The Northern Duke’s Daughter Will Never Fall

Chapter 14: Astrid Fights

The moment Astrid had feared the most had arrived.

Since awakening as Astrid von Miterien, one of the most bewildering changes she faced was the raw physical power that now resided in her body.

It was one thing to be suddenly thrust into a fantasy world, but to inhabit the body of someone once known as the “Snowfield Leopard”—a battle-hardened warrior—was another challenge entirely.

If she suddenly had to wield a greatsword in a fight, what would she do?

Her current body was blessed with the physical might known as “Divine Power,” granting her immense strength.

Her senses were sharpened with “Divine Instinct,” a near-perfect battle intuition.

With these two combined—and given the naturally aggressive personality of the original Astrid—it was no surprise that she had earned a fearsome reputation alongside her father, Wolfgang, as one who could decapitate invaders without hesitation. But that was the past.

She had quickly grown accustomed to wielding the greatsword. Thanks to her strength, its weight posed no issue.

The problem lay in technique.

All the skills and experience that the original Astrid had built up over her life were absent from her current self. At crucial moments, she feared she’d be unable to act.

With a snap of Varian’s fingers, a fence began rising in the open space between the lectern and the students’ desks.

It formed a hexagonal arena, resembling a ring.

“Alright, step inside,” Varian said, his face splitting into a broad grin.

It was not the smile of a teacher impressed by his students.

It was the grin of a warrior savoring the thrill of battle.

And that’s when Astrid realized.

He had called her on purpose.

Not Astrid the student, but Astrid von Miterien—the daughter of Wolfgang von Miterien, the “Immortal Lion.”

Upon realizing this, a wave of tension coursed through her body.

A shiver ran down her spine, and a thrill of excitement washed over her, accompanied by an inexplicable sense of exhilaration.

“Oh? You’re smiling. Seems you’re confident,” Varian remarked, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

Only then did Astrid realize she was smiling.

She hadn’t done it consciously, nor had she noticed it herself.

It was a reflex, the product of battle instinct taking over.

Her “Divine Instinct” had already activated.

Inside the ring, Astrid stood with a wooden greatsword held firmly in one hand.

Her opponent, Varian, wielded a wooden axe in a loose but ready stance.

“Alright, does anyone here think they’re stronger than Cadet Astrid?” Varian’s gaze swept across the training hall.

The hall fell silent.

Even Leopold, who usually had something to say, stayed quiet.

The name Miterien carried that much weight.

The family that protected the northern border of the empire, never allowing a single invader to set foot on imperial soil.

The “Immortal Lion,” Wolfgang.

The “Snowfield Leopard,” Astrid.

The “Black Bear of the Snowfield,” Ashray.

The Miterien family embodied martial prowess itself, and now Astrid von Miterien stood in the ring.

Who would dare claim to be stronger than her?

A competitive fire blazed in Varian’s chest.

“Alright, Cadet Astrid. If we can gauge your ability, it’ll give us a good idea of this cohort’s overall skill level, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’d call that an exaggeration.”

‘There’s no way I’m the strongest here,’ she thought.

But Varian ignored her response, spinning his one-handed axe lazily in his grip as he limbered up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold back,” he said, though his face was filled with unrestrained joy.

‘He’s definitely not planning to hold back,’ Astrid thought.

As a warrior himself, it made sense.

The thrill of battle, the anticipation of combat, it was all written plainly on his face.

“We’ll keep it light, Astrid. Got it?”

“Do I have a choice in the matter, Instructor?”

Astrid’s mood had soured.

She had expected the academy to be strict, but this kind of wild, unregulated treatment of students was more than she’d bargained for.

“Haha, you’ve got spirit. Alright, Cadet Leopold! Come here.”

Varian’s tone was as brazen as ever, even addressing the Crown Prince with informal language.

Leopold’s face twitched with displeasure, but he approached the ring without complaint.

“Count to three and shout ‘Start’ to begin the match,” Varian ordered.

He was serious.

Astrid tightened her grip on her greatsword.

A foreign sensation pressed against her palms.

Leopold’s gaze was palpable, even though she didn’t turn her head to look at him.

Her entire body felt alert, as if she could feel every gaze in the training hall.

She felt the eyes of every cadet on her, the concerned gaze of Leopold at the side of the ring, and the piercing focus of Varian himself.

Her instincts told her where each gaze landed—her hands, her forearms, her shoulders.

She sensed the rise and fall of Varian’s chest as he breathed.

She watched as Varian raised his axe slowly and settled into his stance.

“Start!” Leopold’s voice rang out, loud and clear.

The axe came at her in a lateral swing, from left to right.

Her body reacted before her mind could process it.

Her greatsword’s flat edge intercepted the axe, wood colliding with wood, sending splinters flying.

She felt the axe’s impact travel up the length of her blade, jolting her arms, but she controlled it.

Her response was immediate. She tilted the greatsword flat, using its hilt to jab at Varian.

But he wasn’t there.

Her hilt thrust struck only air, and her eyes darted up—he was above her.

The axe was descending from overhead.

