Chapter 79 - 79: The Legend of the Golden Flash

"Frost Giants?"

Lothar didn't even blink, his gaze fixed coldly on Hela, who was leading the way ahead. Her face was expressionless, and in the blink of an eye, countless weapons materialized around her, piercing through the chests of dozens of Frost Giants.

"Your camp was overrun?"

Lothar folded his arms across his chest, watching with detached indifference.

Hela said nothing. Instead, she walked up to a still-whimpering Frost Giant soldier, raising the gleaming sword in her hand.

"Why are you here? Tell me."

"Hela, daughter of Odin... I know you..."

The Frost Giant squad leader struggled to rise, only for Hela to coldly stomp him back into the snow.

"Tell me. Now."

What Lothar had just voiced was exactly what Hela feared.

This location should've been the Asgardians' end of the Bifrost teleportation point. But now, their camp had vanished without a trace, and Frost Giants were lying in ambush instead.

"Kh... khh..." Coughing blood, the Frost Giant leader's face twisted into a sinister grin.

"Looking for them? Then go to hell."

Squelch!

The blade plunged deep, a cold gleam flashing through the air.

"Impossible... If the camp was destroyed, how did Asgard not receive a single alert?"

Casually dispatching the defiant Frost Giant, Hela scanned the snow-covered terrain. Not a single sign of battle remained.

This was the Bifrost's terminal—any attack, even without an alarm from the camp, should've been noticed by Heimdall.

"Woz."

"Woz is scanning..."

"Scan complete, Lord Lothar. Significant life signatures detected ahead, slightly to your left."

Data flickered across the display over Lothar's right eye. As an advanced AI, Woz's reconnaissance capabilities far outstripped Hela's.

"Prince Lothar! Wait for me!"

Shaking off the effects of teleportation sickness,The Otherscrambled to his feet, scooping up the fallen azure scepter. He brushed off his robes and jogged to catch up with Lothar.

"Tch, this guy..."

Spinning her sword once in her hand, Hela made it vanish into thin air. Silently, she followed Lothar toward the location Woz had identified.

"Oh? Just missed the show?"

The ground beneath them, once pristine with snow, was now soaked crimson with blood. A large human settlement lay ahead, reduced to only a hundred shivering survivors amidst the icy wasteland.

Lothar stood atop a cliff, gazing down at the scene with calm detachment.

"Frost Giants of Jotunheim... Dark Elves of Svartalfheim... and that one...!"

As her eyes scanned the battlefield below, Hela's expression darkened at a familiar figure.

"A warrior of Vanaheim!"

"Impossible!"

"Oh? Why not?" Lothar quirked an eyebrow, amused by her reaction.

Hela shot him a glance but offered no answer. Lothar didn't seem to mind. His eyes returned to the chilling scene below.

It seemed the recent slaughter had left the surviving villagers paralyzed with fear. Each face was a mask of horror.

The commander of the joint task force—a Dark Elf with a shadowy gaze—stepped forward to speak, but froze as an overwhelming sense of danger brushed against his skin.

"Who's there?!"

Whether it was Hela, Lothar, or The Other—his shout gave away the trio's position on the cliff instantly.

"Finally noticed us? Took you long enough."

Lothar tilted his head, easily dodging a javelin hurled by the Dark Elf. The sneer on his face deepened the elf's scowl.

"Hela, daughter of Odin... So, Odin has realized something's wrong here."

Recognizing Hela, the Dark Elf wasted no time. He slammed a hand onto his signal device. The joint allied troops began converging at the village gates, forming up for a full-scale assault.

It was going to be a warzone.

"Lord Lothar, scan complete. The First Vanguard Battalion of the Nine Realms Coalition Force: 1,024 soldiers."

Woz scanned each of their identification tags with ease and relayed the report.

"xxxxxxxxxx! xxxxxxx!"

Suddenly, among the terrified villagers, a man surged forward, raising his arms toward Hela, whose Asgardian insignia marked her unmistakably.

His veins bulged in rage as he shouted toward the cliff. A heartbeat later—he was riddled with bullets.

"Woz."

Lothar didn't speak the language of planet C-53, so he simply let Woz handle the translation.

"It's a trap. Run... while you still can."

The Other burst out laughing at Woz's flat, robotic tone. It was the first time he'd heard Woz translate.

"Don't let them escape!"

"Everyone, open fire!"

The Dark Elf, having transmitted word of Hela's arrival, gave the order. A thousand guns fired in unison, bullets roaring toward the three figures on the cliff, determined to obliterate them.

But not a single shot landed.

Every projectile was intercepted and neutralized—by Hela alone, manifesting an endless arsenal of weapons in a shimmering, lethal wall.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!!

Explosions rocked the mountainside. The remaining villagers trembled, paralyzed by the sheer destructive power on display. Standing above it all, Lothar narrowed his eyes. Fury gleamed beneath his golden lashes.

They dared... to aim their weapons at him?

"Woz. How long until our ship arrives?"

"LOrd Lothar, Ebony Maw's fleet will reach C-53's orbit in 35 minutes."

"Still that long, huh?"

A pulse of energy flared beneath his feet. Lothar's golden hair whipped wildly in the wind, white cloak billowing like a battle flag.

"Lothar, stop! This is Asgard's war—it has nothing to do with you!"

Floating in midair, Hela didn't even turn her head as she snapped her warning.

"I don't like being threatened with guns."

"So they die." As Lothar spoke, he stepped off the edge of the cliff.

Sunlight caught his golden hair, igniting it in a blaze of brilliance.

A silver-white beam, followed by an endless torrent of weapons, rained down upon the battlefield.

In a single instant—

The entire First Vanguard Battalion of the Nine Realms Coalition—1,024 soldiers—was annihilated.

The remaining villagers stood in stunned silence.

They raised their heads in awe at the divine figures descending like avatars of salvation.

The man—tall, regal, and cold-eyed. Clad in white, his golden hair radiated like a halo under the sun.

The woman—bold and fierce, with a piercing beauty. Her dark hair danced wildly in the arctic winds, armor clinging tight to her lithe frame.

"Are you... our saviors?"

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