Because the true body had taken a heavy hit, Loki's illusionary clones instantly burst like bubbles, turning into specks of starlight that scattered and vanished in the air.
He staggered back several steps, clutching his swollen left eye. It was already puffed up high, bruised dark and ugly.
Flames of rage burned in Loki's gaze. He glared at Harry, steadied himself, and charged again. "That was my mistake. I didn't dodge. The real first round starts now!"
Before the words even finished, he stomped down hard. A shallow footprint dented the ground, and his body tore through the air as he shot toward Harry.
He said it confidently, but Harry already knew exactly how underhanded the God of Mischief could be. Magic surged in his body at once, spreading outward like living tendrils, sharply sensing every abnormal fluctuation around him.
Sure enough, several invisible beams of magic crept up fast from behind.
They weren't lethal, but getting hit would still injure you—and worse, you'd be stuck for a long time afterward with nasty debuffs like confusion, dizziness, freezing, and more.
A trace of mockery flickered across Harry's face. "Loki, you're still the same shameless coward—hiding in the dark and pulling dirty little tricks!"
He drew his wand and layered a Shield Charm over himself. Once that was done, he flicked his wrist and the wand vanished again, stashed away into his pocket dimension.
Then Harry stomped down as well, charging straight at Loki with roaring thunder wrapped around him. Wherever he passed, the air warped and twisted from ionization.
The hidden magic beams behind him arrived first. The Shield Charm intercepted them all.
But while it blocked everything, the barrier itself became brittle. When Harry and Loki collided for the first close exchange, it shattered like glass struck by a hammer—cracking once and dissolving into fragments in the air.
Electrical reinforcement, magic reinforcement, electromagnetic force coverage—every body-enhancement spell he had piled onto himself all at once.
Those spells put immense strain on his body, but at the same time they launched his physical ability into a completely different tier.
Their figures tangled together. Loki's daggers carried cutting wind as they stabbed in like two streaks of cold light.
But Harry was ready. At the instant the blades were about to pierce him, he shot out an arm—using sheer strength and sharp reflexes to catch and block Loki's daggers precisely.
Then Harry didn't hesitate for even a breath. He raised his palm, whistling through the air, and slapped Loki hard across the face.
Smack!
The crisp sound rang out absurdly clear in the arena. Loki's thin cheek rippled like a wave. His pale face turned red and swollen at a visible speed, like it had been painted over with tomato juice.
At the same time, a streak of bright blood slid out from his nose, ran past the corner of his mouth, and dripped onto the cold floor.
The slap carried so much force that Loki's body swayed like a kite with a snapped string. His mind went blank.
He got completely stunned by that sudden slap.
But Loki recovered quickly, forcing himself back into focus. He raised his other hand and stabbed at Harry again.
The result was exactly the same as before—his strike was stopped with ease, and another slap landed on his face.
Smack!
The sharp sound echoed again, even louder this time.
Loki's cheek instantly ballooned. Now both sides of his face were swollen equally, red as fire, like two fully ripe apples.
That proud, cold, superior look was gone. In its place was pure humiliation—awkward, ridiculous, miserable.
Seeing Loki like this, Harry couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing. He even teased, "You look way cuter like this than you do normally!"
Compared to Harry's delight, Loki was having the worst time of his life. He roared, "Harry Potter!"
Humiliation and fury in his heart hit the peak. In his dreams, he wanted to turn the tables in the next exchange, then crush Harry with a brutal counter-humiliation.
But in close combat, he was no longer Harry's match. He'd completely fallen into the disadvantage.
Harry's attacks came like a storm. Punch after punch landed, kick after kick slammed into him, beating him so badly he couldn't fight back at all.
Soon, Loki's head was split open, blood pouring down his forehead and cheeks in thick streams.
Finally, after narrowly avoiding a heavy punch, Loki seized a fleeting gap and blinked away, widening the distance between them in an instant.
Watching Loki retreat in disgrace, Harry's mouth curled into a satisfied grin. He didn't chase. He stayed where he was, chest heaving as he gulped down air.
"Hah…"
Harry let out a long breath. His smile only grew brighter. That beating had felt amazing—especially because the target was Loki, that obnoxious pest. The satisfaction skyrocketed exponentially.
So yeah—this is what a real fight between men should be: fists, flesh, and teeth!
Loki stood in the distance, his face so dark it looked like it could drip water.
He lifted a hand and flicked it lightly. A layer of illusion draped over him.
Under the illusion, his messy clothes smoothed themselves out. His swollen cheeks returned to their usual pale tone. Even the blood at the corner of his mouth vanished quietly.
In the blink of an eye, he looked like himself again—elegant, refined, composed.
"Hmph!" Loki snorted hard, chin lifted. He tried to look calm, but panic still leaked through his eyes. "That doesn't count. I wasn't ready. Second round. A fight between sorcerers should be decided with magic—close combat is something only crude warriors do!"
The instant Loki said it, boos rose from the stands in waves.
Real men should fight with fists to the flesh and teeth to the bone!
Seeing Loki still struggling stubbornly, Harry shook his head, amused. "No, Loki. The duel is already over. You don't seriously think I hit you that many times… without leaving something behind, do you?"
Loki's face turned paper-white. He tried to draw up his magic and check his body, but it was already too late.
Harry calmly raised his hand. His long fingers curled slightly, and then he snapped.
Snap!
The crisp sound stood out harshly in the sudden silence.
In the next instant, a piercing, unbearable screech erupted from Loki's body, like a thousand birds shrieking in his ears at once.
The residual current Harry's punches had left behind on Loki's body was triggered by that snap.
The electricity turned into countless silver snakes, raging and writhing over Loki from head to toe, shocking him into violent, uncontrollable spasms.
And in that split second—
Harry vanished from where he stood, like a ghost.
The next moment, he appeared right in front of Loki. In his hand was the Sacred Sword of the Vishanti, and at some point it had already been laid across Loki's throat!
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