The world held its breath.
Golden light blazed across the sky, painting Reykjavik in an eerie, celestial glow. The frozen earth trembled beneath the weight of two beings—one born of divinity, the other who had stolen it. Njörun stood regal, her cloak of starlight rippling like liquid night, her spear humming with divine energy.
Opposite her, Harry Potter did not flinch.
The goddess's presence was suffocating, but he refused to bow. He had slain Fenrir, even if by luck. He had taken a god's power for his own. He was not about to bow now.
Njörun's lips curled. "Good. You do not cower." Her voice was a blade wrapped in silk. "It has been centuries since I found a hunt worthy of my spear."
Harry exhaled, steadying himself. His Authorities pulsed in his veins, eager, and power cracked beneath his skin.
Then—she struck.
Faster than thought, her spear lanced toward his heart.
Harry twisted aside, but the tip grazed his ribs. The shockwave of the missed blow carved a canyon into the ice behind him. A second strike followed instantly, the spear's arc trailing comet-bright embers.
"By the hunger of the wolf who gnawed fate's thread, I claim what is divine! Let power fall like blood between my jaws!"
—Devour Magic!
A void surged forth from his hand. Njörun's golden energy clashed with it—and was consumed. The light vanished into Harry's Authority like a swallowed sun.
She hovered above, surprised. "The Beast feeds."
But Njörun didn't stop, didn't hesitate. She pivoted, driving the spear's haft toward his ribs.
The impact should have shattered bone. Instead, Harry absorbed the force, skidding back but standing firm.
Njörun's eyes gleamed. "Oh? You are interesting."
Harry didn't waste words. He lunged, and Space itself screamed as his clawed strike tore reality apart.
Njörun barely dodged. The air where she'd stood split, a jagged rift hanging in the void.
She landed lightly, her smile sharpening. "A power that rends concepts…" She twirled her spear. "How delightful."
Harry was already moving. He lunged—not with power, but pure fury. A flurry of blows forced Njörun to give ground, her graceful spear dances countering each strike. Then she ascended, weaving runes in the air.
"Celestial Hunt: Divine Starfall."
Stars twisted. Spears of light began to fall like heaven's judgment, dozens of them.
Harry didn't flinch.
"O sky, you feared me once—when I leapt to bite the sun. Fall upon me, and be devoured, Ravenous Skyfang"—Fenririan Rend!
He leaped, a blur of motion.
One of the divine spears came close—he bit into it with his Authority, not literally, but the air distorted as his power tore it apart like flesh. The rest came down fast.
He darted through the rain of stars, using the shattered fragments as footholds. A spear grazed his shoulder—his blood hit the ice below.
Njörun waited in the air, her gaze solemn now.
"You are not yet the wolf who ends the world."
Harry landed before her, breath heavy, fire in his eyes.
Then she raised her weapon—and the sky bent.
Stars warped. The air thickened with the weight of fate itself.
"Threads of Destiny, Bind."
Invisible chains coiled around Harry, weaving through the fabric of existence. His muscles locked—
—until Devour Magic flared. The bindings dissolved like smoke.
Njörun laughed. "Well played. But let us raise the stakes."
She thrust her spear skyward.
"Celestial Hunt: Divine Judgement."
The heavens exploded.
Golden lances rained down, each a meteor of divine judgment. The battlefield became a storm of annihilation.
"Forged from fear, bound by deceit—Gleipnir held me once. But I am no longer chained. Let fetters shatter!"
—Unyielding Will
Harry moved.
His body, honed by Unyielding Will, danced through the barrage. One spear was unavoidable—so he met it head-on. With a roar, he slashed with Fenririan Rend, unraveling the attack mid-flight.
But Njörun was already behind him.
Her spear flashed toward his throat.
Too close.
He twisted, catching the shaft between his arm and ribs. Pain flared, but he held. Their eyes locked—
—and Harry smirked.
Devour Magic surged through the spear, draining its radiance. Njörun's eyes widened as her weapon dimmed.
With a snarl, he hurled her across the battlefield.
She landed gracefully, laughing. "Oh, this is fun."
Harry panted, sweat stinging his eyes. He'd held his own—but Njörun was playing.
Good. So was he.
He rolled his shoulders, golden light crackling around his fists.
Njörun spun her spear, the air shivering. "Strength alone does not make a king."
Harry grinned. "Good thing I'm a fast learner."
The goddess's smile vanished. "Then prove it."
She raised her spear—
—and the world split open.
An abyss of swirling stars yawned beneath them. Chains of cosmic energy erupted, lashing toward Harry like serpents.
This was no longer a battle.
It was judgment.
Harry braced—
—and his body froze.
For the first time, his limbs refused to obey.
The chains closed in.
The chains of fate coiled tighter, their celestial light burning against Harry's skin. Njörun hovered above the abyss, her spear raised in final judgment.
"Yield, little king," she commanded, her voice resonating with the weight of eons. "Even stolen divinity has its limits."
Harry's muscles strained against the cosmic bindings. His Devour Magic flickered—but the chains held. They were no mere spell to consume; they were the universe's own laws given form. Her Authority.
Yet—
A memory surfaced. Not his own, but Fenrir's.
The great wolf bound by Gleipnir, the unbreakable ribbon. The gods' laughter as they sealed his fate. The centuries of gnawing, of relentless fury against impossible bonds.
Harry's golden eyes blazed.
"You're right," he growled, blood dripping from his clenched teeth. "Stolen power does have limits."
He stopped resisting.
The chains surged forward—
—and Harry bit down.
With teeth, Fenririan Rend unleashed in its purest form. His jaws of conceptual annihilation closed around the chains of fate—
—and tore.
The sound was like the sky ripping apart.
Njörun's eyes widened as her bindings shattered. The backlash sent shockwaves through the battlefield, toppling glacial spires like dominos. Harry landed in a crouch, his form wreathed in golden fire and swirling void.
"But I'm not just a thief," he spat, rising slowly. "I'm A king, A god slayer, A Campine who slayed the wolf who breaks chains."
The goddess recovered swiftly, her spear flashing to a defensive stance. "So you are," she murmured, something like respect coloring her tone.
He would not be held down.
He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips.
This was fun. This was really fun.
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