The first thing the two fighters did was to create as much space between each other as possible.
As they moved, droplets of blood fell onto the sand. They simultaneously raised their weapons, preparing themselves for any sudden attack. Attila and Tyr were nearing the edge of the entire stadium, standing right in front of the entrance where they entered.
Attila inhaled sharply and lowered his weapon. The effects of his damaged solar plexus have worn off; it can now allow him to perform this attack. He couldn't contain his excitement for this climatic clash; he could not wait to unleash his most powerful technique. Ever since he got the sword of God, he's been honing this technique throughout his life and afterlife.
So far, he's barely used this in his life at all, except for the fateful duel against Aetius, who barely managed to deflect it and survive. Attila couldn't find anyone who could withstand this ultimate move; he didn't know anyone who could stand toe to toe with him. Until now.
He can finally unleash this technique on a powerful foe on equal footing. The excitement was unbearable; he barely managed to hide it. He clenched his blade's handle with so much force that it began to crack slightly.
That hurts, Raguel pulsed.
The Scrouge of God softened his grip. Keeping his eye on Tyr, he lowered his body closer to the ground, and began to stretch his leg. He shifted his stance into a squatting position, channeling most of his body's strength into them for this next attack.
Eyeing the exposed bone on his left arm, Attila rested his palm onto it, and shocked most of the audience by forcing it back into his arm. He wants to look glorious while performing this attack, and the fracture was getting in the way. Shrugging off the pain, he turned his attention back to his godly opponent.
Tyr was also preparing for his ultimate attack.
Like Attila, the Norse god of justice lowered his body, but instead of squatting, he positioned his right foot ahead with his left foot just about thirty centimeters away. Tyr placed his left hand onto the sand, still holding his sword in it. He proceeded to lean forward, facing Attila ahead of him.
Throughout his millions of years of existence, he had never felt this much intensity before. This human, Attila the Hun, was extortionary. He was able to wound him several times, he might even be able to slay him in this next attack. But that made Tyr more hyped to perform his ultimate technique. Only an opponent as strong as Attila can deal with this attack.
Tyr had also barely used this technique throughout his time as a god. He couldn't challenge Odin nor Thor; they barely paid attention to his fighting skills. Any other deity (excluding Loki) of the Norse pantheon would be skewered by this attack. Due to the rules of the divine, it is forbidden to visit other pantheons. So, Tyr was stuck alone, with no one to train nor test his most favorite and most powerful technique.
But that changes today.
Now, it's time to show the other gods the unleashed capability of the one-armed swordsman.
The fighters grinned at each other. They saw each other as worthy adversaries, equal rivals, and what they can consider: a friend. Someone who shares the same power as them and can give them the best fight in their lives. They almost didn't want this fight to end, they wanted to fight like this for all of eternity.
But now, it's time for one of them to fall.
"Are you prepared?" Attila bellowed.
"I could ask you the same!" Tyr responded.
The entire audience could sense the aura emitted by the two. It was awe-inspiring, powerful, and intimidating. The stands of humans and gods were nearly tipping over the edge of their seats. Everyone glued their eyes to the stadium, holding back every instinct to blink, fearing that it would all be over once they did so. They all knew that this was the climax of the first round of Genesis. Many men, women, children, and the elderly held their hands, spreading hope to everyone that Attila would be the victor.
Like mankind, the gods were silent. They were clinging to a single thought: Tyr must win. For their pride and dignity, he must not fall to Attila's attack.
Attila chuckled, startling most of the audience. "I must say." He admitted. "You might be a bastard like many of your kin for pushing us humans to extinction. But you are a damn good fighter. I am glad to have been able to fight you."
Tyr smiled at this compliment. "In my eons of existence, I had never met a strong fighter like you, Attila the Hun. No matter the outcome of this next clash, I am proud to have met such a powerful fighter."
The two suddenly laughed in gratitude of each other's compliments, before suddenly silencing themselves with a more serious expression. And they spoke out the same thing in unison:
"Now, let's finish this!"
Tyr raised his hips and sprinted towards Attila's direction.
"Ah!" Anansi boomed. "Tyr is charging at Attila at high velocity! What great speed! His speed could rival that of Hermes, Vayu or Huitzilopochtli!"
