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Chapter 51 - Chapter 51: Establishing an Alien Language Course—Now That’s Respect

Thor's return was undoubtedly a morale booster.

Apart from Loki, whose expression remained stiff, everyone else gathered around Thor, patting him on the shoulder, grabbing his arm, and eagerly inquiring about his well-being.

"Thor, you still haven't regained your divine power. But these fine warriors you brought—what kind of race are they? I've never heard of them before!"

"Hmm, just from their appearance alone, this species possesses a certain deadly elegance."

"Indeed, I get the same impression. They seem like they were born purely for battle."

Everyone present had at least several centuries of combat experience and had encountered countless creatures from planets across the Nine Realms.

Furthermore, Asgard's library contained vast records of civilizations beyond the Nine Realms.

Yet, despite all that knowledge, not a single person in the hall could recognize these creatures.

And why were they following Thor?

"These are Xenomorphs, allies I brought from Midgard!" Thor announced excitedly.

Midgardian reinforcements?

Everyone exchanged glances.

They knew Midgard had strong individuals, but as a world of mere mortals, it was often overlooked.

"Look at these creatures—their elongated heads suggest strong defenses, their towering builds indicate prowess in combat."

The burliest among them, Volstagg, immediately grew excited. He enjoyed dealing with formidable warriors, especially during times of war.

Hogun, one of the Warriors Three, wasted no time. Gripping his hammer, he tested the strength of one of the more imposing Xenomorphs.

Swish!

He swung his hammer.

In an instant, the seemingly motionless Xenomorph reacted, catching the hammer with one hand. At the same time, its razor-sharp tail lashed out.

Hogun's expression flickered with surprise. He freed a hand to catch the tail from the side.

But the next moment, at such close range, the Xenomorph opened its mouth—revealing an inner jaw that shot out at terrifying speed, a sight horrifying to anyone seeing it for the first time.

Hogun countered with a backhanded strike, forcing the Xenomorph to retreat.

"What immense strength… and such a bizarre combat style. Every part of its body seems designed for battle!"

Hogun was full of praise.

With his strength, he could have defeated the Xenomorph one-on-one in a short time, but that wasn't the issue—look at how many there were!

"Are they your followers, Thor?" Fandral asked, stroking his mustache with intrigue.

"They are not my followers," Thor corrected. "The Xenomorphs all serve a man from Midgard. He has even lifted Mjolnir—he is the new God of Thunder."

Thor spoke in an even tone, having already accepted this reality.

But his words sent shockwaves through the palace.

"A Midgardian… lifted Mjolnir?!"

"A new God of Thunder? Thor, are you joking?"

"If that's true, it's unbelievable. And this person even commands such a fearsome army?"

Countless gazes shifted to the Xenomorphs.

Everyone present had sharp instincts. Though some felt discontent over Thor losing Mjolnir, they also acknowledged his growth and the strategic advantage his new allies provided.

They could see it—Thor, despite losing his divine power, had become much more composed, as if tempered by great trials.

Only Loki knew the truth: Thor had been beaten down so severely that he had no choice but to adopt this newfound calm.

Loki's expression stiffened. He even regretted not bringing Gungnir and the Destroyer Armor with him to Midgard to kill Duncan when he had the chance.

Midgard had turned out to be far more unpredictable than he had expected. It harbored numerous powerful individuals—and now, there was even a man who had claimed Mjolnir.

This unsettled Loki deeply.

Odin was in deep sleep, and Frigga, whom Loki had persuaded, was staying by Odin's side and wouldn't act rashly.

If Loki took a reckless gamble and lost both Gungnir and the Destroyer Armor in Midgard, what then?

He had to change his plans—to take a more calculated approach: inciting war between the two realms.

"Loki, I bring you a powerful army! You should recognize the Xenomorphs—"

Before Thor could finish, Loki interrupted him urgently, "I haven't seen Heimdall. The Bifrost was never closed! How many of these creatures have you brought?"

"There are about three thousand now, and soon, we'll have five thousand in total!" Thor's voice boomed with confidence, his old self returning.

Five thousand?!

"So many powerful warriors—five thousand of them?" Volstagg exclaimed. "Thor, you truly are remarkable, and your friend even more so, to be willing to send such an army! Is he a great king in Midgard?"

"His name is Duncan. And not all Xenomorphs are this powerful…"

Thor explained their different classifications but deliberately left out the gruesome details of their parasitic birth cycle.

Even so, five thousand, considering their combat prowess, was already an astonishing figure.

