r/RecordOfOurRagnarok

Round 5

Saladin vs Erlang Shen

The Sultan of Mercy and Steel vs Heaven’s Unblinking Eye

The score stands:

Humanity — 2

Gods — 2

For the first time since Ragnarok began…

the gods are uneasy.

Humanity has proven they can kill gods.The divine audience no longer laughs.Meanwhile, humans are emboldened.

The arena buzzes with tension as Heimdall steps forward.

“ROUND FIVE!”

The battlefield transforms.

Golden sand spreads endlessly beneath a burning sun.

Then—

the desert splits apart.

On one side:

the shining walls of Jerusalem.

On the other:

massive celestial gates floating among clouds.

Earth and Heaven face one another directly.

The sound of marching feet echoes across the sand.Not chaotic,Disciplined.

But to only a lone mounted warrior clad in elegant armor of green, gold, and steel.Calm eyes,Steady,posture,No hatred.

Only resolve.

Heimdall raises his horn.

“A king among conquerors!”

“A warrior respected by enemies and allies alike!”

“The man who reclaimed Jerusalem!”

“THE SULTAN OF MERCY!”

“SALADIN!”

Humanity roars.

Even many gods watch carefully.

From the stands, Richard the Lionheart smirks proudly.

“About time they sent a proper king.”

Places one hand on the hilt of his shamshir.

Then looks toward Heaven’s gate.

Thunder rolls across the sky.

The celestial gates open.

A divine army descends in perfect formation.

At their center walks a tall warrior dressed in black-and-silver armor with crimson accents flowing behind him like banners.

A third eye rests closed upon his forehead beside him walks a massive white celestial hound.

Every step radiates absolute authority.

Heimdall announces:

“Among Heaven’s warriors…”

“None are more dependable.”

“None are more relentless.”

“The greatest hunter of the Celestial Court!”

“HEAVEN’S UNBLINKING EYE!”

“ERLANG SHEN!”

The gods erupt in cheers.

Even Ares looks impressed.

Sun Wukong lounges in the audience grinning wildly.

“Oooh, this’ll be good.”

Erlang Shen studies Saladin carefully.

Then speaks.

“You carry yourself like a god.”

Saladin answers calmly.

“No.”

“Merely a man trying to be worthy of those who follow him.”

The third eye twitches slightly.

Saladin draws his blade.

Erlang Shen opens his third eye.

The pressure explodes outward.

The desert cracks beneath them.

Then—they vanish.

CLANG!

Their weapons collide at impossible speed.The crowd erupts immediately.Unlike previous rounds, this is not chaos.

It is mastery

Every movement deliberate and Every strike calculated.

Two commanders testing one another.

Erlang Shen gradually begins overwhelming Saladin.

The third eye predicts footwork,breathing,muscle tension

And attack timing

Every move Saladin makes is countered instantly.The gods begin regaining confidence.

Ares laughs.

“Human skill means nothing before divine perfection!”

Saladin is slowly forced backward.

Yet—

he never loses composure.

Jerusalem falls.

His soldiers await slaughter.

Years of war have filled everyone with hatred.

Instead—

Saladin orders mercy.

Prisoners spared.

Civilians protected.

Ransoms lowered for the poor.

One commander asks:

“Why show kindness to enemies?”

Saladin looks toward the city quietly.

“Because victory means nothing if you lose yourself achieving it.”

Erlang Shen strikes Saladin across the chest.

Blood stains the sand.

Yet Saladin’s eyes remain calm.

His Völundr glows brighter.

“MERCIFUL KING”

The more composed he becomes—

the stronger the blade grows.

For the first time Erlang Shen’s attacks are redirected instead of blocked.

The audience gasps.

Saladin is turning divine power against Heaven itself.

Floods devastate entire kingdoms.

Gods argue endlessly over responsibility.

Erlang Shen acts.

He carves mountains apart to redirect rivers.

Slays monsters threatening villages.

Stands alone against disasters while Heaven debates.

Mortals worship him because unlike many gods—he protects.

Not for praise.

Because it is his duty.

Back in the arena—

both fighters are heavily wounded.

The celestial hound snarls protectively beside Erlang Shen.

Saladin steadies himself.

Then says quietly:

“You are wasted among arrogant gods.”

The arena falls silent.

Erlang Shen responds:

“And you were born among creatures too cruel for your mercy.”

Neither truly hates the other.

Erlang Shen fully opens the third eye.

“Judgment of Heaven”

The sky itself tears apart.

Divine light descends like a spear from Heaven.

The entire arena trembles.

Human spectators collapse from the pressure alone.

Even Saladin’s sword begins cracking.

Sun Wukong whistles.

“He’s actually serious.”

Saladin charges directly into the divine light.

The audience screams.

His flesh burns instantly.

Yet he keeps advancing.

Step by step.

His sword glowing brighter with every wound.

The Crescent of Jerusalem absorbs the divine energy itself.

For one brief moment—

the impossible happens.

Saladin reaches Erlang Shen.

Their blades clash one final time.

Silence.

Then—

CRACK.

Saladin’s Völundr shatters.

The divine light pierces through his chest.

Humanity goes silent.

Saladin falls to one knee.

Erlang Shen catches him before he hits the ground.

The god’s expression is solemn.

Respectful.

Saladin smiles faintly.

“A worthy guardian…”

Erlang Shen lowers his head.

“A worthy king.”

Saladin dissolves into green light beneath the desert sun.

No cheers come from the gods.

Only silence.

Winner

ERLANG SHEN

The score shifts once more:

Gods — 3

Humanity — 2

But as Erlang Shen leaves the arena

many gods are disturbed.

Because for the first time…

one of Heaven’s greatest warriors hesitated before claiming victory

Round 2

Dante Alighieri vs Charon

Humanity’s Pilgrim vs Ferryman of the Damned

The arena is silent.

After Gilgamesh’s death, humanity’s confidence has already been shaken. The gods sit smugly in their stands while the human audience grows fearful.

Heimdall raises the Gjallarhorn.

“ROUND TWO OF RAGNAROK!”

A deep horn echoes across Valhalla.

Humanity’s Entrance

The gates creak open.

Not with an army.

Not with a king.

