"Buddy, don't walk around with that long face. Come on, you need to get used to the Bifrost!"
Hassenburg didn't care one bit about Zhuogeng's resistance to his new name. He called the great dragon by it immediately.
At the same time, he gave the dragon's neck a light pat, and a beam of Rainbow Bridge light instantly hammered down.
Experiencing the Bifrost for the first time, Zhuogeng twisted through the radiant tunnel with clear discomfort and landed on unsteady feet.
You think he was shaky from dizziness?
As if!
He'd chickened out again…
The moment the colossal Rainbow Bridge blazed to life outside the palace gates, countless warriors turned to look.
Einherjar with ghostly flames flickering in their eyes. Berserkers gripping their frenzied war spears.
As soon as that hen-hearted Zhuogeng saw those warriors, his tail began to tremble.
But he had a solution. He immediately spun his body around, showing off the Hassenburg on his back to the sea of soldiers.
And so, Hassenburg sat there on the base of the dragon's neck, rolling his eyes as he got shaken… back and forth…
Annoyed, he kicked Zhuogeng and leaped down from the dragon.
"It's His Majesty!"
"What in the… there are still dragons in the Nine Realms?"
"A rare creature! Quick, pen it up and raise it. Haven't seen a dragon in ages!"
"A fire dragon, and not just any fire dragon—look at those wings!"
"Smells like Muspelheim. His Majesty didn't actually kill Surtur, did he?"
"Wouldn't be a surprise. No matter which king it is, a scrap with Surtur is always on the agenda!"
The berserkers were overjoyed. The dragon Hassenburg brought meant they could finally escape Hela's brutal training for a bit.
In no time, Zhuogeng found himself surrounded by berserkers.
Watching the panicking dragon, who was practically hopping from foot to foot in terror, Hassenburg let out an exasperated roar.
"Roar! (Don't cause trouble. Do what they tell you. If you get hungry, go find them!)"
After that parting command, Hassenburg walked up to Hela and gave the stern-faced woman a nod.
"I let Surtur go. As long as I'm around, no matter where he finds power, he'll never be able to bring about Ragnarök.
Also, this is Regin's Flame—a dragon sealed in Muspelheim twelve thousand years ago. It's a creature with neither experience nor courage.
Train it well. Later, I'll look for other dragons elsewhere. Let's see if we can forge a dragon-rider legion."
"No problem, Your Majesty!"
Hearing Hassenburg's words, Hela felt a surge of deep satisfaction. As Asgard's general, Hela had zero resistance to anything that made Asgard stronger.
Besides, Hela had always harbored one regret—that her betrayal had cost Asgard its only, and mightiest, cavalry and aerial combat unit!
Long ago, when Hela raised her rebellious blade against Odin, the Valkyrie legion stood against her.
In that war, Hela had slaughtered more than three thousand Valkyries. She'd taken down their winged horses right along with them…
And now, looking at Zhuogeng, who was gradually shedding his fear and starting to grow curious about Asgard…
Hela smiled.
"Your Majesty, I'll first try to see if something can… happen between Fenrir and this dragon. I hope the dead Fenrir still has the ability to reproduce!"
"Wait!!!"
That remark absolutely shocked Hassenburg.
"One's a wolf, and one's a dragon!!!"
"Is there a problem, Your Majesty?" Hela asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Well…"
Hassenburg thought it over. Fuck, there really wasn't a problem.
In pretty much every mythology, no matter what species you mixed together, they always seemed to produce some kind of bizarre offspring.
From a theological perspective, that's called the union of divine natures.
From a scientific perspective, that's called biotechnology.
But even so…
Hassenburg rubbed his forehead wearily.
"They're both male, Hela."
"Yes, and is there a problem with that, Your Majesty?"
"I…?!!" Hassenburg was speechless.
He could only turn around and silently mourn for Zhuogeng, who was still hovering near the palace like a giant cat, cautiously observing everything.
Then Hassenburg turned back and gave Hela one last instruction.
"Zhuogeng's life is already hard enough. Whatever happens, don't force him."
"Mmhm. I know what I'm doing, Your Majesty!"
With that, Hela offered Hassenburg a rigid smile before striding over toward the berserkers.
"You damned bastards, get away from that weak little dragon! Get back to your posts! Pick up your spears and continue your combat drills!
Anyone who loses their sparring match goes without food for three days, damn it!!!"
…
Watching the short-tempered drill sergeant Hela, Hassenburg shrugged and turned toward the palace treasury.
He made his way to the Eternal Flame and reached his right hand into the fire.
Silently feeling the temperature of the Eternal Flame, his mind kept communicating with the blaze.
Once he grasped the core of the flame, tendrils of fire streamed up his fingers and flowed into his arm.
With that ever-burning arm, Hassenburg summoned the Bifrost. Heimdall had already left him the coordinates to Nidavellir back when he'd gone to Muspelheim.
…
On the dwarf planet, the current dwarf king, Eitri, was doing exactly what he had done for millennia—aimlessly hammering away at Uru alloy while downing strong liquor brought by his attendants.
As a master forger, whether or not he had an order, Eitri always kept himself busy preparing materials for divine weapons.
Forging was never a job for dwarves. It was a passion, the lifelong love of their people!
