Pepper trusted Stark's judgment, but she still held onto a sliver of hope. What if last night had merely been an accident, and they would never be able to enter that place again? Then wouldn't they be worrying for nothing?
"Tony? Tony!" After making up her mind, she suddenly noticed Stark staring blankly into space. Pepper shoved him, slightly annoyed.
"Watch. I think we still gained something from this incident." Stark picked up a clothes pole from Pepper's office and held it like a two-handed sword. He slashed upward and downward, practicing at an unhurried pace with somewhat rough footwork. As his memories became more and more synchronized with his body, his movements grew increasingly lethal.
Pepper's eyes widened in shock. She knew exactly what Stark had been capable of before.
He had been nothing more than a playboy. After becoming a superhero, he had trained in freestyle fighting for a while. Unfortunately, he lacked talent and was a little too old. He had struggled even against someone like his fat bodyguard Happy, let alone superheroes who fought with their bodies. Without the Iron Armor, Stark was a complete weakling.
But now, things were entirely different. His muscles and speed had not changed, but his combat experience, judgment, and use of cold weapons had all undergone a radical transformation.
He had integrated all the combat abilities of the Lord of Winterfell from the dream.
Two-handed swords, one-handed swords, war hammers, spears, great axes, and bows. A lord subjected to harsh training from childhood needed to master countless combat skills, and now those experiences had become part of Stark's memories.
His riding skills had also changed beyond recognition. No matter how skilled someone from a modern riding club was, they could never surpass an old knight tempered by the battlefield. There