Chapter 78: Choosing One of Three Factions to Defect To—Is There Even a Need to Think?
Thor desperately wanted to ask Du Wa, "Do you even hear what you're saying?"
What did he mean, the fourth Thor? How long had it been, and a fourth Thor was already appearing?
Thor had just managed to sort through his tumultuous emotions, deciding to step out from the shadow of Loki's departure, send his brother his blessings, and gaze excitedly at his father, who wasn't actually dead.
But he was quickly thrown off by Du Wa's words.
Thor counted on his fingers. Including Du Wa and Sentry, there were already three Thors.
And among them, the second and third-generation Thors were both essentially Du Wa...
"The fourth-generation Thor is you too?" Thor's expression was a little stiff, his gaze clearly asking, *Are you kidding me?*
Although Thor had accepted the reality of losing Mjolnir months ago, it didn't mean he would truly give up on it forever. At every moment, Thor was examining his own heart, longing for the day he could once again lift the good partner that had accompanied him in battle for a thousand years.
Du Wa had obtained his bloodline through the Xenomorph, and coupled with Du Wa's own character, he was ultimately able to lift the hammer of Thor. Thor had always felt this only proved that Du Wa was one of the few who barely met the qualifications.
And that was only achieved by relying on his, Thor's, bloodline. In a roundabout way, wasn't it he himself who had been lifting Mjolnir all along?!
Mjolnir was still that same picky hammer.
But now, coming from Du Wa's mouth, it was as if Thors were a dime a dozen. A fourth-generation Thor was about to appear?
"Believe me, not this time. I will find a user for Mjolnir who can truly lift it with their heart alone, and I already have a suitable candidate in mind," Du Wa said earnestly.
Odin, who had been indifferent at first, couldn't help but give Du Wa a couple more glances.
However, in the end, it was just about the ownership of a divine artifact, not a matter of principle.
"Thor, don't worry too much about Mjolnir's future. I'll find it a reliable new partner," Du Wa said with a serious expression.
"Actually, I've been wanting to find a chance to tell you since before this war started. I think I'm already able to—"
"I don't care what you think; I care what I think. I think Mjolnir itself wants to try something new."
Thor was sullen. He just felt that his current self should be qualified to wield Mjolnir again.
This wasn't just about him regaining his divine power and becoming that strong, confident god; it was also a form of validation for himself.
"Don't worry about that, Thor. You are the God of Thunder, not the god of hammers. Mjolnir is just a weapon to assist you, not the source of your power. Have you forgotten? All the strength you possess was gained through constant training," Odin said.
Thor looked blank. Of course he knew that, but what exactly should he do to unlock his own intrinsic power?
"You will understand. In a little while, come with me to Nidavellir. I'll have the Dwarf King forge you a weapon that belongs exclusively to you," Odin said, patting Thor's shoulder.
"Then what about Mjolnir? It's my exclusive weapon too."
"No, it is not..."
Odin didn't say much more. His time was short, and he needed to lay the foundation for his only relatively reliable offspring as quickly as possible.
Once he died, Hela would break free, and the heavy responsibility of resisting her would fall upon Thor's shoulders.
As for Du Wa, who had taken Mjolnir...
"Return the Destroyer Armor. You can have Mjolnir, but not this," Odin said, holding out his hand.
Du Wa paused, then shrugged. "If it were just me and Thor here, I could have totally bluffed my way through. What a pity."
It was easy to imagine. Odin was currently paving the way for Thor with all his might. He would take Thor to Nidavellir to obtain the strongest weapon, and the strongest armor was, naturally, the Destroyer.
This thing had received the blessings of all the Skyfathers of the World Tree. A thousand years ago, Odin, wearing this, had dared to stand against the Celestials.
"What about the Casket of Ancient Winters? Don't tell me Loki took it. One can only imagine how dangerous it is for someone with his personality to run around Earth with that thing. The people at Kamar-Taj won't just let him run amok," Du Wa immediately changed the subject.
"I will negotiate with the Ancient One. You don't need to worry about it." Odin's tone grew heavier. "The Destroyer Armor was originally something Loki and Thor lent you, not a gift. Of course, regardless of your thoughts, you did indeed wear this to eliminate a powerful enemy for Asgard. As a reward, I will grant you permission to use the Rainbow Bridge. If you need transportation, you can call for Heimdall directly. As long as the request isn't excessive, Heimdall will accommodate you."
