Winstone raised his ax in front of his body and leaned back. Stakes grew out of the glass under Winstone. But he noticed the constructs. Winstone glanced down and jumped in the air. In the same breath, he pushed his ax’s blade against his feet.

Ragna clicked her tongue. Then how about this?

She tapped her glove, and the gravity manipulator activated. For a second, blue light covered her like a second skin.

But nothing happened.

The ice bounced into the weapon. The metal withstood the impact and crashed the stakes beneath its weight.

What the…? Ragna starred at her glove and grumbled.

Did Jareth lie to her or make a mistake? Either way, the manipulator wasn’t working. She couldn’t rely on it for the fight. And thanks to the lack of Mana, the stakes grew slower than in inside Ymir’s tower. Her opponents would notice them in time. To win, she had to change her battle strategy.

Ragna activated the Ura rune, and a bubble of water formed in the air. The construct’s shape morphed into a blade, and its edge froze.

Reflecting Winstone’s neck on its surface, the weapon jetted at him. Winstone rolled to the side. His boots pushed into the ax’s shaft and propelled it into the air. The two weapons clashed, the ice broke, and the force burst the construct.

Water splattered down on Winstone, freezing to needles. He jumped from his position into the air and grabbed his ax. Swinging the weapon around his axis, the blade pulverized the projectiles. Ice dust spewed from the impact and obscured the air with mist as Winstone laded on the ground.

Ragna clicked her tongue.

Relying on her runes alone wouldn’t cut it.

She raced towards him under the mist’s cover and swung her saber. With his instincts alone, Winstone noticed her attack. He dashed backward, but Ragna drew her seax from her garter belt and thrust it at him.

Winstone slid to his right, and Ragna attacked with her saber. As he tried to avoid her blade, Ragna lunched forward with her seax. In tandem, she used her weapons, pushing Winstone further against the ring’s edge. But Winstone managed to grab his ax with both hands and took a swing.

Ragna’s eyes widened. She raised her swords in a cross formation above her head. Winstone’s ax hit her blades, but neither a sound erupted nor did the weapon’s weight push her down. Instead, Ragna pushed back, and Ray jumped backward.

How strange. Ragna looked at her opponent’s weapon.

The ax could withhold her attacks, but it didn’t deal much damage.

The flame markings on the lowest part of his weapon started to glow.

Winstone glanced at his ax and scowled. “The countdown to your dream’s funeral has begun.” His voice lacked any pathos. Disdain and sobriety fueled his words. “I’m going to wield this wretched power that can only destroy futures.”

Ragna’s eyes focus on the ax.

So, his weapon was a Ysbryd. From his words, its abilities seemed to resemble Quin’s. But why didn’t he seem to like his soul mate?

Ragna stomped with her foot. “Even if I lost here, you think I would just give up?” She pointed her saber at Winstone as a ring of water manifested above her head like a halo. “I’ll rise and rise again until I claw my way to victory.”

Ice stakes jolted from beneath Winstone’s feet and, in a single breath, he leaped forward.

The ring above Ragna’s head pulsated. Dents and prolusions emerged from its sleek design. Ragna started to run, and the construct rotated. Salvos of water bullets shot out of it at her opponent.

Winstone swung his ax, deflected the bullets, and landed.

“What?” He shrieked as his feet slipped under the ice Ragna had spread out.

Ice stakes protruded out of the glass, their points racing into his temple. And Walter salvos bombarded him at the same time. They punched into his body and pushed him further against the ice.

At the last moment, Winstone swung his ax. It cut through the stakes and catapulted their sharp ends away. And while he was still falling, he rotated around his axis, performed a flip, and landed without further issues

Winstone groaned. Bruises peaked under his clothes where the water had struck him. Blood dirtied his jacket’s fabric, and the second set of flames flared up.

Ragna exhaled, wiping away the beads of sweat from her forehead.

It wasn’t her imagination. Winstone’s offense and speed had increased while his defense had decreased. Did his Ysbryd change his “stats” whenever the marks on the ax lit up?

“You’re pathetic.” Winstone glared at her and fletched his teeth.

“Well, this pathetic girl just kicked your ass.” Ragna pulled out her tongue and flicked one of her pigtails with her hand.

“Is this a game for you?” He shook his head and pressed his palm into his face. “You really think you can try again? Wake up. There are no second chances. You lose, you die.” His voice inflated, and Winstone let out a roar. “You’ll never succeed in life if you’re this half-assed. So, put your life on the line like you fucking mean it.”

His facial features sharpened, and a grin appeared on his face. It tore through his skin and widened his smile to the rims of his cheekbones. His teeth flashed under the blood and flesh, showing Ragna their wish to rip her apart.

He shouted to the sky and stormed towards Ragna, his ax following him like wings. Winstone’s feet stomped over the ice and evaporated it to steam. He started to wave his ax around without care or direction. Whatever it could find, it would shredder. Within seconds, he had closed the distance between him and Ragna.

Winstone brandished his weapon against her legs. Ragna jumped into the air over the blade, and Winstone chuckled. He turned his ax at a ninety-degree angle and swung it upward.

Fuck. Ragna’s iris shrunk. In a reflex, she tried to jump.

The gravity around her vanished. All the weight that pushed against Ragna’s shoulders disappeared. Her body became as light as a feather, and Ragna leaped forward. She escaped the weapon’s blade, landing on the ground.

