"A savior? As expected of the weak, who only know how to await salvation." Beckett, floating in mid-air, scoffed upon hearing this, his face filled with arrogance and disdain.
"What, you think you're great for saving them? So you can stand here and spew nonsense?" Hela, standing beside him, watched with cold eyes.
"They are weak, but that doesn't mean they haven't tried to resist. The blood on the ground is proof."
"Look at the corpses of those villagers who resisted. Ask yourself, if one day you lost the power you are so proud of now, could you achieve what they did?"
"I bet you can't, because your arrogance and rudeness are bone-deep. If you lose your current power one day, I bet you'll die because of that mouth of yours, with your enemies chopping off your hands and head the very first moment."
Looking down at the villagers below, who should have been protected by the Asgardian camp, Hela landed in front of them without looking back, leaving Beckett alone in mid-air. Hela's last words echoed in his ears: "But then again, you are the Son of Titan, high and mighty. How could you understand what it means to 'protect,' because you have nothing to protect."
You're just a war machine that only knows how to kill.
Hela didn't say the last sentence aloud. Based on her limited understanding of Beckett, saying it would inevitably lead to a major battle. At a time when the situation in Midgard was still unclear, Hela saw no need to get entangled with a man who traded intelligence for combat power.
At this moment, Hela, who was filled with love for everything under Asgard's rule, received the gratitude of over a hundred survivors in her capacity as the Asgardian Princess. The persistent survivors prostrated themselves before her one by one.
Of course, the object of their worship also included Beckett, who remained expressionless, still floating in mid-air.
Protect?
Beckett closed his eyes, and the thoughts churning in his mind instantly transported him back to the years when he felt most powerless.
Himself, crying and weakly hitting the protective shield in the escape pod, and his mother, tearfully waving goodbye from outside the escape pod.
Beckett hated himself as an infant, because he was weak then.
And weakness is sin.
Just like his past self, and just like the hundred-plus survivors at his feet.
Opening his eyes, his experiences growing up in the Dark Order helped Beckett suppress the swirling thoughts in his heart. He turned his head and saw The Other, holding the Azure Scepter, looking at him with concern. "His Highness Beckett?"
"What is it?"
"No, nothing." Seeing Beckett open his eyes, The Other shook his head like a rattle drum.
"His Highness Beckett, your power level fluctuated extremely violently for some reason just now, but it has now returned to normal."
"Also, according to Woz's estimate, the extremely mysterious cosmic power that Astra transferred into your body will completely dissipate in forty minutes."
"At that time, you will lose this power-amplified form." Woz, who was constantly monitoring Beckett's physical condition, reminded him diligently.
"Forty minutes from now, I understand."
Beckett landed on the ground, his white robe, dancing in the wind, still dusted with frost and snow on his bright silver boots. The survivors, who were constantly paying attention to Beckett's movements, had already sent their leader to Beckett's front. They bowed respectfully and thanked him in person.
"Send the location coordinates here to Ebony Maw and have him land nearby."
Beckett felt nothing as he looked at the continuous stream of thanks on the translation panel, but The Other behind him suddenly widened his eyes, feeling that his position as Beckett's number one loyal subordinate was in jeopardy.
He had been by His Highness Beckett's side for some time. Apart from Ebony Maw, who was constantly flattering Thanos, The Other had never seen anyone sing praises louder than himself.
But the leader of these survivors had achieved it.
Terms like "Savior," "Golden Flash," and "Legendary God" – a series of exaggerated adjectives had truly helped The Other enrich his vocabulary. The Other felt that his congratulatory speeches for His Highness Beckett could be even longer from now on.
Moreover, in The Other's opinion, this wasn't even the most outrageous flattery. In his view, the most outrageous was:
We want to build a statue for you, and we want our future generations to learn of your divine might through this statue...
What is professionalism?
This is professionalism!
The Other, who considered himself the foremost minister under His Highness Beckett, with a status akin to Ebony Maw's to Thanos, felt a sense of panic for the first time in his life.
What if His Highness Beckett enjoyed the flattery and decided to keep this man by his side?
Learn! I must learn!
With the mindset of learning, The Other, holding the Azure Scepter, prepared to get acquainted with this survivor leader who had received Beckett's approval. However, he immediately got stuck at the language communication stage.
He spoke in a language the Midgardians couldn't understand, and the Midgardians spoke in a language he couldn't understand. The two looked at each other, communicating solely through gestures and body language.
"When will your people arrive?"
Seeing The Other and the survivors getting into a commotion with their gestures, Hela strolled over to Beckett, who was leaning against a tree stump with his arms crossed, and gazed into the distance.
"Soon."
Beckett, staring at the sky, replied coldly without turning his head.
The scene instantly fell silent.
The Other's animated interaction with the Midgardian survivors contrasted sharply with the world separating Beckett and Hela.
One was fiery, the other icy.
Thirty minutes later, the army Beckett had mentioned as "soon" had not yet arrived. Instead, a dense coalition army from the Nine Realms had gathered densely at the village entrance, causing panic among the survivors.
"Even the Elves, who are known for their neutrality, have come out. Father was right, the Nine Realms really need to be properly managed."
Hela, standing on a tree branch, scanned the Nine Realms coalition army surrounding the village entrance from above, her eyes gradually turning cold.
Among the Nine Realms, apart from the Dwarves, civilizations with significant combat power were now all standing against Asgard, or rather, Odin.
Whether it was Vanaheim, the birthplace of the Queen of the Gods Frigga, or the Elves, who claimed to be indifferent to worldly affairs and only wished to chop wood, feed horses, and farm.
"Daughter of Odin! Son of Thanos! You have been surrounded by us!"
The voice that shook the heavens caused Beckett, who was lounging on a tree stump, to pick at his ear, a cold smile curling his lips.
"Finally here? Who is surrounding whom is not yet decided." Standing up, Beckett's figure gradually ascended.
The survivors on the ground looked up. Beckett snapped his fingers with his raised right hand, the crisp sound echoing through the clouds!
Dense formations of warships appeared behind Beckett, their dark cannons all aimed at the vanguard of the united Nine Realms army on the ground, energy surging.
"????!!!!!!"
"Impossible?!!! When?!!!"
The expressions of the several leaders of the Nine Realms united army's vanguard suddenly turned incredibly grim.
"You really never rest, do you, Beckett."
Ebony Maw, one of Thanos's Black Order, and The Other's idol, floated out from the warship formations, descending beside Beckett with a look of helplessness...
"Those who want to kill me, of course, I will kill them back." Beckett said with a cold laugh, but for some reason, his gaze swept over Hela, who stood alone directly opposite him...
Laufey, the Frost Giant King, and Hela, the daughter of Odin, were the only two exceptions in Beckett's career so far.
Thanks to [WhyCan'tNicknamesRepeat], [Old Cat at Home], and [Dragon] for their tips~
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Translation by: randomtranslator.com
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