But with a lone man in simple red robes carrying a book.

The human audience murmurs in confusion.

“No weapon?”

“A scholar?”

“Humanity sent a poet?!”

He walks into the arena, visibly impressed by the sheer scale of the audience watching him.

Heimdall announces:

“This man descended through Hell itself!”

“The poet who mapped the sins of mankind!”

“The dreamer who walked the road between damnation and salvation!”

“HUMANITY’S PILGRIM!”

“DANTE ALIGHIERI!”

Humanity’s side is uncertain.

The gods laugh openly.

Ares nearly falls out of his seat laughing.

“THIS poet is fighting next?!”

But in the crowd, one figure quietly watches with pride.

Virgil.

Beside him stands Beatrice.

Dante grips his Völundr tightly:

La Divina Commedia

The pages begin turning on their own.

The God’s Entrance

The arena lights dim.

Then vanish completely.

A terrible creaking sound echoes through the darkness.

Water begins flooding across the arena floor.

Black water.

Still water.

A boat emerges from the shadows.

Massive.

Ancient.

Rotting.

At its center stands a towering figure cloaked in rags, face gaunt and corpse-like, holding an impossibly long oar.

The souls of the dead scream beneath the water.

Heimdall’s voice lowers.

“Before kingdoms…”

“Before heroes…”

“Before memory itself…”

“There was already one who carried the dead.”

“The Ferryman of the DAMNED!”

“CHARON!”

The gods fall silent.

Even they respect him.

Charon steps off the ferry his boat floating in mid air

The round begins.

Dante looks up at The pressure radiating from Charon is overwhelming.

Charon slowly speaks.

“You are the poet.”

Dante responds.

“...And you are exactly as terrible as I imagined.”

Charon’s dead eyes narrow.

“Imagined?”

Styx starts flooding the ground shooting up geysers of black water.

Dante barely dodges as the arena floor dissolves beneath the Styx managing to create a small platform of hellish terrain.

The audience panics.

One touch of the water causes stone to decay instantly.

Dante opens the manuscript.

Pages ignite.

“Through me the way into suffering…”

Chains burst from the ground.

Infernal winds roar across the arena.

Spectral sinners drag themselves from beneath the earth.

The gods stop laughing.

Dante isn’t physically strong.

But his imagination manifests reality itself.

The fight becomes surreal.

Every verse changes the battlefield.

But None of it matters.

Charon gets on his boat and rows forward through Hell itself completely unfazed.

Charon has seen every horror humanity can imagine.

Charon jumps off his boat lands on the ground runing towards Dante who is sending spectral sinners and blinding winds to block his path but Charon managers to strikes Dante once with the oar.

Sending him flying back The injury is not physical His soul itself feels crushed.He suddenly experiences every fear he has ever had exile,failure,irrelevance and death

Charon quietly says:

“You know nothing of the dead.”

Flashback — Dante’s Exile

Young Dante wanders Florence alone after exile.

Friends abandon him.

Citizens mock him.

He watches his home disappear behind city gates.

For the first time in his life:

he truly understands despair.

Virgil appears beside him.

“If humanity suffers… then give suffering meaning.”

The flashback ends.

Dante rises again.

This time calmer.

The manuscript glows white instead of red.

The battlefield transforms.

Hell disappears.

A mountain rises beneath the arena.

The souls around Dante begin climbing upward.

Even Charon pauses.

For the first time in countless ages

Charon sees hope.

Dante attacks not with hatred but understanding.

Charon’s Flashback

For thousands upon thousands of years…

Charon ferries souls endlessly.

Children.

Warriors.

Kings.

Mothers.

Every single one begs for more time.

Eventually…

their voices stop meaning anything.

Death becomes routine.

Emotion dies.

Duty remains.

Charon raises his oar.

“Final Crossing”

The entire arena floods with the Styx.

The giant ferry manifests behind him.

Human spectators begin collapsing merely from feeling its presence.

Dante realizes the truth:

Charon is not evil.

He is inevitability.

The final barrier every living thing must face.

Dante smiles weakly.

Then opens the final pages.

Paradiso

Light explodes across the arena.

For one brief moment…

the audience sees Heaven.

Not the realm of gods—

but humanity’s hope for something greater.

Even the gods are stunned silent.

Of the scene of the Heavenly view clashing with the Styx

Dante walks forward through the black river with la divina Commedia glowing with heavenly and infernal energy.

And says:

“I understand now.”

Beatrice cries in the audience.

Virgil smiles proudly.

Charon for the first time in eternity…

Charon hesitates before realizing that he'll be defeated if he doesn't act fast he start running across the surface of Styx dodging the Heavenly and the infernal energy spewing out of la divina Commedia Charon managers to push through and with a powerful thrust---

The oar pierces Dante’s chest.

Silence.

The manuscript falls into the river.

Winner

CHIRON

No cheers come immediately.

Charon stares at Dante’s body feeding away into green particles.

Then quietly says:

“I was wrong, poet.”

“You did know the dead.”

Dante get's a small smile on his feeding face

As Charon leaves

the waters of the Styx fade away

the Ferryman looks tired As he walks back through the gate he here's the people mourning Dante.

An angel’s agony

The once green grass is stained red with blood covering every inch. The mangled corpses of angels strewn out across the battlefield, limbs bent beyond normal limits, wings removed from their backs. Amongst them all a single writhing creature stares up at the angel, the greatest threat to the heavens, the serpent of heaven, Satan. Its head stretches up as it lets out a bellowing screech that rings out across all of the heavens, the surviving angels around the archangel having to cover their ears. Michael looks down at the serpent and grips her sword with all the strength in her body, both her hand and the hilt drenched in her blood. She takes a deep breath as her gaze locks with Satan’s. Both suddenly charge through the air at each other, wings beating hard and the air booming around them. Satan’s mouth opens wide as Michael raises her sword high, the blade glowing as she does. The two close in and the serpent’s fangs are inches away from her body when…

Michael’s eyes shot open as she stared up at the ceiling of her room, a cold sweat over her body as she laid in her bed. She placed her hand on her forehead and felt the dampness as she sat up, a thousand yard stare on her face, her breath heavy. “That dream again,” she quietly mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose, “how long must it haunt me?”

