King Laufey of the Frost Giants was forced to his knees, his massive frame bent backward as Herman pressed down on his throat. His colossal body slammed heavily into the ground.
Even standing four to five meters tall, his sheer bulk far greater than Herman's, Laufey's thick arms—broader than Herman's entire body—couldn't pry apart the hand clamped around his neck. No matter how much force he exerted, Herman's grip didn't move an inch.
It didn't feel like a human hand at all, but like a pillar anchoring heaven and earth—utterly immovable, no matter how hard he struggled.
Staring into Herman's eyes, Laufey felt nothing but endless terror. Panic filled his heart—the primal instinct of a lesser lifeform confronting a superior one.
"How is this possible! How can you resist the power of a sacred relic! A mere human from Midgard—how can you possess such strength!?"
Laufey roared in disbelief as Herman forced his body into a grotesque posture, bowing him into the ground.
If not for his transcendent nature, which freed him from the need to breathe, Laufey would have already suffocated. Even so, his voice should not have been capable of such a scream.
"You're not human!"
Laufey's eyes widened in horror, utterly unable to accept what he was seeing.
The freezing rays from the Casket of Ancient Winters continued to bombard Herman, but he stood as if they didn't exist.
This sight shattered Laufey's understanding of the world. Only now did he realize why Thor's expression earlier had been so conflicted.
How could anyone withstand the Casket's power?
Even the King of Asgard himself had nearly been slain by it once, barely escaping when he failed to dodge in time. That artifact was one even Odin could not face head-on!
Could this man truly be stronger than Odin?
Impossible!
Even the Mad Titan, famed across the cosmos for his unmatched physique, could not endure such a thing!
Herman wasn't merely resisting—he was ignoring it entirely.
This was a cold born from the realm of death itself, meant to wither all life! Laufey couldn't fathom what kind of being could simply dismiss such power.
"A frog at the bottom of a well... How many worlds have you truly seen? Humans are a lowly species? Do you know how many humans exist before whom you're nothing but dust?"
Disgusted with Laufey's arrogance, Herman pressed down harder. Laufey's massive frame smashed into the concrete, the ground beneath him caving in instantly. Shards of stone flew outward, spiderweb cracks splitting the earth in all directions.
The collapse spanned dozens of meters in radius, sinking deep into the ground—and that was with Herman exerting only a fraction of his strength.
Clad in a black battle robe that emphasized his form, Herman's presence radiated raw power, undeniable and overwhelming.
"Cough... cough..."
Laufey, a mere quasi–Sky Father—and a weak one at that—winced in agony under Herman's crushing force.
It wasn't just the pain of his body being overpowered. The golden flames coiling around Herman's hand scorched him deeper still, searing his very soul.
He struggled desperately, unleashing every ounce of hidden power to break free, but it was utterly useless.
Clutching the Casket of Ancient Winters tighter, he forced it to unleash another torrent of blue light that slammed into Herman's abdomen. The extreme cold radiated outward in waves, freezing the city around them in the blink of an eye.
"Not bad. Stronger than before. Can you push it any further?" Herman remarked, sensing the frigid ray grow in intensity under Laufey's fear and rage. Yet the increase was limited, and Herman's voice carried an almost eager anticipation.
At first, Herman had only wanted to test the Casket's power.
But once he did, he discovered an unexpected delight—the energy of the Casket of Ancient Winters was like a delicacy, rich and satisfying.
"No... this can't be real... What are you!? The cold of the realm of the dead—no living being should be able to withstand this temperature!"
Laufey screamed, unable to comprehend the look of pleasure on Herman's face. He had already pushed the Casket to its very limit.
Yes.
The very limit of what he could wield.
"The frigid cold of the realm of the dead—pfft. You say the living can't endure such temperatures. True enough. On that point, I still agree with you."
Herman let out a soft laugh, his tone mocking. "But in a sense, I'm not one of those living beings who fear death."
The King of the Frost Giants before him was truly ridiculous—trying to kill a Lord of the Dead with the very death energy of the realm of the dead. It was no different from giving your opponent an adrenaline shot before a race.
