Midgard, White House South Lawn.
As the Mirror Dimension dissolved and the Ancient One vanished without a trace, a majestic, golden figure finally stood atop the statue of Franklin D.
Roosevelt.
Beneath a mane of spiky, hedgehog-like gold hair, a pair of sharp, hawk-like crimson eyes surveyed the crowd.
Clad in armor that seemed forged from solid gold, he emanated a blinding radiance; even his earrings were brilliant golden plates.
Karsa stood with arms crossed, looking down at the crowd, which stood arrayed against him like a battlefield.
A scornful, mocking smile curled his lips.
“My foolish brother, has the trial only just begun, and you already intend to eliminate your beloved elder brother?” Thor moved to speak, but the loose-lipped Tony Stark beat him to it: “Terrible taste.
Is this what passes for ‘wealth’ among you gods?
Do you have no sense of subtlety?” Thor’s face shifted instantly.
He turned to look at his brother, and sure enough, Karsa’s eyes were narrowed into slits.
The killing intent rolling off him was like the biting winds of Jotunheim.
“What manner of vermin dares to interrupt a conversation between gods?” With a flick of his wrist, golden ripples pulsed in the air behind him.
Bang, bang, bang!
From the ripples, blades, spears, axes, and halberds—every divine weapon imaginable—emerged, each radiating a razor-sharp, freezing chill.
They were all locked onto Stark.
Inside the red-and-gold armor, Tony blinked innocently.
“Did I push him too far?” “What do you think?” Captain America muttered, his hand gripping his shield.
He was becoming increasingly exhausted by Stark’s penchant for picking fights.
Nick Fury glared at the billionaire.
The man looked intelligent, yet he possessed the most dangerous mouth on the planet.
The rest of the team felt a chill, tensing up in anticipation of the onslaught.
Thor stepped forward to mediate, but Karsa’s fingers twitched.
The attack was launched.
The blades moved like lightning, a storm of metal that blanketed the entire lawn.
Stark was the primary target; at least seven weapons whistled toward him.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
Captain America barely had time to raise his shield.
Thor swung his hammer to swat away a barrage of longswords.
Stark fired his thrusters to take flight, but before he could clear the ground, the weapons pinned him to the dirt.
A heavy halberd slammed into the earth, its side-blade piercing the side of his armor, while two ancient blades drove through his limbs, nailing him to the grass.
“Sir, external armor integrity critical.
Punctures detected in the left leg and right shoulder.
Injecting adrenaline.
It will dull the pain, but the hemorrhaging poses a fatal risk!” “OK!
OK!
I don’t need the play-by-play!” Tony hissed through gritted teeth.
What kind of weapons are these?
Against these antiques, his cutting-edge armor felt like wet tissue paper.
Across the lawn, Fury, Natasha, and Barton were all wounded.
Natasha had a gash along her waist; Barton had tried to deflect a spear with his bow, but it had skewered his abdomen.
Fury—the Director—fared the worst: a spinning shield had cleanly lopped off his head.
Yet, as his body slumped, it shifted into the green-skinned form of an alien—a Skrull.
Only Captain America and Thor remained unscathed.
“HULK!
HULK!” The green giant roared in agony.
Enduring the pain, he ripped a barbed hook-spear from his chest and hurled it at Karsa.
It turned into golden dust before it could even cross the distance.
Karsa glanced at the raging behemoth, his expression frigid.
“A mere mad dog, daring to growl and bark at a god?” Behind him, hundreds of golden ripples lit up, forming a wall of light that blocked out the sun.
Hundreds of weapons, all shimmering with deadly intent, aimed at the Hulk.
“ROAR!” With a deafening bellow, the Hulk charged like a fearless bull toward the God of Light.
Tridents, greatswords, legendary blades—the weapons fell like rain.
The Hulk, caught in his mindless rage, didn’t even attempt to dodge.
He was turned into a human pincushion, collapsing heavily to his knees.
“Is this the extent of those who dare challenge a god?” Karsa sneered.
But the Hulk would not yield.
“HULK…
HULK!” He groaned, struggling to his feet.
His muscles bulged and writhed, slowly forcing the blades and spears out of his flesh, one by one.
“You still have the strength to resist?” Karsa chuckled.
Golden ripples appeared around the Hulk again.
Enkidu, the Chains of Heaven, shot out, weaving through the air to pierce the giant’s limbs and bind his throat.
The chains tightened, hoisting the Hulk into the air like Prometheus.
“HULK!” The pain triggered a heart-rending scream.
Rage surged, and the Hulk’s mass grew even further.
Karsa’s smile grew intrigued.
“An alternative form of immortality?
How interesting.
But my treasury contains many weapons tailored to negate the immortal.
How will you respond to this?” The ripples reappeared, housing weapons of various colors, including a massive, arm-thick Vajra.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Golden light flashed.
The weapons fired like shells.
Just as they were about to pierce the Hulk’s heart, a figure flashed through the air, blocking the path.
Clang!
Thor swung his hammer, knocking the incoming projectiles aside in a shower of sparks.
Despite his speed, he was a fraction of a second too slow; the Vajra slipped past his defense and pierced the Hulk’s chest.
The weapon suppressed the giant’s healing factor instantly, and the Hulk went limp.
“Hulk…
Hulk…” Karsa watched Thor standing before the fallen giant, a playful glint in his eyes.
“My foolish brother, are you pleading for this mad dog?” “He is no mad dog!
He is a partner I would entrust my life to!” Thor glared at his brother.
His words caused the dying giant behind him to shudder—it seemed this savage beast possessed more wit than Karsa imagined.
“He’s right!” Captain America stepped forward, his eyes steady, devoid of fear as he looked up at the arrogant God of Light.
“Even if you are a god, if you wish to harm my companion, you will have to step over my corpse!” Heh heh heh heh.
A low, mocking laugh echoed from above.
Karsa touched his forehead, his laughter growing more unhinged, until he finally threw his head back and roared with mirth.
“Hahahaha…
My foolish brother, your journey to Midgard has truly caused you to grow.
Do these pathetic ants stir such pity within you?” “This is not pity!” Thor tightened his grip on Mjolnir, his blood boiling.
He turned back, pointing at the Hulk and the rest of the Avengers.
“These are my friends, whom I live and fight beside.
Before I fall, I will not allow you to harm so much as a hair on their heads!” — Don’t forget to send Spirit Stones for more chapters.
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