Michael forced herself out of bed and splashed some cold water in her face before collecting her sword and leaving the room without another word. Silently, Michael walked to a training room and gripped her sword with a strength that would threaten to break any other weapon.

An hour later, a lone figure dressed in a long black dress that flows behind her walked into the doorway and saw the archangel standing before a set of training dummies, the sacks torn to shreds and the stuffing covering the ground. Michael weakly raised her sword to strike again and went to swing down on the dummy, but was stopped by the visitor grabbing her wrist. “Michael, stop before you harm yourself.” Michael’s grip on the sword loosens and it slips out of her grip, clattering down to the ground. “The same dream again?”

Michael weakly turned to face the visitor, their face faintly shaded by the black veil she wore though Michael can still see the concern in her face. “I can’t be that weak again, Azrael. I just can’t,” Michael says, her eyes filled with a pleading exhaustion.

“Another war isn’t going to happen. You don’t have to fear losing so many to a horrific event like that again. You can rest Michael, the weight of responsibility of being ‘the guardian of heaven’ doesn’t have to haunt you every day.” Azrael’s gloved hand moved from Michael’s wrist and to her shoulder, the exhausted angel’s body dropping limp and into Azrael who catches her before she drops to the ground. “And even if the heavens lose their stability, the angels’ strength has grown, we shall be able to fend for ourselves.”

“It’s not just the title that hangs over me. I don’t want anyone to die again. I don’t want you to die, Azrael.” Michael was unable to look up at Azrael, her head hung low so the angel of death brought her to the wall where they both sat to continue talking. “How did you even find me here?”

“You weren’t in bed this morning so I feared you had that dream again. Knowing that you always come here whenever you remember the war, I came here and found that my fears were correct.” Azrael pulled out a glass bottle of water from her hip and handed it to Michael. “Here, I knew you’d need something to help you recover.”

“You know me too well.” Michael took the bottle and started to drink, the cold water inside being more refreshing than she expected. She drank half of it in a single breath before passing the bottle back to Azrael who drank a mouthful before putting it down. “If you don’t mind me asking Azrael, how do you do it? Your whole life is surrounded by death. You have to watch as humans lose those they care about and you’re responsible for it all. So how, how do you deal with that?”

Azrael stayed silent a bit as she looked up at the ceiling. “It’s tough to say. Our two roles carry very different weights on our shoulders. Yours is to save lives while mine is to take them, though that isn’t to say my role makes it any easier,” explained Azrael before looking back at Michael. “Seeing the faces on the loved ones of the mortal I must bring the ultimate end to will always be painful, especially for those that were young. No amount of exposure makes it any easier but no matter the pain, I have to perform my role or else humanity will suffer. To me, bringing the final breath to any mortal is a mercy as without it they will continue to suffer. The elderly will become too frail to move, the terminally ill will continue to feel pain forever. If I could let humans live forever without suffering I would, but as they are now that world won’t be here for millenia. Obviously it may not apply the same to you, but it’s what gets me through my duties.”

Michael reached for the water and took another gulp of water. “I see. Thank you Azrael. I’ll try to relax and see if that helps with the memories but I want you to know that even if I won’t train in fear of a future war, I want to keep up my strength to be able to protect those I hold close.”

Azrael softly let out a light chuckle at Michael’s seriousness. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you Michael.” She stood up and helped Michael back to her feet and handed the angel her sword. “I doubt you’ll need to protect me in the future, I’d be a sorry excuse for an archangel if I couldn’t protect myself.”

Michael took the sword out of Azrael’s hand and looked at her with a weak smile before the veiled angel left her alone in the training room. “Maybe, but no matter how long it is, I can never shake those fears from my head.”

Decades passed and Michael’s fears slowly began to subside though that nagging fear of losing everyone close to her never left her. To avoid becoming rusty, Michael continued to practice her swordsmanship, occasionally duelling Azrael when the angel wasn’t busy with her duties. Peace remained in the heavens all throughout that time while humanity continued to develop down on earth. Discussion on what to do with humanity started to pop up amongst the gods though most were fine with humanity surviving, Azrael one of the larger voices on the side of humanity staying.

Even more decades passed until that one day Michael feared arrived. She stood alone in her training room, the lights dimmed. A single messenger walked in and said a single sentence. “Lady Michael, Azrael has died.”

Michael stood there in a stunned silence, too many words getting caught in the knot in her throat, silent tears ran down her face. The messenger left the angel alone before she dropped to her knees. “Azrael… I couldn’t protect you. I’m… sorry, I’m so so sorry. Forgive me please… I couldn’t fulfil my duty.”

She grabbed hold of her sword and both memories of the war in heaven and memories of Azrael handing her the sword flashed in her mind. She gritted her teeth and gripped both the handle and the blade with all the force she could, the blade cutting into her palm and drew blood. She stood up and faced the training dummies around her, her vision blurred with tears. “Azrael… I…” Michael fell silent again as she tried to stay steady on her feet before letting all the pain in her chest out in one bloodcurdling scream. “AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Hundreds of thousands of times Michael’s blade cut through the dummies, her mind unable to leave the visions that plague her mind. She cried out for forgiveness amongst her cries of pain, her body begging for her to stop. Over and over again, Michael struck the training dummies until her body eventually gave out, collapsing to the ground despite her mind crying to let out all her mixed emotions of the dummies. She tried to claw at the ground to continue to shred the dummies, but her body was completely exhausted and soon her exhaustion caught up to her and she passed out on the ground, surrounded by the destruction of her grief.

When the angel awoke, she felt completely empty, the death of Azrael leaving a void within the guardian of the heavens. “I failed her. I let her die. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I failed in my duty. I’m so sorry Azrael, I never meant to fail you. Please Azrael, forgive me. Forgive me for my failure. I never meant to let you die.” Michael remained on the floor, crying, begging for things to be different and forgiveness. It was on that floor that Michael shifted from the caring guardian of those close to her, to the strongest soldier under Gabriel, the cold, unfeeling general that would never fail a duty again no matter what was asked of her. But behind the empty void within her, the memories of her past remained, a permanent scar within the angel.