Yes.
The cold within the Casket of Ancient Winters came from the realm of the dead.
For someone like Herman, who bore the mantle of [Lord of the Dead], it posed no threat at all. In fact, it was invigorating—a powerful tonic that left him feeling refreshed.
"Can't push any further? That's a pity."
Seeing that Laufey had reached his limit, Herman casually tore the Casket of Ancient Winters from his grip.
"Perhaps it'll give me a pleasant surprise."
With one hand he held Laufey down, while with the other he lifted the Casket, examining the energy it contained.
When the frigid rays struck him earlier, the [Realm of the Dead] within his body had absorbed them entirely. That was why it had felt so satisfying—the freezing ray was genuine nourishment to him.
Even a fledgling [Realm of the Dead], once it absorbed power from the Marvel Universe's realm of death, had grown more refined, its rules more complete.
Herman had gained considerable benefit. Now he wanted to see whether the Casket could further evolve the [Realm of the Dead] inside him.
"That's mine! You can't take it!"
Laufey thrashed violently again, his face twisted with rage and disbelief. For a moment, his fury even outweighed his fear of Herman.
"Yours?"
Herman tilted his head, feigning puzzlement. "Didn't you say it yourself? The one who holds power defines truth. I say it belongs to me now. Do you have a problem with that?"
As he spoke, his grip tightened.
Laufey's massive body was pressed even deeper into the ground. The golden flames burning brighter in Herman's hand seared him mercilessly, drawing a pained roar as his neck blackened like charred wood.
Even as Laufey frantically activated the runes across his body, the icy power flowing within him was useless against Herman's Sky Father–level divinity.
He barely managed to keep his neck from being completely incinerated, layers of frost rapidly forming to patch his failing body.
But it was only a matter of time. Once that icy power ran dry, his head and body would inevitably part ways.
The earlier freezing ray, coupled with Laufey's explosive outburst, had already blanketed the entire city in a deathly chill.
The cold was so intense that even Thor, standing some distance away, shivered faintly. Watching Herman walk unharmed through the extreme cold, he could only feel the absurdity of it all. How could someone this powerful exist—and live in Midgard of all places?
"The gap between us... it's enormous."
A heavy sense of despair filled Thor's heart. His dream of "revenge" now felt hopelessly out of reach.
As Asgard's crown prince, he was well aware of the relics within Odin's Vault. He had even heard tales of Odin being struck by the Casket's power, losing an eye forever as a result.
"Could he be stronger than Father himself!?"
Thor could hardly believe it, though part of that was his own inexperience.
Just as Laufey once believed Odin incapable of resisting the Casket, both he and Thor had overlooked the truth—that Odin hadn't been at his peak during the Frost Giant wars.
Odin hadn't been born a Sky Father; he had grown into one over eons. The younger Odin who fought Laufey had been far weaker. Asgardians only grew stronger with age, reaching their greatest power near the end of life. In those days, Odin's strength may well have been close to Thor's current level.
"No matter what... I'm definitely not his match."
As despair weighed on Thor...
"Damn human! How dare you desecrate the great King of the Frost Giants!"
To the Frost Giants, Laufey was faith itself. Yet watching their king, even with the sacred relic in hand, utterly crushed—it was beyond belief. It took them long moments to recover from the shock.
"Release our king! Return our sacred relic!"
The Frost Giants roared as they came back to their senses, raising their weapons and charging toward Herman and Laufey.
Their massive bodies thundered across the battlefield. Houses, cars, shattered concrete—everything in their path was pulverized underfoot.
By sheer physical power alone, these giants could withstand missiles. They were Asgard's old enemies, hardened elites.
Roaring, they surged forward.
One of them spotted Thor on the sidelines. Memories of his parents, lost to Asgard in his childhood, burned through his mind.
"The Asgardians must die too!"
Consumed by hatred, the Frost Giant abandoned even the thought of saving his king. He hefted a spear of ice and charged directly at Thor.
Bounding across wreckage, he leapt high into the air, spear raised, aiming to drive it straight through the Thunder God below.
