Soren gritted his teeth and made his decision.
He tapped on the in-person instruction option.
While his comprehension was decent, it couldn’t help him master a complex technique on his own. He wasn’t so genius who could take one look and instantly understand everything. Real guidance would save him ti and prevent bad habits from forming.
[Purchase Confird: Glacial Edge Spear Arts - In-Person Instruction (3 sessions)]
[First Session Scheduled: Today, 9:00 AM - Bureau Training Hall, Sector 4]
Soren checked the ti. 6:30 AM. He had enough ti to prepare breakfast and get Ethea ready before leaving.
____ ___ _
The morning routine went smoothly. Soren cooked a vegetable soup, fed Ethea, and made sure she was comfortable in the living room before Clara arrived at 8:00 AM.
"Good morning, Mr. Valre," Clara greeted him warmly.
"Good morning, Lady Clara. I’ll be heading out for a few hours."
"Of course. Take your ti. We’ll be fine here."
Soren grabbed his spear and left.
____ ___ _
Three hours later, Soren returned ho, his mind buzzing with what he’d just witnessed.
He was disappointed, yes. Even after the full two-hour session, he hadn’t grasped the technique yet. The movents were far more complex than the basic drills Marcus had taught him. The timing, the Mana flow, the integration of ice with each strike... it all required precision he didn’t yet have.
But he was also exhilarated.
Because he’d seen it with his own eyes.
The instructor, a young woman in her late twenties but with a decade of experience, had demonstrated the Glacial Edge Spear Arts in full. The way she moved was breathtaking. Every strike flowed seamlessly into the next, frost spreading from her spear tip like living crystal. Each thrust left trails of ice in the air, and each sweep created barriers that could defend or trap.
It was both beautiful and deadly.
Soren clenched his fists, determination burning in his chest.
’I will master this.’
’Definitely!’
____ ___ _
After a quick lunch with Ethea, Soren headed straight to the courtyard.
"I’m going to train," he said simply. "Call if you need anything."
Ethea, seated in her wheelchair near the garden, gave a faint nod.
Soren picked up his spear and began.
He started with the first form, a simple thrust infused with ice Mana. But the execution was far from simple. The Mana had to flow in a specific pattern, condensing at the exact mont of impact.
He thrust forward.
The frost ford too late, dissipating before it could take shape.
He tried again.
This ti, the frost ford too early, weakening the strike.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He failed repeatedly, but his expression never darkened. Instead, a small smile tugged at his lips each ti he corrected a mistake and tried once more.
____ ___ _
anwhile, Ethea watched him from her wheelchair, her ice-blue eyes following his every movent.
She’d seen him train before. Over the past few days, he’d practiced diligently in the courtyard — spear drills, footwork, frostpalm, and other basic techniques.
But this was different.
Before, it had felt like he was forcing himself. Going through the motions out of necessity, not enjoynt.
Now...
Now he was smiling.
Even after failing again and again, even as sweat dripped down his face and his arms trembled from exhaustion, he kept going with that sa determined smile.
’Why...?’
She didn’t understand.
What had changed?
But as she watched him move, watched him fail, adjust, and try again without hesitation, sothing stirred inside her.
A faint smile appeared on her own face that she didn’t even notice herself.
____ ___ _
Ti passed.
The afternoon sun shifted lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
At around 4:00 PM, Lady Clara arrived for her evening session.
She stepped through the front door, calling out her usual greeting.
"Mr. Valre? Mrs. Valre?"
No response.
Frowning slightly, Clara walked through the house, checking the living room and kitchen. Empty.
Then she heard a faint sound from outside, the rhythmic swish of sothing cutting through the air.
Clara stepped out into the courtyard and froze.
At the center, Soren was swinging his spear with relentless focus. His clothes were drenched in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. Frost clung to the spear’s blade, spreading with each movent before dissipating into the air.
But what truly made Clara’s breath catch wasn’t Soren.
It was Ethea.
Sitting in her wheelchair near the garden, she was watching Soren train.
But it wasn’t the watching that made Clara freeze.
It was her expression.
Ethea was smiling.
A real, genuine smile. Soft and unguarded, her lips curved gently as her ice-blue eyes followed Soren’s movents. She seed completely lost in thought, unaware of anything around her except the man swinging his spear in the courtyard.
Clara had worked with Ethea for days now. She’d seen the woman’s cold indifference, her quiet resignation, the distant look that never quite left her eyes.
But she had never seen this.
Never seen her smile.
The afternoon light caught Ethea’s black hair, making it gleam softly. It illuminated her delicate features, the peaceful expression on her face, the faint warmth in her gaze.
Clara had always known Mrs. Valre was beautiful. Even in her current state, confined to a wheelchair and unable to move freely, her beauty was undeniable.
But this...
This was sothing else entirely.
This was a woman watching soone she cared for. A woman who, for just a mont, had forgotten her pain and allowed herself to simply exist in the presence of another.
Clara stood there, unable to move, her heart unexpectedly full.
She knew, sohow, that she would never forget this scene.
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