The students only have Five Dragons, Sif realized, and remembered Red MJ mentioning that the Powered and the Primos could only master Five Dragons at best. Only a Shattered Forsaken could master Seven Dragons.

Master White Bear was using all Seven.

Sif idly batted away random flying ice chunks, withstood the winds, deflected a tail lash that ended up coming her way as the Wolf leapt around, and watched Master White Bear at work.

His swordwork was as bright as the sun, as flitting as the shadows, and as pure as the moon. His students were using three Dragons at most, although Osko seemed to have a particular move he had to brace and gather his energy for, unleashing what looked like four blows in the same instant which had Fire, Crystal, Thunder, and Ocean upon them. It sheared through massive amounts of the Winter Wolf’s hide when he unleashed it.

In a duel it would never be released, taking far too long to prepare, but in the chaos of the fight and with the others covering for him, he could do so.

Master White Bear was playing with FIVE Dragons on every move. The Winter Wolf rightly considered him the most dangerous opponent, and in Sif’s eyes it was plain that he could have killed this thing all by himself.

But, this was not a fight. This was a teaching moment. Her lips curled at the thought.

Moon Dragon chi swirled and diverted attacks. Sun Dragon chi blinded, paralyzed, and struck precisely. Shadow Dragon chi cut cunningly and cripplingly the instant there was an opening. Fire Dragon chi exploded into every opportunity and opening, Ocean Dragon chi plunged deep with irresistible might, and Crystal Dragon chi sliced wide and hard with unstoppable weight. Storm Dragon chi was fast and terrible, and rang with the condemnation of a higher power as it met and matched any speed of attack the Wolf could put forth.

There was no way for the Wolf to flee, despite its size. The Ice Witches were flying swiftly, and the students darted about faster than gazelles, completely capable of keeping up with it. Master White Bear interfered with any truly deadly attacks at will, fully capable of blocking its most powerful blows, even turning them against itself. She watched him bat aside a coming snap of over-fanged jaws, and the startled Wolf ended up biting down upon its own foreleg!

There were two levels of skill being shown here, she realized. The first was the Chi-wielding, akin to watching a master sorcerer weaving spells, the multiple Dragons of chi combining in different ways and effects, be it defending, deflecting, concealing, following, penetrating, wounding, or debilitating in some manner. Delivered by their Weapons, the chi was eating away at the creature and hampering it on many levels, not allowing it to unleash its full power as it wished.

The other was the simple foundation power of their Weapon-work, making sure their Weapons always reached their target, were ready on defense or attack, and exerted force and threat far beyond what mere things of metal should be able to deliver. It was the level those without chi fought at, only more sublime.

At last Osko seemed to ignite some kind of explosive sunfire inside the hollow cage of bones beneath its spiked fur, and the Winter Wolf howled in agony. The Ice Witches promptly filled his yawning maw full of snowflakes that shimmered like radiant stars, countless shards of light erupting in all directions from within it and making the remains of its icy fur light up like some fanciful rhinestone coat.

Then Brigori came down on its spine with his Spear, and shattered it with a Three-Dragon Strike of Ocean, Thunder, and Fire, severing it completely as the Wolf lost its strength.

It was not dead, even as its head dropped down, but a Six-Dragon Slash, all but Shadow evident, ripped down the entire length of its spine as it lost its power, and tore the creature’s hollow shell wide open in one massive stroke, finishing the kill.

Vivic fire exploded over the carcass as the Ziminbelyi Volk, a Wolf of the White Death, fell, cleansing, purifying, and feeding the thing to the Land.

All except for the massive head, which was hewn off and doubtless going to be made into something appropriate for them to use, not just a mere trophy to hang on a wall. Everyone was congratulating Osko, so it seemed it was his turn for the souvenir.

All of the students had been injured to some extent, if only lightly. The Witches had suffered slicing wind, spiritual cold eating at their bodies and souls, and corrosive snows and ice eating into their skin and clothing to take a toll on them.

In addition to all that, the men had to face the chilling aura of death around the Wolf itself, and had been batted around by its massive claws and jaws, nearly impaled by shooting hair-spears of ice, or frozen solid inside howling exhalations.

Their injuries had not stopped them from fighting and finishing the job, but she could see by the glances they sent their virtually untouched master that their respect for him had grown.

The White Bear had taken almost all of the most dangerous attacks, and interfered in dozens of others so they could continue fighting. Without him there, it was unlikely they would have been able to continue and finish the job at all.

Sif considered her own strength, and quietly realized the same was probably true for her. This Wolf of Killing Snows had indeed been a fell and dangerous creature...

“Take your spoils and go. I will be along after it burns down,” the White Bear ordered, and there were no protests from the four. The oddly ursine-canine-stag head was shrunken down as the students stood close together, the Witch Ilya gestured, and a wall of white snow came down, blew past them, and they were gone.

---

The White Bear leaned up against the rock below her, eyes on the carcass of the Wolf being burned away forever, whatever death it had meant to deliver to others finally coming upon itself. “Well, Lady Sif, what did you see?” he asked calmly.

