Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 37

Chapter 37: Hela’s Frustration

“Sister, don’t you think… it’s too peaceful?” After a grueling sparring session, Hela wiped the sweat from her brow, her voice cutting through the quiet of the training grounds.

Mavuika slowly retracted the blazing corona of her `Sun-Blaze of a Thousand Suns`, its light fading back into her being. She looked at her younger sister, whose eyes still burned with an unspent battle-fire. “Is peace not a worthy goal? The people need to recuperate, the Nine Realms require a stable order to be consolidated, and we… we also need this time to settle.”

“Settle?” Hela sneered, the sound sharp and dismissive. “I feel nothing but the creeping touch of rust. Sister, look outside!”

She pointed a gauntleted finger toward the window, beyond which the sounds of a grand celebration echoed through the golden city. “What are they celebrating? The end of conquest? The fact that they can now grow fat and sleep soundly on their laurels? Asgard’s glory should not be a stagnant monument gathering dust! It should be a burning beacon, a roaring bonfire that illuminates the farthest, darkest corners of the cosmos!”

Mavuika was silent for a moment, her gaze softening. “Hela, war is not the goal. We fight precisely so that peaceful celebrations like this can continue.”

“But what if peace itself becomes a shackle?” Hela countered, her dark green eyes blazing with a restless, almost desperate flame. “What happens when the descendants of Asgard can only find passion in the sung epics of their ancestors? When they waste their strength in repetitive festivals? Sister, the universe is vast beyond imagining, and the Nine Realms are but a single, sheltered corner of it. There are countless worlds out there waiting for us to explore, to conquer, and to spread the glory of Asgard into the deeper darkness!”

The sisters stared at each other, the air thick with their unspoken conflict. This time, neither spoke again. In the cradle of hard-won peace, a rift in their philosophies had quietly begun to grow.

***

After the last of the celebrations concluded, Asgard transitioned into a period of orderly development. Mavuika dedicated more of her energy to internal affairs, assisting Odin in perfecting the Nine Realms Code, mediating complex trade disputes between the realms, and promoting the exchange of knowledge and technology.

The days were calm and deeply fulfilling. At least, they were for Mavuika.

But for Hela, these past six months felt like an eternity.

Every dawn brought the same soul-crushing routine: stacks of administrative reports detailing crop yields and trade tariffs. The sections she was assigned grew smaller and smaller; her methods were always deemed too “efficient”—a polite word for ruthless—leaving no room for diplomacy or maneuvering. The warriors in the training grounds were no longer challenges; they were obstacles to be brushed aside, making it difficult to even break a sweat. Sparring with her sister had gradually devolved into a choreographed dance, a delicate routine where both tacitly reined in their true power, terrified of shattering the fragile, suffocating balance of this newfound peace.

She felt her bones itching for the strain of real combat. Every cell in her body screamed with the desire for battle, for the raw thrill of conquest, for the unparalleled sensation of trampling powerful enemies underfoot and claiming new worlds for their empire.

Asgard’s peace was like a thick layer of grease, clinging to her, smothering her, suffocating the warrior within.

Finally, on another unremarkable morning, Hela could no longer contain her seething impatience.

She strode toward Odin’s council chamber, her silver-black ponytail swinging like a whip behind her, the plates of her dark green armor clanking with each purposeful step. The royal guards outside the chamber doors moved to salute and announce her, but she swept past them with a dismissive gesture, pushing the heavy doors open herself.

“Father! We have rested long enough, have we not? When will the next conquest begin?”

Her voice, filled with an irrepressible, almost desperate excitement, cracked through the solemn atmosphere of the spacious council chamber.

Inside, Odin was discussing the finer details of the Jotunheim treaty with Mavuika. Hearing Hela’s demanding entrance, the All-Father looked up, his one good eye calmly observing his impetuous second daughter. Then, slowly and firmly, he shook his head.

The eager smile on Hela’s face froze, shattering like thin ice. She stood poised in the doorway, her hands gripping the ornate doorframe so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“Father…” Her voice dropped, now laced with a dangerous mix of confusion and suppressed fury. “What does that mean?”

Odin did not answer immediately. He set down the star-map scroll in his hand and leaned back against his throne, his gaze shifting slowly between his eldest and second daughters. Mavuika stood quietly to the side, holding a crystal tablet used for recording minutes. There was no surprise on her face, only a knowing, somber calm. She seemed to have anticipated this day would come.

Hela, in stark contrast, was like a caged leopard. Every muscle in her body was tensed, her every glare and every breath radiating pure aggression as she waited for her father’s explanation.

Odin remained silent for a long time. The only sounds in the grand hall were the crackling of firewood in the hearth and, drifting faintly from the gardens outside, the distant laughter of Thor and Loki at play.

Finally, Odin spoke, his voice low and slow, as if every word carried the weight of a millennium. “Hela, you have come at a good time. There are some things… it is time I told you both.”

Hela frowned, about to press for an answer, but a sharp look from Mavuika stopped her. The elder sister shook her head almost imperceptibly, a clear signal for Hela to calm herself and listen to their father.

Odin gave Mavuika an approving glance. Though his second daughter, Hela, was equally brilliant, her temperament… it was still far too impatient.

“First,” Odin paused, carefully weighing his words, “Asgard… is not prepared to continue its external conquests.”

“What?!” Hela nearly lunged forward, her face instantly turning livid. She took a step into the hall, her voice rising to a sharp cry. “Father! The Nine Realms are unified, the Asgardian army’s morale is at its peak, my Death Guard is sharpening their blades, and sister’s power alone is enough to awe the stars! Now is the perfect time to expand our territory and push the glory of Asgard to the entire universe! How can you—”

“Hela,” Mavuika interrupted softly, yet her tone carried an unquestionable authority that cut through her sister’s tirade. “Listen to Father finish.”

Hela’s chest heaved violently. Dark green wisps of Death Divine Power uncontrollably spilled from her body, coalescing into a small, corrosive shadow at her feet. She stared fixedly at Odin, finally gritting her teeth and taking half a step back, but the fire in her eyes did not diminish in the slightest.

Odin did not seem to mind his daughter’s outburst. He appeared lost in some distant memory, his gaze growing deep, as if piercing through the veil of time and space to witness scenes from long ago and far away.

“Although the Nine Realms have been unified,” he said slowly, his voice now tinged with a profound weariness, “it does not mean… they are completely stable.” He looked at his two daughters, his focus landing on Hela. “Do you truly believe that by conquering the Frost Giants, subjugating the Fire Giants, and defeating the Dark Elves, Asgard can rest easy? That we can now wantonly cast our gaze toward the farther stars?”

Hela did not reply, but her defiant expression was answer enough: *Isn’t that exactly what it means?*

Odin let out a bitter smile, a smile that held a heaviness Hela had never seen before—one that was almost painful. “Then, let me tell you something. Something… that happened a very long time ago. So long ago that neither of you were even born yet.”

He rose from the throne and walked to the immense star-window, turning his back to his daughters to look out at the eternal, cloudless sky of Asgard.

“Back then, I was much like you are now, Hela. Young, confident, and… far, far more arrogant,” Odin’s voice was quiet, as if he were speaking only to himself. “I firmly believed that Asgard was the center of the universe, that its glory was destined to shine upon all realms. I led the Asgardian fleets, conquered every enemy who dared to challenge us, and expanded the territory of the Nine Realms to its absolute limits. I felt omnipotent. I felt that the entire world was trembling under my will.”