The golden-red battle armor shimmered with flowing brilliance, while the snow-white divine steed beneath him stood proudly. His slightly graying beard lent a rare air of serenity to a god-king who had slaughtered countless foes, yet his piercing gaze exuded an unmatched aura of dominance and death.
Odin—the King of Asgard, the supreme leader of the Aesir, and the very instigator of this Nine Realms War.
"Odin, you shouldn't be here."
The ancient chant came to an abrupt halt as Laufey finally shifted his gaze away from Lothar and landed on Odin.
"For the sake of your daughter, are you willing to forsake Asgard?"
The leader of the Dark Elves, Malekith, had already stepped onto the Bifröst, guided by Asgard's own traitors. Yet, rather than returning to Asgard immediately, Odin had chosen to appear here in Jotunheim.
There could be only one reason—Hela, his only daughter.
"Asgard will not fall, and Malekith will not succeed. The glory of Asgard shall shine upon the Nine Realms—it is an inevitability. And my daughter is the sole key to accelerating that fate."
His voice was grand and powerful, unwavering even after a long journey and countless battles. The golden-red boots stepped onto the frost-covered ground as Odin reached out to gently caress his daughter's cheek. With a wave of his right hand, Gungnir—the Eternal Spear buried in the icy ground—soared back into his grasp.
To spread Asgard's radiance across every corner of the Nine Realms, Odin had nurtured many exceptional warriors. Among them, Hela was his greatest masterpiece.
Unless there was no other choice, he would never abandon her.
A surge of warmth filled Hela's heart at the recognition in Odin's eyes. From childhood, she had relentlessly shaped herself into the daughter Odin desired.
Because she longed for his approval.
In this war-driven kingdom, it was the only way she could feel her father's love. To earn Odin's praise, Hela had demonstrated her talent for warfare from a young age.
While the children of Asgardian civilians reveled in family joys, playing hide-and-seek across Asgard's golden streets, Hela had once envied them. But in the end, she had cast aside those fleeting emotions and immersed herself wholly in the blood and fire of battle.
Thus was born Hela, Goddess of Death.
"You've done well, my child."
Odin's large hand rested on her shoulder, and divine power surged into her body. In an instant, her wounds healed completely—and at the same time, the microscopic tracker that Lothar had injected into her was forced out.
Hela's pupils shrank as she spotted the tracker at her feet. Fury flared in her eyes as she turned sharply toward Lothar—only to freeze in surprise.
This man... is completely naked?
"Perhaps your physique is indeed impressive," Odin mused, his voice carrying a faint smirk. "But I think you'd best put on some clothes—after all, my daughter is watching. Don't you agree, Lothar?"
Lothar remained silent. From the warship above, Woz tossed down a pitch-black combat suit, which quickly enveloped his muscular frame.
His original clothing had been torn to shreds when he transformed into a Great Ape.
Now fully dressed, Lothar's gaze swept over Laufey's unreadable expression, past Hela's amused smirk, and finally settled on Odin.
"Thanos' son. The rising fifth warlord of the Black Quadrant's Four Heavenly Kings. Since the moment Thanos sent you on solo missions, you've never once suffered defeat..."
One by one, Odin listed Lothar's feats.
Lothar had never imagined that, aside from his adoptive father Thanos, someone else in this universe would know him so well.
"Don't look at me like that. You're Thanos' son. This isn't some secret—every major ruler in the cosmos knows your name."
With the weight of Thanos' name behind him, Lothar couldn't help but be famous.
Lothar neither confirmed nor denied it, his gaze shifting to Laufey. His meaning was clear.
"Enough, Odin. Now, take your daughter and leave."
With Odin here, Laufey knew he had no chance of dealing with Hela. He cut short the conversation between Lothar and Odin, his focus shifting entirely.
He needed to deal with Lothar personally.
Never in his life had Laufey been tossed around like a mere plaything. He was the King of the Frost Giants—did his pride mean nothing?!
With Odin here to protect Hela, Laufey had no choice but to let her go. But Lothar? Lothar was alone.
So what if he had offended Thanos? More debts didn't make a difference. If Thanos wanted revenge, let him bring his fleet to Jotunheim.
If he could conquer it, Laufey would admit defeat.
For years, Jotunheim had withstood Odin's relentless assaults. Did Thanos think he was any different?
Besides, Laufey didn't believe that a ruler as cunning as Thanos would wage all-out war over a single fallen soldier. At most, he'd cause trouble for a while.
At first, Laufey had wished to avoid unnecessary conflict. But now, burning with rage, he no longer cared.
Lothar would learn what it meant to face the wrath of a king.
As Laufey finished speaking, the ground beneath Lothar's feet erupted with waves of energy.
Lothar raised his chin, cold arrogance etched into his sharp features. He had thrown Laufey once—he could throw him again.
Hela scoffed under her breath as she watched Lothar's unyielding defiance.
Laufey had managed to oppose Odin for so long not because of brute strength, but because of his mastery of ancient sorcery.
In Hela's eyes, Lothar's transformation into a Great Ape had been his trump card—but against Laufey's secret arts, it might not be enough.
"Leaving Hela Odinsdottir alone because of Odin's presence... So, is the King of the Frost Giants nothing more than a coward who bullies the weak?"
A cold, indifferent voice suddenly rang through the battlefield right after Lothar's energy erupted.
High up in the skies, a massive blade tore through the darkened skies of Jotunheim, embedding itself at Lothar's feet.
From the shattered heavens, radiant light cascaded down in a mesmerizing display.
A lone figure descended, stepping through the swirling frost.
Golden armor gleamed beneath the dim sky. His eyes were calm yet unyielding. Beneath his battle-worn armor, his exposed purple skin framed a body of sheer power.
The last surviving Eternal of Titan.
The Conqueror of Worlds.
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