On a vast, empty wasteland in Helheim, a bonfire was burning brightly.
Darian sat by the fire, holding a large handful of meat skewers, turning them back and forth. The firewood crackled, the meat skewers sizzled with oil, and the rich aroma of roasted meat spread through the air.
Hela sat on a pile of stones beside him, holding a skewer of roasted meat in one hand, commenting while she ate.
"The taste of this roasted meat is really good."
"This meat is from Vanaheim's exotic beasts, right? I tasted it once during the wars thousands of years ago."
"I have to say, your craftsmanship is far better than the chefs in the Asgard palace."
She commented slowly, but her eating speed was not slow at all; a thick pile of empty skewers had already accumulated at her feet.
It was no wonder Hela was like this.
Helheim was a ghostly place where it was hard to find even a living creature. She had been imprisoned here for thousands of years and had never eaten a proper meal.
Although she had a special constitution and wouldn't die without eating or drinking, her mouth had long since grown bland. Even ordinary cooked food would be considered a delicacy to her, let alone Darian's roasted skewers, which were simply a heavenly delight.
Hela popped the last piece of meat into her mouth and grabbed the wine cup beside her, gulping it down.
"Good wine!"
Bang!
The wine cup was smashed hard onto the ground by Hela.
Darian didn't mind; he was already used to the traditional customs of the Asgardian.
He took a bite of the skewer and asked casually: "So, the Mjolnir, was it originally your exclusive weapon, specially forged for you by Odin finding the Dwarves?"
"That's right."
Hela wiped the wine stains from the corner of her mouth, her face full of spirit: "Back in the day, I held Mjolnir and slaughtered my way from Asgard all the way to Muspelheim. I killed for I don't know how many years, and wherever I went, rivers of blood flowed. The entire Nine Realms had to bow down to me!"
Darian was amused.
So, Thor treated that Meow-Meow Hammer like a treasure, but in the end, it was just a second-hand item, having already been ridden hard by his own sister.
Hela was clearly drunk, bragging and talking endlessly about the past.
Darian finally learned what the bones scattered all over Helheim actually were.
These bones belonged to the Valkyrie of Asgard. They were Asgard's top elite legion, and every member was a one-in-a-million elite.
Back then, Hela was about to successfully escape from prison, but it happened to coincide with Odin being busy dealing with the Frost Giant that had descended on Earth. He couldn't spare himself, so he sent this ace legion to stop her.
The outcome was obvious. At that time, Hela hadn't been imprisoned for too long, and her combat power was at its peak. With one large-scale AOE, she wiped out the entire Valkyrie legion. Those Valkyrie didn't even touch the hem of her clothes.
Speaking of which, it was truly absurd.
Clearly, these Valkyrie were individually very strong, no weaker than Sif, the Asgardian warrior goddess.
Even if they couldn't fight Hela to a draw, they should have been able to trade a few blows, yet they were all instantly killed by Hela.
It was like the Green Lantern Corps next door, known as the space Police, all of whom were cosmic powerhouses capable of standing on their own, easily taking on several supervillains in a one-on-one.
But once they gathered into a large group, they would trigger a team-wipe debuff and shatter at the slightest touch.
However, these were not the main points.
The key was the equipment of this batch of Valkyrie.
They were all top-tier elite magic equipment from Asgard, and even the horses they rode were pure-blooded top-tier Pegasus, capable of flying and running, worthy of being the Lü Bu among Red Hare horses.
Although those Pegasus were wiped out along with their Masters by Hela's "Myriad Swords Return to Origin," the equipment was preserved.
He immediately summoned several Ultron Robots and ordered them to search near the pile of bones, collecting all the equipment, whether complete or incomplete.
Hela didn't care.
She didn't even feel regret when an artifact like Mjolnir was taken back by Odin, let alone these pieces of magic equipment. She just considered it Darian's meal money.
The two chatted for a while longer. Hela seemed to be drunk, and the way she looked at Darian began to change.
"I think I'm a little drunk, my head is a bit dizzy."
She whispered, her body slowly leaning toward Darian, appearing as if she was about to press against him.
Darian remained expressionless, using one hand to press against Hela's cheek and push her back onto the stone pile.
