All of a sudden, Harry's expression grew even more severe. He spoke in a low voice:
"You can't take your anger at Laufey for abandoning you and dump it on the entire Frost Giant race. Those weaker Frost Giants are innocent!"
The moment Loki heard that, his body stiffened hard.
His face froze, like a frame of film abruptly paused.
His eyes widened in sheer disbelief as he demanded, "How do you know?!"
The truth about his birth… Loki had only learned it not long ago.
He wasn't the Allfather's biological son at all—he was the son of Laufey, King of the Frost Giants!
Gods knew how shaken he'd been when he found out.
All his childhood worship of Odin, all his love for Asgard, all the effort he'd poured into proving himself—turned out to have been built on a lie.
He finally understood, as if waking from a dream, why the Allfather had always blocked him from ascending the throne.
He wasn't truly Asgardian.
Even if Odin had raised him, even if that care hadn't been fake—when it came to Asgard's inheritance and the fate of countless citizens, that love became painfully powerless.
How could Odin allow an "outsider" to rule Asgard… to hold the lives and deaths of its people in his hands?
That was why he wanted to destroy Jotunheim.
It was revenge for Laufey abandoning him as a child—and it was also his all-or-nothing gamble to prove himself to Odin.
He wanted everyone to see that his loyalty and sacrifice for Asgard went beyond anything they could imagine.
He believed he could surpass Thor. He believed he deserved the crown's glory and power more than Thor ever had.
Only he could truly protect this land and lead Asgard to greatness.
This secret—his very origin—Loki had planned to bury forever. Aside from Odin, Frigga, and a tiny handful of those closest to him, he didn't want anyone else to know.
So why the hell did Harry Potter know?!
Under Loki's death-stare—and with Gungnir in his hand, poised to strike—Harry remained calm, composed, unshaken.
He met Loki's gaze and spoke evenly:
"I read your thoughts. When you killed Laufey, your emotions spiked too violently—like a whirlpool on a calm lake. There was no hiding it."
In Kamar-Taj's library, on those shelves that had stood through ages, there were plenty of books on mind magic.
At first, Harry had been uninterested in peeking into people's minds. In his view, everyone had their privacy, and prying into someone's inner world wasn't a good thing.
But after learning Occlumency in the wizarding world—to guard against Legilimency—he gradually developed a strong interest in mind magic.
By now, Harry had deep mastery of Legilimency, and with Kamar-Taj's mind-reading arts layered on top, it was like adding wings to a tiger—an outright leap in capability.
So even though Loki was also a master of magic, the moment his emotions surged, Harry could still slip into his mind.
Loki's face darkened.
Gritting his teeth, he said, "You read my mind!"
For someone like him, having his mind read was… violating in a way he couldn't tolerate.
Feeling his inner world breached, Loki immediately treated Harry as a true threat. He reinforced his soul with defenses, completely sealing off Harry's access.
Then, without hesitation, he swung Gungnir.
Runes flashed along the spearshaft as a wave of devastating energy surged out like a tidal tsunami, swallowing toward Harry.
With the power of the divine weapon, Loki forced Harry back for the moment—then spun around and sprinted toward the Bifrost.
"You don't understand anything!" Loki's voice was filled with madness and resolve.
"Yes, I want revenge on Laufey—but only this way can I truly belong in Asgard instead of being treated like an outsider forever!
Today, no matter the cost, Jotunheim must be destroyed!"
With Gungnir in hand, even a casual swing released a cutting arc of energy that was far stronger than Harry's fully-charged super railgun.
Facing that kind of power, Harry had no choice but to draw on the Hoary Hosts of Hoggoth—using the array's ability to transmute matter—turning the onrushing slash into a flurry of butterflies that scattered in every direction, barely stopping it.
That magic was extremely special. It granted a sorcerer the ability to transmute most forms of matter, and its defensive strength was terrifying—arguably even stronger than the Shield of the Seraphim.
But precisely because it was so defensive in nature, it carried a huge flaw.
No matter what struck the Hoary Hosts of Hoggoth array, it would trigger instantly—and then shatter immediately after triggering. Even a harmless pebble would cause the same result.
So if Loki attacked him a second time, Harry would have no choice but to flee in embarrassment.
Through the hole Thor had blasted in the wall, Harry looked out.
Loki was copying Thor now—using Gungnir's power to propel himself in flight. He was absurdly fast, already reaching the end of the Bifrost and entering the control chamber.