In response, Attila launched himself into the air, throwing himself tens of meters above the stadium.
"And look at that jump!" The spider god added. "Attila has delivered a huge leap towards his incoming enemy! With his longsword reared, he's launching himself towards Tyr, both are about to unleash their most perfect of all techniques!"
Attila predicted that upon landing, he would be in range for his greatest attack. He understood that when he launched his own assault, he would be in the way of Tyr's powerful attack. But no one can achieve anything in life without taking risks. This is a gamble he is willing to make.
With a mighty roar, he spun through the air, rearing his weapon high and building up force to shatter Tyr's arsenal. The god responded with another mightful roar of his, with his sword at the ready as he kept up the pace. The two are closing in second by second; everyone in the spectators' stands held their breath; only one of their attacks will prove to be superior.
And now is the moment everyone is waiting for.
Tyr was the first to perform his attack. His golden sword glowed with a shining white light, spreading throughout the entire blade. Right as Attila was in range, the justice god delivered a swing towards the Hun leader. This technique of his was harnessed by Tyr for thousands of years, dedicated to punishing those who caused injustice to the innocent as well as the mighty foes of the Aesir and Vanir gods.
However, when he joined Thor in one of their campaigns in Jotunheim, Tyr unleashed this powerful move on the fearsome Jotun. But the results unnerved him. The god had caused too much devastation with just one swing of his sword; he remembered the unnecessary casualties and the crying faces of the injured innocents. It was too much for Tyr. He swore to never use that move again, worried that it would cause the same devastation.
This time, the god had made up his decision.
Right now, Tyr will unleash this enigmatic technique for the first time. It won't be fair to die without showing his enemy what he can really do. This move is invincible, it would be the one to finish off Attila the Hun. He will be very impressed if the Scrouge of God managed to survive this technique, which many of his opponents failed to do so.
And the name of this grand technique was:
The Honorable Blade of Justice.
Attila, of course, wouldn't go out without putting up a fight. Clenching the handle of his weapon and taking a sharp inhale, he can't wait any longer to decimate Tyr with his most perfect technique. The Huns began to roar with excitement. Some were able to recognize their leader's potent move; they remembered the power it unleashed and how Aetius barely managed to deflect it. It was beautiful, a spectacle that many warriors should have witnessed in battle.
Now, they're about to see whether Tyr can do the same, whether he can withstand the full power of their leader. Attila was closing the distance between the two second by second. This is it; Attila was about to land on Tyr, where he would unleash his technique.
Attila remembered his battle against Aetius, and a wave of nostalgia engulfed him as he pieced together the moment where he used this technique. The immense power unleashed was beautifully devastating; it was magnificent. The ruined battlefield right behind the Roman general after the attack was hauntingly serene. A warrior would have been proud to have fallen under such a grand attack.
It's coming. It's coming.
Attila was finally going to use his move: The Strike of God.
The two warriors exploded with inhuman courage, their respective blades finally making contact with each other. A massive tremor shook the entire arena, with the clang of their swords following right after like thunder after a bolt of lightning. Afterwards, the clash of metal and their most powerful attack resulted in erupting a massive shockwave which expelled across the stands behind the two fighters.
The shockwave threatened to blow everyone away from their seats, many grasped the railings in front of their seats which saved them from being blasted into oblivion from the tremor, as if the designers somehow knew that one of the fighter's attacks will cause a huge gust of wind that will blow the audience away.
The archangels watched the intense duel from the safety of their VIP box, unaffected by the impact outside. Raguel's three children clung onto each other, their concern for their father's survival overwhelming them. Gabriel bit into the straw of his smoothie out of nervousness; the drink he was sipping was staining his lips. Metatron clenched his top hat, making sure to cover his four eyes from witnessing the battle below.
Uriel held onto his encyclopaedia, his arm drenched in cold sweat despite the air conditioning. Raphael's usual confident and happy-go-lucky smile faded at the possible outcome of the duel. Michael himself was also anxious about the potential results, eyeing the battlefield with an uncomfortable feeling up his spine.
"Oh, yeah!" Not as surprising, Anansi was the only one intrigued by the massive shockwave, with his commentator's box being shielded by Odin's magic, protecting the five (Huginn and Muninn included) guests inside. "Two imposing attacks from the fighters are coming in hot!"
