Laufey's death did little to deter the Frost Giants.
Perhaps he had fallen too easily, so much so that his warriors didn't realize how dangerous the enemy before them truly was. Or maybe their brief taste of victory had made them unwilling to abandon their ambition of ruling the Nine Realms.
None of the Frost Giants surrounding Malrick made any move to retreat.
They glared at him with crimson eyes full of hatred.
"Midgardian, you killed our king. You must pay the price!" a towering Frost Giant roared.
The others joined in, voices rising in a storm of rage. The fury spread like wildfire, and soon all of them fixed their wrath on Malrick.
Weapons tightened in their hands. They were ready for blood, waiting for someone to strike first so they could tear him apart.
Malrick twirled the Casket of Ancient Winters in his palm, not even bothering to raise his head. His voice was calm, almost bored.
"You'd better think this through. If you move against me, Jotunheim will suffer devastation for decades to come."
His words gave a few of the giants pause, but hesitation quickly gave way to anger.
A warrior bellowed about vengeance and charged forward, weapon swinging.
That single reckless act ignited the frenzy.
Tens of thousands of Frost Giants surged like a tidal wave toward Malrick.
Against a normal army, no man could have survived such a charge. Each giant's strike would have been enough to cut a mortal into pieces.
But they weren't facing a mortal. They were facing a Skyfather-level power.
Malrick simply raised his right hand, fingers curling shut.
Space itself rippled.
In an instant, violent distortions tore through the battlefield. Dozens, then hundreds, then tens of thousands of small black holes appeared all at once, swallowing the rushing giants before vanishing as quickly as they came.
The ice plains smoothed over again, eerily calm, as if nothing had happened.
But the horde was gone. Every giant who had charged was shredded by the crushing pull of gravity, their bodies scattered into nothingness.
It was a simple use of spatial manipulation.
In the movies, Thanos had used the Space Stone to attack Doctor Strange in much the same way, though Strange had managed to block it with the Ancient One's teachings. The Frost Giants, however, had no such protection.
The battlefield fell silent.
Only a few scattered Frost Giants remained, those who had hesitated and not joined the attack. Malrick let them live.
One moment they had tried desperately to stop their kin from being reckless. The next, every one of their companions was gone.
A bitter wind cut across the icy wasteland. Even warriors born in this frozen land shuddered with dread.
The thought was unanimous: Monster. The one who killed King Laufey is a monster.
The survivors trembled, paralyzed with fear.
Malrick finally pointed toward the distant Bifrost Bridge terminal. "Go. Wait there. Odin will decide your fate."
They needed no further urging. The Frost Giants scattered like frightened animals, stumbling and crawling over one another in their rush to escape.
It's over. Jotunheim is finished. That was the only thought in their minds.
Malrick arched a brow and tucked the Casket of Ancient Winters away into his personal realm. "Odin's going to be ecstatic. Even the aftermath has been tied up neatly for him."
Though he didn't know how Odin would choose to manage the two princes after this, Malrick was sure Asgard would still need a show of strength to settle unrest across the Nine Realms. After all, many Asgardian warriors had died in this war.
Even with Laufey gone, the damage remained real. Rebellions were inevitable.
But now? After he had wiped out tens of thousands of Frost Giants in a single move? Any plotters across the Nine Realms would think twice.
Then again… maybe they'll try contacting Kamar-Taj, hoping I'd join them in rebellion. If that happens, it might be the perfect time to open a magic academy. Imagine the talent I could recruit from the Nine Realms.
His mind drifted for a moment, but he quickly refocused.
Malrick rose into the air, eyes glowing red as Heat Vision flared to life.
This time, his target wasn't an enemy, but the frozen ocean and the Asgardian soldiers trapped beneath the ice.
Scarlet beams swept across the battlefield, controlled carefully to melt but not burn. The vast glaciers softened, steam rising as water churned beneath.
In less than two minutes, Asgard's ocean roared once more, freed from its icy prison.
A dark figure emerged from Malrick's realm—a Black Light Clone. It sprouted countless writhing tendrils that plunged into the waters, dragging frozen warriors to safety.
Malrick didn't waste the chance to gather valuable genetic samples. Even Odin and Thor weren't spared, each pricked by a tendril for a drop of blood.
Odin, just thawed and feigning weakness, noticed. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't resist. Pale and trembling, he remained in character as a dying old man.
"Father! Father!" Thor rushed forward the moment he was freed, gratitude overflowing as he stumbled to Odin's side.
Other Asgardian survivors carried Odin to the shore, placing him beneath the sunlight.
Malrick crossed his arms, silently watching. He noted their efficiency with faint amusement.
Asgardian funerals mirrored Earth's Viking traditions. The dead were placed on wooden boats, surrounded by their weapons and treasures, and set adrift before being set aflame—an end that preserved their honor and glory.
Looking at Odin, Malrick mused: if the old man really died here, these warriors already had him in place for a perfect farewell. A one-stop service.
But Odin wasn't truly at death's door. His frailty was nothing more than an act. If he had truly wanted to, even Laufey with the Casket couldn't have finished him. At worst, Odin's aging body might have buckled a little early, sending him to Valhalla a few years ahead of schedule.
When Frigga arrived with Loki at her side, Odin finally cracked his eyes open.
His gaze was dim, lids heavy, as though summoning the strength to look at his children was already too much.
"Father, you're awake!" Thor exclaimed, relief spilling over as tears and snot ran freely. "I knew you wouldn't die! You're Odin!"
"Father…" Loki crouched down beside him, eyes shifting with emotion. There were so many questions burning in his mind, but now was not the moment.
Odin gave him the chance soon enough.
"Children… my children…" he whispered, weakly extending both hands.
Thor moved quickly to the other side. He and Loki each grasped one of his father's hands, holding them tight.
"Father, don't speak. We'll take you back to the palace for treatment immediately," Thor said, voice shaking.
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