Harry instinctively tried to Apparate to stop him—only to remember that Asgard was under full lockdown. All the ancient rune arrays had been fully activated.
The moment Harry vanished from his spot, space forcibly squeezed him back out.
He splinched.
Harry silently restored the thick, misplaced arm that had inadvertently been exposed.
Under Queen Frigga's gaze—her hand pressed to her red lips, eyes wide, staring at him in stunned horror—Harry's face reddened slightly. He leapt straight out from the upper levels of the palace and flew toward the Bifrost's end.
Back where she stood, Frigga's legs went weak, and she collapsed onto the floor.
Thinking back to what she'd just seen, she still felt her heart pounding.
She had never witnessed something so vicious and terrifying.
It was far too frightening.
With that thought, she couldn't help glancing at her husband, deep in the Odinsleep, and she pursed her lips.
…
Loki reached the end of the Bifrost. The sea wind howled, his cloak snapping violently behind him.
After a brief hesitation, his eyes hardened with resolve. He strode to the console, about to drive Gungnir into it as the key to activate the Bifrost—splitting Jotunheim in two.
But at the moment his hands tightened around the spear and he prepared to insert it, he thought of Harry chasing from behind.
If he let go of Gungnir, he would absolutely not be a match for Harry.
So Loki swept his gaze around, urgently searching for an alternative.
Then he saw it.
A familiar cold glint—Heimdall's Guardian Sword, left behind.
Loki's eyes lit up as if he'd found salvation in the dark.
He rushed forward, snatched up the sword, and drove it into the control unit without hesitation.
Hofund—the Bifrost Sword—carried the same authority as Gungnir.
The Bifrost fully activated.
The massive energy-focusing mechanism at the bridge's end began spinning at high speed, letting out a deep, rumbling roar.
It greedily drew in mysterious power from the cosmos. Its radiance grew brighter and brighter as energy surged and condensed inside it like madness.
In an instant, the emitter locked onto the direction of Jotunheim—and a blinding beam detonated outward.
The brilliant beam tore through incomprehensibly vast distance and struck Jotunheim head-on.
The thick column of power drilled deeper and deeper toward Jotunheim's core. Under that apocalyptic force, Jotunheim trembled—like something fragile that couldn't help but shake.
It wouldn't take long.
In just a few minutes, Jotunheim would be completely torn apart under that horrific power, collapsing into cosmic dust—erased forever from the map of the universe.
That world-ending spectacle was displayed openly before the eyes of the Nine Realms.
Across other worlds, people looked up, legs turning to jelly, bodies trembling uncontrollably, fear filling their eyes.
The same thought flashed through countless minds:
Is Asgard expanding again—dragging the Nine Realms back into endless war?
But on Midgard—Earth—the scene was completely different.
People simply looked up calmly, glanced once at the dim, oppressive sky that felt like the end of the world, then went right back to what they were doing.
Ever since Tony Stark had burst onto the scene as Iron Man, unbelievable events had been appearing one after another, battering humanity's sense of reality.
Over time, people grew used to it. Their hearts barely rippled—like this, too, was just another tiny interruption in everyday life.
On the way to the Bifrost, Harry linked up with Thor, and the two finally reached the bridge's end.
Loki had frozen the Guardian Sword solid. Bitter cold crawled along the blade, spreading outward, drowning everything nearby in a mist of frost—making sure no one could pull it out.
Now Loki stood with Gungnir in hand, radiant light shimmering over his body. He spoke to Harry and Thor with icy certainty:
"You can't stop it. The Bifrost will split Jotunheim in two.
I'll prove to the Allfather that I'm worthy of being his son!
When he wakes, he'll know it was I who saved him. I who protected Asgard. I who wiped out that monstrous race and ended a war that has lasted for thousands of years!
I—Loki, the God of Mischief—am the true heir to the throne!"
Thor's fury erupted instantly. His beard trembled with emotion, his chest heaving as he shouted back:
"No! You can't exterminate an entire people!"
"Why not?" Loki's face turned persuasive, his voice carrying a strange, seductive pull, trying to shake Thor's conviction. "Why are you suddenly showing mercy to Frost Giants? Don't forget, my brother—if you wanted, wiping them out would be effortless with your power!"
"I've changed—ah!"
Thor had barely started to answer when, without warning, a fist slammed into the side of his face.
The sheer force sent him flying, crashing down to the ground in a heavy sprawl.
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