"If you're drunk, find a place to sleep. Don't rub against me."
He saw through Hela's intentions at a glance.
This woman didn't even have red earlobes; she wasn't truly drunk, but clearly feigning drunkenness to take advantage of him.
Seeing that she couldn't take advantage of him, Hela was somewhat annoyed: "Enough! I am, at the very least, the eldest princess of Asgard. Being willing to treat you this way is already your supreme honor, yet you dare to reject me again and again!"
Darian sneered: "If you want to take advantage of me, even if you were a KTV princess, it wouldn't work."
Although she couldn't understand, Darian's disdain was undisguised.
Hela felt her self-esteem wounded, a sharp black blade extended from her palm, and her eyes were fierce.
"In that case, I'll beat you down and then ride you hard!"
In the mountains of Vanaheim.
Darian's figure suddenly rushed out from a spatial rift, looking somewhat disheveled.
He looked back at the spatial rift and breathed a sigh of relief after confirming Hela wasn't following him.
"This crazy woman!"
Darian cursed.
Being chased by a woman was indeed an enjoyable thing, but only if the woman wasn't holding a sword.
It wasn't that he couldn't beat Hela, but he couldn't handle the fact that this woman was completely reckless, willing to ignore injuries just to chop off his limbs, indicating that as long as she left his "fifth limb" alone.
In order not to let his little Darian fall into Hela's exclusive purple mood, Darian could only decisively choose a strategic retreat.
Fortunately, he had long ago instructed the Ultron Robots to transfer those ravager ships out, so there was no need to return to Helheim for the time being.
Darian checked the ravager ships one by one and found that they all had traces of damage, mostly caused by the aftermath of his fight with Hela earlier.
But this was not a big problem; Darian took out his forging hammer and could fix them with a few knocks.
He casually released a large number of Ultron Robots, letting them separately control the remaining ravager ships, while he boarded the largest ship among them.
"Master, unread messages detected."
As soon as he entered the cockpit and sat down, the Ultron Robot in charge of steering reported to him.
Darian looked up at the virtual screen that popped up in front of him and found that the messages were all from that idiot Quill, and there were a bunch of videos mixed in. The earliest one was from last month, and the latest one was from a week ago.
He clicked on a video.
The screen was shaking as if it were about to fall apart, and the lens was directly aimed at Quill's idiot face. The background was filled with the roar of artillery fire, the explosions of energy shells, and chaotic shouts.
Quill's face was covered in black ash, his hair was a mess like a chicken coop, and he was screaming at the camera: "Countryman! Come and save us! We've been found by Ronan's army! We can't hold on!"
In the picture behind him, one could vaguely see the other members of the Guardians of the Galaxy fighting fiercely with the Necro-soldiers under Ronan.
It was obvious that their hiding place on the Bohet Planet had been discovered by Ronan.
Quill wanted to ask Darian for help, but he had no way to contact Darian and could only try to contact Darian through the batch of ravager ships that Darian had confiscated.
It was a pity that Darian only retrieved these ships now, so naturally, he had long missed his call for help.
Finally, the screen suddenly went black, leaving only Rocket's clear cursing: "Quill, you idiot, stop filming your lousy video and hurry over to help!"
The next moment, the video was cut off.
Darian clicked on the remaining videos and messages and found that they were all Quill's requests for help, saying that they had fought their way out of the Bohet Planet and were being chased across the Universe by Ronan's Necrocorps.
And the latest message was that the Guardians of the Galaxy were surrounded by the Necrocorps.
Quill was crying in the video, leaving his last words, saying that having been a countryman with Darian, there was nothing good to give, so he would pass on all the debts he owed to him, at least leaving a memento.
Darian: "..."
However, although Quill was an idiot, he was still a bit clever, always sharing their accurate coordinates.
"Ultron, lock on the most recent coordinates."
Darian decisively issued the order.
It didn't matter if an idiot like Quill died, but Rocket absolutely couldn't have anything happen to him.
That was his pre-booked chief scientist. Whether it was the Destroyer ship or the modification of the defects in the Extremis, it was all thanks to this little raccoon. In his heart, his status was no less than Hank's.