Valhalla arena

Michael looks down at the beast below, visions of the great serpent overlapping her vision. Her sword nearly slips out of her hand as every muscle in her body screams for her to flee, but nothing in her body acts the way she wants as she hovers in the air above the monster below. Then, the vision of her greatest enemy shatters and an even greater monster pulls her into the present.

Michael’s eyes turn wide at the sight before her, the frame of the man, no, of the beast before her in an instant, letting out a war cry close to a howling dog. Those sharp eyes that pierced her before are now filled with wild fire. The gigantic spear is raised high above the vanguard as Cu Chulainn brings his jaws down upon her.

A thunderous blow rings across the arena, the audience only seeing a cloud of dust after Cu’s leap into the air. The dust settles down, the body of a bloody and beaten archangel laying in a crater as the demi god begins to descend down, the angel unmoving aside from her racing breaths.

Cu points his spear downward before throwing it while mid air, Michael who managed to block the previous blow notices the spear coming down through her blurry vision, dodging to the side as it stabs into the ground. Her wings move once more before the human attempts to crush her beneath him. The champion of mankind doesn’t move his gaze away from her, yanking Gae Bolg out of the earth and rushing towards the angel.

Swing, swing and swing, wild movements that leave no opening, they shatter the ground around combatants with each miss. Michael does everything in her power to parry each swing though her swordsmanship has turned sloppy compared to before, Cu pushing forward with each one. A wild hound relentlessly hunting his prey.

Through the wild storm of attacks, Michael’s guard continues to slip more and more, the spear cutting through her skin and her once white dress is now  pure red, the silver wings slick with blood. Cu shifts his stance and the muscles in his body all flex and grow, the cape he wears breaking loose from his body and drifting to the floor.

Not a moment later, the angel feels a deep impact at her side, an impact as if a massive log just smashed into her. With a loud roar, the human sends her flying into the wall, Michael's body bouncing off of it. Her sleeve was torn to shreds, forearm left broken and rotated beyond its joints. She cries out in pain as she drops to her knees, the crowd watching in horror as heaven’s strongest angel is treated as nothing more than a dog’s chew toy.

And yet he did not stop, Cu running at her with Gae Bolg pointed right at her, Michael barely managing to move at the last moment as it ran through the wall. Cu’s head snaps immediately at her as he does not pull the spear out, swinging it through the wall as if it wasn’t even there to begin with.

Another beat of her wings gets Michael out of immediate range and into the air once more. The angel hoping for a chance to reset, though the demigod would not let that come to be..

Running across the wall, before jumping off it in a span of less than a second, even in the skies Cu Chuculainn catches up to Michael. Gae Bolg finds its mark once more, catching her in the chest and launching the angel across the arena with an explosive hit that echoed through the colosseum.

Cu landed down on the ground, moving again to his enemy. Across both mankind and the gods, a similar thought runs through their minds.

‘No one, not human or god.’

Each step shatters the ground below him as he closes the distance.

‘With that huge body and that spear, no one should be able to have strength such as that.’

And Gae Bolg moves for another killing blow on the angel. The spear tip pierces the air and Michael stumbles to the side in an attempt to dodge though it’s nowhere near enough to truly dodge as the spear digs into her side and pins her against the wall, her limbs limp as she hangs in the air.

The monster stares at the pinned angel who stares past him, eyes glossy and her lips softly move to whisper the only words she can manage. In her fading view, Michael sees a familiar figure descend from the light to approach her, time stopped in her view. “Azrael… please…”

I don't know if you guys would want more do you guys want more

Round 3

The Red Baron vs Fujin

Humanity’s Crimson Ace vs Heaven’s Tempest King

The score stands:

Gods — 2

Humanity — 0

Fear spreads through humanity’s stands.

Two fighters dead.

Two overwhelming defeats.

Even the Valkyries begin doubting themselves.

The gods laugh openly now.

Ares grins.

“At this rate, Ragnarok won’t even last a week.”

Then Heimdall raises the Gjallarhorn once more.

“ROUND THREE!”

Lightning cracks across Valhalla.

The arena transforms into an endless sky.

Floating debris, clouds, and steel platforms hover thousands of feet above an invisible ocean below.

The audience looks upward nervously.

A distant engine roars.

Small at first.

Then louder.

LOUDER.

A crimson triplane bursts through the clouds at impossible speed, spiraling around the arena before narrowly missing Heimdall’s head.

The crowd erupts.

The plane lands roughly atop a floating platform.

A tall man steps out calmly in a crimson flight coat.

Cold blue eyes.

Calm posture.

No fear whatsoever.

Heimdall shouts:

“The battlefield of humanity once belonged to the land…”

“But this man conquered the Sky's themselves!”

“The legendary ace with eighty confirmed kills!”

“THE DEVIL OF THE SKIES!”

“MANFRED VON RICHTHOFEN!”

“THE RED BARON!”

The Baron adjusts his gloves.

Then looks upward.

Waiting.

The clouds begin rotating unnaturally.

Thunder shakes the arena.

Wind screams from every direction at once.

A massive tear opens in the sky itself.

Out of it descends a gigantic figure carrying a great bag across his shoulders.

Wild hair.

Fanged grin.

Eyes glowing green.

The wind bends around him like a living thing.

Heimdall roars:

“He is the roar within every storm!”

“The breath of typhoons!”

“The terror that tears kingdoms apart!”

“HEAVEN’S TEMPEST KING!”

“FUJIN!”

The gods cheer wildly.

Raijin pounds the stands laughing hysterically.

Fujin looks at the tiny airplane.

Then bursts out laughing.

“THAT is humanity’s warrior?!”

The Baron lights a cigarette.

“You’re loud this might be an easier Hunt than I thought”

The Battle Begins

Fujin swings one arm casually.

The resulting wind blast obliterates entire floating islands instantly.

The Baron narrowly dodges in his triplane.

Humanity gasps.

One direct hit would completely erase him.

But then—

The Baron smiles as the sky erupts into chaos.

The Crimson Valkyrie darts through hurricanes and pressure waves at impossible speeds.

Fujin attacks are like natural disaster: sending debris hurling around with Stadium with columns of air circling around

The Baron flies through all of it.

Barely.

Every movement is razor precise.

Heimdall screams:

“HE’S DANCING THROUGH THE STORM!”

