Chapter 9: A Tyrant’s Resolve

The fight continued.

Harry gritted his teeth, struggling as he caught one of the spears she had materialized and hurled at him, The force sent him sliding back but he maintained his balance as he turned and hurled it back with all his might.

She dodged and closed the gap between them in an instant.

Then she struck.

Faster than a lightning bolt, Njörun's spear lanced forward, piercing straight through his left shoulder.

Pain exploded through him. His vision blurred for an instant as divine energy seared through flesh and bone, scorching his very essence. The force sent him hurtling backward, as he crashed into the icy ground, carving a trench through the battlefield.

The world rang in his ears. His breathing was ragged, his blood staining the ice beneath him.

Yet, he was still alive.

He forced himself up, ignoring the fire in his shoulder. His left arm hung uselessly, but he wasn't done.

Njörun tilted her head, intrigued. "You stand?"

Harry exhaled sharply. "I won't fall," he muttered. Then his emerald glowing eyes gleamed with something fierce. "Not to you."

A pulse of raw power erupted from him.

The ground beneath his feet cracked, ice splitting apart as his Fenririan Rend howled into existence. The air shimmered as his Authorities surged to their peak, magic and divine power blending in a vortex of destruction.

Njörun's expression shifted—no longer playful amusement, but recognition.

Harry moved.

He blurred across the battlefield, faster than before. His wounded arm was useless, but he adapted, using his body and magic in tandem. He kicked off the fractured ground, flipping over Njörun's next spear thrust and slashing down with Fenririan Rend.

The very space between them tore apart. A rift of nothingness formed where his attack landed, devouring all in its path.

Njörun barely evaded, her cloak of starlight whipping as she twisted midair. But Harry wasn't finished.

With a flick of his fingers, he activated Devour Magic, pulling at the remnants of her power still lingering in the air. The golden energy around her spear flickered, dimming slightly as his Authority siphoned the divine essence.

Njörun landed, glancing at her weapon. She frowned.

Harry smirked. "Not so untouchable, are you?"

Njörun exhaled. "I see. You are beginning to understand."

Then she smiled.

And the world changed.

The sky darkened, the stars above shifting unnaturally. A deafening hum resonated through the battlefield, as though the fabric of reality itself was responding to her will.

Harry's instincts screamed at him—this was it.

Njörun raised her spear high, golden runes spiraling across its surface. Her voice echoed like a chorus of divine hymns, reverberating through existence.

"Final Dream: The Sleeping World."

A pulse of power erupted from her, cascading outward in waves. The land beneath them rippled, ice turning to silver mist. The stars above twisted, their light flickering into strange patterns. Time itself shuddered.

Harry's vision blurred. His body felt… slow. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, sluggish and heavy. The world around him was shifting, pulling him into something beyond reality.

Njörun's golden eyes gleamed with triumph. "Sleep now, Godslayer," she whispered. "And let fate reclaim you."

Harry's knees buckled. His body swayed. He could feel his Unyielding Will fighting back, but it was like pushing against an ocean current, inevitable and vast.

His mind wavered. His thoughts drifted. No… not like this.

Then, something deep within him roared.

A primal, burning defiance surged through his soul.

Harry gritted his teeth, his own divine power surging in response. He clenched his fist, his Unyielding Will howling to life, refusing to be swallowed by the dream.

His emerald eyes snapped open.

"I. won't. Fall."

The mist around him trembled.

Njörun's expression flickered in surprise.

Then Harry lunged, tearing through the illusion, defying the law of dream itself.

The battlefield shifted violently as the dreamscape cracked under the force of his defiance. The shimmering silver mist around him shattered like glass, revealing the frozen city wasteland once more. He landed on the fractured ice, breath ragged but eyes burning with renewed fire.

Njörun's grip on her spear tightened. "You should not have been able to break free so easily," she murmured, studying him.

Harry rolled his shoulders, ignoring the pain in his wounded arm. "Yeah, well," he said, voice rough, "I've never liked being told what to do."

With a flick of her wrist, Njörun summoned another wave of chains, these ones darker, more insidious, writhing like living things. They surged toward him again.

This time, Harry didn't wait.

He met them head-on, tearing through them with Fenririan Rend, each slash ripping apart the threads of fate itself. The chains disintegrated, unable to contain the force of his defiance.

Njörun laughed. A genuine, delighted sound. "Excellent."

And then she vanished.

Harry barely had time to react before she reappeared above him, spear poised to strike. He dodged, but not completely—her blade grazed his ribs, another burning wound searing into him. He twisted, lashing out with a blast of Devour Magic, forcing her to retreat.

Blood dripped onto the ice.

Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He had taken injuries since the fight started, but these… these were different. He could feel them lingering, resisting his natural healing. Her divine power wasn't just wounding him, it was marking him?

Njörun watched him with fascination. "You continue to impress, little wolf," she said. "But I wonder… can you withstand my next move?"

She raised her spear, and the heavens split open.

A titanic golden gate, adorned with celestial carvings, descended from the sky. The air vibrated with overwhelming power as the massive structure unlocked, its doors creaking open to reveal an abyss of endless stars.

Harry's body tensed. This was it. Her true trump card.

Njörun's voice rang with finality. "Let us see if even a Godslayer can escape The Eternal Hunt."

The gates roared to life, pulling at his very soul.

'What the hell was that'.

He felt as if he was being stared down by something, his body felt like it couldn't move or rather it didn't want to move.

His mind was being lured to sleep, being soothed to eternal rest.

'NO' his mind shouted. 'He isn't going out like this, not now when he was just

Harry braced himself.

And then—.

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