If anything happened to Rocket, his HYDRA would lose a technical general.
"Coordinates locked, expected arrival in 43 minutes." Ultron's electronic voice sounded steadily.
"Very good, let's go immediately!"
Vanaheim.
This was one of the Nine Realms and the birthplace of the intelligent race, the Dark Elves.
But thousands of years ago, the Dark Elves attempted to return the Universe to endless darkness and declared war on the entire Universe, but they provoked Odin's father, who led the Asgardian army to descend here to stop them.
In that battle, the Dark Elves were almost completely wiped out, and it finally ended with the Dark Elves' leader selling out most of his clansmen to run away.
Today's Vanaheim had long since lost any traces of life. The entire Planet was pitch black, with yellow sand surging across the sky. Looking out, it was a boundless, desolate scene.
But now, this desolate land, which even interstellar pirates were too lazy to set foot on, was filled with dense Necro-ships.
They were cruising at low altitude, scanning every inch of the ground, seemingly searching for something.
Meanwhile, in a hidden underground cave on Vanaheim.
The Guardians of the Galaxy were huddled here, all looking extremely disheveled.
Even Gamora, who was always composed, was barefoot, her shoes likely lost while running.
They had fallen into this predicament all thanks to the crazy pursuit of the Necrocorps during this period.
For these past few days, they had almost no time to rest.
They were either on the run or on the way to running.
Several times they were almost killed, and once they were surrounded by the Necrocorps with almost no escape.
If they hadn't discovered an unstable wormhole in time and initiated a space jump, they would probably have been caught by the Necrocorps long ago.
After a lot of tossing, they eventually crashed onto Vanaheim.
However, that bunch of Necrocorps didn't have any scruples just because this was the territory of the Nine Realms and under the jurisdiction of Asgard; they followed them directly, looking like they wouldn't stop until they dragged them out.
After so many days of desperate flight, their ship's fuel was running low, and they couldn't even squeeze out enough for another short-distance jump.
Forced into a corner, they could only stay on Vanaheim and find a place to hide.
"What should we do next? We can't just hide here and wait for death, right?"
Gamora spoke in a low voice, breaking the silence in the cave.
Rocket rolled his eyes: "What else can we do? Our ship's fuel is already bottomed out, and outside are all the Necrocorps ships. If we rush out now, we'll just be sitting ducks!"
Drax held two daggers and replied in a muffled voice: "I'm not afraid!"
"Being unafraid is useless!"
"I am Groot."
"Being afraid is no good either!"
Quill looked at his bickering partners and quickly comforted them: "Don't worry, I already sent a message to my countryman. Maybe he'll come to save us soon. Even if he didn't see the message, I still have a Plan B."
"What Plan B?"
Before Quill could explain, a thunderous explosion suddenly came from the cave entrance!
The thick rock wall was instantly blasted down by more than half, and a large group of Necro-soldiers, holding energy guns, stepped on the rubble and rushed in.
"Oh no, they found us!"
Gamora let out a low roar, grabbed Quill beside her, and dove behind a rock cover. She flipped her energy gun and directly killed the two Necro-soldiers rushing in front.
Drax yelled and rushed out with his daggers, but he couldn't withstand the enemy's overwhelming numbers. Within two seconds, he was suppressed by the dense firepower and couldn't lift his head, his whole body being bombarded by energy shells.
Groot stood in front of Rocket, his arms instantly expanding into a thick wooden shield, firmly blocking the incoming energy shells, while Rocket hid behind the wooden shield, holding a heavy cannon larger than himself and firing back frantically.
Despite this, they still couldn't withstand the numerous Necro-soldiers.
Seeing the Necro-soldiers closing in, blocking the cave entrance tightly, the group had no way out.
Whoosh!
At this critical moment, a huge ship slammed into the side wall of the cave.
The hatch opened, and a blue-skinned man with a mohawk on his head walked out.
Before he could say a word, Quill rushed over, slid to his feet on the ground, and hugged his thigh tightly.
Immediately after, Quill turned his head and roared at the surrounding Necro-soldiers at the top of his lungs.
"My dad is Yondu! If you want to catch us, you have to get past him first!"
Yondu: "..."
You little brat!
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