The violent echoes of their trial battle still lingered in the air, manifesting as a faint, low subsonic hum that pulsed across the frost. Cracked ice stretched across the valley floor like shattered glass, every fissure glittering with an unsettling, fractured light beneath the pale, shifting aurora. The silence that followed the combat was almost reverent—broken only by the measured rhythm of Zander's steady, deep breathing and Aethros's low, resonant growl as he paced in slow, contained circles. The feline's muscles twitched sporadically, releasing tiny, visible sparks of residual energy into the cold air.
For a long moment, they simply stood there, absorbing the scene. Two beings at the cusp of something exponentially greater, realizing how terrifyingly vast that "greater" truly was.
Zander exhaled, the hot breath briefly fogging the air before collapsing into glittering condensation. "We're fast," he murmured, the realization a quiet undercurrent of awe, "but not instantaneous."
Aethros stopped mid-step, his large ears rotating to catch the nuance in Zander's voice. "What do you mean?"
Zander crouched, drawing a precise, sharp line in the snow with his finger, illustrating the core of his thought. "At full sprint, we can reach incredible, self-destructive velocities—but it takes too many steps to get there. The real advantage isn't the top speed we sustain… it's how quickly we reach that velocity from a standstill. We need zero to hundred in zero point zero seconds."
He glanced at his partner, the intensity of his eyes mirroring the aurora. "In combat, that first single, explosive burst decides everything."
Aethros's golden eyes narrowed into sharp, knowing slits. "So you want to refine the start—the ignition. Turning a controlled run into a displacement."
"Exactly. We weaponize the launch."
Zander closed his eyes, recalling the fragments of old data and research he'd inherited from Sensei—the blueprints of Force burst propulsion, raw notes on kinetic discharge, and theoretical improvements to his own rudimentary Flash Technique.
"Acceleration is not the same as sustained movement. True speed is born from absolute, controlled confinement of energy."
He stepped back, lowering his stance into a deep, aggressive crouch. Force began to ripple violently outward from his core. The snow directly beneath his boots didn't scatter; it compacted violently, crystallizing and briefly darkening under the invisible, immense pressure of the condensing energy. The very air around him seemed to warp and shimmer, becoming thick and viscous.
Then—
He vanished.
Aethros's pupils constricted, tracking the invisible movement. A razor-sharp gust of displaced air ripped through the plain, carving a deep, smoking trench in the ice where Zander had been. The sound was a clean, razor-sharp crack, a sonic boom muted by the brutal efficiency of the transfer. The boy reappeared thirty meters away, sliding to a halt in a chaotic spray of pulverized frost, the air distorting faintly around him for a lingering half-second.
But he grimaced, his jaw tight. The movement had been raw—powerful, yes, but wildly unstable.
"Too much dispersion... the core release needs to be contained," he muttered, shaking off the residual shock.
Again.
He crouched lower, focusing his breath, forcing the vast amount of Force within him to condense instantly in his calves, his core, and his spine, locking down the energy before the launch. The second attempt was smoother—cleaner. The sound was a precise thwump, a sharp, contained detonation beneath his feet, and he reappeared almost instantly.
Aethros tilted his head, watching the residual blue-white vapor trail left by the hyper-accelerated movement. "You're refining your Flash into a controlled skip."
Zander nodded, sweat crystallizing instantly on his brow and hair. "The first version focused only on sustained speed—straight-line propulsion. But this… this will be the Flash Burst. A refined, directional strike movement that maximizes kinetic output over minimal distance."
He drew in another deep, frigid breath, his eyes narrowing with calculation. "If I can reach my top speed within a single heartbeat, an enemy with even higher power output won't have the time or the range to react."
Aethros smirked, a dangerous, fanged grin. "You're turning motion into a singular, concentrated projectile."
"Exactly."
They trained through the dim, perpetual Arctic daylight, refining every launch, every microsecond of acceleration. With each attempt, Zander's body learned to handle the more explosive Force; the kinetic feedback became less jarring. His movements grew smoother, faster—each successful launch like a silent, spatial detonation beneath his boots.
But with progress came a crucial revelation.
Zander quickly realized that while his physical capacity had expanded far beyond that of ordinary humans—his sheer strength alone could crush steel—Force application remained the absolute key multiplier. His raw physical motion could crack granite, but with proper Force amplification via the Flash Burst, the same motion could obliterate titanium in a localized, controlled explosion.