Her greatsword’s reach was longer, but it wasn’t fast enough to intercept the falling axe.

‘Too slow!’

With a jolt, she raised her greatsword, its flat side barely catching the axe in time. The sheer force rattled her bones.

Her grip held firm, but the impact echoed through her arms like a bell’s toll.

She retreated.

Had she been even a moment slower, she would have been struck.

The axe embedded itself into the spot where she had just stood.

‘He said he’d hold back.’

Of course, she should never have believed that. Astrid adjusted her grip on the greatsword.

Longer reach meant slower swings. Slower swings meant more power, but that power could only be realized if it connected.

“What’s wrong? Tired already?”

“Not at all, Instructor. I’m just surprised at how serious you’re being.”

A strange sensation enveloped her body.

Her senses sharpened, and she could feel her opponent’s movements faster than she could see them.

Thoughts moved slowly.

But her movements moved faster than her thoughts.

“I’m coming.”

She raised the greatsword straight up and stepped in with her left foot. Swinging from upper right to lower left, she stepped forward with her right foot, rotating her entire body.

Her greatsword swept in a full circle, striking low from left to right, aimed at the instructor’s legs.

As expected, the instructor leapt lightly to dodge.

But her rotating body subtly shifted—

—

‘His technique is clearly superior.’

Akemilla Uraid watched quietly from her seat in the training hall, where only the sound of wooden weapons clashing echoed.

From her perspective, the instructor had the upper hand.

Though the greatsword had overwhelming destructive power, its weight and slow speed were weaknesses.

However, Astrid’s strikes used strange, unpredictable paths thanks to the weight of the weapon, paths that normal greatswords would never be able to follow.

Even so, Astrid’s greatsword was repeatedly stopped by the instructor’s axe. Each time, the instructor’s single-handed axe would exploit openings to hinder Astrid’s movements.

Whispers spread through the cadets.

“She’s not as strong as we thought, huh?”

Some were starting to doubt Astrid’s strength.

But they overlooked a key detail—

The fight had been going for nearly 20 minutes.

No ordinary stamina could sustain close combat for that long.

‘The instructor has better technique, but…’

Akemilla’s eyes narrowed.

‘Why is she so calm?’

Then, she realized.

‘I see.’

As if on cue, the sound of splintering wood rang out.

The axe’s head flew through the air, struck the fence, and rolled to the ground.

‘Just as I thought.’

Akemilla’s lips curled into a faint smile.

It was exactly as she’d expected.

Astrid had been using her reach advantage to chip away at the axe’s handle bit by bit. Every swing of the instructor’s axe collided with her greatsword, wearing it down.

Meanwhile, Astrid minimized the damage to her own weapon, avoiding direct clashes whenever possible.

The result was clear.

The instructor’s axe had broken.

Astrid’s greatsword remained intact.

“Is it over?”

With a faint smile, Astrid lifted her greatsword, pointing it at the now unarmed instructor.

The instructor’s response was—

“Not a chance.”

Suddenly, the instructor lunged toward her with a low tackle aimed at her waist.

But it seemed Astrid had anticipated it.

Just as he closed in, she released her grip on the greatsword, letting it fall as she shifted her stance to redirect his charge.

“Impressive.”

Even though his tackle had failed, the instructor didn’t seem upset.

“Now you’re unarmed too, Cadet Astrid.”

“We’re both unarmed, then. Only one option remains, doesn’t it?”

“That’s right. You know exactly what comes next, Astrid.”

At some point, the word “cadet” had disappeared from his tone.

The instructor raised both hands, signaling that he’d attack bare-handed. Astrid responded in kind, raising her hands as well.

They charged at each other like two bears locked in a wrestling match.

A delicate-looking girl against a massive man built like a grizzly bear.

At a glance, it seemed impossible that she could compete in raw strength.

But the reality was different.

“Guh…!”

Astrid’s pale face remained unchanged as she pressed down on Varian with unwavering pressure.

Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead as his face twisted in effort.

Little by little, Varian’s arms began to bend.

He gritted his teeth, but his knees buckled under Astrid’s relentless force.

– Thud.

One of Varian’s knees hit the ground.

– Thud.

The second knee followed, his legs completely giving out.

If Astrid pressed down a bit more, his arms would fold too.

“It’s been a good match. Thank you, Instructor. I look forward to learning from you.”

With that, Astrid suddenly released her grip, stepped back, and straightened her posture.

Her voice was clear and calm, as if she’d simply completed a training exercise.

Without waiting for a response, she bowed deeply to the kneeling instructor, picked up her greatsword, and walked back to her seat.

Akemilla watched her retreating figure with curiosity in her eyes.

‘How did she win?’

Even as she returned to her seat, Astrid didn’t fully understand it herself.

The moment she sat down, the adrenaline began to wear off.

Her body, which had been tensed throughout the fight, suddenly relaxed.

Her hands trembled.

The tremor spread from her fingers to her arms, and then throughout her entire body.

Suddenly, she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.

“H-Hk?!”

Startled, she flinched and pulled away.

“Astrid. Are you alright? You’re shaking a lot,” Leopold’s voice said from behind her.