Chapter 54: I Spent So Much to Annihilate Asgard

Surtur had come.

Wielding the Twilight Sword, an infernal weapon prophesied to herald annihilation and Ragnarok, he plunged it downward, divine flames cascading off his colossal form. In a single catastrophic strike, he tore through the heart of the Asgardian realm.

The instant his molten foot crushed the soil of Asgard, he threw back his head and unleashed a roar—raw, euphoric, and cataclysmic. His body blazed like a living sun, and in the blink of an eye, the frozen realm turned into a molten hellscape.

That sudden, apocalyptic arrival had been no mere display, it was an all-out assault. The impact of his first blow rocked the entire continent of Asgard, shattering its crust and sending tremors rippling through the World Tree. The land itself began to crack and falter, teetering on the brink of collapse.

"Surtur!! What are you doing here?! Odin, that senile fool! He died without the spine to finish you off, without the foresight to eliminate future threats!"

Hela's fury ignited. Equal parts shock and wrath twisted her expression as divine energy surged violently around her. She cast a disgusted glance at Loki, who stood frozen in horror, and then launched herself at the fire giant with a roar of her own.

She could not allow Surtur to lay waste to Asgard unchecked.

To let him continue would be to usher in the true Ragnarok.

According to ancient prophecy, Asgard's fall would mark the blood-soaked dawn of a new age. Hela, goddess of death, rightful heir, and would-be ruler of all Nine Realms, would not tolerate such an outcome.

Rage toward Odin burned within her, hotter than Surtur's flames.

With a furious gesture, she summoned and hurled blade after enchanted blade at the flame demon. Each shrieked through the air with lethal intent, but Surtur, barely registering the assault, let loose a guttural roar and redirected his fury onto Asgard itself. His onslaught only grew more frenzied.

He was a Skyfather-level being, undying and eternal. Not even Odin had managed to kill him in the past. How could Hela hope to succeed now?

The ground beneath her was crumbling. Hela felt it in her bones, her power was waning.

"It's useless," Surtur sneered, voice booming like a volcano's heart.

"Not even the Necrosword can kill me!"

Then, with a final, devastating thrust of the Twilight Sword, he split the continent of Asgard in half.

The realm ruptured.

The skies tore open as countless Asgardians were cast into the void, their dying screams scattered like ash across the cosmos.

The Asgardian pantheon stood at the edge of extinction.

Not even the death goddess herself could save them.

No one had expected Surtur to return like this.

"Good. Now it's just you and me. Let's settle this once and for all. Either I die, or you do!"

Surtur's burning visage twisted into a snarl of pure bloodlust. He had discarded all restraint. One flaming sword slash cleaved through the air, aimed straight at Hela.

Asgard is gone. Why are you still clinging to life?

Two Skyfather-class entities clashed with unrestrained savagery, each consumed by ancient hatred, locked in a conflict as old as time. Every strike shook the cosmos. Each shockwave tore through reality itself, high-energy particles erupting in apocalyptic storms of destruction.

Hela, deprived of the power-boosting resonance of the Asgardian realm, began to falter. Even with the remnants of Odinforce burning within her veins, she was outmatched, still far from capable of defeating a primordial force like Surtur.

The clash shook all Nine Realms.

Divine eyes turned skyward in horror as the upper branches of Yggdrasil trembled. The continent of Asgard, once perched atop the World Tree, now crumbled. Its fragments plummeted through realms like falling stars.

Shouts of disbelief echoed:

"Why... why is Asgard gone?"

"Surtur?! He claims he comes by the will of the Machine God... Who is that?"

"Odin is confirmed dead. A cataclysm is coming. The war of millions of years past will rise again. The other eight realms are about to plunge into chaos."

Panic. Helplessness. Dread. They spread like wildfire.

Eyes wide with terror, divine beings across the realms watched as the battle between Hela and Surtur turned the upper planes of the World Tree into a war-torn hell. Nothing of Asgard remained, not even ruins.

And then—

A tear in space opened.

Martin stepped through, dragging Thor by the hair.

They floated in the vacuum of space, Martin calm, relaxed, almost amused, as if on a sightseeing tour.

"The Goddess of Death Hela? And... Odinforce too? So the old man made his move. Or maybe he just made a smart sacrifice."

Martin looked on, mildly entertained, eyes dancing as he watched the historic battle unfold.

ROAR!

Surtur's fury howled across the cosmos; rage, vengeance, and a strange, sick joy all woven together in his flame.

Martin yanked Thor's head up, holding him in a death grip, and muttered with a cruel smile:

"Look, Prince Thor. Do you see it? Asgard is no more. Your people? Gone. Every last one, dead. How does that feel?"

Thor's eyes widened in horror, blood tears streaking from the corners, his throat clutched tight in Martin's unyielding grip.

"Do you have any idea how hard I worked to bring Asgard down?"

"Shattering your hammer, provoking Odin, draining his already fading life, it was all part of the plan. Do you understand now?"

Martin's voice was a cold growl laced with malice.

"As long as Asgard stood, I could never build my own world. As long as its shadow loomed over the galaxy, I would never be free. That's how bad it was. That's what I had to destroy."

He forced Thor's gaze forward.

"So watch, noble prince. Keep those royal eyes wide open."

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