The gods begin realizing something horrifying.

Flashback to a Young Manfred crashes during an early mission.

His plane burns beside him.

He stares upward at birds gliding effortlessly through the air.

For the first time…

he falls in love with the sky.

War turned the sky into hell.

And he mastered it.

Fujin Gets Serious

Fujin’s grin fades.

“Human…”

“Why are you smiling?”

The Baron reloads calmly.

“Because this is is a challenging Hunt.”

Fujin roars with laughter.

Then unleashes:

“WRATH OF THE TYPHOON GOD!”

A colossal storm descends into the arena.

Entire sections of the sky vanish inside spiraling winds.

Even gods shield their eyes.

The Baron disappears completely.

Humanity panics.

The Silence

Then—

Gunfire.

Tiny at first.

Then closer.

Fujin looks upward.

The Red Baron emerges from ABOVE the storm itself.

The crowd loses its mind.

He used the storm currents to climb higher than Fujin could even perceive.

Ace Instinct activates fully.

For a brief moment—

The Baron sees the flow of every current in the battlefield.

The wind no longer belongs to Fujin alone.

Fujin unleashes a continent-splitting gale.

The Baron dives directly toward it.

His plane begins tearing apart instantly.

Wings shredding.

Engine exploding.

Metal ripping away.

Yet he keeps going.

Fujin screams:

“Why do you fly when you know you'll die by my hands ”

The Baron grins.

“because that the fun of the hunt”

The Crimson Valkyrie pierces through the center of the storm.

At point-blank range—

The Baron fires directly into Fujin’s head.

Silence.

Then the storm stops.

Completely.

Fujin stumbles backward.

A massive hole burns through his head.

The god looks shocked.

The wind around him begins fading.

He laughs weakly.

“So that…”

“is why humans fly…”

Fujin dissolves into green light.

The storm clouds vanish.

Blue sky appears above the arena.

Winner

THE RED BARON

For the first time in Ragnarok—

The gods are silent.

Then humanity erupts.

Screaming.

Crying.

Cheering.

The red Barons plane comes plummeting to the ground there is a moment of silence before

The Red Baron steps from the wreckage of his destroyed plane.

Bleeding heavily.

One arm broken.

Barely standing.

But alive.

He lights cigarette.

And quietly says:

“ that was a good Hunt.”

​

Round 4

The Black Douglas vs Camazotz

Scotland’s Darkest Knight vs The Death Bat of Xibalba

The score is tied.

Gods — 2

Humanity — 1

After the Red Baron’s impossible victory, humanity finally has hope again.

The gods, meanwhile, are irritated.

Ares slams his fist into the arena wall.

“One lucky human doesn’t change anything.”

Hermes smiles quietly.

“Perhaps.”

“But fear has entered Heaven for the first time.”

Heimdall steps forward.

“ROUND FOUR!”

The arena changes instantly.

Gone is the open sky from the last round and instead a dense black forests stretch endlessly beneath a blood-red moon.

Ancient stone ruins rise from the jungle floor.

Torches flicker weakly.

Something moves in the dark.

The audience grows uneasy immediately. As War drums echo. and then Bagpipes answer them.

As a dark cloaked figure wearing heavy armor and the massive claymore slung across his shoulder. His very presence feels predatory.

Heimdall raises his voice:

“England feared him!”

“His enemies called him a demon in human flesh!”

“The blade of Scotland’s independence!”

“THE BLACK DOUGLAS!”

“JAMES DOUGLAS!”

Robert the Bruce stands proudly in the audience.

Douglas walks forward slowly.No arrogance,No theatrics,Just cold focus.

He plants the massive sword into the ground.

Then torches suddenly extinguish.

One by one.

The jungle becomes silent.

Then—

a sharp metallic clicking echoes through the darkness.

Not animalistic.

Intentional.

Elegant.

A figure emerges atop the ruined temple.

Tall.

Lean.

Wrapped in feathered black-and-crimson robes resembling folded wings.

His face is hidden behind an ornate bat-like death mask carved from obsidian and jade. Turquoise jewels glimmer around his throat and crown. Long clawed fingers drag across stone as though testing prey.

Behind him, shadows twist unnaturally like living wings.

The gods go quiet.

Even among divine beings…

Camazotz feels wrong.

Heimdall announces carefully:

“In the deepest darkness of Xibalba…”

“There exists a god feared even by those who worshipped death.”

“The hunter within the eclipse!”

“THE WINGED NIGHTMARE!”

“CAMAZOTZ!”

The jungle trembles.

Some human spectators instinctively avert their eyes.

Camazotz tilts his head slowly toward Douglas.

Then speaks in a soft, distorted voice.

“You smell like someone who believes themselves too much”

Douglas smirks faintly.

“aye ye smell like something needing killed.”

The Battle Begins

Camazotz vanishes.

Instantly.

Douglas barely raises his sword in time.

SCREEEEEECH—

Claws slam against steel hard enough to split the ground.

The audience gasps.

Camazotz moves less like a beast—

and more like an assassin.

Every movement sharp.

Precise.

Cruel.

He disappears into darkness again.

“Night Devours All”

The moon vanishes.

Absolute darkness swallows the arena.

Human spectators panic.

Even gods struggle to see.

Only two glowing turquoise eyes remain visible in the void.

Then blood sprays across the ground.

Douglas staggers back with deep cuts across his armor.

Another strike.

Another.

Camazotz circles invisibly, carving him apart piece by piece.

The god’s voice echoes from every direction.

“Humans fear the dark because they know…”

“they are prey.”

Young James Douglas kneels beside the ruins of his family home.

English banners fly overhead.

His inheritance stolen.

His family disgraced.

Robert the Bruce offers him a hand.

Instead of despair—

Douglas chooses war.

Enemies begin calling him:

“The Black Douglas”

Not as insult.

As warning

Douglas breathes heavily.

Bleeding badly.

But smiling.

Camazotz pauses.

“Why do you laugh?”

Douglas lifts his claymore.

“Because I know your type.”

Silence.

“Thinks fear makes him king. It doesn't but it make you one hell of a fighter”

His Völundr activates fully.

“TERROR OF THE NORTH”

The arena changes.

The darkness itself begins recoiling from Douglas.

