The cabin gave way with a deafening crack. The wooden beams splintered, the roof sagged, and in the next breath, the entire structure collapsed into itself like a dying animal. Dust and shards of wood burst outward in a storm, swallowing the two men in choking debris.
Adrian stepped through the wreckage first, brushing planks and dust from his shoulders. His white shirt was already half red, sliced open across his chest, but the lazy smirk had turned into something else—sharper, darker.
Ragnar emerged opposite him, shoulders heaving, his broken katana gripped in reverse like a shiv. His stance wasn't elegant—it was jagged, street-born, the stance of someone who fought not for form but survival. The blade looked ugly, sharp and uneven where it had snapped, but in his hands, it was lethal.
Adrian tilted his head. "Not bad for a man living in the woods."
Ragnar spat blood onto the gravel. "Not bad for a spoiled ranker playing enforcer."
Adrian's smirk widened. "You think Valhalla made me soft?"
"Valhalla made all of you soft," Ragnar shot back. He tightened his grip on the jagged katana, the knuckles of his free hand flexing. "But me? I bled every damn day against monsters like you. Don't mistake living in this mountain for rust—I'm sharper than I've ever been."
Then he moved.
Ragnar lunged low, gravel spraying as his legs powered forward. The jagged blade carved a vicious line at Adrian's thigh. Adrian swayed back, but not fast enough—steel dug into flesh, tearing a chunk from his leg.
Adrian didn't flinch. His fist drove down, heavy like a sledgehammer, and Ragnar barely twisted aside. The punch cratered the dirt, shock rattling up Ragnar's spine. Adrian came again, relentless, his other fist swinging wide in a brutal hook. Ragnar ducked and jammed his jagged blade upward, slicing across Adrian's ribs. Blood welled fresh.
"Ha!" Ragnar barked, voice raw with exertion.
But Adrian didn't stumble. He grabbed Ragnar's forearm mid-swing, twisted, and drove a knee into his gut. Air whooshed out of Ragnar's lungs in a choking grunt. Adrian slammed his forehead forward—bone met bone, and Ragnar's vision exploded with white.
Still, Ragnar didn't fold. He snarled through the blood, twisting his wrist free, and hammered his fist into Adrian's jaw. Adrian's head snapped sideways, spit and crimson spraying the dirt. For a split second, he looked dazed.
Then he laughed. A deep, low laugh that rattled with something unhinged.
"Finally," Adrian growled, straightening, nose bleeding freely. "Finally, someone who doesn't break in one round."
Ragnar wiped blood from his lip with the back of his hand, panting. "Then shut up and fight."
They clashed again.
Adrian's fists blurred—straight, hook, elbow, hammer. Ragnar weaved between them, jagged blade flashing, carving small but steady wounds across Adrian's torso and arms. Every dodge was desperate, every counter fueled by survival, but Ragnar made them count. Adrian's chest looked like a butcher's board now, red lines crossing every direction.
But Ragnar wasn't unscathed. Adrian's strikes landed heavy, even when glanced. His ribs screamed from the earlier knee, his left shoulder throbbed from the twisting grab, and blood trickled from a split eyebrow where the headbutt landed. Each breath felt shorter than the last.
"Come on!" Adrian roared, his fist slamming into Ragnar's forearm, numbing it. "Hit me like you mean it!"
Ragnar snarled and obliged. He dropped low, his jagged katana slicing across Adrian's stomach in a wide, messy arc. The blade tore deep. Adrian's body jerked from the force, blood soaking his shirt, but instead of recoiling, he lunged forward.
Ragnar barely had time to react before Adrian's elbow cracked against his jaw. Bone rattled, stars burst in his vision, and then a fist drove into his chest like a wrecking ball. His body skidded back across the gravel, coughing blood, his katana nearly slipping from his grip.
He planted it into the dirt, dragging himself back up with trembling arms. His legs shook, his chest heaved. But his eyes? They burned hotter than ever.
Adrian, bleeding and grinning like a madman, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You're still standing?"
Ragnar spat crimson into the dirt. "You'll have to do better than that to put me down."
They met in the middle again.
The fight devolved into chaos—no rhythm, no elegance, just raw violence. Adrian's fists pounded like hammers, smashing against flesh and bone, while Ragnar slashed and stabbed with the desperation of a cornered wolf. Every exchange spilled blood onto the gravel, painting the mountain yard in crimson.
Ragnar ducked under a hook, slammed the jagged blade into Adrian's side, then rammed his forehead into Adrian's chin. Adrian reeled back only for a second before hammering his fist into Ragnar's ribs, cracking at least one, maybe two. Ragnar gasped but didn't fall. He drove his knee upward, catching Adrian in the gut, then dragged the broken steel across his chest in a savage rip.
Adrian roared and tackled him, both bodies crashing into the dirt. They rolled, fists and steel clashing, choking each other in clouds of dust. Adrian's knuckles split as they hammered against Ragnar's skull. Ragnar's jagged blade carved another line across Adrian's shoulder before finally being knocked loose.
Now it was bare hands against fists.
Adrian pinned Ragnar's wrist, his other hand raining blows. Ragnar's head snapped left, right, blood spraying with every impact. His vision blurred, his hearing ringing. But just as Adrian drew back for the knockout strike, Ragnar twisted violently, bucking his hips and slamming his knee upward into Adrian's ribs. Something cracked. Adrian grunted, loosening just enough for Ragnar to roll free.
Both men staggered up, drenched in blood, swaying on their feet.
The mountain air was still, save for their ragged breaths. The gravel crunched under their unsteady steps as they circled, predators reduced to wrecks but unwilling to fall.
Ragnar's voice was a hoarse whisper. "Still think I'm soft?"
Adrian grinned through swollen lips and bloody teeth. "Still think you can win?"
And then, with nothing left to lose, they lunged one final time—two bloodied titans colliding in the ruin of the cabin, fists and fury shaking the mountain.