Clearly, Odin had seen through Du Wa's procrastinating and uncooperative exterior to what he truly desired.
"A pity. I was originally thinking of giving the Destroyer Armor to the fourth-generation Thor. But since you insist, then it shall be returned to its rightful owner. Thank you for the payment for my services."
Du Wa's body trembled, and the Destroyer Armor spontaneously detached from him, coming to stand by Odin's side.
Du Wa wasn't actually too attached to this armor. After all, it was a divine power armor that required divine power as its energy source to achieve maximum effectiveness. For him, it was destined to be just a temporary piece of equipment.
"I hope Heimdall can periodically transport my Xenomorphs back and forth between Earth and Jotunheim. I need to capture enough Giants to serve as hosts for the Xenomorphs. These are the spoils of war I deserve as the victor."
"Do you plan to completely eliminate all the Giants in Jotunheim? To exterminate their entire race?"
"How could that be? You, at the very least, wouldn't agree to that, would you, Odin? The stability of the Nine Realms is what you care about most. At least until Thor grows to your level, maintaining the status quo is the best outcome, right?"
Du Wa spoke bluntly to the father and son. "Of course I don't plan to kill every native life form in a world, but I need Jotunheim as a stable source of hosts. Let me think, how about fifty thousand? As for those Giants who willingly defect to me and agree to become hosts, they'll be counted separately."
This was the division of the spoils. To be honest, with that one statement, Du Wa was claiming at least half of Jotunheim's population.
The number of hosts needed just for chestbursting was fifty thousand, which meant fifty thousand Giants would die tragically at Du Wa's hands, their corpses devoured as food for the Xenomorphs.
Such a number certainly couldn't be borne by the Frost Giants alone; the other Ice Giants, Frost Giants, and Wind Giants would also have to share the burden.
And this was only the number of Giants who would be chestbursted.
As for those who submitted to Du Wa's power, cooperated willingly, and agreed to be implanted without the chestburster emerging to serve him, that was another matter entirely and not included in the fifty thousand.
Adding the two together, the Giants of Jotunheim might face a future of extreme suffering, but who was to blame but themselves for being defeated?
At least they survived. After a few million years, perhaps they could regain their vitality.
"Truly vicious means. If this were tens or hundreds of thousands of years ago, you might have been the most formidable opponent I faced on my path to conquering the Nine Realms."
In the end, Odin agreed. After all, the ones dying weren't Asgardians, but the people of Jotunheim who had wanted to destroy Asgard.
In truth, he had no choice. If he didn't let the native divine race of Jotunheim offer up their bodies to satisfy Du Wa's appetite, was he supposed to have the Asgardians fill the role instead?
Impossible. Odin was no naive saint full of benevolence and peace. Besides, Thor would need Du Wa as a steadfast and reliable ally in the future.
Du Wa left first, taking his greatest prize, Laufey, with him.
"Thor, be careful of this person. He is even more dangerous than you imagine. Likewise, his ambition far exceeds your imagination. However, what's reassuring is that, for now, he still has some sense of honor, which means your dealings with him won't necessarily be all bad," Odin said with a sigh as he watched Du Wa's departing figure.
The times had changed.
Thor said, "My gut tells me he's trustworthy. As long as I make sure not to be an obstacle when he's trying to do something. If possible, I will ally with him."
Odin remained noncommittal, offering no comment. Because when that time came, for better or worse, Thor would have to bear it all himself.
He couldn't even solve the problem of Hela, so how could he concern himself with what Du Wa would become in the future?
He most likely wouldn't live to see that day.
"And Laufey..." Odin sighed. He never would have thought that one of his most powerful rivals would meet such an end.
Perhaps in the little time he had left, he might meet Laufey again. But at that time, he would still be himself, while Laufey would no longer be Laufey, but... a Xenomorph!
What would the Xenomorph that chestbursted from Laufey look like? It would certainly be tall, and its body would surely be pale blue, just like the other Xenomorphs born from Frost Giants.
But how much of Laufey's power could this Xenomorph inherit? It couldn't possibly be stronger than Laufey himself. Divine power wasn't something that could be simply passed on through genes.
"After we return from Nidavellir, I will begin high-intensity training with you. You'd best be prepared, or you won't be able to inherit my power," Odin said.
