"Forget it. I have no interest in the throne of Asgard."
Lucas shrugged. Hela's gaze was blazing and undisguised, as though she wanted to devour him whole.
Wasn't this blatantly obvious?
'Well-fed people really do start thinking about other things,' Lucas complained inwardly. Still, he advised her calmly:
"You'd better be careful. Ragnarök is a strange thing. If it truly comes to pass, you might end up losing that throne you just claimed."
"Tsk."
Hela scoffed dismissively.
"Once my coronation is complete, I'll personally go to Muspelheim and wipe out every intelligent fire spirit there."
"I refuse to believe those fools—whom I suppressed and purged three times in the past—can stir up any real trouble."
At that point, Lucas could only shrug. There was nothing more he could say.
Once Hela made up her mind, unless it directly threatened Lucas's core interests, he would neither interfere nor stop her.
That, incidentally, was one of the reasons Hela liked him.
A queen's will must be respected.
"Oh, right," Hela added casually.
"Wait until after my coronation before you return to Earth."
She set Gungnir beside the throne, walked down the steps, and stopped in front of Lucas.
"Or better yet, you don't need to go back at all. If there's anything to deal with, I can simply send people to handle it for you."
Lucas glanced at the pale hand resting on his shoulder and solid chest. He coughed lightly.
"Some matters need to be handled personally. Your soldiers can't solve them."
Hela leaned closer and whispered in his ear,
"Then I'll accompany you when you return~"
She even breathed softly against his ear.
'Damn it.'
Even with Lucas's highly tempered physique, he couldn't stop a shiver from running through his body.
This woman had been imprisoned for a thousand years—her loneliness had clearly reached dangerous levels.
Staying any longer would definitely lead to trouble.
"Uh—" Lucas said quickly,
"I think I'll leave the palace and take a look around. Last time I came to Asgard, I didn't really get to explore."
Hela's lips curved into a faint smile.
"I'll go with you. There's nothing urgent for me to handle right now."
Lucas inhaled sharply.
Boom!
Suddenly, a deafening explosion erupted, and the ground shook violently.
The entire great hall began to tremble.
"What's going on?" Hela immediately rose into the air and rushed toward the exit.
Yes—Hela could fly.
Asgardians originally could not fly, but under Lucas's guidance, she had mastered this unfamiliar ability.
Lucas followed closely behind, and the two quickly reached the outside of the palace.
Before them, the vast circular plaza between the palace and the Rainbow Bridge split apart with several massive cracks.
A colossal flaming hand thrust out from one of the fissures and slammed heavily onto the ground.
"Surtur!"
Hela and Lucas spoke at the same time.
At that moment, Odin arrived beside Hela with Frigga atop his winged steed, while Thor rushed in, spinning his hammer.
"What is going on?" Hela's expression darkened dangerously.
"Ragnarök," Odin said calmly.
"I know that," Hela snapped,
"but how did it start? Wasn't Surtur supposed to be in Muspelheim?"
"Well…" Thor spoke up hesitantly.
"Some time ago, I went to Muspelheim, killed him, and brought his skull back to Asgard."
Hela's fury exploded.
"Are you an idiot?! Killing him was one thing, but why bring his skull back to Asgard?"
"You could've thrown it anywhere—why here?!"
"I—I thought keeping it close would let me watch it more carefully…" Thor replied weakly.
"Watch your head!"
Hela was furious.
"Don't you know the relationship between Surtur and the Eternal Flame?"
"Don't you understand that objects with such deep connections should be kept on separate planets?"
Thor was speechless and could only apologize.
Frigga frowned and asked, "Where is Loki?"
"He was with me just now. He might—"
Thor stopped mid-sentence, realization hitting him.
"Damn it. It must be him!"
"Enough," Odin said sharply.
"This is not the time to assign blame. Ragnarök has begun, just as the prophecy foretold. We must stop it."
Everyone turned their gaze toward Surtur, whose upper body had already emerged from the rift.
Hela's anger surged.
With a sharp gesture, she summoned two enormous black spikes that burst from the ground and shot toward Surtur.
They pierced his body without resistance, causing him to throw his head back and roar—then struggle even harder to rise.
The earth shook more violently as the fissures widened.
"Die!"
Hela's fury peaked as she flew directly above Surtur.
She spread her arms, and black energy gathered wildly in the sky, forming a colossal black sword over a hundred meters long.
Dense green energy flickered along the blade, imbuing it with a chilling aura of death.
This was not the weakened Hela from the films.
This was a Hela forged through relentless trial.
Thor stared in disbelief. If he took that blow head-on, he would be utterly crushed.
With a downward sweep of her hand, the massive sword descended.
Surtur sensed the danger. His right hand emerged from beneath the ground, gripping a flaming sword.
As the giant blade fell, he thrust upward with all his strength.
The tips of the swords collided instantly.
A semi-transparent shockwave exploded outward from the impact.
Even so, it failed to affect those hovering in the air.
In the next instant, Surtur's flaming blade flared violently and then shattered into countless fiery fragments with a thunderous roar.
The tip of Hela's great sword cracked slightly—but under the dense green energy, it repaired itself almost immediately.
On Asgard, her home ground, Hela's power was effectively limitless.
At that moment, Lucas suddenly extended his hand.
The scattered fire fragments froze in midair, as if time itself had stopped.
Lucas closed his hand into a fist.
The fragments were crushed instantly into fine ash.
The display stunned everyone present. Such precision, speed, and control were far beyond their expectations.
Lucas calmly withdrew his hand, his expression unchanged, and continued to observe the battle between Hela and Surtur.
_____
T/N:
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