"Looks like I'll get a warm-up after all."
Thor spun Mjolnir like a propeller, the hammer whirling at incredible speed. As the Frost Giant closed in, he hurled it with all his might.
"Boom!"
It was like smashing through ice.
Mjolnir, sparking with countless arcs of lightning, crashed into a Frost Giant's jaw. The giant who had charged at Thor for revenge had his head burst apart like a watermelon.
The headless body toppled with a heavy thud, dissolving into a pool of icy-blue blood.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to—but you brought this on yourself." Thor couldn't defeat Herman, nor had he ever beaten Laufey, the Frost Giant King wielding the Casket of Ancient Winters.
But when it came to minions, they were nothing. Even elite Frost Giants were no match for Asgard's commander and crown prince.
"Either way you were going to die. At least by my hand, it was quick." Thor had a strange little habit of talking to the dead.
Muttering down at the pool of blue blood, he then turned his gaze toward Herman. He had already predicted the fate of the Frost Giants rushing forward.
If even the power of the Casket couldn't harm the man clad in black, what hope did these soldiers have?
"…Guess this guy could just stand there, and the Frost Giants wouldn't even scratch him." Thor's tone brimmed with envy.
He was a warrior who lived for close combat. To have a body as strong as Herman's, one that didn't even need to defend against attacks—that was something he longed for.
"King! We've come to save you!"
"Lowly human! Release our king at once!"
"You'll pay for your blasphemy with your blood!"
The Frost Giants roared as they closed in, spears of ice forming in their hands, thrusting toward Herman's back.
One after another.
With runes flowing across their bodies, they conjured spear after spear, endlessly.
The Frost Giants were a race famed for raw power. The weapons they hurled could pierce through the steel-like bodies of Asgardian warriors with ease.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—"
The speed of more than a dozen Frost Giants was staggering.
Spears ripped through the air in a deafening storm, blotting out the sky, filling it with a lethal rain that howled straight toward Herman's back.
"Your kind wants to make me bleed..."
Herman didn't even look back. With every escape path sealed by the hail of ice spears, he didn't move. Instead, he simply pressed his foot down on Laufey's skull.
The Frost Giant King's face was crushed and twisted under the weight, the ground collapsing further beneath him. Only then did Herman slowly turn his head.
"What a cruel thought."
Even before he turned, the barrage of spears had already frozen in place, locked in the air by his telekinesis.
Now, as Herman looked back, he admired the scene above—the spears hanging motionless in the air as if time itself had stopped.
The giants kept throwing.
But no matter how fast, no matter how fierce, every spear froze in the same spot, unmoving.
"You dare call yourselves a higher civilization? Always so eager to draw blood, to slaughter. Compared to you, I'm far more merciful to my enemies."
His foot rested lightly on Laufey's head, yet no matter how the giant king thrashed, he couldn't lift his massive frame.
"Aaah!"
Laufey howled in agony. Runes blazed wildly across his skin, repairing his body beyond its limits. Sensing the end, he strained to the utmost, muscles trembling and taut as he tried in vain to break free.
But it was useless.
"You can't kill them!! You're challenging a mighty race! You'll face endless retribution!" Even now, Laufey tried to threaten Herman—clinging to the only straw he had left.
"I already said—I'm more merciful than you. I won't make you bleed. I'll just harvest your souls." Herman spoke softly, his voice calm and steady.
"Hunted by your kind? Hah. I welcome more nourishment delivered to my door."
As his words fell, the deathly aura that had long saturated the city suddenly stirred, surging wildly as if commanded.
Herman's words were the oracle of death itself.
The unseen energy resounded through the city like a hymn, weaving together as it swept over the Frost Giants.
It poured into them through nostrils, ears, mouths, even eyes—rushing into their bodies all at once.
Their life force was devoured in an instant. Giants who had been throwing spears froze mid-motion. Before they even realized what had happened, every movement ceased. Their eyes dulled, lifeless, leaving them like statues—motionless puppets.
"What… what is this!?"
From nearby, Thor's eyes went wide. The God of Thunder's face twisted in horror at the sight before him.