Chapter 29

The battlefield trembled under the weight of Lin Fan's victory.

The Aesir had come to avenge the Dwarves, to punish the one who had slaughtered their sacred craftsmen.

But now, their so-called divine warriors were in full retreat.

Above Asgard, a pair of golden eyes flickered.

Eyes that saw everything.

Heimdall.

The guardian of the Bifrost had stood silent for too long. But now, he could feel it—the desperate call of his king.

Odin.

The All-Father had issued his final command.

Heimdall gripped his golden blade, his jaw tightening.

Without hesitation, he plunged his sword into the heart of the Rainbow Bridge.

BOOM!

A pillar of blinding light erupted from the bridge, tearing across space, stretching across the cosmos—

And descending upon the battlefield.

In an instant, a colossal beam of rainbow-colored energy struck the heart of the war-torn land.

The remaining Asgardian warriors—bruised, bleeding, broken—felt themselves being pulled away.

One by one, they vanished into the light.

Their once-glorious invasion had become a desperate escape.

On the battlefield, Odin stood in the glow of the Bifrost, his breathing ragged.

The battle was lost.

He had lost an arm. He had lost Baldur.

Asgard had lost everything.

But they would live.

"You may have won this battle, mortal," Odin growled, his golden eye locking onto Lin Fan. "But the Aesir do not forget."

Lin Fan tilted his head, unconcerned.

"Sure," he replied. "Come back whenever you want."

Odin said nothing.

His divine aura flickered as he vanished into the light.

And just like that—Asgard was gone.

Lin Fan lowered his hand.

The battlefield, once filled with the fury of gods, was now silent.

The Dark Quadrant belonged to him.

But more importantly—

His true rule had begun.

The battle had proven one thing:

No one in the universe could challenge him now.

As the last traces of the Bifrost faded, a roar erupted from the Dark Quadrant.

The Chitauri, the generals, and all those who had watched the war bowed in reverence.

Lin Fan had crushed a pantheon.

There was no longer any doubt.

He was no warlord.

No ruler of a single world.

He was something far greater.

And the universe would soon learn.

As the dust settled, Lin Fan returned to the palace, where his war spoils awaited him.

Captured Asgardian warriors—nearly 100,000 strong.

The severed arm of Odin himself.

Artifacts that held the power of gods:

Gungnir, the Eternal Spear.

The Sword of Týr, the God of War.

Baldur's Sword of Light.

But one thing stood out among them all.

A prisoner.

Not just any prisoner.

A son of Odin.

Víðarr, the God of Nature.

Lin Fan's golden eyes narrowed.

"Interesting."

The war with Asgard wasn't over just yet.

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