More importantly, this was a private army sent by a Midgardian!

From what Thor implied, their numbers could grow even further with time.

"I'm starting to want to meet this Duncan in person," someone mused. "He must be a generous and righteous leader. So, how should we thank him?"

"This isn't the time to discuss rewards," Thor said firmly. "We should focus on the war."

As time passed, more Xenomorphs arrived in Asgard through the Bifrost, standing silently outside the palace like an army of dark statues, radiating a terrifying killing intent.

Even the most critical observers could find no flaw in them.

They were powerful, disciplined, and vast in number.

Anyone who witnessed this sight was left speechless.

Even the ordinary soldiers, who had received orders not to attack, couldn't help but whisper among themselves, their eyes filled with awe.

Only a fool wouldn't realize that this unknown army was likely Asgard's reinforcements.

"Loki, my brother, you should announce this army's arrival to all of Asgard and share the good news with our people," Thor advised sincerely.

But Loki found his words unbearably grating—what was this? Thor giving orders to the king?

Ever since Thor returned, he had stolen all the attention.

No wonder. Asgard, a realm that valued valor and war, would never truly embrace a scheming ruler.

"My dear brother," Loki said with a forced smile, "you have truly given me a grand surprise… bringing such an army. But tell me, where is their master, Duncan?"

He was already contemplating how to eliminate Duncan on the battlefield.

Truthfully, Loki coveted the Xenomorphs himself. Who wouldn't want such a loyal and terrifying army? Their potential was immense—so long as they had high-quality hosts, even stronger Xenomorphs could be bred.

"He won't fight directly," Thor said solemnly. "He's staying in Midgard to command his forces. Loki, I know you two have history, but trust me, he is a good man."

"A good man?" Loki chuckled dryly. "That's the first time I've ever heard you describe someone as anything other than a warrior."

Thor, that foolish brother of his, had likely been deceived by Duncan and was even helping him count his spoils.

Under countless watchful eyes, Loki gripped Gungnir tightly and began inspecting the army.

As he walked among the Xenomorphs, a flicker of desire flashed in his eyes.

He was already considering how to make them his own.

Killing Duncan was one thing, but controlling the Xenomorphs was another. The two were not in conflict—after all, creatures like the Xenomorphs were truly remarkable.

"Sss!!"

A short, sharp cry was the only response Loki received.

"..."

Loki didn't understand a word.

The people who had originally prepared to cheer with raised hands, following the established ritual, suddenly found themselves at a loss.

Fandral stroked his mustache and analyzed the situation: "Their language system is completely different from ours, forming its own unique structure, much like the Colossus Flora Tribe of Planet X. I propose that we establish an academic discipline dedicated to this—let's call it Xenomorphic Linguistics."

As an elite of Asgard, one naturally received an extensive and rigorous education. For instance, Thor was fluent in the languages of many well-known interstellar civilizations.

"Well said! We must do this—it's a matter of respect for these warriors who have traveled across worlds to aid us! Every being who sheds blood for Asgard should be remembered forever!" Thor declared loudly.

And just like that, a new course of study was decided with only a few words.

Loki gazed at the silent Xenomorphs, his face devoid of expression.

Asgard's land could not withstand the extreme corrosiveness of their blood.

The war had erupted in full force.

The news of Odin's death sent unprecedented shockwaves across Asgard's vast dominion.

Even when Odin was alive, Thor had frequently led campaigns to suppress rebellions on various planets, leaving behind stationed Asgardian troops to maintain order.

But now that Odin was dead, chaos engulfed Asgard's territories, let alone the entire Nine Realms. The turmoil alone was enough to stretch Asgard's military forces thin.

Everyone assumed that Jotunheim would seize the opportunity to launch an aggressive offensive, expanding their conquests. Some even speculated that Laufey, the All-Father-level powerhouse, would personally lead an assault straight into Asgard's heartland.

But the outcome was unexpected—Asgard struck first.

Instead of retreating into a defensive stance, they mobilized their forces and escalated the war against Jotunheim.

Flames of battle ignited across multiple planets between Asgard and Jotunheim.

Asgard's bold and aggressive maneuvering left Jotunheim perplexed.

"Asgard should be drowning in fear and chaos, so why are they displaying even greater hostility? Could it be that my cunning offspring has deceived them to such an extent?"

To Laufey, this was difficult to comprehend.

If Odin was truly dead, then Hela remained sealed away, and the newly crowned Loki—his own son—was the very one who had invited him to invade Asgard.