Attila and Tyr unleashed another battle cry, swinging their blades and applying the same amount of force as their ultimate attack to their next swing. Yet again, the attack constructed another shockwave; this time, dozens of poor humans, deities, angels, and demons were blown away by the impact, the railings couldn't rescue them this time. The ground around the two cracked rocks, which were sent flying into the air by the resulting tremor.
"Another devastating blow!" Anansi continued. "Are you all seeing the incredible clash, everyone?! This is truly a spectacle between two supreme warriors!"
Another swing of their swords, another clash, and more catastrophic effects on the stadium. A mixture of sand and dust surrounded the two fighters, preventing the spectators from witnessing the clash.
Even the gods were feeling the intensity of this final clash. Lugh was trembling with anxiety, his spear trembling in his hand. Dionysus refused to keep his eyes away from the stadium, trying to keep up with their movements in the sandstorm. Hathor was clinging to the edge of her seat, trying not to get blasted away like many did.
The chief gods, however, were enjoying this. They reveled in the clash below, finally having some great entertainment they wanted for millions of years.
Zeus stood up, cackling with delight.
Huitzilopochtli threw cutleries into the air, whooping and demanding more blood to be drawn from the fighters.
The Jade Emperor kicked back on his throne, his expression remaining largely indifferent to the fight, though he is quite intrigued in the outcome.
Horus laughed and chanted "Violence!"
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
And Indra simply crossed his arms, leaning against the wall and smirked at the other's expressions.
Attila's longsword scraped Tyr's golden sword, damaging the god's precious weapon. Upset that his weapon was chipped, Tyr responded with his own attack, creating a crack in Attila's longsword. The two warriors executed waves of their ultimate techniques, turning the arena into a violent wasteland as a result.
More dust erupted from their surroundings, and the speed of the two fighters rapidly accelerated, their attacks growing faster as time passed. One of Tyr's onslaughts grazed Attila's shoulder, resulting in a cut. Yes, Tyr did miss, but everyone can imagine the terrifying blows from a direct hit.
But both Attila and Tyr were too focused on delivering massive attacks and failed to notice the damage on their weapons.
The crack on Attila's longsword began to spread across the entire blade as he performed more attacks. Tyr's golden sword is unable to withstand the impact and pressure from Attila's mighty move. The fighters continued their carnage; this is their climax; they have to go all out in this attack. The blades were becoming more vulnerable, and the cracks expanded in size with each blow.
Attila felt the handle pulsing in his palm, and Raguel was warning him about something. Attila refused to pay attention; turning away even for just a second would prove to be fatal for both of them. Raguel pulsed more violently for the second time, and the Scrouge of God finally decided to hear the archangel out.
The blade. Raguel pulsed. It can't hold much longer.
Attila briefly examined his longsword, and Raguel was right. The cracks have spread through the entire blade, and it was about to shatter at any moment from now on.
Attila now realises the severity of his attack, and it's going to cost him his main weapon. However, it's too late to stop right now. He knew that one hit from Tyr would spell the end for both Attila and Raguel. He could not afford to stop. He examined the condition of Tyr's weapon; like Attila's longsword, it was also on the brink of breaking.
Screw it all, Attila thought. Since his enemy's weapon is also about to shatter, he might as well let that happen too.
The two unleashed a powerful and intimidating battle cry, and they swung their blades for the final time. The clash resulted in yet another tremor across the stadium. The shockwave produced was much smaller compared to the previous ones, but it was still large enough to nearly blow the audience from their seats. The ground cracked behind them, and storms of sand erupted behind the two fighters' backs.
And what Attila expected had come to fruition.
The shockwaves and storms resided, and the audience could have a clear look at the condition of the two fighters. Attila's longsword shattered from the final blow; the metal shards were scattered onto the ground. Tyr's sword was in no better condition as well; the once magnificent golden sword is now reduced to a broken and dull blade, not suitable for piercing nor slicing any opponent.
Elysariel and Kaelith's faces streamed with tears, the weapon who is their father, had just been shattered, this could mean the end to his life. Ariel hugged her younger siblings, holding back her own tears. Both humans and gods were speechless at the destruction of both Attila and Tyr's weapons.
