn’t simply because Brynhild possessed overwhelming strength.

It was because Brynhild wasted nothing.

Every movement flowed naturally into the next. She fought like a predator hunting prey. At first glance, her movements almost seemed effortless, almost careless.

But every single one had purpose.

Every step positioned her better.

Every swing forced Sophia exactly where Brynhild wanted her.

Every feint invited a mistake.

There was no hesitation in her strikes.

No unnecessary flourish.

Only efficiency.

Only experience.

Sophia gritted her teeth.

If she kept defending, she would lose.

She knew that.

Orion hadn’t taught her to fight like a coward.

The moment another sword descended toward her shoulder, Sophia stepped forward instead of backward.

Instead of waiting for the strike to land, Sophia slipped inside Brynhild’s range and slashed toward her ribs.

A small chuckle escaped Brynhild’s lips.

She caught the blade effortlessly.

Sophia immediately followed with her second shortsword.

Brynhild twisted her body with graceful precision, and the blade cut through nothing but cold air.

Before Sophia could react, Brynhild’s elbow slammed into her shoulder.

Pain exploded across her arm.

Sophia stumbled backward.

She had barely regained her footing when Brynhild’s boot shot toward her chest.

Sophia instinctively crossed both shortswords in front of her body.

The kick crashed into them.

The force still shoved her backward several steps, but the blades absorbed enough of the impact to keep her standing.

Snow scattered beneath her boots but she didn’t wait to recover, she attacked again.

Her swords flashed in rapid succession.

Left.

Right.

High.

Low.

She attacked relentlessly, refusing to let Brynhild dictate the rhythm of the battle.

Their blades collided again and again.

Each clash echoed across the training grounds.

Just then, movement at the edge of Sophia’s vision caught her attention.

Daniel was sparring with several warriors at once.

His single arm moved with astonishing speed, his sword dancing between multiple opponents. None of them could land so much as a scratch on him.

Sophia’s hated that.

She could help them.

Even if only a little.

Without taking her eyes fully off Brynhild, she reached for one of the daggers strapped to her thigh.

The blade spun through the air toward Daniel.

Without even pausing his own fight, Daniel casually turned his sword and deflected the dagger away.

The weapon buried itself harmlessly in the snow.

At almost the same moment, another warrior apparently decided to interfere.

Perhaps he intended to help Sophia.

He rushed toward Brynhild from behind.

Brynhild didn’t even turn.

Her foot swept downward.

Snow exploded upward into the warrior’s face, momentarily blinding him.

Then, without looking, she drove a punch into his stomach.

The warrior doubled over instantly before collapsing onto one knee, gasping for breath.

Sophia saw the opening.

Perfect.

She could use the distraction.

Perhaps she could support the others again—

A sword embedded itself into the snow only inches from her foot.

The blade quivered violently.

One more step…

And it would have pierced straight through her leg.

Sophia froze.

Slowly, she turned.

Brynhild stood several paces away, one sword still in her hand while the other remained buried in the ground beside Sophia.

“Your fight is with me,” She told Sophia evenly. “I feel insulted that you have the audacity to think about others while you are facing me.”

Sophia swallowed.

There was no need to help the others now. Brynhild wouldn’t let her.

She rolled her aching shoulders.

Every muscle in her body protested.

Her forearms burned.

Her shoulder throbbed where Brynhild had struck her.

Her lungs felt tight from the constant exertion.

But she wasn’t done.

She wasn’t giving up.

Her fingers tightened once more around her swords.

The hesitation disappeared from her eyes.

“Alright then,” she said.

A determined smile slowly appeared across her face.

“Let’s get serious.”

And then she and Brynhild ran toward each other, their swords hitting each other’s immediately in a sound that once more swept across the training grounds.