After consuming the Spirit of Flora, Luo Feng's strength surged to terrifying new heights. His martial cultivation had broken through into the realm of a High God of War, while his psychic power soared to the very peak of that level. At this point, Luo Feng's combat ability was comparable to the legendary Invincible God of War.
Even someone as dangerous as Li Yao or the illusionist Cattelan was utterly crushed before this new might.
At the critical moment, however, Senator Farr of the HR Alliance had arrived, saving Li Yao's life. Yet even Farr, with all his influence and power, could do nothing against Luo Feng's speed and overwhelming psychic dominance. Luo Feng moved like a storm across the sky, too swift to catch, too overwhelming to resist.
In the end, Luo Feng not only seized numerous Spirit of Flora treasures but also welcomed reinforcements from the Extreme Martial Hall. Li Yao's face had gone pale with fury, but there was nothing he could do.
Rowan, meanwhile, paid no attention to Mist Island or the conflicts brewing there.
He was focused elsewhere deep within the Marvel Universe.
Rowan had orchestrated an assault by Captain Marvel, Carol Danvers, upon the world of Titan itself. Against Carol's living weapon of a body, even Thanos's most trusted generals Ebony Maw, Proxima Midnight, and the rest were helpless. Carol had carved through Titan like a meteor made flesh, shattering its defenses, leveling fortresses, and tearing apart legions of soldiers with her blazing fists and photon energy.
And yet, even as Titan crumbled around her, Thanos never revealed himself.
Carol pushed harder, striking base after base, smashing through fleet strongholds, dismantling entire armies in a series of relentless campaigns. Still, Thanos remained a shadow, watching but never stepping forward.
"Surely Thanos isn't so cowardly," Rowan muttered, watching through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s latest relay feeds from Xandar. His brows drew tight as Carol fought like a goddess of war. "One Captain Marvel can't possibly frighten him into hiding."
No, Rowan reasoned. Thanos was patient, calculating. He must be preparing something. Carol might have the strength of a planetary powerhouse, but she wasn't yet enough to drive the Mad Titan into despair.
It was fortunate Rowan hadn't taken the field himself. If Thanos truly had some hidden card to play, Carol would draw the fire first. From her fate, Rowan could glean the truth.
For weeks, Carol burned her way across the Black Order's armies. Legions built by Thanos's iron will crumbled in her wake, while Ebony Maw and his peers hid like frightened turtles, refusing to face her again.
The silence stretched on for half a month.
Then one day, when Rowan attempted to contact Carol, her signal went dead.
A burst of static crackled through his communicator. A single fragment of video played.
Carol was bound by countless black, shadowy tendrils, writhing like chains forged from darkness itself. Before her stood Thanos, his eyes glinting with merciless calm. In his grip was a massive obsidian blade shaped like a jagged cross. Without hesitation, he drove the black sword through Carol's chest. Her light vanished. The screen cut to black.
Rowan's heart jolted.
Carol dead?
The thought rattled him. He had never imagined Thanos would strike so suddenly, nor that his first appearance would bring about Captain Marvel's death. Carol's strength was nothing trivial; at least the high planetary tier. For Thanos to kill her so cleanly meant only one thing: his power had already climbed to the planetary peak, perhaps even breaching into stellar might.
And that sword.
That black blade.
"Could it be… the Black Death Sword?" Rowan whispered.
The weapon was not Thanos's usual choice, which made its sudden appearance all the more alarming. The most infamous black blade in the Marvel cosmos was none other than the Necrosword the weapon of the God Butcher Gorr in the legends of Thor: Love and Thunder.
But why was it in Thanos's hands, rather than Gorr's?
Questions swirled in Rowan's mind.
The Necrosword was no ordinary relic. It granted its wielder an immortal body, impossible to kill unless the blade itself was destroyed. Any injury suffered could be undone, flesh and bone restored as long as the sword remained intact.
Worse still, its power grew with slaughter. The more gods slain by its edge, the stronger its master became. Given time and blood, Thanos could ascend from planetary peak to cosmic, even to the level of domain lords.
And the shadows. Rowan recalled the video of Carol's death the black monsters binding her were no natural soldiers. They were manifestations of the Necrosword's true gift: the ability to weave shadow into armies, birthing endless horrors to swarm across battlefields.
"This is a disaster," Rowan breathed.
Thanos wielding the Necrosword was far more terrifying than Gorr ever had been. His discipline, his genius for strategy, his inexhaustible armies combined with the weapon's corrupting power would make him unstoppable.
Rowan's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.
"I cannot allow him to grow unchecked."
A vortex shimmered into existence before him. With a single step, Rowan vanished, reappearing in the gleaming golden halls of Asgard.
"I'll wait here," he murmured, lips curling into a wry smile. "The wolf comes to the fold soon enough."
With the Necrosword, Thanos would hunger for divine blood. And where was divinity most concentrated? The Omniversal Realm, or Asgard. The first was too well-guarded, its gods led by Zeus himself, a titan among titans. Thanos would not risk it not yet. That left Asgard, weakened after Odin's death, ruled by Hela, vulnerable and ripe for slaughter.
Asgard was also a gateway. Its Bifrost could ferry Thanos across the Nine Realms, granting him swift access to countless worlds of gods.
Rowan cloaked his presence and hid within one of Asgard's empty buildings, quietly meditating. His strength had already risen to the stellar level. With Hela only recently freed from her seals, she was still far from her peak. She would never sense him.
Time passed. A month slipped by.
During that span, Thanos ravaged seven or eight worlds, each with its own guardian deity. Weak gods fell screaming, their divine blood feeding the Necrosword. Though the gains were small, the growth was undeniable.
Then one day, Rowan's meditations were interrupted.
A grand, circular ship broke through Asgard's skies, gleaming with alien design. He swept it with his psychic senses. Thor was inside, alongside a Valkyrie. The God of Thunder had escaped from Sakaar at last. His aura was changed, awakened now standing at the planetary tier.
Hela, sensing him, turned her wrath away from Asgard's people. Their clash shook the throne room. Not long after, Loki arrived, leading Sakaar's gladiators in rebellion. Chaos consumed Asgard.
And then it came.
A massive fortress-ship, obsidian and endless, darkened the heavens above.
Rowan smiled faintly.
The Mad Titan had arrived.
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