This would be the greatest power he left for Thor, but whether Thor could handle it was up to him.
If he succeeded, a Thor possessing the power of the Thunder God and the power of Odin, empowered with a host of divine artifacts, would have enough confidence to face Du Wa, and even those Celestials who were more dangerous than Du Wa, in the future.
The few individuals of esteemed status departed, but the actual division and plundering of Jotunheim had only just begun.
Under the continuous flashing of the Rainbow Bridge, a steady stream of Giants from various races were hunted down and captured on a massive scale. The future that awaited them was a result that everyone knew all too well.
If the Giants who hadn't initially stepped onto the battlefield to fight Du Wa had a chance of being hosts to Xenomorphs without being chestbursted...
Then the warriors who had stepped onto the battlefield, only to be completely frozen by Loki's Casket of Ancient Winters and captured whole by Du Wa, would undoubtedly, for the most part, meet a miserable end.
The Xenomorph was inherently a cold-blooded species that was incredibly cruel to its enemies, to say nothing of the master who ruled them.
All the various worlds within the scope of the World Tree were closely watching this unique grand conquest and plunder. The once independent and proud Frost Giants were now utterly dejected, whipped in terror, their limbs severed and eyes gouged out during fierce resistance, then dragged away on the spot to be implanted.
Mercy was the rarest of treasures on the battlefield.
Furthermore, the original ecosystem of the vast Jotunheim had been severely damaged. Many areas had become uninhabitable, meaning the original living beings would also face a long and miserable fate.
No one would stand up for them. Everyone who saw this scene, who gazed upon the fields of blood and countless severed limbs, who listened to the cries of separation and the howls of despair, fell silent.
The investigators sent from the various worlds looked on and fell silent. Don't misunderstand, they weren't righteously indignant for these divine Giant races of Jotunheim; they were mainly shocked and uneasy at the formidable strength and ruthless methods displayed by Du Wa.
Du Wa's rise was too fast, and his style, at least in their eyes, was sufficiently radical.
"The Xenomorph is a life form that can parasitize a host and seize the host's most superior genes?"
"Although this creature is powerful, there's no way it could seize the divine power of a god race along with everything else. At most, after seizing the bloodline, it could gain the qualification to cultivate divine power."
"It is Du Wa who has brought the Xenomorph race to a level they don't belong. Look at those powerful Xenomorphs fighting the Giants of Jotunheim. Some have been chestbursted, some haven't, but they are all Xenomorphs without exception, and many of them are formidable."
"Are you talking about the one who fought Laufey? According to the intelligence we gathered from Midgard, that person wasn't Du Wa, just one of Du Wa's subordinates."
"No, the spiritual frequency on that person changed, as if he became a different person. There's definitely something wrong. Perhaps this is one of Du Wa's abilities."
Any figure of importance on the World Tree had lived for eons. They had seen and heard of far too many strange individuals. The two major battles against Dormammu and Laufey were enough for these experienced and sharp-eyed individuals to notice something.
Everyone committed the tragic state of Jotunheim to memory, frantically discussing in private the grim fate that awaited the defeated Skyfather, Laufey.
Some had already begun to act, preparing to make contact with this new, powerful race that had appeared on the World Tree.
"But these creatures are not a divine race, after all. They haven't been acknowledged by the World Tree, which means they are not one of us."
Nidavellir.
The Dwarf King scratched his messy hair in frustration. He had initially a good impression of Du Wa due to his close cooperation with Asgard. A leader of a powerful race willing to dispatch his grand army and pay the price of life and death was someone no one could refuse.
But the thought that this Xenomorph species was completely different from the god races of the World Tree made him feel awkward again.
The Dwarf King was an extremely picky and meticulous god. Without such a personality, he couldn't have forged the divine artifacts coveted by all the god races.
"They are not a divine race now, but perhaps they will be soon enough."
Odin arrived with Thor, his voice majestic. "With the many god races of Jotunheim as his vassals, he will surely be able to cultivate a group of Xenomorphs carrying divine bloodlines. These are all the seeds of a new god race."
"Even if these so-called Xenomorph god races you speak of are, on a genetic level, still the various Giants of Jotunheim? At most, they'd possess stronger talent. If the Xenomorphs also capture and parasitize the Fire Giants and Rock Giants of Muspelheim, then they'll have collected all the giant god races of the World Tree."