She considered her words and insights carefully, weighing what to say and how to say it. “I believe thou canst teach me some of thy Ways of the Sword. I think not that I canst learn them all, but I canst learn some. Thou art stronger than I am, and faster, so the problems Red MJ spoke of should not be a matter of concern.” She paused, considering more, and finally admitted, “The use of chi thy students and thyself unleashed was incredibly enlightening, Master White Bear. It is something I wouldst love to train in and use for mine own self, but... I thinketh not I can do so?” she finished hesitantly.

He laughed softly below her. “Indeed. The Ways of the Dragons are ki-based skills that are based in one’s heart and soul. One must not only understand them, but empathize with them. Chi, however, is something that explodes forth, and so harmonizing with such powers is an order of magnitude greater in difficulty.

“Too, you are a goddess, and Divine power flows through you. Divine power is an energy a step higher on the profound level than chi. Bringing chi into the power to execute Forms and Techniques is extremely difficult for the Divine, as you have a greater power within you already.

“The challenge for a goddess is learning to use and growing their own Divine power, not the Seven Dragons or similar energies.”

“Ah!” She sat up straighter, enlightened. “That... sounds not easy, Master White Bear?”

“No, it is not, particularly for the Asgardians,” he replied grimly. “Forgive me if this offends you, but the blame for that rests on your All-Father.”

“All-Father Odin?” she repeated, not knowing whether to be surprised or shocked. “How?”

“I have been to Asgard when I was younger. Fighting members of your people wasn’t difficult, as they tend to think I’m an ogre or something and get right to it.” Sif had to muffle a laugh as she pictured it. “The Divine power present among the Asgardians is dependent upon Odin passing it down. You are born with a certain amount of it, and it is rare for members of your people to gain more. Those who do naturally stand out and become leaders.

“As an example, you are stronger than other Asgardian women, and probably ALL of them, save Brunhilda and perhaps some of the other Valkyrie. You both also have ties to Thor. I posit your closeness to Thor encouraged the All-Father to increase your Divine energy, that you would be more suitable consorts for his son.”

Sif pursed her lips in thought, though the idea seemed... logical, and Odin was known to be sly in many ways. “I be unable to pass judgement on the All-Father’s actions...” she replied neutrally, as certainly such an action had been to her benefit, its purpose notwithstanding.

“Without some access to Sorcery, it is very difficult for Asgardians to increase their strength under their own efforts, and most Asgardians are not talented in Sorcery.”

Sif stirred uneasily. “I... be not talented in Sorcery...” she admitted reluctantly.

“It would probably not surprise you that most Asgardians who are act rather independently of the All-Father, knowing that their strength does not flow from Him.”

Sif contemplated that, logic and a desire to improve warring with her loyalty to her king, something she would not set aside. “What, then, art thou proposing?”

“I can teach you the Ways of the Dragons. How far you can take them will depend on your sincerity to your blade and your art. Your bladework will improve on a physical and profound level, and doubtless you will be lauded as the finest fencer of all the Asgardians,” he informed her confidently.

Her face flushed despite herself at the honor and glory of such recognition, but she distanced herself from the feeling and considered his words slowly. “But... that does not increase my true strength, only my ability with a blade in hand.”

“Yes,” he agreed with her.

“Is there a payment needed for this service of thine?” she asked carefully. “My people take debts very seriously.”

“If you ask if there is required material compensation, no. This is what I do: battle the creatures that threaten the Motherland, and teach the next generations of the Seven Dragons. If you are worthy to be taught, I will teach you.

“The only debt is the brotherhood among students of the Seven Dragons, and that you not teach anyone who is unworthy to learn such things in turn. Your reputation as an honorable and just woman far precedes you, and I would be honored to teach the Dragons to you, Lady Sif.

“But as a teacher, I wish more for my students, be they god or human. And seeing you stuck there unable to truly improve, it riles my teacher itch something fierce.”

Sif could not help smiling at that. Despite having at least fifteen centuries on this warrior, she was indeed feeling like she was in the presence of someone who was older and wiser. “Thou hast a way for me to break mine limits?” she asked softly.

“Yes, we do. You may thank Highfather Perrun.” He turned to look up at her, his pale violet eyes, so much like his father’s, twinkling at her. Her eyes also noted the threads of seven colors coiling through them, and took it as the warning sign it was. “The Slavic gods and their pantheon do not hold nearly the prestige of many others on this world. Much of that is their own fault, not passing on their tales and stories as they should have, but perhaps their own origins are to blame. They simply do not have the innate power that many other pantheons do, especially those who lead them.”

Sif could not help straightening up proudly. “Highfather Perrun is not the equal of All-Father Odin,” she restated his words, pleased despite herself.

“Technically, he was not even the equal of Thor. ‘Was’ being the key word. My father Briggs worked with him for many years, much as my mother did with Hercules. The finest method they found is the way to increase one’s own Divine power through Divine works and deeds, without necessarily needing mortal worship to do so... although recognition by mortals does help.

“All the Dovnar are much stronger now than they were a century ago. If that means using mortal means and lessons to become stronger gods, well, the gods protected us for a long time. Is it not reasonable we give back, in some more lasting means than just prayer and Faith?”