Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 42

Chapter 42: The Final Spar

“The Nine Realms are a singular, interconnected whole, their foundations woven together by the roots of Irminsul, a branch of the World Tree Yggdrasil itself,” Mavuika began, her voice calm yet resonant with immense power. “Because of this connection, I have conceived of a method—a way to allow the principles of the Resurrection Poem to truly take root in this universe and encompass all Nine Realms.”

“To do this,” Mavuika stated, her golden eyes meeting Hela’s, every word crystal clear, “I need you to go to Helheim.”

“That is the final dominion for the dead of the Nine Realms, the very nexus where the laws of death are most concentrated and absolute. I want you to journey there and wield your Death Divine Power as a divine chisel, to painstakingly carve the tenets of the Resurrection Poem, bit by bit, into the very bedrock of Helheim’s existence.”

Hela’s eyes widened, her mind reeling. *Carve rules… into the fundamental reality of an entire realm?* The sheer scale of such an undertaking was almost beyond understanding.

“Then,” Mavuika continued, her voice painting a vivid picture of cosmic engineering, “I will travel to Midgard, the center of the Nine Realms, where the trunk of Irminsul passes through.”

“I will ignite the Holy Fire in Midgard. My flames will serve as the ‘fuse,’ and the rules you etch into Helheim will become the ‘circuit.’ Together, they will form a conduit, allowing the laws of the Resurrection Poem to surge outwards, connecting and ultimately spreading across the entirety of the Nine Realms!”

Her expression grew more intense, filled with a vision of a future unburdened by finality. “When that day comes, every life within the Nine Realms that fights for Asgard, that exists to preserve cosmic order, will be sheltered by the Resurrection Poem. Death will no longer be the end, but merely the prelude to the next charge into battle.”

“Even when we face the true Gods of this universe, we will possess a definitive trump card: an eternal legion. A legion that never depletes, never breaks, and is perpetually reborn from the ashes of conflict, growing stronger with each nirvana!”

The study plunged into a profound silence.

Hela stood frozen, completely stunned by Mavuika’s plan—a plan so audacious it bordered on insanity. The Resurrection Poem blanketing all Nine Realms… a truly undying army… the sheer confidence to challenge celestial beings…

She drew a sharp, deep breath, forcing her racing heart to calm. The initial shock gave way to a familiar, cutting skepticism as she looked at Mavuika, her eyes narrowing.

“Sister…” Her voice was slightly hoarse. “An undertaking of this magnitude… it cannot be completed overnight. Carving new laws into the entirety of Helheim? That would take decades… perhaps even centuries!”

She stared fixedly into Mavuika’s golden eyes, a flicker of suspicion in her gaze. “You aren’t trying to… stall me with this, are you? Are you using this grand, impossible goal to ‘exile’ me to Helheim for hundreds of years, just so I can’t bring up the matter of expansion again?”

To Hela’s utter astonishment, Mavuika simply nodded.

“Yes.”

The admission was so frank, so devoid of any deceit, that all the scathing retorts and simmering anger Hela had prepared caught in her throat.

Mavuika looked at her younger sister’s dumbfounded expression, a bitter and helpless smile touching her lips. “Hela, Father’s reasoning is sound; Asgard needs a period of stability. But your conviction is also correct; Asgard must prepare for the dangers lurking in the future.”

She stepped forward, placing her hands gently on Hela’s shoulders.

“Therefore, this is the only compromise I could devise,” Mavuika’s voice was soft, yet carried an unshakable seriousness. “It satisfies your desire for a ‘great cause’ worthy of your ambition, and at the same time, it buys Asgard the precious time it needs to consolidate and heal.”

Mavuika’s candor left Hela speechless. She looked at her sister’s face, so close to her own, and gazed into those golden eyes, seeing nothing but undisguised sincerity, profound anticipation, and… a trace of exhaustion so deep it seemed etched into her very soul.

Hela’s resolve wavered.

She was undeniably tempted by Mavuika’s plan. What could be more exhilarating than shaping the fundamental laws of the cosmos with her own hands? What greater expression of her authority as the Goddess of Death could there be than forging a legion that was truly immortal?

But on the other hand… hundreds of years.

Accepting this mission meant leaving Asgard. It meant abandoning the familiar clamor of the battlefield, the bustling golden city, and even her sister and mother. It meant traveling alone to the cold, desolate, and lifeless world of Helheim, where only the silent shades of the dead wandered.

In that realm, there would be no victory cheers, no glory, and no blood-pumping battles to stir her spirit.

There would only be an endless, crushing silence, the tedious and repetitive work of carving, and a long, lonely confrontation with death itself.

Centuries of it.

The very thought sent a suffocating sense of resistance through her. She was a lioness born for the battlefield, not a serpent that could endure ages of hibernation in the dark.

More , she knew that changing Odin’s mind was now impossible. Her only chance would be to wage war against her own father and win—a prospect with only the slimmest chance of success.

The great hall was silent, the only sound the faint, intermittent hum of Mjolnir, mirroring the tempest of Hela’s inner struggle.

Finally, with a surge of frustrated resentment, she stomped her foot.

*CRACK!*

The polished stone floor beneath her boot fractured, spiderweb-like fissures spreading outwards from the point of impact.

Hela lifted her head, all the hesitation and conflict in her eyes replaced by a ruthless, near-absolute resolve. She abruptly raised Mjolnir, the head of the hammer aimed directly at Mavuika.

“I will help you!” Hela’s voice was firm, carrying the finality of a decision from which there was no retreat.

“But before that—”

She watched Mavuika’s expression turn solemn, a wild, almost crazed smile curling the corner of her lips.

“You and I are going to have a proper, satisfying fight!”

“Don’t you dare hold back, sister. I want you to use all of your current, true strength!” Hela’s eyes blazed with an intense fighting spirit, a fire that consumed all her confusion, unwillingness, anger, and anticipation, refining them into the purest desire for battle.

“Let me see just how far you’ve come! Let me witness the chasm that has grown between us! Let me confirm for myself if the sister I’m about to dedicate centuries of my life to assisting is truly… worthy of such a sacrifice from me, Hela Odinson!”

Her words instantly charged the air in the study, making it thick and heavy with tension.

Mavuika looked at her younger sister, who was practically boiling with battle lust. She saw the complex emotions swirling in those emerald eyes—a challenge, a test, and in a way, a final farewell…

After a long moment, she took a slow, deep breath.

Then, she also smiled.

It was a warm and brilliant smile, like sunlight piercing through storm clouds, carrying with it a profound sense of relief, even… a sense of unburdening.

“Of course. No problem,” Mavuika said softly, as golden-red flames, like a waking dragon, began to rise slowly from her body, coiling around her form.

“Where?”

“The grand training ground. The largest one.”

“When?”

“Now!”

The sisters’ gazes locked in mid-air. There was no hostility, no hatred—only the purest respect of one warrior for another, and a “conversation” between sisters conducted in the language they both understood best.

Hela shouldered Mjolnir, turned on her heel, and strode powerfully toward the door.

Mavuika watched her go, her own golden eyes reflecting her younger sister’s resolute and fiercely proud figure.

A decisive battle, one not about victory or defeat but about catharsis and verification, was about to begin.