"Ah!" Anansi announced. "I cannot believe what I'm seeing here! Attila and Tyr's powerful weapons have now been destroyed!"
Humanity quivered in fear, for their first representative's weapon has now been wrecked, and victory is fading from their arms. The gods, on the other hand, were furious at the outcome. A human is managing to destroy a god's weapon. How is this possible?
Mundzuk, Bleda, and the Huns stared at Attila's shattered blade in denial and shock at first. Their horrified expressions transformed into a smile. The Scrouge of God was not only a master of the blade. Attila stared at his bladeless handle, giving a slight apologetic expression to Raguel, saying that he didn't listen to him, but they both knew that it wasn't over yet.
Attila grabbed the bow behind his back, taking dozens of steps backwards. He fished out an arrow from his quiver and loaded it into his bow. The bow pulsed like the longsword did, filling with Raguel's life force. His three children sighed in relief that their father was still alive and kicking.
"Don't do that again, Dad." Ariel muttered.
Anansi gasped in awe. "What's this?!" He exclaimed. "Attila is now switching to a long-range weapon! With his longsword destroyed, the Scrouge of God has now decided to continue the fight with a longer range."
Tyr smiled at his decision and clenched his fist, with the audience remembering the terrifying blows he could pull with that.
"It looks like Tyr is now resorting to using his mighty fists to continue this battle!" The spider god commented. "Looks like we're all entering phase two of this final clash, ladies and gentlemen!"
The fighters smirked at each other.
"That was fun." Attila said. "It's seriously surprising that you managed to destroy my weapon."
"I could say the same." Tyr agreed.
"I am glad that we can fight together. You're my greatest opponent." Attila continued. "But one of us is going to fall in this next attack."
Tyr nodded in agreement.
"But if I were the one to perish, I must say." The Scrouge of God smiled warmly at his opponent. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity to give it my all."
Tyr smiled back. "If I were the one who wouldn't make it in this next attack, I'd admit that you are strong, Attila. It was a great honour that we had fought each other."
They readied their positions. And everyone held their breath for the next attack from the two fighters.
The first to attack is Tyr.
He burst with incredible speed towards Attila. He's not an expert in archery, but he did know that it's going to be more difficult for Attila to fire at a target closing in rapidly. He'll just have to close the distance and increase his speed to avoid the attack.
Attila fired his first shot, and Tyr dove to evade the arrow that flew past his forehead. He continued his advance as Attila prepared another arrow for the next shot. Tyr is getting closer at a rapid speed. Attila gritted his teeth; he admitted that he's not an expert and was shooting enemies who were insanely fast. But he still had to do this, for the pride of the Huns and for Raguel's children.
He inhaled sharply and launched his next shot. To everyone's shock, Tyr caught the arrow mid-air, though his palm was grazed by the velocity. With a powerful leap, Tyr was a metre in front of Attila, and he plunged Attila's own arrow into the crouch of the human's chest. Coughing up blood, Attila annoyingly slammed Tyr in the back with a massive force, causing him to fall to his knees.
Tyr sped away before Attila could deliver another attack. As Attila readied his third arrow, Tyr charged towards him again. He shrugged off the incoming attack from the god and fired his shot. A direct hit! The arrow landed in Tyr's chest, gushing a small stream of blood. Brushing off the pain dealt, Tyr closed the distance once more, and delivered a punch to Attila's right eye.
His right eye bled from the impact, and Attila was annoyed at the result of the attack: it rendered his right eye permanently blind. Refusing to waste time, Attila plunged his palm onto the arrow stuck out of Tyr's chest, driving it deeper and causing more blood to spill out. This is the right time to perform a technique.
"Blood Red Snow."
Like before, he drilled the arrow into Tyr's chest, expanding the size of the wound and allowing more blood to gush out. Tyr gritted his teeth through the pain and punched Attila's leg to stop the attack. The blow has broken Attila's left leg, and there is no pushing broken bones back in place by force for the Scrouge of God.
Attila stumbled as his new injury rendered him unable to balance himself. But he's not dead yet; he can still fight. He roared and prepared for his fourth shot. Tyr, on the other hand, hurried to the direction of his damaged sword and retrieved it, much to the confusion and shock of most of the audience.