He stopped to rest, kneeling in the frost, thinking aloud. "Physical ability defines the foundation, the vessel," he said quietly, looking at his Force-augmented hands. "But Force… that's the ultimate amplifier. Without it, we're just enhanced humans. With it, we are transcending the species."
Aethros padded closer, his fur glittering faintly with frozen mist. "Then what's next? How far can this level go before we break it?"
Zander looked to the horizon, his eyes sharp and deeply contemplative. "Sensei said that at the true peak of the Tempered Martial Master stage… a cultivator could briefly manipulate Force to fundamentally alter their body's interaction with gravity."
"Levitation," Aethros muttered, his voice barely audible.
"Exactly. Not flight—not yet—but the beginning of it. If we can reach that, it means we've achieved full, absolute Force-body synchronization. That is the true gateway to the next echelon of power."
He clenched his fist, the golden light of his aura pulsing once. "But before that, we need control—absolute, atomic control. The Flash Burst is step one."
The wind howled around them, sweeping across the icy plain like a living, testing entity. In that frozen emptiness, their resolve only deepened.
Aethros stretched luxuriously, extending his claws. Tiny arcs of golden micro-lightning shimmered faintly around the razor edges—a new phenomenon, a sign that his Force was integrating kinetic and electrical energies on a sub-atomic level. His gaze turned to Zander, fierce and competitive. "And I'll refine this, too. I can feel it—the Force reinforcing my claws the instant before I strike. It's like… building a permanent edge."
Zander's lips curved faintly. "Then let's evolve together."
They stood there for a long moment, side by side against the endless, brutal horizon.
For the first time since their arrival in the Frost Frontier, they were not just surviving. They were constructing.
Not just new techniques—but a new future. A legacy born in ice.
The temperature dropped another few degrees as twilight began to consume the ice fields, yet within that vast, frozen expanse, two monumental life forces blazed bright against the cold.
Zander closed his eyes, steadying his breathing one last time, preparing for another Burst cycle. The aurora shimmered above, whispering like an ancient, powerful spirit.
"We'll master the burst," he murmured, his voice firm. "Then we'll master gravity itself."
And in the frozen silence of the Arctic frontier, his words felt less like a vow and more like a definitive, undeniable prophecy.
Lore Interlude: Sensei's Notes — "The Tempered Martial Master Hypothesis"
Recovered file: Fragmented Record 7A — Sensei's Private ArchiveSubject: Human Limitations and Force Integration
Base Observation: The human body, even after complete tempering, can only endure so much before internal collapse. The energy required to overcome gravitational pull is immense.
Projection: At optimal synchronization between body and Force, the cultivator may achieve momentary gravitational detachment — the ability to negate mass at will, a brief, effortless lift.
Theory: Sustained flight remains unproven. Our Force structure is fragmented, our vessels incomplete. Without full Force harmonization, the human organism cannot maintain stable levitation.
Conclusion: Perhaps, in the far future, with a perfected vessel… true flight could become more than fantasy.
Zander sat before the faint blue glow of his portable console, the archived document flickering in the intense cold. His eyes scanned the final, doubting line again.
"...with a perfected vessel, true flight could become more than fantasy."
He leaned back slowly against the icy ridge, the aurora reflecting the vibrant, swirling colours in his eyes.
"Sensei was wrong," he whispered, a quiet but revolutionary statement. "It's not fantasy anymore."
He looked at his hands—hands that had withstood the full, irreversible transformation of the complete tempering. He knew the difference now. The fragments of the past were mere theories based on an incomplete model of humanity. His vessel wasn't incomplete. It was new.
Aethros stirred nearby, his tail brushing the snow, kicking up frozen crystals. "You truly believe it's possible?"
Zander's expression hardened with supreme confidence, a slow, resolute smile rising. "Not just possible. I can feel it. The flow of Force through my body isn't linear anymore—it's circular, self-sustaining, a miniature, perpetual storm. When that cycle reaches equilibrium, there won't just be levitation…"
He looked up at the vibrant, dancing lights above, his voice quiet but echoing with immense conviction.
"There will be flight."
The aurora pulsed faintly, violently, as though the world itself acknowledged and trembled beneath his claim. And in that moment—deep in the Frost Frontier—the impossible began to take its final, inevitable shape.