The dark clouds that had been blasted apart began to gather again.
A burst of rainbow-colored light flared from the distant horizon, piercing through the thick, oppressive clouds like a radiant bridge. It descended straight toward the ground.
"Something's not right."
Herman watched the approaching Bifröst. Its flowing colors were strangely stained with a striking deep blue, as though frozen solid by some unimaginable cold. Within its glow loomed more than a dozen colossal figures.
"The Bifröst?!"
Thor, the God of Thunder, could hardly believe his eyes. The distorted hue was shocking, but what truly unsettled him was the bridge itself. This "Berserker" had believed Asgard destroyed beyond hope, never imagining the Bifröst could appear again.
"What kind of trickery is this?!" Thor's gaze at Herman was filled with grief and fury. The bridge's return had to be connected to this man.
Had he seized Asgard and claimed it as his own?
"Use that foolish brain of yours. Do you really think your pitiful strength could ever let you slip from my grasp?"
Golden light flashed in Herman's eyes as he recognized the figures on the Bifröst. He lost all interest in further mocking the god of thunder.
"Or do you think I can't tell the living from the dead?"
His words made Thor pause, caught off guard.
It was true.
No being of such power could possibly mistake the dead for the living. That would be the most basic, most unforgivable error.
His so-called lucky survival days ago… Thor had always felt it strange and suspicious, but he hadn't thought too deeply about it. Now, hearing Herman's words, he realized something was terribly wrong.
Had this man deliberately let him live?
But why?
"You destroyed Asgard! You killed my father! You slaughtered my kin and my people!"
Thor's fury only burned hotter as he stared at Herman.
Yet even as he raged, the descent of the Bifröst drew his eyes. He kept glancing toward it before snapping his head back to Herman.
"Snap."
Herman tapped his forehead, as though doubting Thor's intelligence.
"If Odin were truly dead, do you think the enchantment on your hammer would still remain? Death means nothingness. It erases all things—even the power once bound to an object."
He had no interest in fighting Thor again. The god hadn't even reached the level of a Skyfather. To Herman, he was nothing more than a life that could be crushed with a single gesture.
"Gungnir… You hold Gungnir. And you told me yourself—you killed my father and all of Asgard."
Had it been before the Bifröst's return, Thor would never have believed him.
But now, seeing the bridge, recalling the oddities of the past days, he knew something was wrong. Not only had Herman spared him, but if Asgard had truly been destroyed, the Bifröst could not still exist.
"You mean this?"
Herman raised his hand. Light shimmered, and Gungnir appeared in his grasp. He let it gleam for a moment before putting it away.
"Just a payment from your father—for helping him discipline his disobedient son."
Thor's mouth opened, but no words came.
He wasn't so slow-witted as to miss who the "disobedient son" was meant to be.
This had all been an act?!
His expression twisted in disbelief. It was harder to accept than Herman destroying Asgard itself.
"That's my father's weapon, the King's scepter. How could he…"
Thor tried to deny it, but his voice faltered.
Herman turned his gaze back to the Bifröst.
It had already connected to the ground, delivering those towering figures to the surface. He calmly pulled out a tape recorder.
"You know, your Valhalla is a remarkable place. It doesn't belong to reality, yet it can still contain things from reality."
With that, he pressed play.
"Thor doesn't need it to be crowned. A king's authority always comes from the love and protection he gives his people."
...
"I don't like owing people favors, so I'll keep an eye on your son."
A clear recording.
Even from a distance, Thor could hear it distinctly. His expression shifted dramatically. There was no way he could mistake his father's voice, and the other voice belonged unmistakably to the "terrifying dark god" standing before him.
No.
The relationship between this man and his father seemed… good. Good enough that his father had entrusted him with Asgard's most powerful artifact.
So… he's not some evil god?
He's actually a benevolent Midgard god who helps others?
Thor's mind spun at full speed, and as the truth dawned on him, his expression became even harder to describe. This revelation was somehow more unbearable than when he thought Asgard had truly been destroyed.
He'd been beaten mercilessly by this man.
And now reality was telling him he should be grateful—that this man had… no, had helped him grow and transform?
Thor did recognize his past foolishness and knew he had grown, but frustration burned inside him with no way to release it.
"This whole thing… is it another trial you and my old man set up for me?"
