novelraw Chapter 152 148: Challenges ll Part Two
Chapter 152 148: Challenges ll Part Two
No pause.
No buildup.
Just impact.
Civen surged, her tail snapping through the fractured sea as she fused the dome itself into her attack—currents sharpening into narrative cuts, pressure lines bending mid-motion to intercept, redirect, and collapse around Destiny in a killing weave that had no clean angle to escape.
Destiny stepped into it anyway.
Laughing.
Enjoying it.
Her blades moved in tandem—gold and black crossing, separating, rejoining—each strike spawning arrays that bloomed and collapsed in the same instant. Circular sigils flashed around her wrists, then shattered into piercing constructions that shot outward like javelins, forcing Civen to break her rhythm just enough to avoid being pinned.
Civen adapted instantly.
She folded the dome inward again, compressing the sea into a crushing sphere around Destiny while slicing through the gaps in her own pressure, turning defense into offense in the same breath.
Destiny answered by spinning through it.
Her aura flared.
The pressure around her cracked as a massive array formed beneath her feet, snapping upward into a spiraling lattice of energy that bit back against the dome itself.
She lunged.
Civen met her.
Blades clashed—scale against construct, narrative against narrative—sending violent distortions through the water as both forces tried to overwrite the other.
Civen carved through three of Destiny's constructs in a single motion and drove a blade toward her throat—
Destiny twisted aside, took the hit across her shoulder instead, didn't even slow—
And smiled wider.
Then—
Her aura shifted.
A roar tore through the dome as a massive golden-black viper erupted from behind her and swallowed her, its body coiling into existence from layered arrays and condensed will.
Its eyes burned with the same fractured gold-black light as Destiny's, its body lined with flowing sigils that pulsed like a heartbeat.
It lunged.
Civen barely brought her arms up in time as the serpent crashed into her, its jaws snapping shut around her midsection and driving her backward through the sea with crushing force.
She sliced.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Her blades carved deep into the serpent's form—
But it didn't stop.
Didn't break.
Each cut destabilized its body—but the energy fed back into itself, reconstructing even as it devoured distance and momentum.
Civen's eyes narrowed as she was driven further back.
Using this much Ryun—
This aggressively—
Was exhausting.
Even for her.
And Destiny—
Wasn't slowing.
Not even a little.
Civen twisted free at the last second, tearing out of the serpent's jaws and kicking off its body to create space—
Only to feel it.
Something wrong.
The serpent coiled.
Paused.
Then around it—
Blades appeared.
Black.
With golden handles.
Dozens of them.
Floating.
Orbiting.
Each one humming with the same layered intent as Destiny's weapons.
Civen's eyes widened.
She shouldn't have enough energy for this…
"How—?"
The thought didn't even finish.
Because the blades moved.
Civen reacted immediately.
Her hands rose.
And the sea answered.
Water spears formed by the dozens around the golden-black viper, long and needle-thin, each one reinforced by compressed Ryun and sharpened enough to puncture layered constructs. At the same time, emerald constructs unfolded around them—angular, reef-like frames of pressure and force that locked into place like hunting traps.
Then she understood it.
Fully.
Destiny wasn't just hiding in the serpent.
She was using it as a domain inside the domain.
A moving locus of control wrapped in fangs, arrays, and intent.
Civen's eyes sharpened.
Fine.
Then she would drown that too.
She lifted both hands higher.
Blue-green orbs appeared around the viper—six, then twelve, then more—suspended in the water like cold stars. The current shifted instantly as each orb latched onto a different pressure axis inside the dome, rewriting the movement of the sea around them.
Then—
The barrage began.
The water spears fired first, slamming into the viper from all sides in rapid succession, punching holes through its coiling body as emerald constructs followed up like crushing jaws. The orbs pulsed, and the entire dome began to spin—not naturally, but with directed malice—turning the current into a rotating field of slicing force.
The serpent was hammered from every angle.
Shredded.
Torn apart by converging pressure, narrative cuts, and rotational grind.
The floating black blades with golden handles were caught in it too.
One after another, they splintered.
Cracked.
Exploded into sparks of black-gold light.
The viper screamed without sound as its body was ripped open and reduced in chunks, its coils collapsing under the assault as the domain-within-the-domain was systematically dismantled.
Civen smiled.
Not because she was winning.
But because this—
This part made sense.
Breaking things.
