The night sky was tranquil, the stars hidden behind a thick veil. A bright moon hung high, casting its glow over the Malfoy Manor grounds. Yet, the atmosphere carried an ominous edge. Outside the dueling circle, the gathered youths wore varied expressions. Those who had come with Sol carried an inexplicable confidence in him, though it was clear they hadn't anticipated him falling into such dire straits so quickly. The match seemed almost decided within moments.
Within the dueling circle, Sol's handsome face bore a bitter smile. A lapse in vigilance had allowed his opponent to seize an opportunity, plunging him into a precarious position. The feeling of helplessness gnawed at him—a sensation he thoroughly despised. Straining against the frost binding him, his fingers traced an intricate pattern through the air. A surge of electricity erupted, forming a magnetic field of brilliant blue light that enveloped his body.
To Loki's astonishment, Sol seemed to vanish from the spot, reappearing on the far side of the dueling arena, crackling with residual electric sparks. The maneuver clearly taxed Sol, as his shallow, labored breaths betrayed the effort.
"Tsk, tsk. Lucky move," Loki remarked, his lips curling in disdain. "I didn't expect you to pull off something like that. Still, I'd wager it wasn't easy for you. That must have been one of your trump cards, right? It's disappointing. We're only in the warm-up phase, and you're already revealing your hand. Hopefully, you can do something to pique my interest."
"Enough chatter," Sol retorted, his breath ragged but his tone resolute. "Whatever tricks you have, bring them on. I'll take them all. A man doesn't waste time yammering. Until the final moment, no one can claim victory. Your words are premature." His azure eyes burned with unyielding resolve, his defiant smile refusing to fade.
Loki sneered. "Pitiful insect. Do you think mere determination will alter your fate? How naive. In this world, the strong remain strong, and the weak—no matter how they struggle—are nothing more than insignificant bugs. Failure is your destiny. From the moment this began, you never had a chance to escape it."
"Ridiculous!" Sol shot back. "Fate? Our paths are ours to shape from the start. Without struggle or effort, what right do you have to speak of destiny? If you believe fate is unchangeable, then allow me to shatter that delusion. I'll show you that true destiny is forged by our strength!" His eyes sparked with electricity, bolts dancing around his frame.
With a sharp gesture, Sol pointed skyward. A streak of lightning coalesced into the form of a majestic blue falcon, crackling with electric energy as it soared toward Loki.
Loki's expression didn't waver. Calmly, he raised his wand, summoning crystalline ice. It coalesced into a translucent bow, and in an instant, dozens of frost-tipped arrows formed in the air. With a fluid motion, he loosed the arrows, their icy forms streaking through the night sky toward the electric falcon.
The falcon darted and twisted, evading most of the projectiles. However, a few icy arrows struck its wings, frost rapidly spreading across its form. Within moments, the falcon faltered, spiraling downward before crashing to the ground—a glistening ice sculpture.
"Is that all?" Loki scoffed. "If that's your so-called proof of defiance, you're sorely mistaken. Destiny is immutable, just as this falcon couldn't escape its fall. No matter how you struggle, you remain bound by its chains."
He twirled his wand idly, as though the battle's outcome was already decided. With a precise incantation, a portal of frost appeared. From within, dozens of ice spirits emerged. The summer warmth of Malfoy Manor's grounds plummeted, frost coating the grass and trees.
Though summoning these spirits consumed considerable magical energy, Loki was confident their sheer numbers would be enough to overwhelm Sol, who was clearly nearing his limits.
Facing the advancing spirits, Sol let out a bitter laugh. He raised his hand, summoning a blue lightning blade. As the frost spirits charged, massive icy fists rained down upon him. He parried one strike with his sword, sparks and frost colliding violently. But he was soon overwhelmed, the combined strength of the spirits sending him flying across the lawn.
"See now?" Loki said coldly, signaling his summoned spirits to halt. "The power of frost isn't something you can endure. Helpless, aren't you? That's the force of destiny—a power you cannot resist. There's only one path left for you: surrender. If you persist, I'll show no mercy in the next round."
Sol wiped the frozen blood from his lips, his expression defiant. "I've told you before—enough with the prattle. If you want to fight, fight! All this talking just makes you look pitiful." He staggered to his feet, gripping the blue lightning blade tightly. Alone, facing the towering frost spirits, he smiled undaunted.
"You're courting death!" Loki's amber eyes burned with icy rage. With a gesture, the frost spirits surged forward to engulf Sol.
His robes now coated with frost, Sol tightened his grip on the icy blade, a wry smile playing on his lips. Looks like I'm done for today. To hell with destiny. Better to fight and fall than cower in submission. At least I'll go down standing like a man.
Just as the frost spirits closed in, a silver wand appeared, and a swirling black vortex materialized in the air. The frost spirits were caught in its pull, dissolving into shards as they were dragged into the void. Within moments, the dueling grounds fell silent.
A fine drizzle began to fall, the droplets glinting in the cold light of the moon. The eerie stillness was broken only by the soft patter of rain, as Augustus stood amidst the silence, his silver-gray eyes glinting with an enigmatic light.
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