Not because he overpowers it—

but because he embraces it.

The fear in the audience shifts.

Camazotz suddenly realizes something horrifying.

Douglas is not prey.

He is another predator.

In the depths of Xibalba…

Ancient priests throw screaming sacrifices into darkness.

Camazotz descends silently.

To him, terror is sacred.

Fear strips mortals down to their truest selves.

That is why he loves it.

Camazotz spreads his arms.

Eclipse of Xibalba

The blood moon cracks open.

Thousands of spectral bats flood the arena.

The darkness becomes alive.

Douglas is overwhelmed instantly: flesh torn open, armor shattered ,blood covering the ruins

Humanity screams his name.

Robert the Bruce grips the railing tightly.

Camazotz descends from above like death itself.

Claws aimed directly at Douglas’ throat.

At the last possible second—

Douglas drops his sword.

Camazotz pauses instinctively.

Wrong move.

Douglas grabs the god by the throat.

The audience explodes.

“FOUND YE.”

Point blank—

Douglas headbutts him hard enough to crack the obsidian mask.

For the first time—

Camazotz looks shocked.

Douglas retrieves his claymore.

Then roars out “FOR SCOTLAND,FOR HUMANITY!”

One full-powered swing cleaves through the darkness itself.

The blood moon shatters.

Camazotz is cut diagonally across the chest.

The jungle falls silent.

The god stumbles backward.

His cracked mask slowly falling apart.

Beneath it—

not a monster.

But a tired, beautiful, deathly face staring in disbelief.

Blood drips from his lips.

He laughs softly.

“So this…”

“is mortal fearlessness…”

His body dissolves into green particles and The darkness finally lifts.

Winner

THE BLACK DOUGLAS

Humanity erupts as The Black Douglas stands alone beneath the returning moonlight covered in blood.

He picks up his sword.

Looks toward the gods’ side.

And gives them the same expression England once feared.

A predator’s grin.

I I'm already halfway through the next one so it will be coming out real shortly

​

The human and the angel were as still as the now calm water that filled the arena. The monk sat on the soil of one of the islets and the god stood on the isle in front of it.

Benkei seemed relaxed, while Michael looked tense, but yet still neither moved a muscle. The audience watched with baited breath for anything to cut through the suspense.

SCHWIMM!

Within the blink of an eye, Michael shot off a barrage of feathers from his good wing and Benkei had parried them with a seamless movement from his arm without standing up.

"............" Both fighters stared at each other.

"It seems our combatants have reached a stalemate" Sandraudiga announced while the entire crowd awaited for the fighters' next move.

<>

"What!? Why did he stop!?" Themis shouted in frustration "You were destroying him just a minute ago! Go up there and shove your spear-"

"First of all, it is Naginata" Minamoto interjected "Second of all, this angel is faster than Bennie, if he were to chase him, he would never catch up and only tire himself out, it would just be playing into his game, by just sitting and waiting until the angel changes his plan allows him to keep control of the pace of the fight, as well as get in some rest"

".....Huh" The titaness mumbled mildly amused.

"What?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"You actually spoke like a respectable general now" She comments surprised.

<>

"MICHAEL YOU UTTER FOOLISH IMBECILE! If you just got your head into the game already, then this would be over already!" Sekhmet screamed at the sight "I know you care for humanity, but Cyamites would be putting on better performance!"

"I don't know if I should be offended on behalf of my entire race for this comparison just in and of itself, or proud of Michael, for you have such faith in him you are trying to make excuses for him" a deep voice said behind her as a figure walked into the area, instinctively setting Sekhmet on alarm.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU-" She began saying before her scowl refrained itself as a formal frown "I am sorry Lord Metatron, i didnt recognize you"

[METATRON - HIGH ANGELICAL PONTIFF]

"It is nothing to worry about" He said calmly while walking forward with his hands behind his back, much like Ra he carried with himself an aura of strength despite his oldened look,much like his hair his wings had lost color, now being more yellow unlike Michael's golden wings, and his physical build, cloaked by white robes, wasn't as impressive as the egyptian sun god.

"It has been a while Metatron" Ra commentated with his arms crossed "I didn't expect you to show up, considering your distaste for violence"

The old angel sighed as he took a seat close to Ra "I didn't intend to do so as well, but upon hearing that Michael was wounded....i had to see it for myself"

"Awwww so you were worried for your baby boy" Bastet teased while looking back at the two elders.

"Partly" Metatron admitted "But i also couldnt believe it that a human was able to wound Michael, much less be able to force him into a stalemate"

"So the news have spread this quickly?" Ra asked mildly surprisedly "I suppose it is quite shocking"

"Indeed, humanity is fascinating, no? They have grown so much since Eden" Metatron said with a smile "I wonder what else they would have been able to achieve with a few more years......"

'*Michael.....what happened to you?'* Metatron thought to himself while looking down at the arena.

<>

"This is pointless" Michael complained while crossing his arms "You are just delaying the inexorable! What do you think will change by you stalling around?"

"So even after everything, you are still looking down on me" Benkei replies calmly.

".....Pardon?" The angel asked, taken back.

"You are looking down on me, like you have been doing on all of my kind ever since the very beginning of this match" the monk elaborates "Even after everything that transpired, you still don't see me as an equal. When you offered me your 'mercy' at the start of the duel, it was because you earnestly thought you could kill me in a single move regardless of what i did"

Michael's gaze softened "You are an amazing warrior, Human, you might even be the strongest of your kind, but-"

"-'you still can't compare to a god'? Is my assumption of what you were about to say correct?" The human interjected with a raised eyebrow.

The angel's expression hardened as he tried to pick his next words very carefully "It is a fact that the majority of humans don't stand a chance against a god"

"I imagine it could be a surprising sight indeed, but even then, one could expect someone who claims to care for humanity so much would be more open to the idea of our evolution" Benkei said before narrowing his eyes "In fact, one would expect someone who supposedly claims to care for humanity to not be fighting for their doom"

"You don't understand anything!" Michael protested, anger and frustration slipping into his words "Up until this year, upon each single meeting I voted for your race. I protested when the others were against, I argued and debated to give you one more millennia, I took matters into my own hands to guide your kind, I tore out my brother's wings with my bare hands for your people. And what do I see? Humanity blinded by their pride, their greed making them unable to see how their gluttony and lust for power is leading them towards their own extinction, consumed by their own wrath against each other as they cull their own numbers in envy of what they lack, and the few exceptions are too full of sloth to do ANYTHING to change things! What I am doing by voting against you and fighting here is simply putting humanity out of its own misery!"