"What's he doing?" Lugh asked. "Is he seriously going to defeat that puny human with that?!"
"Tyr!" Bragi exclaimed. "That broken weapon is not going to do anything!"
He repeated his advance towards Attila, who readied not one but three arrows into his bow, intending to fire them in one shot. Tyr knew it; he predicted that Attila would've tried to shower him with legions of arrows. He noticed that when Attila took an arrow from his quiver, another materialised inside, giving the human an unlimited supply of arrows to use.
And, thankfully, Tyr had the right idea to retrieve his weapon.
Attila fired the three arrows, flying towards Tyr's position. He dashed to Attila's position, clenching the handle, and swung the weapon. While it's true that his golden sword is useless for delivering strikes, it is still suitable for a shield. He swung the blade, deflecting the arrows with ease. However, this move fully destroyed the golden sword, leaving nothing but the handle. Discarding it, Tyr closed the distance between Attila and.
Attila felt annoyed that Tyr was getting closer every time he fired; he had no choice but to resort to using his arrows as weapons. Tyr was close enough for an attack, and Attila seized that opportunity. Fishing out an arrow, he charged forward to intercept the incoming enemy, ready to stab him.
The two unleashed yet another excited battle cry. They both knew at this point; the climax has reached its peak. This is the moment where their lives are on the line. It's time, for one of them to win, and the other to fall.
Attila attacked first, swinging the arrow in hopes of stabbing Tyr's neck to finish the job. But the justice god of Scandinavia caught on with his tactic. However, he decided to tank the attack head on, this is the greatest moment of his existence and the greatest fight he ever had. He shouldn't not hold back in this moment. Tyr delivered an imposing punch as a counter to Attila's blow. Attila felt the intense impact delivered by the punch, the blow shattering the bones within his hand. The pain is outstandingly torturous, even for a pain-tolerant warrior like Attila. His heart pounded with excitement; he wanted more of this pain! He roared and jammed the arrow into Tyr's shoulder.
The god felt delighted at the sudden jolt of pain surging through his left shoulder. It wasn't as agonising as the time when Fenrir bit off his right arm, but it was still positively unpleasant. The two chuckled at the pain and repeated their attacks. The crowd roared along and cheered on the two fighters, the same amount of determination colouring their voices.
"Tyr! You can't lose!" Bragi yelled.
"Brother! Keep pushing!" Bleda exclaimed.
"Son!" Mundzuk cried.
"Raguel! Don't give in yet, man!" Raphael roared.
"Attila! Raguel!" Gabriel wailed.
"Daddy!" Elysariel and Kaelith sobbed.
"Father! You can't perish yet!" Ariel shouted. "We love you! You have to survive!"
"Raguel! For Christ's sake! Don't die in front of your kids! You hear me?!" Metatron demanded.
"Come on, both of you!" Michael found himself cheering on with the rest of the crowd. "Show them who's the best!"
"Make that human sorry for existing!" Lugh cheered.
"Violence!" Horus chanted.
"Crush him!" Huitzilopochtli commanded.
Others joined in the rally, screaming praises for their respective fighters and spitting insults at their enemies. The two fighters performed more ferocious blows, Attila stabbing Tyr with the arrow, Tyr delivering punches to Attila's face. The two needed an opening for the final blow, they needed the perfect timing to strike.
Another punch from Tyr dislocated Attila's left arm. He reacted with another jab to Tyr's shoulder, coating the arrow in the god's blood. Their movements are becoming slower second by second; an opening for either of the two will open soon. They knew this; they needed to be ready to protect themselves. They knew that they'd create an opening during one of their attacks. Every attack puts them at risk.
When Tyr was ready for another punch, Attila saw it.
He waited; it's not the right time yet. Tyr was about to deliver the punch, but Attila caught it with his left hand, discarding the pain in his dislocated arm. He roared and prepared to strike with his arrow. The god had only one arm; he couldn't defend himself from this next attack! This is it! Many humans believed. This is the final blow!
Time seemed to slow down for the spectators as Attila delivered his attack, aiming for Tyr's open neck. He held Tyr's arm tight, refusing to let go. The Huns roared in excitement, chanting for Attila to finish the job.
