Chapter 93: New Challenges
Asgard's skies rumbled with distant thunder, though no storm had been summoned. It was the kind of atmosphere that signaled change—a shift in the wind, in the world, and for Rossweisse, in herself.
The training grounds had been expanded for today. Magical wards shimmered across the open arena, designed to contain volatile spellwork and test the limits of their young warriors.
Volundr stood at the edge of the field, eyes narrowed, hands behind his back as he watched Rossweisse stretch her arms and adjust the runic pattern along her forearms. Today was different.
She knew it too.
Her training over the past months had shifted from basic reinforcement spells and barrier control to more dynamic applications—stacking magic, timed layering, and sustained casting under pressure.
She had even begun experimenting with elemental fusions, merging her defensive runes with fire and wind to create flame shields and gust-propelled barriers. But Volundr had said little in recent days, merely observing with a sharp gaze.
Until this morning.
"Today, you'll face three foes," Volundr had said, his voice level. "Each specializes in a different form of magic—pure offense, disruption, and illusion. You're not expected to win… but you are expected to adapt."
Rossweisse had blinked, caught off guard. "Alone?"
Volundr gave a single nod. "Growth doesn't come from comfort."
Now, the test had begun.
Across the field, her opponents advanced. The first launched a flurry of light-infused spears, their speed nearly breaking the sound barrier. Rossweisse didn't hesitate. Her barrier formed instantly—a layered dome of hexagonal energy infused with ice runes. The spears cracked against the shield, shattering like glass.
But even as she recovered, the second opponent struck—distorting her sense of distance with spatial magic. The arena twisted, making the third enemy's illusion weave around her like smoke.
Rossweisse grit her teeth, closing her eyes. Focus. Filter the noise. Anchor yourself.
She tapped into her newer training—anchoring her mind with a protection rune etched over her heart. It glowed faintly as she opened her eyes, her vision stabilizing.
"Nice trick," she muttered, shifting her stance.
She raised her hand and channeled magic not into a barrier—but into a concentrated burst of force.
Her offensive spell fired like a compressed shockwave, slamming into the illusionist's location and breaking the illusion apart.
Volundr, still watching silently, marked that moment.
Her first instinct wasn't defense. She chose to strike—calculated, clean, and decisive.
The battle went on for several minutes, with Rossweisse weaving between shielding, counterattacks, and suppressive support spells that slowed her enemies' movements.
She wasn't perfect—she was hit, knocked back, forced to retreat multiple times—but she always recovered. Always adapted.
And when the battle ended—her knees slightly buckled, arms trembling, her uniform scorched—she stood tall.
Volundr approached, offering her a flask of cooling potion. "You pushed past your limits."
Rossweisse took it, panting slightly. "I didn't know I could do that."
"You didn't," Volundr said calmly. "Until today."
She looked up at him, eyes shining with something new—pride, perhaps. Or maybe understanding.
"I want more," she said quietly. "I want to keep growing."
Volundr didn't smile, but the flicker of approval in his gaze was unmistakable.
"You will," he said. "There's still much ahead of you."
He turned away, his cloak fluttering in the wind, but his mind was already elsewhere—plotting her next series of challenges, refining her path.
Because Rossweisse wasn't just training.
She was being forged.