In the Sixth Epoch, year 232, Sigrdrifa was 11 years old.
She held an axe, practicing chopping on a timber stump.
"Your axe handle and arm should be in a straight line," Elder Wild said indifferently, "Use the strength of your forearms, upper arms, and abdomen, and chop down with all your might! Imagine that the log is the head of your enemy, tear it apart with your weapon!"
Sigrdrifa stood there, stunned for a moment, then suddenly said, "But Aske said that it's unwise to strike directly at the skull because the weapon might get stuck in the bone and can't be pulled out."
"Who is Aske?" Elder Wild asked with a look of surprise.
"Aske?" Sigrdrifa also paused.
She instinctively felt that the name was familiar, carrying a sense of affinity and attachment, yet she couldn't remember.
"Anyway, don't get distracted!" Elder Wild said sternly, bringing her thoughts back to reality, "Chop down with all your might! Before his axe strikes you, kill him first!"