Reducing impossible forms to pieces.
Destroying the shape someone else had built.
That felt honest.
Because nothing had gone to plan.
Not any of it.
She had worked too hard for it.
Schemed too long.
Calculated too carefully.
She had built toward the perfect revenge.
She had a goddess with her own vengeance against Vari at her side.
She had favor.
Authority.
The power to make what she wanted real.
She could have won the tournament.
She had brought Keryna Vel Dross.
Brought others.
Pulled strings across factions and fighters alike.
Teamed with AAA-Ka-Nier to funnel native support where she needed it.
Manipulated the field.
Manipulated the people.
She had tricked Caelus.
Tricked Eirian.
Moved pieces across the board for years with the patience of someone who knew she only needed one good opening.
And even beyond all that—
She had been gifted narrative force by a Supreme Being.
Qui Tensigon herself had given her favor.
A fragment of authored inevitability.
Something so far above ordinary power it should have been enough to decide everything.
And yet—
All of it.
All the planning.
All the years.
All the hate she had preserved like a relic.
Wasted.
Boiled down to this.
A duel.
Just a duel.
No elegant revenge.
No beautiful collapse of everything Vari had built.
Just her—
And this woman.
If it was always going to end like this—
If all roads led here anyway—
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Then maybe…
Maybe she should have just fought her straight on from the very beginning.
In the end—
Civen knew exactly what this meant.
Killing Destiny was a death sentence.
There was no ambiguity there.
No strategic blindness.
Vari had destroyed galaxies for less.
To kill her Jujisn—to truly erase one—was a one-way ticket to a painful, personal, unforgettable death.
And yet—
It didn't matter.
Because she was dead after this tournament anyway.
That truth had settled into her a long time ago.
The moment she gambled everything on becoming AllFather Laos's ambassador.
The stars had aligned.
The position had been hers.
She had the merit.
The leverage.
The timing.
Everything.
Then Vari decided otherwise.
Had one of her own appointed instead.
And then—
Smiled at her.
That smile.
That effortless, untouchable dismissal.
Civen could never let it go.
Because after that—
Everything fell apart violently.
She lost her family.
Lost her resources.
Lost standing.
Lost whatever remained of her honor.
And in all the deals she had made to claw her way back up—
She had failed promises to things far too powerful to disappoint.
Beings that had already slaughtered her family and friends.
Beings that had hunted her afterward.
Things that only stopped because the Fortune Holder Tournament gave her temporary protection.
She hadn't just entered for ambition.
She entered because it was the only place left where she could still breathe.
And because Vari's Jujisn was here.
That strange, unenlightened form.
Something that wasn't Vari—
But was.
A contradiction she never fully understood.
But one truth remained.
One that mattered more than any confusion around identity, lineage, or metaphysical categorization.
Once a Jujisn died—
They didn't come back.
Not ever.
Not even a Supreme could restore them.
The realms themselves rejected it.
Declared the death a passing error and sealed it away.
That was what Civen wanted.
Not just revenge.
Not just pain.
She wanted Vari to feel powerless.
To have something taken that even she couldn't retrieve.
To be left with nothing.
The same way Civen had been.
And even then—
Even now—
A small, bitter truth still lived somewhere in her chest.
If she had known then what she knew now—
She still would have done it again.
Civen raised her hands.
The bladed edges along her arms rose and aligned until their tips touched, humming with condensed force. Ryun surged through her in sharp, painful channels as she pushed everything she had left into one final shaping.
At the same time, the narrative power gifted through Qui Tensigon condensed through the blades as well, running along their edges in thin, invisible authority.
She wondered—briefly—why she had never simply been given the power to end this outright.
Why all this favor.
All this setup.
All this weight—
But the answer was obvious.
Entertainment.
Or something close enough to it that the distinction didn't matter.
Either way—
It was time to end this.
Civen fired.
Her Ryun drove the narrative strikes forward in a converging burst, both energies stacked into one lethal release.
It pierced the serpent with a sickening pop.
The golden-black viper convulsed as the force punched through its body, destabilizing the remaining domain structure from within.
Destiny came through it anyway.
Laughing.
Civen surged forward to meet her.
And in that moment—
There was nothing left to say.
No final argument.
No philosophy.
No attempt at reason.
No appeal to understanding.
One fought to make her legacy carry weight.
The other fought to prove her legacy was viable.
That was enough.