"Like putting down a mad dog?" Benkei asks immediately after his opponent's rant "I don't doubt that you hold some level of affection for humanity, but you certainly don't care for us, you can't truly care, truly love something you think is so beneath yourself. You think you are doing us a favor by extinguishing us because deep down, that is all you can see us as, mere animals, that are acting out and need to be taken care of. You are tricking yourself into believing you are fighting for a righteous cause, but deep down you know that this is all for a simple reason, your pride"

"Enough prattle" The angel stated in a resolute tone as he stood up and readied himself, his face having a scowl on it for a moment before he just barely managed to recompose himself "You want to fight me up close? Then have at you!"

Michael then quickly sheathed his sword and clasped his hands together while his eyes locked straight ahead at his opponent as a warm golden aura began to coat his body.

A thousand may fall at your side,And ten thousand at your right hand; But it shall not come near you.

[DOMINUS REFUGIUM - DIVINE REFUGE]

The archangel then unleashed his blade and launched himself at Benkei, using his good remaining wing to blast off currents of air from behind that elevated his speed further. The monk in turn got to his feet and began the use of his signature attack and began his rotation.

The vacuum created from the movement of the fighters led to a whirlwind forming around the islet they stood on due to the sheer speed and power of the combatants.

"The fighters are now finally back in action!" Nike commented while being held back by Sandraudiga to avoid being sucked in the vortex "Hold on your seats everyone! It seems that the real clash is starting NOW!"

"The unstoppable force is ramming the unmovable object right on!" Sandraudiga added.

The sword of the angel collided with the naginata of the human, as the blades clashed the cyclone that surrounded the fighters paused for a second in that small moment. But as soon as both warriors began to push their weapons to gain ground over their opponent, the whirlwind unfurled itself aggressively, imploding upon itself violently and obscuring the fighters and the islet they stood on a veil of water, dirt and mud.

The audience watched in baited breath, not a word from either side, until the combatants became visible again, each standing on a piece of the now split open islet they once had their conversation. Benkei was on his knee, but quickly got up while Michael was laid with his back to the soil before standing up again just as quickly.

Both fighters looked to the side and spat out some blood before immediately charging at each other again without saying a single word.

When they stood both within a few feet away from each other, Benkei slashed his naginata vertically, sliding from the right to the left at Michael, who jumped over the weapon while stomping down his legs against it, planting the blade in the ground momentarily, before using the same momentum to launch a kick at his opponent's face and using it to once again jump back. While still in the air, the archangel started the motion to conjure the spears of fate, 4 of them being materialized in the instant the god's feet landed on the ground below the water, and within the next instant, the angel springed in Benkei's direction while the spears followed him from each side.

The human freed his weapon from the ground and just as quickly crashed it down again, shooting a massive gust of wind forward.

[TONDE IRU RYUSEI]

The god was blown away while half of the spears were destroyed, but two of them kept in their way, Benkei attempted to use Kamogawa Uzumaki, but he didn't had enough time to start the motion, with the spears colliding against his chestplate and blowing up on impact, sending him a few meters into the air.

Benkei landed on his feet and dusted himself off, Michael got up to his feet, he had multiple small gaches on his face and a few strands of his hair fell onto the water, but despite that, he seemed overall unharmed.

Without waiting a moment to regain their breath, both charged at each other again.

The human slashed sideways towards his opponent, who swiftly dodged and readied himself to attack, the monk then began the motion for his defensive rotation, but as soon as he did the angel had jumped back out of the range of the technique, and in the instant that Benkei ceased to spin, Michael closed the distance again and hit his sword against the human's chestplate, while attacking at such high velocity the archangel didn't have enough time to put the necessary strength in his attack to cleave his opponent in half, but the hit was still enough to make Benkei stagger backwards.

Without missing a beat the saint then jumped to try to behead his opponent, who just barely avoided the attack and attempted to counter with an upwards slash of his naginata, which was once again dodged.

Benkei proceeded with his onslaught at close quarters, but Michael weaved through all of his attacks, landing hits that staggered the mountain of a man and dodging with expert time every time the giant attempted to use his signature technique, using his good wing to give him small boosts to move faster and better adjust himself.

'We have been fighting for less than ten minutes, and he already has learned the way I move? Heh, as rotten as he is, he truly is a terrifying warrior' Benkei thought to himself, grimacing as for the first time in the battle he was the one needing to concoct a plan to overcome his opponent.

Knowing Michael would remain in the close range, as staying too far away from each other would just lead to another stalemate, Benkei slowly began moving towards another one of the islets, with the angel following while still dodging every attack. The monk kept attacking with full force and velocity even though he knew the chances of any of them hitting was incredibly small, he needed to keep his opponent focused on this loop of combat for his plot to work.

The moving deadlock eventually made its way towards one of the islands, and soon after Michael had avoided an attack and landed on one of the bridges, seemingly shifting the dynamic of the scuffle.

'It is over now, within the bridge's space, you can't dodge unless you leap backwards, which will leave you open to my Tonde Iru Ryusei, if you try to jump out of the bridge, you won't be able to fly away with your broken wing, leaving you vulnerable, there is nothing you can do!' Benkei thought.

He raised his naginata, his opponent was in range,he began to swing his weapon down to end the fight-

FLASH!

Michael had carved his sword into the bridge, and a blinding light erupted from the spark created from it, blinding the monk.

'This is one of my most effective techniques whenever I can pull it off, although also my most telegraphed and easy to dodge, i wont be able to get the human to lower his guard again after this, i have to finish this now!' Michael thought.

He clasped his hands together and began to cloak himself with the golden aura of Dominus Refugium, before thrusting his palms forward and screaming.

"YEHI'OHR!"