The Dwarf King immediately retorted, then said joyfully, "I knew a guy like you wouldn't die so easily. Bringing your son here this time, have you finally made up your mind? I've said it before, let me tailor-make a weapon for you Asgardians; it would save you many years of training."
...
Skurge walked with a look of despair down the golden, resplendent avenues of Asgard.
All around, Asgardian civilians swarmed, frantically throwing various objects at the numerous Giant captives, including him.
*If only there was food among the things they were throwing, then I could at least eat some to replenish my strength,* Skurge thought wearily.
Compared to the other Giants, Skurge seemed far too small and thin. Forget comparing him to the dominant race of Jotunheim—the Frost Giants—even next to the second-rate divine races like the Ice Giants and Wind Giants, he was a shorty.
There was no helping it. He was a hybrid born from an Asgardian and a Wind Giant and had lived his whole life in Jotunheim. Of course he would fight as a Giant of Jotunheim in this world war.
Because of his hybrid origins and weak body—in the eyes of the Giants, a height of just over two meters was indeed a pipsqueak not worth mentioning—Skurge had been bullied and ridiculed by the surrounding Giants since he was young.
But Skurge refused to submit, unwilling to accept a mediocre fate. He had honed his killing skills for so many years. Though short, he possessed the bloodlines of two god races, so his strength, speed, and other attributes were not weak in the slightest. In the world of Jotunheim, he had brutally hunted various kinds of Giants, which had earned him the title of "Bushwacker."
But now it was all for naught. The strength and status he had painstakingly accumulated were now useless. He had unluckily encountered a world-class, brutal war before he could truly rise, and now he had lost even his most basic dignity.
As a hybrid descendant, Skurge was not on the front lines at the very beginning. The army that first charged to deal with the Asgardians and Xenomorphs were the Frost Giants, whom Laufey trusted and relied on the most.
Skurge was mixed in with the second wave, fighting alongside the Ice Giants, Frost Giants, and others, only to be tragically frozen by Loki.
Although Skurge had been unable to move, unable to quickly break free from the power of the Casket of Ancient Winters, he had remained conscious. He had the fortune of witnessing the great battle between Du Wa and Laufey, and he personally saw Du Wa beat Laufey down, dismember him, and take him away.
This process reminded Skurge of when he was a child, hacking at the young Wind Giant who had bullied him. The bloody scenes were very similar, and the one acting was just as cold and indifferent.
The Giants, who were usually so full of themselves, were as humble as ants in a war of this scale. Even someone as strong as Skyfather Laufey ultimately met such a tragic end.
He stiffly turned his head, looking at the Xenomorphs escorting him.
It was these creatures, and their master, who had single-handedly orchestrated all of this. Jotunheim's unprecedented, painful defeat, the fall of an entire world, was also the joint work of this person and the Asgardians.
Even if Skurge's head wasn't the sharpest, he knew that this person, not Asgard, was the key in this battle.
His revered Skyfather had also met such an end.
"Heh heh, I hear these things will invade my body, seize the best genes inside me, and finally be born in the form of a Xenomorph by tearing through my chest? They'll also eat my corpse for nutrients... This means a Xenomorph with my genes—no, with even better potential—will appear... Such an end isn't so bad. At least I'll have lived on in another form."
Skurge fantasized about that scene and suddenly let out a low laugh. The laughter grew louder, tinged with a thick, bloody scent, which successfully drew more curses upon him.
He found it all so amusing. Those idiots who bullied him for being a hybrid, every single one of them, was finished. Even their tall statures and the pure bloodlines they were so proud of would be stolen from the very source by these Xenomorphs. What a great irony.
Everyone was becoming a damn Xenomorph. He'd like to see how those fools would laugh then. Would they cackle with a Xenomorph's inner jaw, spitting out the sounds with a crunch?
Just then, a commotion stirred in the crowd, which quickly parted to make way.
"The queen! The queen is here!"
"This... why would Queen Frigga be here?"
"We must protect the queen! Don't let these filthy Giants startle her!"
*The queen? Why would someone of her status come here...*
Skurge's mind was racing. Then, he heard a familiar cry. He looked up in disbelief at the figure beside Frigga.
Skornheim, his mother, a sorceress who served Frigga!