The exchange—
Happened in two and a half minutes.
They went at each other.
No rhythm.
Just violence layered with intent.
Destiny moved with golden-black Ryun igniting around her like a laughing flame, each strike leaving behind burning trails that didn't fade but lingered, stacking pressure into the space itself. Her blades carved arcs that split currents and forced the domain to respond, each swing a statement that she belonged in this level of combat.
Civen answered with everything.
The dome spun faster.
Currents inverted, collapsed, surged again—her domain was weaponized entirely. Every inch of space became a hazard. Narrative cuts threaded through the water, invisible but absolute, striking from impossible angles while the spinning pressure field attempted to grind Destiny down piece by piece.
She didn't care about her Ryun reserves anymore.
Not even slightly.
If this was the end—
Then everything would be burned here.
Destiny felt it.
The escalation.
The desperation.
And she cared—
But not in the way someone trying to survive would.
She cared because of the feeling.
Because of the edge.
Because every second closer to death made her sharper.
Faster.
More alive.
She laughed again as she cut through a wave of pressure, her blade dragging a streak of gold-black fire that burned the current apart long enough for her to slip through.
Civen struck.
A precise thrust meant to cripple.
Destiny met it—
Then vanished.
The blade pierced her leg—
No.
Light.
An illusion.
Civen's eyes widened just slightly—
Too late.
Destiny appeared at her flank and drove a kick into her ribs, the impact detonating through the water and launching Civen back through her own domain.
Civen recovered mid-flight, twisting, stabilizing—
But the difference was there now.
Civen was powerful.
Dangerous.
A master of planning, of shaping outcomes, of controlling the field.
But in the end—
She was a schemer.
Destiny didn't need perfect conditions to thrive.
Civen steadied herself.
Then made a choice.
She pulled the domain inward.
All of it.
The spinning sea collapsed and coated her body, layers of blue-green pressure wrapping around her form like armor, like fuel, a final gambit. The narrative strikes that once traveled through the water now infused directly into her limbs, her core, her blades—every movement now carrying that same irreversible weight.
Her body trembled.
Not from fear.
From output.
Destiny saw it.
And smiled.
Wide.
Her blood drifted around her in small, floating beads, suspended in the fractured water like stars caught between currents. She raised both blades, gold and black flaring brighter—
Then surged forward.
A light that devoured its own brilliance.
Civen charged to meet her.
A narrative tide of death.
And Destiny moved better.
It wasn't raw speed.
This was grace incarnate.
A movement so refined it felt like time itself had been convinced to step aside for it.
Her body angled.
Her blades aligned.
And she cut.
A perfect diagonal seam tore through the domain.
The spinning sea split.
The pressure fractured.
The narrative flow broke along the line of her strike as if it had always been meant to separate there.
For a single, impossible moment—
The upper half of the domain hovered.
Then—
It collapsed into itself.
Thunder rippled outward.
Civen's eyes widened.
Then—
They dulled.
The force passed through her.
And the last thing she saw—
Was Destiny smiling.
———
North walked.
Behind him, the land collapsed under the weight of his blood—crimson saturating the ground, hollowing it out, eating away at what little structure remained. Each step he took felt like the world giving in just a little more.
The golden wave loomed closer now.
Too close.
But the tournament wasn't over.
Not yet.
Which meant—
People were still alive.
He exhaled slowly, his body screaming at him to stop. His clothes were torn beyond recognition, his form battered, pushed far past its natural limits. But none of that mattered.
Because something else did.
The blue orb above—
Split.
Cracked.
Then shattered.
North didn't rush.
He simply adjusted his path.
As fragments of Blue Ryun rained down like falling glass, he angled himself just enough—
And caught her.
Destiny fell into his arms.
The shattered remnants of the dome struck the ground around them in bursts of fading energy, while off in the distance—
A body hit.
Bisected.
Mermaid-cat hybrid.
North glanced once.
"…hmm."
A small tilt of his head.
Was that Civen?
Didn't matter.
It was dead.
His attention returned downward.
Destiny was smiling.
Panting.
Bruised.
Cut.
Her body marked by a fight that should've killed her twice over.
And still—
To him—
She looked good.
He smirked faintly.
Who doesn't like combat scars on a woman?
Destiny laughed weakly, her head tilting back slightly as she caught her breath. He noticed the cut on her cheek.
"I'm surprised you won." She cooed.