"Brother!" Bleda exclaimed.
"Son!" Mundzuk joined in.
All the Huns roared in unison, "GO!"
The archangels held their breath; this could be it; the first round could be theirs to win. But does Tyr have another trick up his sleeve?
"Attila." Tyr muttered. This got the Scrouge of God's attention, is this a distraction? Or was this Tyr spilling his last words before he delivered the finishing move?
"Do you think that stopping my arm could render me unable to fight?"
He did have another trick.
Tyr performed a roundhouse kick to Attila's thigh, the blow shattering the man's femur. Attila stumbled backwards from the blow, and that was his ultimate mistake.
Tyr used this opportunity to free his arm from Attila's grasp, dashing behind him before anyone could notice. Attila had messed up; he didn't think about disabling the god's legs before grabbing his hand to finish him off. But he still has time. He spun around, hoping to stab the god before he can do anything. He can still catch the god off-guard, victory can still-
"Fist of the Upright Vow."
The god had punched through the quiver and into Attila's back, his fist exiting through the man's chest.
Everyone watched the scene in pin-drop silence. Attila dropped the arrow in his hand, the sound of it clanging onto the ground echoed across the stadium. Tyr pulled his fist out, his entire left arm stained in blood, and Attila collapsed to his knees.
Uriel dropped his encyclopaedia. Metatron rubbed his eyes, as if to make sure that what he was witnessing is in real life. Michael stumbled onto his seat, the truth hitting him harder than a train moving at full speed. They lost. It's over.
The quiver shivered and transformed back into Raguel's original body. He too, also had a hole through his chest, blood flowing out from it and staining his business suit. He tumbled onto the ground and saw a circle surround both him and Attila. He realized what is going to happen next.
Surrounding Attila and Raguel was a black hole, with a cold monstrous growl as tentacles emerging from the vortex. They consciously turned to the man and the archangel and swirled around the two. They grabbed onto their bodies, despite them being soft, the tentacles were as tough as the strongest of matter, being impossible to break through.
Raguel knew his time is up, he had failed to keep his promise to his three children. He faced his surroundings and found the VIP box of the archangels; he could spot his three children watching him being slowly dragged into the black hole with tears flowing down their faces. He wanted to break free, and rush to the VIP box and hug them, but alas, it's over.
He couldn't do anything but mutter out his last words.
"Elysariel... Kaelith... Ariel... My three beautiful birds. I love you."
He shut his eyes, and his entire body his dragged into the black hole by the tentacles. More emerged, taking interest in Attila next. They grabbed his arms and legs, slowly dragging him towards the vortex.
Attila sighed; he despised the fact that he lost again. He wanted to prove the glory of the Huns, but he failed yet again. However, the good thing is that at least he died a great battle than choking on his own blood. He was satisfied that he gets to die a grand and glorious death.
"Attila the Hun." Tyr spoke, grabbing the Scrouge of God's attention. The god casted a warm smile on his face. "You did well. You are the most powerful opponent that I have ever met. Thank you, for this spectacular fight."
Attila couldn't help but smile as a response to his words. He did give it his all, the black holes would've dragged Tyr into the black hole if he wasn't so overconfident. He is the greatest warrior of the Huns, the most feared soldier that the Romans ever faced, and a man who gained a god's respect.
And that was the best closure he could have in his entire life and afterlife.
"Heh. I'm glad that I've given you a good fight for your life." Attila spoke back. Before he too gently closed his eyes as his entire body is dragged into the black hole. All the tentacles resided back into the vortex where they emerged from, and the black hole dissipated into thin air, ending the first round of Genesis.
The entire audience was silent for at least a minute after witnessing what happened to Attila and Raguel, before Bragi ruined the moment by whopping and throwing flowers onto the arena. The gods followed soon after, cheering and roaring in triumph against humanity.
"It's over. IT'S OVER!" Anansi hammily exclaimed. "We have our winner, ladies and gentlemen! The winner of the first round of Genesis, is TYR!"
Round 1
Attila the Hun vs Tyr
Winner: Tyr
Match Length: 11 minutes and 42 seconds
Finishing Move: Fist of the Upright Vow
Gods 1 - 0 Humans