Huh? What just happened?

Ragna had no time think about it. Before Winstone could reclaim his stance from the swing, Ragna attacked with her saber. He turned around and bashed his weapon into her chest. The gravity manipulator activated again, the ax’s weight decreased, and both weapons cut into their opponents’ chests. Blood gushed out of the wounds.

Ragna winced and jumped backward, distancing herself from Winstone. She pressed the back of her hand against her chest. Her body twitched as the contact sent a pulse of pain into her brain.

It hurt, but he could have cut deeper into her wound. The gravity manipulator must have reduced the damage by decreasing the ax’s weight. If she had to guess, it activated because the glove resonated with her desperate need to use it. Apparently, she could affect gravity for a single moment. In turn, it didn’t have to endure a cool-down period. Though, it seemed she couldn’t use it multiple times in quick succession.

Ragna looked at Winstone. Even though the wound she had inflected cut deeper, he didn’t react. Another set of flame marks flared up, and Winstone glared at his weapon. Anger burned in his eyes as much as the gravure on his ax. His desire to break it asunder seemed to overweight his desire to tear her apart.

“You really hate your Yysbryd.” Ragna lowered her eyelids. For a moment, she forgot that he was the opponent she had to defeat. “Honestly, that’s quite sad.”

An image of Grendel flashed before her eyes.

Yeah, they were similar in that regard.

“I don’t need your pity.” Winstone crunched his teeth. “I’m a monster. I exist to fight heroes. This is my destiny.”

“Still not a hero,” Ragna said nonchalantly.

“It’s a monster’s purpose as well to terrorize the weak.” His nails and teeth sharpened, his muscles increased in size, and patches of fur covered the back of his hands. As his pupils dilated, his face darkened and started to stretch.

Winstone removed one hand from his ax. He roared into the sky and lunged forward. He swung his Ysbryd, and Ragna brandished her swords. Their weapons clashed; Saber and seax parried the ax. Winstone roared anew, adding his sounds to the cheers of the audience.

Ragna squinted with her eye. The pressure he exerted forced her to her knees, but she pushed back. Winstone threw his free arm, and Ragna stopped to hold him back. She jumped backward. His claw tore into nothing, and Winstone swung his weapon.

But then, he let the ax go and darted it into Ragna.

Please work. Please work. Please work. Ragna jumped into the air, and as she prayed, she activated her glove. The gravity within her vicinity decreased, and Ragna performed a second jump. She sheathed her saber and formed an ice dagger on the palm of her free hand.

Ragna threw the construct, aiming at Winstone’s skull. He turned his head and caught the dagger with his teeth. As his fangs pierced the ice, Winstone threw his weapon at Ragna.

A rope of water formed around her. It wrapped one end around Ragna’s hand and the other coiled around Winstone’s neck. She swung around his body and landed in front of him. Before he could react, she jumped forward and placed a kiss on his lips. His body stiffened, and gasps escaped his mouth. From her tongue, ice crept into his lungs.

Ragna landed on the ground, increased the distance, and smiled.

No matter how strong he would become, he still needed to breathe. She wouldn’t kill him, but once he had lost enough air to lose consciousness, she would cancel the rune. The ice would disappear, and he would survive. Of course, the damage could kill him, but she was willing to take the risk.

“You…” Winstone’s face lightened up. His pupils grew, and he started to laugh.

Ragna gulped.

What was happening now?

“That’s more like it.” Winstone’s voice had deepened to the point that it had lost all resemblance to his original one. Like an earthquake, it hallowed through the arena, having twisted and distorted to the sounds of a legion. Everything human had vanished from it. “Once you’re cornered, you start to shine.” He reached for his jacket, and in one move, he pulled it off alongside his shirt. “Everyone has a chance to be a hero against a monster.”

Ragna widened her eyes. Fuck.

Two flame-like markings glowed on his abs, and more that had yet to light up covered him up to his chiseled chest. “The time’s up. It’s you who’s lost. I’ve given you a chance to be a hero and defeat the monster. But now, your tale will end on a tragic note. Beware and tremble as you face the true power of my Naegling.”

His muscles started to bulge, and his bones enlarged further. Fur started to cover his skin. His skull reformed into a new shape. A wolf’s face fletched its fangs at her on top of an anthropomorphic body that might belong to the cross of a bear and a wolf.

The beast roared into the sky, and anew, the audience cheered. For them, the main spectacle could begin. Even if the bloodshed allowed the dead to find their final rest, the spectators had joined to witness the excitement and brutality.

Winstone stormed into Ragna, throwing his claws at her. Ragna attacked, as well. Her opponent’s fangs tore into her body, his fang pierced her muscles, and his body, he rammed into her like a bull. In turn, Ragna slashed him with her seax. The poison seeped into his body, but the beast didn’t slow down as he grabbed her head.

Winstone roared. He raised his arm into the sky and slammed Ragna towards the arena’s edge. Her weapons slipped out of her hands, and Ragna winced on the glass.

“Looks like that is the end of the line.”

With her remaining strength, Ragna’s head turned towards the source of the voice. The lights and colors of her environments had mixed and mingled into a blur. She couldn’t make out anything.

A silhouette appeared within her vision. It stood out from the rest of the world and moved closer to her. The silhouette’s features cleared up.

Ragna’s fogged mind recognized the patterns and assigned them to the one being with whom they matched.

Her Fylgja had appeared.