Marvel: AS A PRINCE IN ASGARD

Neither the goat-headed demon nor Ragna moved to applaud, but cautiously observed each other.

"Asgardian, I'll use your skull as a goblet!"

The goat-headed demon, a twisted spawn of Mephisto's realm, snarled, twirling his deathly scythe. A wave of dark, hellfire-infused energy slashed toward Ragna in a crescent arc, distorting the air with malevolent force.

"Demon, I hope there's enough left of you to scrape off the arena floor," Ragna, a warrior of Asgard and wielder of divine solar energy, retorted. He swung his enchanted greatsword, forged in Nidavellir and imbued with the Sunfire of Sol's Core. With a blinding slash, golden energy erupted in a counterattack, colliding with the demonic crescent in an explosion of light and shadow.

The impact roared across the arena, sending shockwaves through the Coliseum of Sakaar, a battleground that had seen the likes of the Hulk and Beta Ray Bill. But this was only the beginning.

The demon vanished in a blur, moving at unnatural speed, leaving behind dozens of afterimages, each wielding the deadly scythe. They slashed relentlessly, conjuring an onslaught of black crescents that darkened the sky, blotting out the artificial Sakaaran sun.

Ragna, the son of Asgard, stood unyielding in the storm. His blade danced in perfect counter, forming a radiant golden sphere around him, an impenetrable shield of divine light.

Gods and demons. Light and darkness.

Their battle raged, shaking the very foundation of the Grandmaster's arena. The unleashed force sent weaker spectators toppling over, and even cybernetic gladiators clutched the rails for balance.

The crowd gasped, then erupted into thunderous applause.

On a floating observation deck, a scavenger leader slammed his fist onto the console, his eyes wide with despair. "How the hell am I supposed to take them down with my energy cannon now?"

"The championship is out of reach," muttered a scarred warrior, an ex-champion now relegated to betting rings. "No one's taking that crown from them."

Meanwhile, Valina, a warrior from Xandar, clenched her fists. She had seen recordings of the goat-headed demon in previous matches—but never like this.

The Grandmaster, unfazed, smirked and sipped from a goblet. The chaos unfolding before him only made the game more thrilling.

The battle dragged on, divine radiance against infernal darkness, neither combatant showing signs of exhaustion. But Ragna knew this deadlock would last indefinitely if he didn't act decisively.

Summoning the burning essence of the sun, he took a stance.

"If I can't find the real you, then I'll just erase you all!"

Ragna roared, channeling solar power to its peak, his entire body erupting in celestial flames. A pulse of pure, concentrated sunlight expanded outward in a searing golden ring.

"Let all fade to oblivion—Sol Annihilation!"

The ring expanded at lightspeed, consuming every demonic afterimage instantly. The true goat-headed demon, unable to escape, was struck head-on. His obsidian skin cracked, his body wracked with burns, and he dropped to one knee, coughing up molten-black ichor that sizzled against the arena floor.

The demon glared at the protective sigils etched into the arena walls. "Tch… If not for this accursed barrier, your attack wouldn't have hurt me," he spat, his dark energy weakened.

The Sakaaran battle-dome limited battlefield movement, preventing escape while allowing controlled energy bleed-through—enough to excite the audience but not enough to destroy the coliseum. To leave, one had to match the power of the Grandmaster himself.

Ragna did not reply. He was no fool—this was no sparring match. He had no reason to let his enemy recover. Raising his sword, he charged his solar energy once more.

Sensing imminent danger, the goat-headed demon flared his wings, unleashing a counterburst of abyssal energy. He narrowly avoided Ragna's incinerating strike, skimming along the arena's edge as lava-like slashes melted the floor in his wake.

Ceaselessly, Ragna struck, golden trails carving through the battlefield, but the demon's agility and shadow teleportation made him a frustratingly elusive target.

"You think you can burn me?" The goat-headed demon sneered. "I've walked through the infernos of Hell itself! Your heat means nothing!"

In the demon's world, temperatures rivaled the hearts of dying stars, and its poisonous atmosphere corroded the weak. He had survived that torment. What was mere sunlight to him?

Ragna narrowed his eyes. He could feel his divine power waning. The solar burst had drained him more than he anticipated. The demon was right—this was a battle of attrition, and neither of them was easy to kill.

The demon smirked, sensing Ragna's hesitation. "When your power runs dry, we'll see who stands victorious."

But Ragna wasn't finished.

His golden eyes blazed with renewed determination. If this was a battle of endurance, he would turn the tide.

Summoning the last reserves of his energy, he did not strike outward but turned the power inward. His body became enveloped in divine flames, his armor gleaming like a burning supernova.

"You speak of Hell," Ragna growled, stepping forward. "But what about the wrath of a star?"

His fist, now radiating with the concentrated force of a dying sun, launched forward.

The blow connected.

The goat-headed demon's world exploded into gold.

Each strike that followed shattered the demon's regenerating flesh, breaking the unbreakable, sending shockwaves through the arena. Black blood splattered across the battlefield as Ragna pounded him relentlessly.

"You cannot kill me," the demon rasped, grinning despite his shattered ribs. "No god can."

Ragna's golden aura flickered. He knew the truth—the creature was right. But that didn't mean he had lost.

A new resolve filled him. There was only one way to end this.

He clenched his fist one last time.

And made his decision.