Thor wanted to explode, to charge at Herman and fight him right there.
But he stopped himself. He might be slow in many things, but when it came to battle, his instincts were sharp. Someone who could speak as an equal to Odin—someone Odin had given a priceless weapon to—was clearly on a level far beyond him.
Before, his rage at the "kingdom-destroying, kin-slaughtering" enemy had fueled him.
But now… Thor felt he'd been beaten enough these past days. He had no desire to be thrashed again for no reason. It was obvious Odin had wanted this man to pummel him. And the thought of being bloodied, toothless, and still forced to say "thank you" was unbearable.
"Maybe it was just your brother playing a joke on you? You should go back and ask him. Who knows—you might be in for a big surprise."
Herman shrugged and glanced down at the Destroyer Armor.
"Of course, it's also possible this thing was your father's thank-you gift, delivered through your brother."
With that, Herman pressed the Destroyer's core. The massive armor shrank and flowed along his arm, covering his body piece by piece.
The material of the Destroyer Armor, much like Ultraman, could expand or contract. The Gungnir had already triggered its master recognition protocol.
"This tin can is really uncomfortable to wear."
To Herman, the Destroyer Armor was nowhere near as comfortable as Superman's battle suit.
Still…
"It does have some interesting abilities."
He activated the Destroyer's core. In an instant, his body began to expand, growing taller and taller until he towered dozens of meters high.
This was the power of the runes etched into the armor—a gift that let its wearer grow to titanic proportions. Odin had forged it after countless trials, a way to stand on equal footing with the Celestials.
"The strength boost is obvious, and it can channel unique energy as well."
In this form, Herman looked no different from a Celestial himself.
After a brief test, he deactivated the enlargement mode and shrank the armor into a ring.
A third ring now gleamed on Herman's hand.
'If the All-Seeing Eye doesn't give me the Mandarin identity after this, it would be a disgrace to my style.'
He eyed the growing collection of rings on his hand, then turned his gaze toward the place where the Bifröst had descended—the same camp where the Destroyer had once appeared.
Herman didn't continue experimenting with the armor, for he saw more than a dozen figures landing. Frost Giants, each three to four meters tall.
Yes.
The same Frost Giants Thor had once wanted to challenge and conquer.
Beings from Jotunheim, the coldest of the Nine Realms—where only Frost Giants could survive. Loki, in truth, was one of them.
"Looks like your brother brought us some fun."
Herman hadn't expected Loki to send Frost Giants to Midgard.
"Oh? He gave you his weapon and his armor too. So that makes you Asgard's next king, right?"
Thor hadn't caught Herman's words. His voice was thick with bitterness. To him, his father seemed far too friendly toward this Midgard god.
No—more than friendly. If Odin hadn't been his father, Thor would have suspected without hesitation that Odin was actually trying to curry favor with this man.
"That's impossible!"
Thor startled himself with the thought and quickly banished it. The mighty and invincible Odin—how could he ever try to win someone else's favor?
"Your new king? Not a bad idea."
As Herman passed by Thor, he snatched Mjolnir straight out of his hand.
"I hear that whoever lifts this hammer qualifies to be Asgard's new king? Heh. But I've no interest in ruling over a bunch of aliens."
Herman toyed with the hammer for a moment before tossing it back to Thor, whose expression grew increasingly strained. He remembered—this man had wielded the hammer before, back when he'd beaten him senseless.
So, did his father truly believe this man was fit to be Asgard's king?
Thor's face stiffened, his heart a turmoil of emotions. He wasn't only shaken by no longer being Mjolnir's sole master; what stung even more was Odin's apparent approval of Herman. A hidden jealousy gnawed at him.
"Aren't you going to take a look at the trouble your brother has brought you?"
Herman's voice rang out nearby.
Thor snapped back to his senses and turned toward the spot where the Bifröst had landed. Over a dozen Frost Giants stood there. Having adjusted to the environment, their gazes now locked onto him.
"Frost Giants from Jotunheim? You call this trouble my brother brought? Damn him! His pranks have reached the height of cruelty!"
Thor showed no fear of the Frost Giants. He immediately rushed to Herman's side and strode forward to face them.
"You call this a prank? …Well, fine. Brothers being 'considerate' to one another. Not bad, not bad at all."
