The golden gates of the Eternal Hunt yawned open, their celestial carvings pulsing with an eerie duality—both the relentless pursuit of the hunt and the shifting mists of the dream realm swirled within its archway. Harry's vision blurred at the edges as the gate's power washed over him, warping reality like a half-remembered nightmare given form.
Njörun stood before the threshold, her spear now fused with the gate's energy. "The hunt never ends," she whispered, her voice echoing from all directions at once. "Now fall into my embrace and the darkness of eternal slumber.
Harry's knees buckled as the world rippled.
One moment, he stood on the battlefield—
—the next, he was falling through an endless sky, Njörun's laughter curling around him like smoke.
No.
His Authority of Unyielding Will flaring. The dreamscape cracked, revealing the frozen wasteland beneath—but the gate remained, its power now bleeding into reality.
Harry clenched his fists, his body aching, wounds burning with divine venom. His left arm remained useless, and his ribs screamed in agony, but his mind remained sharp, and focused.
He could not afford to lose.
Njörun moved first.
She thrust her spear forward, and the chains of fate roared to life once more, twisting through the air like serpents. They struck at Harry, seeking to drag him into the celestial abyss.
Harry reacted.
His Fenririan Rend surged to life, his right hand carving through the very fabric of existence. The moment his claws met the chains, they shattered, undone by his authority to tear through all.
But Njörun was relentless.
She appeared behind him in a blink, her spear descending like a comet. Harry twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding a fatal strike—but not unscathed. The spearhead grazed his side, cutting deep, divine energy searing his flesh.
Pain ignited his senses.
But pain sharpened his mind from the ever present lure of sleep that pulled at his mind.
Devour Magic.
Harry reached out with his authority, absorbing the remnants of Njörun's lingering power from his wound, dulling its lethal intent.
Njörun's expression flickered with intrigue. "Even injured, you fight well," she admitted. "But you still resist your fate."
She raised her free hand, and the Eternal Hunt responded.
Njörun's form flickered between corporeal and mist.
The phantom beasts that emerged from the gate were worse than before.
Celestial hounds with constellations for eyes. Wolves woven from forgotten nightmares. Each step they took left trails of shimmering mist that made the air itself sluggish, dragging Harry's movements as if through tar.
Harry lashed out with Fenririan Rend, but his claws passed through one beast like mist—only for its fangs to rip into his shoulder with very real pain.
Dream. Neither wholly real but not truly an illusion. For dream do infact have effect upon reality.
Njörun's spear struck from impossible angles—sometimes solid, sometimes piercing his mind directly. Blood dripped from his nose as the dream venom seeped into his thoughts, whispering of endless sleep.
"Devour Magic!"
He grabbed a hound's spectral form and willed it into nothingness. The energy burned through him.
He pulled harder.
The battlefield became a blur of destruction. The celestial beasts swarmed him, but Harry tore through them, his movements sharper, more instinctual. He was learning, adapting mid-fight, pushing past his limits.
Then Njörun struck again.
She moved faster than before, her spear a golden blur, forcing Harry onto the defensive. Each clash of their weapons sent shockwaves across the battlefield, reshaping the land itself.
The ice beneath them fractured, vast chunks of earth rising into the sky from the force of their battle. The heavens above twisted with raw energy, as if unable to contain the power being unleashed.
Harry could feel it he was running out of time.
Njörun was still stronger, still more experienced. Every second the battle dragged on, his injuries piled up. He couldn't afford to keep fighting at her pace.
He had to end it.
Njörun materialized before him, her spear tip pointed towards his chest. "Yield and accept your death" she murmured. "And I'll make your dreams pleasant."
Harry grinned through bloody teeth. "Never going to happen."
Now.
He slammed his hands together—
—and unleashed everything.
All his Authorities at once.
Fenririan Rend tore through the dreamscape.
Devour Magic consumed the gate's energy.
Unyielding Will anchored him to reality.
The gate screamed.
The dream and hunt domains collided, reality folding in on itself like crumpled parchment. Njörun's form fractured—half solid, half mist—as the paradox of her twin authorities ripped her apart from within.
"Impossible!" Her golden eyes widened as the gate's archway cracked. "No mortal can—"
"I'm not mortal," Harry growled. "I am a Campione."
She rushed forward her spear thrusting to end him.
He gritted his teeth, focusing every ounce of his will. Unyielding Will surged through him, amplifying his instincts to their absolute peak.
He did not dodge the next strike.
He stepped into it.
Njörun's eyes widened as Harry caught her spear with his bare hand.
Divine energy burned his palm, but he did not let go.
Her moment of surprise was all he needed.
Fenririan Rend—Full Power.
With a roar, he lashed out with everything he had, his authority no longer just tearing through reality—but through divinity itself.
Njörun's spear cracked.
One final lunge—
—and his claws pierced not flesh, but concept.
The Eternal Hunt gate behind her shuddered.
Njörun's golden eyes flickered with shock as she was sent hurtling back, crashing into the celestial gate with an impact that shook the world.
The gate trembled, its light flickering, the connection between worlds wavering.
The world seemed to still for a single moment.
Then the gate exploded.
Njörun's body dissolved into starlight, her last whisper curling into his mind like a fading dream
"We'll meet again child, until then don't die little king. We'll hunt again... in your nightmares..."
Then silence.
Harry exhaled sharply, his body finally giving way as he dropped to his knees. The power that had sustained him flickered, the weight of battle crashing down on him all at once.
But he had won.
He had slain yet another god.
But this time it wasn't luck.
Harry collapsed onto real ice.
Harry's laugh turned into a cough. "Yeah. Should've seen that coming."
As darkness took him, the ice beneath his fingers shimmered briefly—reflecting not his face, but a grinning wolf's maw.
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