"Is that him, Skornheim? Your son?"
Frigga confirmed, then walked up to a Xenomorph and began to negotiate in a low voice. Even as a wise sorceress, Frigga wasn't entirely sure if these Xenomorphs would listen to her.
Currently, the Xenomorph language course was not yet fully developed. Frigga hesitated whether to use mental magic to facilitate communication with the Xenomorphs, but worried that such an act would be too rash and might trigger their instinctual resistance.
Frigga was well aware of how powerful and dangerous these Xenomorphs were, and she also knew of the delicate relationship between Asgard and Du Wa. She was happy to see this relationship become more solid in the future and was unwilling to stir up trouble over trivial matters.
Skurge was released on the spot.
The proof came when a Dracula Xenomorph unlocked the divine power chains on him, roughly grabbed him by the neck, and tossed him out of the line.
Then, without so much as a second glance, the Dracula Xenomorphs escorted the remaining captives to the prison.
There, a large number of Xenomorph eggs, transported from Earth, were already waiting for these hosts to arrive.
This rough directness was so very Xenomorph-like, fitting their wild image perfectly.
Skurge's head was a mess. He couldn't believe he had been saved in such a manner, and by the mother he hadn't contacted in years.
"Child, take good care of your mother. It took her a great deal of effort to find me and plead for you."
Frigga's voice was very gentle, and she left the mother and son to their time.
Skurge was silent for a long time, not very good at interacting with his birth mother. His eyes were just fixed straight on those incredibly strong Xenomorphs.
"What, are you still worried these Xenomorphs will attack you? Don't worry, they are our allies, and now they are your allies too. I shouldn't have left you with your father. I should have brought you to Asgard back then. That way, you would have been an Asgardian from the start and wouldn't have to face these terrifying creatures."
Skornheim lowered her voice, as if afraid of disturbing the extremely dangerous Xenomorphs.
"Look, see those pitch-black Xenomorphs walking over there? Their original hosts seem to be a group called the Deviants. According to Queen Frigga, they are life forms created by the Celestials. I don't really understand, but it seems they were defeated and conquered by the Xenomorphs."
The Celestials? What was that? Skurge had never heard of them. Judging by the name, was it an organization formed by a group of cosmic gods? More than one cosmic god.
"As for the type of Xenomorph that just threw you out, they're rather strange. Even Queen Frigga hasn't been able to figure out what their hosts were. The preliminary judgment is a race from Midgard called Vampires. That race was also defeated by the Xenomorphs, and their entire race was turned into hosts."
Skornheim spoke, trying to ease the relationship with this son she hadn't seen in several hundred years. "But these Xenomorphs are a bit too strong. They definitely couldn't have been born from Vampires in the conventional sense. And they all look almost identical. I heard Queen Frigga has already made this a very important research topic... Ah, you might not know, but even though Queen Frigga never appears on any battlefield, she is a vital force in protecting Asgard, a very powerful sorceress, and also very skilled and proficient in scientific research."
Skurge's mind was no longer on his mother's words at all. His eyes were locked on the Xenomorphs. Then he abruptly turned his head to look at the few people who were also Xenomorph hosts but had not been chestbursted.
Many of them looked like unremarkable people from Midgard, standing in the middle of the Xenomorph ranks. None of them were Asgardian.
The defeated Giants walked past them, and some of the more timid ones were already trembling uncontrollably.
"Those people are pathetically weak. I can feel it. Their superpowers are nothing noteworthy. I could kill them with a single swing of my axe."
Skurge said, pointing at the few cold-faced Mutants.
"What nonsense are you talking about, my son? They are our allies, and they are very strong..."
"These weaklings are respected today only because they joined that person's group. Jotunheim was crushed and conquered by this race. Even Asgard doesn't dare do anything to them."
Skurge quickly came to a correct conclusion: "Then, wouldn't a person of extraordinary talent like me have a much brighter future than these weaklings? I've decided. I want to join the Xenomorphs, to become a Xenomorph."
As for his paternal race—the Wind Giants? To hell with them. Forget the Wind Giants, he wouldn't even be an Asgardian anymore. He chose to join this faction that had perhaps not been established for very long.
If he had to choose one of three factions to become a part of, then why not just go all the way and choose the strongest one from the very beginning?
(end of chapter)