The coastal port of Asgard was illuminated by fire that night.
The stars above were dim, nearly swallowed by the darkness, leaving only a faint sheen of light where the ocean met the horizon. Along the shore, every Asgardian stood in silence, torches raised high. The flames flickered, casting trembling light across solemn faces and reflecting quietly in their eyes.
Sorcerers from Kamar-Taj stood among them, also holding torches, their gazes fixed on Odin.
The All-Father had already boarded the vessel prepared for his sea burial.
It was a small boat, shaped like an ancient Viking longship, its prow and stern curving upward like the body of a sea serpent. It was only large enough for Odin to lie flat. Flowers were piled upon it, along with pieces of armor and ceremonial robes. Most of them belonged to companions who had once fought and ruled alongside him.
Traditionally, only Asgardians who fell in battle were granted such a farewell, their bodies set ablaze and sent drifting into the sea. When the flames consumed the vessel completely, the fallen warrior's soul would ascend to Valhalla and share eternal glory with their ancestors.
Odin, however, had neither fallen in battle nor truly died yet. He had chosen to lie upon the boat of his own will.
By all customs, he should not have been welcomed into Valhalla.
But Valhalla belonged to him, and he could enter it however he pleased.
A heavy sorrow hung over the shoreline. No one spoke. The grief and confusion in their eyes were unmistakable beneath the torchlight.
Queen Frigga held Thor and Loki close, one on each side, her composure barely intact. Even Loki showed unmasked sorrow. Though he had become widely known on Earth and even something of a celebrity, often mocking Thor and Odin through the roles he played, his heart had always belonged to Asgard.
No matter how well he lived on Earth, no matter how much attention he received, it was never his home.
Asgard was his world, its towering halls, its golden spires, and his family.
If Loki was grieving, Thor's pain was even more evident. The golden-haired prince stood rigid, tears welling in his eyes, wiping them away with his palm when he thought no one was looking. Unlike the Sacred Timeline, this Thor was experiencing the loss of a parent for the first time.
The sorrow was so overwhelming that even the sorcerers from Kamar-Taj were affected. Even Pietro, usually loud and restless, stood in silence.
Malrick alone remained composed.
He knew that once Odin passed, his existence in Valhalla would be freer and lighter. What he could not understand was why Odin had chosen this moment. In the Sacred Timeline, Odin was meant to pass away on Earth, in Norway, in 2017.
Yet here, after six years of slumber, Odin was preparing to depart in 2015.
And it was by choice.
Malrick studied the old figure seated on the boat. A strange thought crossed his mind. For a brief moment, Odin reminded him of a flamboyant ruler from another world, one who treated even death like a grand performance.
Inviting guests to his own funeral, asking them to gather and wait for him to die so they could see him off personally, it felt almost absurdly dramatic.
When Malrick first received the invitation, there had been a fleeting second where he thought Odin was demanding the return of certain divine artifacts. He had even imagined the old king marching to Earth himself if they were not returned.
But Odin was serious.
The old man sat hunched in his magnificent robes, gazing toward the distant sea as though engraving the final image of the world into his memory. Reluctance and sorrow clung to him like mist.
Anyone could see that he was ready to let the flames take him.
The crowd waited in silence. Some wept openly. Others mourned without sound.
After a long time, Odin shifted and turned his head.
"Mr. Malrick," he said gently, "could you come closer?"
His voice was calm and soft, nothing like the commanding tone of a God King. It sounded more like an aged sailor returning from his final voyage.
"Of course," Malrick replied.
Holding his torch, he walked slowly to the side of the boat.
He studied Odin's weathered face and considered his words. He did not say anything outrageous like promising to look after Frigga. Instead, he chose a different provocation.
"Old man, if you are planning to die because you feel ashamed for not reclaiming those divine artifacts, there is no need," Malrick said calmly. "I already used the Eternal Flame and the Casket of Ancient Winters. If you want them back, I can return them, but you never asked."
"Sure, we agreed on five years, and I borrowed them for six. That is on me. I forgot."
"But two artifacts are not worth dying over, Odin."
Odin's expression twitched.
For a moment, his composure cracked, his eyes narrowing as if he wanted to scold Malrick. His lips parted, then closed again. In the end, he restrained himself.
"The artifacts are irrelevant, Mr. Malrick," Odin said quietly, turning back to the sea.
"Then why are you rushing to Valhalla?" Malrick asked.
Odin sighed. "During my slumber, I learned that you recently resolved a Multiversal crisis and reached a level comparable to the Vishanti."
"That's right," Malrick said, nodding.
"Then you should understand better than I do," Odin continued, "that this world will soon face a crisis beyond imagination."
"I tempered Thor and gave Loki his choices, all in preparation for Ragnarok."
"But in the face of a far greater threat, what does Ragnarok even matter?"
Odin's voice remained steady. "Thor needs more growth. He needs greater power."
"Asgard no longer needs me. It needs a God King who can surpass me."
Malrick finally understood.
Odin was preparing to pass all of his remaining power to Thor.
"I see," Malrick said softly. "A wise decision."
Odin smiled faintly. "You do not need to return the two divine artifacts. Consider them Asgard's sincerest gift."
"And the royal treasury as well. Take anything you find useful."
Malrick laughed quietly. "What, do you think Asgard is doomed, so you are dividing the inheritance early?"
Odin's eyes flickered. "Long life teaches one thing very clearly. Sharing strength with allies is always the correct choice."
"Is that so?" Malrick shook his head. "Then the sharing came a bit late."
"Yes," Odin admitted without hesitation. "It is late. I should have bound Asgard to you the moment we first met."
He did not hide his regret. "The Ancient One was a better guardian than I ever was. Her vision surpassed mine."
"Heh," Malrick said with a grin. "She would probably disagree. She is still at the academy, reminding students of the new Wi-Fi password every day."
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100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter
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