North huffed once.
"Ditto."
She puffed slightly at that, a bit of pride slipping through the exhaustion.
"I beat a Ranker."
A small pause.
"In one-on-one combat."
North looked at her for a second.
Then smiled.
"Yeah."
He nodded.
"Good shit."
He adjusted his hold on her slightly, steady despite everything breaking around them.
"Congratulations."
"Move your hand off my ass."
North didn't even look down.
"You're naked," he said flatly, still walking. "And it's one of the few places you aren't cut."
A small pause.
"Besides…"
He smirked slightly.
"I grabbed this ass so many times I got a handprint on it."
Destiny laughed despite herself, the sound tired but real.
"Shut up."
She shifted slightly in his hold, wincing just a bit before settling again.
"…where is everyone?"
North shrugged as he kept moving, eyes tracking faint traces ahead.
"Just following the aura."
He tilted his head forward slightly.
"They're over there somewhere. Also… how aren't you bleeding out?"
Destiny exhaled softly, then glanced down at herself.
"Pssh! It would take more than this to kill me. But aura healing to answer your question."
"You could've just said aura and I would have gotten it."
She rolled her eyes.
"…you got anything I can wear?"
North gave her a look.
She laughed again, shaking her head.
"Worth a shot."
Her expression softened just a little.
"…I hope everyone's okay."
North's voice stayed even.
"Jack ain't destroying things."
A glance toward where Civen had fallen.
"And she's dead."
Back ahead.
"They should be fine."
A beat.
"Probably just Calmbrand and a few others left."
He reached down with his free hand and tore a piece of cloth from what remained of his cape, draping it over her to at least cover her chest.
It wasn't much.
But it was something.
They kept walking.
Slowly.
Neither of them said much.
Not because there wasn't anything to say—
But because they didn't have the energy to say it.
Destiny looked up at him.
Really looked this time.
At the way he carried himself now.
The presence.
The weight.
The command that seemed to follow him without effort.
And she realized—
She mirrored it.
In her own way.
Not the same.
But close enough.
They had both changed.
Grown.
Burned.
Come too far to stop now.
Destiny let her head rest back slightly as they moved forward.
And in that quiet understanding—
There was only one outcome left.
They would finish this.
They had to.
There wasn't another option.
As North and Destiny approached the group, the atmosphere shifted immediately.
Jamal sat in front of everyone. Around him, bodies were scattered in various states of collapse. Ozzy was out cold. Both Tinsurnaes were still slumped together. The rest looked barely alive.
Only Tabia and Sšurtinaui were technically awake—
And even that felt generous.
They looked half-gone.
Jamal glanced up as the two of them came into view.
Then grinned.
"Yo…"
He pointed vaguely between them.
"Y'all motherfuckers did it, huh?"
North smiled.
Destiny smiled too.
"Yeah," they said at the same time.
Jamal barked out a tired laugh.
"Yo—is D naked?"
"Yes," North said immediately, laughing under his breath.
"Y'all really some animals."
Destiny's face turned red almost instantly.
"No! We didn't!"
She pointed at herself in offense despite still being barely held together.
"I lost my clothes fighting Civen!"
Jamal blinked once.
"Oh."
A pause.
"…that bitch dead?"
"Dead as hell," North replied.
Jamal nodded with approval.
"Good shit."
He shifted slightly, wincing from his own injuries.
"Well…"
A tired shrug.
"Quick recap, I guess."
And he gave it to them.
The fight with Jack.
The basketball court.
The trash talk.
How Jack's bitch ass ran away at the end instead of dying like he was supposed to.
North laughed once at that. He also noticed both Tinsurnaes were here. Something to bring up after the recap.
Destiny just listened.
Jamal also mentioned that he used Crisper last health stim so he didn't die from using his Magic and Ryun so much.
Then his tone lowered slightly.
He mentioned Caelus.
How he left.
How Jamal couldn't feel his aura anymore.
And how everyone here was basically dead tired and running on fumes.
Destiny looked over the unconscious group.
Then asked—
Quietly.
"Where's Crisper?"
The shift was immediate.
Jamal's expression fell.
The humor drained right out of him.
North noticed too.
Jamal looked down for a second before answering.
"…Jack got her."
The words landed hard.
"She died from one of his attacks."
Destiny froze.
Her face didn't collapse right away.
It just—
Went still.