Herman couldn't help but feel the depth of the so-called bond between the two brothers. Truly, love and hate intertwined.
"Thor! Prince of Asgard! Your father can no longer protect you!"
The leading Frost Giant bellowed across the distance.
"Laufey."
Thor called the Frost Giant leader by name. "Last time, if not for my father's intervention, you would have died beneath my hammer. And yet here you are, daring to ally with my brother to come to Earth and cause me trouble!"
Indeed.
The leader of the Frost Giants was none other than their king, Laufey.
Loki's biological father.
And now Loki had effectively delivered him to Earth to die—whether that could be considered a kind of indirect kinslaying was up for debate.
Herman didn't bother stealing the Thunder God's moment. Instead, he carefully studied the so-called Frost Giants—a race of savage visages and jagged fangs.
Their skin was a deep, icy blue, clearly built for survival in extreme cold. Countless intricate runes were carved into their flesh, channels through which an overwhelming frost power flowed.
As a race that had clashed with Asgard's gods for endless years, waging war time and again, the Frost Giants' strength was not to be underestimated. Especially those marked with runes—these innate sigils allowed them to wield ice against Asgard's gods for centuries. The Frost Giants Laufey had brought to Earth were all elite warriors.
Each one possessed the strength to crush many of Earth's superheroes.
To put it bluntly, Spider-Man would stand no chance against even a single Frost Giant.
"The strength of a race lies in its leaders. Clearly, the Frost Giants' decline didn't happen without reason."
Herman shifted his gaze to Laufey, king of the Frost Giants. The monarch loomed a head taller than the rest, standing nearly four to five meters high, a spectral blue crown upon his head.
He certainly looked imposing.
But his actual strength left much to be desired.
Herman instantly gauged Laufey's power—only a Quasi-Skyfather, barely stronger than Thor. If Thor pushed himself to his limits, he might even defeat him.
With strength like this, how could he ever measure up to Odin?
Odin, a Skyfather who dared challenge the Celestials themselves. Even if he was swatted down in a single strike, the courage and might he displayed were undeniable. Think of it this way: no ordinary fighter would dare throw a shuriken at the First Hokage from miles away.
Marvel's power levels might far surpass those of Naruto, but the principle was the same.
"Sharp-tongued Thunder God of Asgard, today you will fall here."
Laufey, king of the Frost Giants, glared at Thor with killing intent.
He completely ignored Herman, dismissing him as just another Earthling. And to Laufey, Earthlings were nothing more than ants.
"I swore never to start another war. But my oath certainly doesn't mean I'll sit idle when enemies come to my door without striking back."
"You and your people have made a grave mistake."
Thor looked eager for battle. If he couldn't overcome the terrifying Earth god beside him, then surely a single Frost Giant was nothing to fear.
"Hahahaha! A mistake? It seems I've been dormant too long. You Asgardians have forgotten the fear I once brought upon you."
Laufey took a pitch-black box from one of the Frost Giants nearby. Opening it, he pulled out a massive energy core.
Waves of blue light flowed within it, vast and boundless like the ocean.
"My brother actually handed you the Casket of Ancient Winters… The mistake he's made—I'll make sure to settle that with him when I return."
Thor's face twisted with anger as he saw the object in Laufey's grasp.
Indeed.
What the Frost Giant King held in his hand was a cosmic relic, a mystical artifact truly called the Ancient Winter Treasure Chest. Both the Asgardians and the Frost Giants had long misnamed it, likely never knowing its true title. Herman, however, knew plenty about this item—but he had no intention of flaunting that knowledge.
"Handed it over to me? Damned Asgardians! It was mine from the beginning! Odin stole it from my hands and locked it away in your vault!"
"You are the real thieves! This is mine! My weapon! And I will make every last Asgardian pay the price!!"
Laufey's roar was hoarse and ice-cold, brimming with boundless rage and hatred. The Frost Giants around him mirrored that fury, each wearing the same look of seething enmity.
Their feud with Asgard was no simple grudge.
It was a hatred etched into their very blood.
"Is this the Midgardian friend you've brought along?"
Suddenly, Laufey's gaze fell on Herman, his eyes filled with malice. He raised the Casket of Ancient Winters and leveled it at him.
"Perhaps… we should begin by making him regret ever becoming your ally."