Benkei, still recovering from his sudden blindness, attempted to use his defense enough, but he was not fast enough in his stunned state, the torrent of light enveloping him while he was in the middle of his Kamogawa Uzumaki. The light enveloped half of the bridge and the entirety of the island it was connected to and devoured them both, leaving no trace of the two and making Michael have to jump to the island behind him as the bridge collapsed.

The saint collapsed to his knees, but he didn't give himself any time to breathe and immediately began to look for his opponent among the smoke of the scorched land and structure.

As the smoke cleared, Benkei stood seeming unharmed at a glance, until his Naginata could be seen at the ground, then his left arm became clear, the armor in it was completely gone, revealing the flesh of the limb, completely burnt and mangled in an unnatural way. \*I'm glad i was still able to somewhat block it and only lost an arm, if that had hit me head on...'\* He started leaning down to pick up his Naginata with his other arm, until suddenly Michael collided with Benkei while covered in golden flames like a shooting star.

The angel's Leviathan Slayer technique pushed the monk all the way to the corner of the arena in mere seconds, the collision of his body against the arena's stone wall sending cracks that spread from his chestplate like cobwebs all the way to the arena walls that began to crumble and making him vomit blood, the viscous liquid drenching the archangel's hair and painting his face red.

'Not yet!' the angel mentally shouted to himself as he then wrapped his arms around Benkei's waist and jumped into the air, using the human's body as a meat shield against the falling rock debris.

The archangel began flapping his wings, a loud snapping sound being heard as the broken wing was forced to move, but Michael was forced to move it again.

'HIGHER HIGHER HIGHER!' He screamed to himself mentally as he kept rising into the air despite the pain of breaking his wing even further.

Benkei began using his good arm to repeatedly punch down at his opponent's head, each strike making the angel cough up blood, but he kept flying regardless.

The monk then used his hand to force down Michael's broken wing right as it flapped upwards, crackling an even nastier snapping sound and making them both start to plummet. Benkei held onto the falling angel and tried to adjust him so that he could be used a cushion for the fall and control the direction towards the spot they were fighting earlier, but using his good remaining wing to create a gust of wind forward, Michael was able to spin them both in the air and remain atop of the human as they fell to the ground.

BOOM!

The impact of their collision against the ground blew all the water away and created a huge crater within the arena soil, which quickly began flooding with the receding water.

Before the hole was completely filled, a winged figure jumped out of it before landing clumsily on the shallow water.

'If I hadn't coated myself with Dominus Refugium before, this fall would have broken all my bones at the very least, even if the human took the worst of it........i havent been pushed like this since Lucifer......' Michael thought as he breathed heavily despite seeming unharmed 'There is no way he survived this, and if he did, he will drown'

"It was well fought, a worthy send off to your kind" Michael said while looking at the crater now fully filled with the water before he turned in the direction of the announcers "It is over now, call it off"

Neither Sandraudiga or Nike said anything, they just stared past Michael with a bewildered look on their faces.

“....What is it with you both now?” The angel asked, distraught.

"You are far too hasty" a grave voice said beneath him

Michael turned around in the direction of the voice before feeling a crushing weight falling upon his shoulder, forcing him to one knee on the ground as he stared directly at Benkei's face, whose torso now was completely exposed without armor.

"What!?" He said in shock as he tried to break away from his opponent's grip but was unable to move while being held by the monk's mangled and scorched arm "WHAT!?" He repeated in shock at seeing the state of the limb holding him down while the human raised his Naginata with his good arm.

<>

"AGAINST ALL ODDS THE HUMAN IS NOT DOWN FOR THE COUNT YET!" Nike announced loudly, reverberating through the entire arena.

The announcement reverberated through Themis’ ears as she held onto the railings of her balcony, although the positive news did little to stop the fastened beating of her heart.

".....Lady Themis, do you know how many enemies Bennie killed during the Siege of Koromogawa?" Minamoto asked her.

"Huh?" She replied in mild shock, his words deafened by her heartbeat "Why are you asking me this now? Over 300 i guess-"

"Wrong" The human shot her down

"What!? That is the number of all the books in the bird brain's library listed!" She protested, irritated at his seemingly pointless questioning.

"He killed far more men, 300 was just the number he felled in his single most destructive attack."

-[SIEGE OF KOROMOGAWA, 1189\]-

Upon Gojo Bridge, a rare sight could be seen: a crumbling mountain.

Saitō Musashibō Benkei stood with countless arrows piercing through his armor into his flesh, blood cascaded from his uncountable wounds like waterfalls in his mountainesque visage, but yet, he stood.

His vision was blurry, but he could still see hundreds of enemies still attempting to charge at him, and he did not hesitate.

\*"You see, Bennie is not just a master at deflecting force, he also learned how to keep a little bit of it to himself, absorbing it if you will, usually this doesn't really change anything since he tends to win before things get to this point, but if the fight is long and arduous enough......."

Benkei took a deep breath while seeing the encroaching army charge at him stomping through the corpses of previous enemies he had felled, when the man who led the charge stepped into the bridge, the monk raised his Naginata, the very act causing the pressure of the air to change, making the enemy army stop on their tracks completely.

-[PRESENT]-

[SANBYAKUNIN RAKISEKI: 300 Men Slayer]

The monk brought down his Naginata upon the archangel, who barely to put his right wing in front of himself in an attempt to block, but the human's blade sliced cleaved through it like butter as the weapon was brought down with terrifying strength, its length also allowing the tip of the blade to cut through the angel's armor just as easily. Once the tip of the blade slammed itself into the ground, a powerful shockwave and a massive gust of wind were shot out from it, blasting the saint in the edge of the arena towards the wall with such velocity that multiple waves began to form after him.

Michael crashed violently against the wall, and in a moment later the small tsunamis that were formed slammed against him in the wall, disturbing the integrity of the structure even more and causing multiple debris to fall into the water along with the angel. 

The angel fell into the water, and the debris fell onto him, making him collide against the floor of the arena.

After a moment, Michael tried to recompose, he began pushing the debris off himself until he saw the water being tinted by red.

Despite the sudden new tinge of the water, the angel was still able to locate the source of the color.

A nasty, huge laceration upon his chest, allowing blood and some guts to freely escape into the water.

Michael's eyes widened before he began to drown in his own blood.

idk i just felt like using a bunch of book boys 🤷