There were no trees, no buildings, only a patch of knee-deep wild grass that was blown by the wind like a wrinkled dark green flag.
At the edge of the grassland was the edge of the continent, where waterfalls plunged, the sound of water roared, water vapor rose, forming a faint rainbow in the sunlight.
A giant wolf was running across the plains.
That was a huge gray giant wolf, with a shoulder height of at least ten meters and a body length of more than thirty meters, its gray fur rustling in the wind as it ran.
Its limbs were thick and powerful, and every time it landed, it would leave deep claw marks on the ground.
Its eyes were amber, the vertical pupils burning with a wild light, and sharp fangs protruding from its lips, each one looking like a carefully polished dagger.
Hela waved her hand, and it obediently came to Hela’s feet, lowering its body to affectionately nuzzle her face.
Hela patted Fenrir’s nose and with a light leap, mounted its back.
Seeming to sense Master’s low mood, Fenrir whined and galloped away into the distance.
The human and the wolf finally stopped in an open area.
This was a slightly rolling hill, and on the hill stood a huge ancient tree whose trunk was so thick that it required more than a dozen adults to embrace it.
Its lush canopy resembled an opened giant umbrella, blocking out most of the sky’s light.
Fenrir lowered its body, letting Hela slide down from its back.
After landing, Hela tore off the bracer on her wrist and slammed it fiercely onto the ground.
The metal bracer smashed onto the grass roots with a dull thud.
She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling violently, and her green eyes burned with irrepressible fury.
Then she began to speak.
“How could he do this?”
Hela’s voice was not loud, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between her teeth, carrying a texture like metal friction.
“How long have we fought side by side?
Hundreds of years?
Thousands of years?
I conquered the entire Nine Realms for him!
The Fire Giants of Muspelheim were stepped on by me begging for mercy, the Frost Beasts of Jotunheim were slain by my own hands, and those nobles of Vanaheim knelt before me and swore allegiance to Asgard——”
She turned abruptly and punched the trunk of the ancient tree.
With such great force, the entire tree trembled, and countless leaves rustled down.
“And now he tells me it’s enough?”
Fenrir raised its head, nuzzled Hela’s arm with its huge nose tip, and let out a low whimper.
Hela reached out to stroke the giant wolf’s muzzle.
Her movements were very light, but her fingers were trembling slightly.
“He says the Nine Realms have already surrendered, and peace should be returned to all living beings in the Nine Realms.”
There was sarcasm in Hela’s voice.
“Peace?
Fenrir, did you hear that?
The King of Gods, the conqueror of the Nine Realms, that Odin who swept across the entire star domain with the momentum of thunder, is now talking to me about peace.”
She let go of Fenrir, walked to the ancient tree, leaned her back against the rough trunk, and slowly slid down to sit.
Her hands hugged her knees, her posture very much like a wronged young girl, completely different from the overbearing Goddess of Death just now.
“What I want is not peace.”
Hela said in a low voice.
“What are the Nine Realms?
The Nine Realms are merely the smallest corner in this star domain.
How big is the Universe, Fenrir?
Asgard’s territory should be as big as the Universe.
Why stop?
Why stop just when it’s beginning?”
Fenrir did not answer, only quietly lying beside Master, using its huge body to block the wind blowing from the plains.
Hela raised her head and looked at the sky revealed through the gaps in the canopy.
Asgard’s sky was a clear azure blue, very much like Earth’s sky, but outside that blue, twinkling starlight was faintly visible, reminding one that the true location of this continent was not on the surface of some Planet, but deep in the Universe.
“He has grown old.”
Hela said, her voice suddenly becoming very soft, as if talking to herself.
“His power clearly hasn’t declined at all, and his divine power is still as mighty as before, but he is afraid.
He has developed the mindset of a father, wanting to protect, wanting to maintain, wanting to hold tightly onto what he has already obtained, for fear of losing it.”
She let out a short sneer.
“But we are gods.
Gods should not fear loss.
Gods should always move forward, always expand, and always conquer.
This is the meaning of being a god.”
Asat Pramad stood in the Shadow, hearing every word Hela said clearly.
His dice slowly rotated, and the symbols engraved on them seemed to glow faintly.
Every sentence of Hela’s words was confirming his judgment.
Hela at this point in time was in the state most easily won over.
Her rupture with Odin had just begun, her ambition was burning fiercely, and her unwillingness was like a poisoned dagger pressed against her own heart.
“Isn’t this a delivered opportunity?”
Asat Pramad chuckled in his heart.
He did not appear immediately, but continued to observe for a moment.
Hela’s personal aura was very strong.
Even in a low mood, her surroundings were still shrouded in a faint dark green energy fluctuation.
That was the divine power of the Goddess of Death, an innate power as the Crown Princess of Asgard.
This power gave Asat Pramad a peculiar tactile sensation.
In the perception of Lord of Annihilation, Hela’s divine power was like a suppressed flame, scorching and irritable, yet sealed inside by a thin layer of ice shell.
“Do You Need My Help?”
This sentence rang out in the silence after Hela’s complaints fell, unhurriedly, with just the right volume, neither appearing too abrupt nor lacking enough penetration to ensure Hela could hear it clearly.
Hela’s reaction was faster and more intense than he expected.
Almost at the same instant the voice sounded, Hela bounced off the ground.
Her right hand clenched in the void, and the dark green divine power condensed into a long sword, with a dim luster flowing across the blade, and the tip pointing directly at the direction the sound came from.
Fenrir also stood up at the same time, its huge body blocking in front of Hela, letting out a threatening low roar deep in its throat, killing intent bursting from its amber beast pupils.
“Who?”
Hela’s voice was cold and sharp, without any redundant emotional fluctuations.
The angry daughter who had just been leaning against the trunk complaining about her father had disappeared, replaced by the battle-hardened Goddess of Death, the feared conqueror in the Nine Realms.
Asat Pramad walked out from the Shadow.
His movements were unhurried, his leather shoes stepping on the grass with an even rhythm.
The White swallowtail suit shimmered softly in Asgard’s sunlight, its hem swaying gently in the breeze.
He did not make any aggressive gestures, his hands naturally hanging at his sides, his pace calm and elegant.
On his neck, that big purple hand lifted the slowly rotating dice, the dice faces flashing with dim purple light.