Just as Eitri brought his giant hammer down on the metal ingot before him, the designated arrival area off in the distance—built to welcome guests of all kinds—began to shimmer with the rainbow light Eitri knew so well.
That glow made Eitri's movements freeze. He dropped his forging hammer and clapped a huge hand on the shoulder of the dwarf assistant beside him.
"This Uru ingot is yours now. It still needs at least seventy million more strikes. Don't you dare let me spot a single flaw in its luster, understood!"
With that, Eitri hoisted his massive wine jug and led over a dozen dwarves—all much shorter than him, barely three meters tall—toward the rainbow light to welcome it.
The iridescence faded. Eitri's mouth split into a wide grin.
"Odin, my old friend… wait. You're not Odin. And you're not Thor or Loki, those two little troublemakers, either?"
As he spoke, Eitri's gaze landed deeply on Hassenburg's arm. Master of countless materials across the cosmos, he recognized immediately that the flames coiling around it were Surtur's Eternal Fire.
At the same time, the radiance spilling from Hassenburg's entire being was nearly blinding him!
"A sun god. This is truly unbelievable. I thought after Baldr died, no one would ever be able to claim the rune of light from Odin again."
While speaking, Eitri stepped right up to Hassenburg and studied the man, who stood barely over one meter eighty, from high above.
"I'm Eitri, the dwarf king of Nidavellir. And how should I address you, new sun god of Asgard?"
"Hassenburg!"
Hassenburg stated it plainly. Then he slid his left hand into his pocket and pulled out Surtur's impossibly enormous Twilight Sword.
The moment the blade touched the ground, Eitri lit up with excitement.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look at this! Surtur's weapon and Surtur's fire!!!
This is the finest fire-forging material in the Nine Realms! Even in the entire universe, only a handful of materials surpass it in the properties of flame—barely.
Like the Phoenix Fire, ha! Not exactly something we can get our hands on."
Still talking, Eitri reached out with casual familiarity and snatched the Twilight Sword from Hassenburg's hands.
"Just look at you, my poor little lad. What you're wearing is practically no better than rags. Even my leg hairs are worth more than that.
So, you brought these materials to forge your armor, or your weapon?"
Saying this, Eitri propped the Twilight Sword up and rapped his thick fingers hard against its blade.
"It's not that I don't want to forge both things for you, but divine artifacts have to maintain a unified integrity. You've brought one whole material, so they have to be combined to maximize the effect!
So choose quickly, little one. A weapon, or armor?"
"Armor!" Hassenburg said without hesitation.
His choice struck Eitri as rather unexpected. The dwarf king bent down, peering hard at the man below, and exclaimed loudly.
"Didn't choose a weapon? That's not the Asgardian way. Still, I'll satisfy any request you have!"
He immediately picked up the longsword and marched off toward the star forge.
As he walked, he kept talking to Hassenburg, who followed behind.
"Nidavellir and Asgard have cooperated for over eight hundred thousand years. The Bifrost, Gungnir—they're all works of my ancestors.
But I have my own masterpiece, and that's Mjolnir. That hammer is in Thor's hands now, isn't it?
Don't envy him, lad. Uncle Eitri will forge you a new weapon, even if you don't have the materials at the moment!
My realm stores large batches of Uru ore. You can use it for now. Don't feel awkward about it. Odin never stiffed us—he always compensated us at the right time!"
At that, Eitri reached out with a big hand and lightly tapped Hassenburg's shoulder.
"What style of weapon do you like? An axe? A hammer? A spear? Or a flail?
Don't tell me a dagger. No offense, but never pick that sissy thing.
I've spent my whole life mocking one Loki already. I really don't want to mock a second Asgardian god!"
"Hahaha!!!"
Hassenburg finally burst out laughing at Eitri's words.
In the films, what people saw was a dwarf king with no hands, his face full of grief and guilt, who had lost all his passion and vitality.
But here and now, before any of that had happened, the one standing in front of Hassenburg was the true dwarf!
Warm-hearted, cheerful, generous, sociable, and fond of hoarding treasures.
Looking at the exuberant Eitri, Hassenburg smiled from the heart, and at the same time gently raised his left hand.
"No need to worry about me, my friend. I already have my own weapon."
"Aha! Let me guess what it is. Tyr's severed wrist? Or one of Cul's hammers?
Trust me, they won't suit you. You are a god of light, a descendant of the sun. You need a weapon of your own!
I've got a rough idea of Asgard's collection, and there really isn't a weapon in there fit for you. Aside from Gungnir, which is compatible with all runes, no weapon will ever feel right in your hand!"
Here, Eitri laughed uproariously. As he laughed, he gave Hassenburg's back a gentle pat.
"I'm just joking, lad. Don't take offense at me teasing your king, haha!"
"Don't worry. How could I hold something like that against you? After all, you're not wrong. My weapon is indeed Gungnir."
Hassenburg replied, and with a simple gesture of his right hand, Gungnir instantly tore through space and embedded itself with precision right before him!
At the same time, Hassenburg rose, floating upward.
Holding Eitri's astonished gaze, he drifted up to the dwarf's shoulder level and gave it a pat.
"I don't know what kind of bond you had with Odin. If you were very good friends, then I'm sorry to say—he's dead. Died by my hand.
But Gungnir is honestly really great to use!"
/-\
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