With all these advantages stacked in his favor, how could Asgard possibly stand against him?

What? Thor? That overly sentimental fool wasn't even worth mentioning.

But then, Laufey noticed something strange—a bizarre species rampaging across the battlefield.

They were savage, relentless, and terrifyingly patient.

They could remain motionless for an eternity, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, sacrificing their own lives just to land a single attack.

Their streamlined bodies were built for combat, their natural exoskeletons as tough as the hardest armor.

Their acidic blood could corrode even the strongest alloys—an ability that proved highly lethal even to Frost Giants.

They were towering creatures, standing at least 2.5 meters tall.

They fought without fear, perfectly willing to perish alongside their foes, even if it meant wounding themselves just to spray their corrosive blood as a final attack.

They were disciplined, battle-hardened, and exhibited the composure of seasoned warriors.

And most concerning of all, there were thousands of them.

Each one was a natural-born killer, with an unparalleled instinct for war.

A species like this—Laufey had never encountered anything like them before!

"Where did this race come from?! Investigate! I need to know which world and which planet birthed them!"

Laufey frowned, gazing into the cosmic void toward Asgard's location.

Asgard had called for reinforcements. But who had dared to interfere in a war between two worlds?

Even more baffling was the behavior of these creatures—they seemed particularly interested in capturing prisoners.

They clearly had the power to kill Frost Giants outright, yet they would go to great lengths, risking greater casualties, just to take captives alive.

Every captured Frost Giant, once transported to Asgard, vanished without a trace.

Not a single one was ever seen again.

Even with his All-Father-level intellect, Laufey could not unravel the mystery.

Could Asgard be conducting genetic experiments?

But divine blood was naturally infused with divine power, making it almost impossible to decipher.

If cracking the secrets of divine blood were that simple, then the universe would already be overrun with cloned gods.

Unless… someone with unfathomable intellect had found a way to break the divine code.

"This war has only just begun, and already 429 Frost Giants have been killed or captured by these creatures."

Laufey used his vast divine senses to survey the battlefields across multiple planets.

Even though more than 1,500 Xenomorphs had perished, that only reinforced their terrifying power.

Because their opponents were Frost Giants—renowned divine warriors of the cosmos, wielders of advanced technology, ice magic, and bodies even mightier than the Aesir.

Yet despite their advantages, the Frost Giants' casualty rates were climbing at an alarming rate.

Because they were learning.

The Frost Giants were not fools—they were elites. They quickly adapted, studying the Xenomorphs' tactics, devising countermeasures, and implementing defensive strategies.

And if all else failed, they could always rely on their magic and technology.

But Laufey was not overly troubled by the Xenomorphs.

What truly irked him was the fact that a new species had dared to stand against Jotunheim, challenging his authority.

Just as Odin had once defeated Surtur, only for Muspelheim to later produce Surtur's daughter, the All-Father-level Queen, who led the Fire Giants in renewed defiance against Asgard.

Imperfections in what should have been a perfect plan were always frustrating.

Laufey turned his full attention to Asgard itself.

The All-Father, the greatest of all gods—Odin.

Had he really died so quietly, just as Loki claimed?

"Even if Odin and Loki have schemed together, this is still an opportunity worth seizing! A dying Asgard, even with Odin, must be at its weakest! For Odin to resort to trickery only proves his frailty and lack of confidence."

Killing Odin—wiping away the humiliation and fear Odin had inflicted upon him—would send a clear message to the Nine Realms!

Laufey slowly closed his eyes, patiently waiting.

The closer Jotunheim's army marched toward Asgard, the better he could gauge Odin's true condition.

As for that newly emerged species?

Well, it had certainly piqued his interest.

One look was all it took for Laufey to recognize that these creatures were born for war.

No All-Father with ambition would ever refuse an army like that.

Meanwhile, on Earth—

"Hmm, just as I expected. Before their evolution, Xenomorphs are still far from being a match for the gods, even in equal numbers."

Duncan observed the battlefield through his connection to the Xenomorphs, understanding the flow of war with absolute clarity.

"In that case, I need to send an even greater swarm to Asgard… I need more materials. Soon, I can use the finest Facehuggers to parasitize divine captives, continuously unraveling the mysteries of divine power… and then—"

A fiery gleam flashed in Duncan's eyes.

His ultimate goal in this war had never been a mere god or any particular pantheon.

His true target was the source of all divine power itself—

The World Tree.

...

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