Griselda slowly rose to her feet.
The calm that had preceded the battle was over.
She gripped her sword in one hand, then raised her eyes toward Fafnir.
He stood before her with an eerie calm, as though the battle about to begin meant absolutely nothing to him.
“Come, Fafnir. Let us fight.”
A smile appeared on Fafnir’s face.
“Let us make this battle more interesting.”
Griselda raised an eyebrow.
“More interesting?”
She did not understand what he meant.
So she asked curiously,
“And how do we do that?”
As though Fafnir had been waiting specifically for that question, his smile widened slightly.
It was a cunning smile that immediately made Griselda feel that he was plotting something.
“What do you say to a wager?”
A brief silence fell.
Griselda looked at him suspiciously.
“A wager?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him for several seconds.
There was something in his tone that told her his proposal would be anything but ordinary.
And yet, her curiosity overcame her caution.
“What are we wagering?”
Fafnir’s smile grew even more devious.
Then he spoke in a deliberately provocative tone.
“If I lose, you may do whatever you wish to me.”
Griselda froze for a moment.
Then Fafnir continued,
“But if you lose…”
He paused, deliberately allowing the tension to build.
“…I will have the right to impose upon you whatever I desire.”
Griselda stared at him in astonishment.
Then she narrowed her eyes.
“You truly haven’t changed.”
Fafnir laughed.
“Why?”
“Because you are still as lustful and provocative as you were in the past.”
Fafnir’s expression did not change.
If anything, he seemed amused by her response.
He asked immediately,
“Do you agree or not?”
Griselda stared at him for a long moment.
The wager was certainly troubling, and the way he had presented it made her realize that he was deliberately trying to provoke her.
But then another thought occurred to her.
If she lost…
she would have to face the consequences of the wager.
But if he lost?
A small smile appeared on her face.
The thought of having the chance to do whatever she wished to him if he lost was enough to make her excitement for the battle double.
She raised her eyes toward him.
Then she said,
“I agree.”
A glint appeared in Fafnir’s eyes.
Griselda continued,
“If I lose, I will be at your mercy.”
Then she smiled.
“But if you lose…”
Her smile gradually widened.
“…I will be the one who decides what happens to you.”
A brief silence followed.
Then Fafnir laughed.
“Agreed.”
Griselda tightened her grip around her sword.
Her expression changed.
She was no longer the woman who had been sitting and drinking wine only moments ago.
The Iron Maiden had returned.
The warrior who had faced the strongest beings of the Primordial War era.
As for Fafnir…
he extended one hand.
In the next instant, his great black sword appeared in his grasp.
The sword was enormous, dark as a starless night, and a heavy aura emanated from it, making the air around him seem darker.
The two exchanged a long look.
Five thousand years.
Five thousand years since the last time either of them had stood before the other like this.
Griselda spoke.
“Are you ready?”
Fafnir smiled.
“I have been ready since the moment I stepped onto this island.”
Griselda tightened her grip on her sword.
“Then…”
She lowered her body slightly.
“…let us begin.”
In the next instant—
both of them vanished.
BOOOOM!
Griselda’s sword collided with Fafnir’s great blade in the middle of the sky.
A tremendous shockwave erupted, shaking the barren mountain beneath them.
Rocks blasted away from the summit, the ground cracked beneath their feet, and rings of energy spread across the sky.
The island was completely deserted.
No cities.
No villages.
No farms.
No living, conscious beings.
There was nothing but the dense forests covering its outer reaches, the barren mountain at its center, and the Great Ocean stretching endlessly around it.
And because of that, neither Fafnir nor Griselda had to fear harming anyone.
This island was the perfect place for their battle.
A place where neither of them had to restrain their strength for fear of innocent lives.
Then the blows began to rain down.
One strike.
Then another.
Then dozens of strikes in the blink of an eye.
Griselda moved with astonishing speed, her sword flashing with every attack.
Fafnir, meanwhile, parried her blows with his black sword, every movement carrying tremendous force.
The two swords collided once more.
BOOOOM!
A shockwave spread across the sky.
The mountain rocks shattered, clouds of dust rose into the air, and the trees at the edges of the island bent beneath the pressure of their energy.
Then the two vanished from the mountain summit.
In the next instant, they appeared above the forest.
Griselda lunged toward Fafnir with her sword.
Fafnir blocked the strike.
The two retreated in opposite directions.
Then they rushed toward one another once more.
Their speed was beyond the perception of any ordinary being.
Every collision between their swords was like a small explosion, shaking the entire island.
The battle moved from the sky to the mountain summit.
From the mountain summit to the forest.
Then from the forest to the skies above the Great Ocean.
The sea beneath them erupted with every surge of energy, enormous waves forming and stretching for dozens of kilometers before collapsing once more.
Yet neither of them stopped.
Griselda attacked without pause.
A horizontal slash.
A direct thrust.
A vertical strike.
Then a swift rotation followed by an attack from the side.
Her fighting style was fast and precise, relying on speed, deception, and constant changes in the direction of her attacks.
As for Fafnir…
he blocked everything.
He wasted not a single movement.
He watched her with his pitch-black eyes, reading the movements of her body, the direction of her sword, and even the slightest shift in her center of gravity.
Griselda said as she parried one of his strikes,
“You still use the same strength!”
Fafnir replied,
“And you still talk too much during battle!”
Griselda surged forward.
“That’s because you couldn’t silence me for five thousand years!”
Fafnir swung his sword.
The two blades collided once again.
BOOOOM!
Griselda was thrown several meters backward through the air, but she immediately regained her balance.
She smiled.
“Looks like you’re still strong.”
Fafnir looked at her.
“So are you.”
Then he raised his sword.
“But do not confuse strength…”
His eyes glowed.
“…with victory.”
Griselda’s smile grew sharper.
“I won’t.”
Then she charged toward him once more.
Their swords collided.
A tremendous wave of energy exploded outward.
And at that very moment, the barren mountain that had witnessed their ancient battle five thousand years ago began to crack once again.
The earth itself seemed to remember.
As though it knew that the two legends who had once waged war upon it had finally returned to the same place.
But this time…
there were no armies.
No empires.
No races standing behind them.
Only Fafnir and Griselda.
Two ancient enemies.
Two swords.
And a wager neither of them was willing to lose.
The battle continued above the deserted island as their auras gradually rose.
It was clear that what had happened so far…
was only the beginning.
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