Chapter 19
Dwarves.
Despite their name, they weren't the small, stocky figures most would imagine.
The average dwarf stood over four meters tall, their frames broad and powerful, their limbs built from generations of hammering metal in the heart of a dying star.
The Dwarf King towered over even his people, standing a massive five meters tall, his deep-set eyes burning with defiance.
Lin Fan stood across from him, observing.
The Dwarves showed no fear.
Not because they were foolish.
But because they truly believed they were untouchable.
---
The Dwarf King raised his massive hammer and slammed it down onto a nearby magma forge, sending a shockwave through the air.
Molten metal erupted into the sky, heat waves distorting the air as the sound of clanging steel echoed through the forge.
His voice boomed through Nidavellir.
"We Dwarves will serve only Asgard! No one else shall take our craft—not even a sliver of iron!"
His declaration was met with cheers from the other Dwarves. They laughed, downing barrels of ale, their roars of defiance shaking the very ringed megastructure they called home.
Lin Fan exhaled through his nose.
So this was their confidence.
They thought Asgard would protect them.
It wasn't arrogance—it was faith.
For generations, Nidavellir had been shielded from war, untouched by the conflicts of the galaxy. Asgard had always been their guardian, and in return, they had forged its greatest weapons—Mjolnir, Gungnir, and countless others.
They never needed to fight.
And because of that—
They didn't understand what was coming.
---
Ebony Maw's gaze darkened beside Lin Fan.
"Sire, shall I teach them a lesson?"
The air around him shimmered, his telekinetic power flaring to life.
Supergiant stepped forward as well, her eyes glowing with unnatural energy.
"Sire, I can control their minds," she said smoothly. "Make them follow you… willingly."
Lin Fan didn't respond right away.
Instead, he observed the Dwarf King's face.
A face carved from centuries of labor and unwavering loyalty.
This wasn't a man who could be broken so easily.
Lin Fan closed his eyes briefly.
And in that moment, he thought back to his own past.
To the person he had been before this life.
Before he had power.
Before he had become The Anomaly.
If someone had come to him—back then—demanding his submission, threatening everything he knew and believed in…
He would have resisted, too.
Lin Fan opened his eyes.
For the first time in a while, he understood.
This wasn't just a military encounter.
This was a clash of faith.
And faith—was a dangerous thing.
---
He rose into the air, floating above the assembled Dwarves.
His voice was calm, but it carried across the forge like a whispered truth.
"You put your faith in Asgard."
The Dwarf King's eyes narrowed.
Lin Fan tilted his head.
"Then tell me… where are they?"
The Dwarves stiffened.
Because he was right.
Asgard should have responded by now.
The Rainbow Bridge—capable of transporting Asgardian forces across the cosmos—should have opened the moment an invasion was detected.
But it hadn't.
There was no Odin.
No Thor.
No warriors from the golden halls of Asgard.
Nothing.
Silence fell over Nidavellir.
Lin Fan let the moment linger.
Then, he spoke again.
"Your God-King isn't coming," he said softly. "Because he is afraid."
The Dwarf King's face darkened with rage.
"Blasphemy!" he roared, lifting his massive blacksmith's hammer and hurling it forward.
The weapon—capable of shattering entire mountain peaks—shot toward Lin Fan like a falling star.
He didn't move.
He didn't need to.
He simply raised a finger.
And the hammer—stopped.
Suspended in midair.
A weapon that could crush entire battlefields was nothing in his grasp.
Lin Fan turned his gaze back to the Dwarf King.
"You've made a mistake."
A soft hum filled the air.
Then—
A pulse of black light expanded from Lin Fan's palm.
The Morph Ray.
A fan-shaped burst of energy surged forward, swallowing everything in its path.
The Dwarves froze.
Eyes widening.
Muscles locked in place.
Then—
Their massive bodies began to shrink.
Metal armor collapsed inward as limbs condensed, their towering forms rapidly compressing down, down, down—
Until all that remained were hundreds of pieces of candy.
Tiny, bite-sized remnants of warriors who had once forged weapons for gods.
Lin Fan slowly descended, stepping onto the metallic floor of the forge.
He gazed down at the scattered sweets.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, finally—
He picked one up.
Examined it between his fingers.
And sighed.
"Sometimes," he murmured, "I almost feel bad about this."
Then, he popped the candy into his mouth.
And devoured them all.
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