Amon vs. Valkyrie

The moment I stepped into the arena, I could feel Amon’s eyes on me, burning with anger. He was still furious about the judo throw in the first phase, and now he wanted revenge. His glare told me everything—it was personal.

“I’ll make you pay for embarrassing me, noble,” he spat, his voice full of venom.

I stood tall, ignoring the chill running down my spine. His anger only made me more determined. This fight wasn’t just about winning anymore—it was about giving justice to those who didn’t make it this far. I wasn’t going to hold back.

“Begin!” Hecate’s voice echoed, and Amon wasted no time.

Before the signal had even fully reached us, he moved. Flames erupted from his fingertips, shooting straight toward me. I barely dodged in time as the heat nearly burned me alive.

Amon came at me again, waves of fire crashing toward me. I could feel the heat in my veins, but I didn’t let it consume me. This time, I countered.

“Μή τι νεώτερον ἀγγέλλεις!” I summoned a wave of heat, the ground beneath me cracking as magma surged upward. A shield of steam and heat formed between us, blocking his fire. The flames fizzled out.

Amon frowned, surprised. “Vixen, you and your cheap tricks!”

I didn’t respond. I kept my eyes on him, waiting for his next move. The heat inside me kept building, but I held it in check.

Without warning, Amon raised both arms, and a whirlwind of fire surrounded him. The flames swirled faster, creating an intense storm. The air thickened with heat, waves of fire crashing toward me.

Amon smirked, his voice dripping with condescension. “You think you can survive this? You’re just a little girl playing with fire.”

I didn’t flinch. Instead, I summoned a molten shield. “Not this time, Amon.” The magma formed a barrier, and his flames collided with it. The storm hissed but didn’t break through.

Amon’s smirk faltered. “What the hell...?”

I didn’t wait for him to recover. I charged forward, pushing through the steam and lava surrounding me. As I closed the distance, Amon’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“No way…” he muttered, trying to pull back. But it was too late. I grabbed his arm and threw him to the ground with a judo move.

The arena went silent. I stood over him, my voice cutting through the stillness. “Are you done yet, Amon?”

Amon gritted his teeth, struggling to rise. “You think you’ve won?” He spat blood. “I’m not done yet.”

His voice was full of fury, but there was hesitation. I could see the fear in his eyes, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“This is the end, Amon,” I said, stepping back. “Admit defeat.”

As I turned my back on Amon, thinking I had the upper hand, the arena suddenly fell deathly silent. A flicker of movement from the corner of my eye made my blood run cold.

Before I could react, Amon’s voice rang out, low and taunting. “You think it’s over?”

With a sudden, wild motion, Amon raised both of his arms high, his magic surging around him. The air crackled, and the ground trembled. Flames exploded from his body in a massive wave, rushing toward me in a roar of fury. I couldn’t move fast enough.

The fire hit me with such force that I felt my body thrown back, crashing to the ground. My skin burned instantly as the heat tore through me, scorching my flesh. I gasped, trying to shield myself, but there was no armor, no protection. Only the brutal force of Amon’s flames.

But the pain wasn’t just from the fire—it was something worse. The cursed wound, the ice spell Master had cast to prevent my curse from hindering me, melted away in the intense heat.

The fire wasn’t just burning me—it was unlocking the curse, setting it free to torment me.

The agony was indescribable. The curse gnawed at my insides, twisting through my veins as the flames continued to scorch me. I screamed, not from the fire itself, but from the curse that turned into a searing hot blaze, tearing through my body. My vision blurred, and I struggled to stay conscious, my entire body wracked with pain.

Amon’s voice rang in my ears, mocking and triumphant. “You didn’t think I’d let you walk away unscathed, did you?”

I couldn’t answer him. My body shook uncontrollably, and the cursed wound burned more fiercely with every breath I took.

I could feel the magic of the curse tearing at my body, each pulse of pain sending shockwaves through me. I collapsed to the ground, unable to keep myself upright any longer.

Amon loomed over me, a cruel smirk spreading across his face, having no idea that the curse was more painful than his cowardly move.

But even through the pain, something inside me refused to break. I couldn’t let this be the end. Not like this.

Through the haze of agony, I forced myself to move, trembling as I tried to rise. My hands scraped against the ground, burning and blistering, but I didn’t stop. The curse, the fire—it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let Amon have the last laugh.

Amon began to kick my stomach and body, each strike sending waves of pain through me. He tortured me relentlessly, and with each blow, I could feel my strength fading. I gripped my wand tightly, trying to hold onto something, anything, that could keep me from breaking.

The audience, Tabitha, Dion, and even Master looked so concerned. Their voices echoed through the arena, desperate and full of worry.

"Stop now, Val!" Master’s voice cracked with urgency, his words a plea wrapped in frustration.

"My Queen, please!" Tabitha’s desperate cry echoed through the arena, while Dion joined in, trying to convince Hecate to stop the fight before it was too late.

But I didn’t look at them. My eyes were fixed on Hecate, fierce and unwavering. I refused to give in, refusing to let them see me broken. I wasn’t done yet. I would not yield. My spirit burned as fiercely as the fire that threatened to consume me.

Then, in the midst of the chaos, I felt it—the voice of the World Tree, clear and resonant in my mind, pulling me from the abyss of despair. "Use me properly."

The words gave me the strength I needed. I gripped my wand tightly, focusing all my remaining mana. The air around me seemed to tremble as I gathered everything I had left.

Amon, preparing to strike again, was caught off guard as a wave of power surged from me, pushing him back. He was thrown to the edge of the arena, crashing hard against the ground. Everyone felt my overwhelming mana gathering around me.

I could barely stand, my body trembling with exhaustion, but I refused to fall. The curse still seared within me, yet the fire that had once consumed me now felt distant, manageable. My thoughts cleared, the haze of pain lifting just enough for me to hear it again: “Use me.”

The voice of the World Tree resonated deep within, steady and unwavering.

“Yes,” I whispered, gripping my wand. “I will.”

“ἱερὸν ἰατρικὸν!” The ancient words carried a surge of power, and from where I stood, vibrant magical plants began to sprout and coil around me. Their glowing tendrils wrapped gently over my burns and wounds, soothing them as they knit my flesh back together. Every injury I had endured from the fight vanished, though the cursed wound remained untouched, pulsing faintly like a dormant storm.

"Those plants…” someone whispered as the crowd of wizards and witches watched in awe. The magical vines looked just like the ones that had sprouted when my mana went wild at the Evergreen mansion.

The healing spell finished its work, leaving me whole, except for the cursed wound still faintly throbbing. I stood tall, strength returning to my body, and met Amon’s gaze. His arrogance was gone, replaced with fear.

“You’ve lost, Amon,” I said calmly. “For the second time, admit defeat.”

Amon, with his last ounce of strength, tried to push himself up, but his body refused to obey. He collapsed back to the ground, too injured and exhausted to continue.

“Valkyrie advances!” Hecate’s voice rang out, firm and final.

The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps, but I barely heard them. It was finally over.