Completely still.
Like every emotion inside her had been pulled taut at once.
Her eyes stayed forward.
Unblinking.
Stoic.
For one long second—
Then another.
Then something in her mouth trembled.
Just slightly.
Her jaw tightened.
Her breathing changed.
And slowly—
Pain started showing.
First in her eyes.
Then around them.
Then in the way her expression couldn't hold itself together anymore.
The composure cracked.
Softly.
Then all at once.
Her lips parted like she was going to say something.
Nothing came out.
Only a sound—
Then tears welled.
She tried to stop them.
Tried hard.
Her face twisted as she forced herself to hold it in, to stay upright, to stay composed in front of everyone because there were still people watching and this was still a battlefield and she was still supposed to be something.
But she couldn't.
Not this one.
Not Crisper.
Not after everything.
The tears spilled.
And once they started—
They didn't stop.
Destiny broke into crying so suddenly it made the silence around them feel cruel.
North pulled her closer without saying a word.
Jamal followed right after, hugging her from the other side.
And just like that—
She was held.
Between the two of them.
Still crying.
Still trying not to.
Still failing.
No one tried to lighten it.
No one interrupted the grief.
They just let her cry.
An aura cut in behind them.
Hot.
North recognized it immediately.
Cawren.
His red-sigil eyes narrowed as he turned—and there he was, walking out of the wreckage. Flames and searing, living script wreathed his battered frame, infernal runes shimmering across every inch of exposed skin like his body itself was an arcane furnace, while his red eyes burned through the smoke.
But he was badly injured, his armor split and blackened, his cape hanging in scorched, torn strips, blood slipping in thin lines between the glowing sigils. Even so, he kept walking with someone slung over his shoulder
A woman.
Burned.
Naked.
Half-destroyed from the look of it.
North blinked once.
"Huh."
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.
"He got his own woman."
He shifted, then handed Destiny off to Jamal without resistance. Jamal caught her carefully, adjusting her weight against him while his eyes stayed locked on the approaching figure.
Cawren smiled as he stepped fully into view.
"So…"
His gaze moved over all of them.
"Everyone's in one place for me."
Jamal immediately lifted his Glock switch.
"Blood, you come over here, we gon' fuck you up."
He shifted Destiny's weight slightly, keeping her balanced as she stared too—but she had nothing left in her. No energy. No strength. Just enough to witness.
Before Jamal could shoot—
North raised a hand.
"I got this."
Jamal frowned immediately.
"Blood, you on ya last leg. Shit I'm on my last leg."
North didn't even look back.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"So is he."
Then, calmer—
"Don't tell me his bravado fooled you."
That got a laugh out of Jamal.
A tired one.
"Ard, Blood."
Destiny looked between them, still exhausted and tear-streaked.
Jamal sighed and adjusted her in his arms.
"You a woman, so you might not get it…"
He nodded toward North.
"But a brotha gonna do what a brotha gotta do."
A small shrug.
"On the principle."
Then he looked at North's back.
"And that brotha made his mind up a long time ago."
He lowered the switch.
Then called out—
"Put him on a shirt, Blood."
North smiled.
And started walking.
Across from him, Cawren lowered Ria gently from his back and set her down.
She looked horrible.
Barely conscious.
Her body was still failing in pieces, and the only reason she was even awake at all was because she wasn't fully mortal anymore. Malefic essence flowed through Cawren's hands as he healed what he could, feeding just enough power into her to keep her from slipping under entirely.
She reached weakly and tugged at him.
Cawren glanced down.
Ria shook her head.
Then mouthed—
You're not good at chance.
Cawren smiled.
And somehow, that only encouraged him.
"That's even more reason."
Back behind North, Destiny suddenly shouted as loud as she could manage.
"This is stupid!"
Her voice cracked from exhaustion.
"You're tired! The odds aren't in your favor!"
North kept walking.
Still smiling.
"That's even more reason."
He pointed without looking—toward the golden wave surging closer in the distance.
"I'll be fine."
Then he glanced slightly over his shoulder.
"I trusted you with Civen, right?"
He was about to say more—
But a rough voice cut across the ruined field.
"Kill him!"
Sšurtinaui.
She had pushed herself upright just enough to yell, even if it sounded like it hurt to exist.
North grinned.
"Way ahead of you."
And kept walking toward Cawren.
[12 minutes until the gold wave devours the land]