Time passed swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, three months had gone by.

During these months, Rowan immersed himself in cultivation. His movement technique had broken through to the level of intent, while his blade technique lingered just a hair’s breadth away from the same breakthrough.

He had already mastered the fourth illustration of the Heavenly God Diagram.

Now, Rowan could control nine flying blades simultaneously, each one capable of striking with full force.

As for the Ninefold Thunder Blade, he had successfully advanced to the sixth level.

At this point, Rowan was without a doubt a warrior of unmatched might.

Moreover, with the aid of the Mind Stone, his spiritual force was showing faint signs of breaking through its long-standing bottleneck. The barrier that had once held him back now felt loose, though the final step remained elusive.

Over the past three months, Rowan often returned to City 001 to train the Serpent of the Sky.

After feeding it a measure of dragon blood, the mid-level lord beast had finally ascended into a high-level lord.

Its body now stretched to one hundred and twenty meters in length, with a flight speed that had reached an astonishing seven hundred and fifty meters per second.

Thanks to Rowan’s approach of alternating strictness with reward, coupled with his spiritual communication, the serpent had become far more obedient. Most of the time, it didn’t even need telepathic guidance to understand his commands.

“It’s about time I bring you to the Marvel world,” Rowan mused as he sat cross-legged atop the serpent’s head in the core district of City 001.

The serpent’s appearance was impressive, capable of thriving in water, on land, and in the skies alike.

When the day came to connect fully with the wider universe, Rowan was confident that with the right resources, he could cultivate this beast to the level of a star-class entity.

To have it serve as his family’s guardian beast in the Marvel world would be no small advantage.

“Come. Leave the city. Find somewhere secluded.”

Rowan patted the serpent, issuing his command.

The serpent let out a low hiss and beat its wings, soaring into the skies and leaving City 001 behind.

Half an hour later, it carried Rowan into the depths of a vast mountain range.

Snowlines clung to the peaks, pines and grasses blanketed the slopes. Sensing no surveillance satellites in this remote region, Rowan snapped his fingers. A vortex of space-time erupted, swallowing both him and the serpent whole.

The serpent shuddered with alarm, thrashing instinctively, but Rowan calmed it with a single pat. Sensing its master’s will, the beast grew still.

Moments later, the vortex consumed them entirely.

When they reappeared, the serpent’s massive body crashed down upon an island beach, flattening palms and brush in its wake.

This was the location Rowan had carefully selected beforehand, a lonely isle in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

“With the Space Stone, I no longer need to worry about the ring’s energy reserves.”

A glance at his ring revealed that transporting the serpent had consumed two stones’ worth of energy. But now, with the Space Stone, he could replenish the charge within mere breaths.

“Come. Let’s fly. I’ll show you around.”

Through his mind, Rowan explained to the serpent that this was a new world.

The beast didn’t seem unsettled. For it, so long as there was abundant prey, location was irrelevant.

And prey was hardly a concern. The oceans teemed with fish and whales aplenty, and Shuri could even concoct supplemental “energy blocks” from heart-shaped herb extract, Wakandan rhino meat, and other nutrients more delicious than monster flesh by far.

Obeying Rowan’s guidance, the serpent soared southward over the Atlantic.

His plan was to circle the ocean, marking hunting grounds, and eventually fly as far as the Drake Passage.

When they reached the coast of South America, Rowan let the serpent rest upon a deserted beach.

As he admired the untouched beauty of nature, his spiritual sense swept outward and caught something strange.

“A person?”

He turned sharply toward the shallows.

Within his mind’s perception, a humanoid figure lingered beneath the surface. Yet there were no traces of human activity for dozens of miles.

Soon, Rowan’s keen eyes spotted the head breaking the water.

The figure’s skin was blue, adorned with a shark skull headdress. A humanoid, yet distinctly alien.

The figure stared at the serpent in awe, eyes brimming with fear and reverence.

The words spilling from his mouth were guttural, rhythmic, like some dialect of the old Indigenous tongues.

“Talokan?”

The realization struck Rowan instantly. Blue skin, Indigenous features this matched the underwater kingdom of Talokan introduced in Black Panther 2.

And given their location along South America’s Atlantic coast, it fit perfectly.

A grin spread across Rowan’s face.

He had nearly forgotten about Talokan and Namor after securing Wakanda.

But fate had delivered them into his path today.

And with them, their hidden vibranium mines.

Rowan’s eyes gleamed. Vibranium was a strategic resource. Left unchecked, it would only bring trouble if discovered by others. Best to keep it all under his control.

With a flicker of thought, his spiritual power seized the blue-skinned man by his sharkbone ornaments and hauled him aloft.

The Talokan warrior shrieked in panic.

The serpent fixed him with a chilling stare, forked tongue tasting the air.

Rowan’s voice cut through the chaos. “Be silent.”

His psychic presence pressed down, and instantly the warrior clamped his mouth shut, terror flooding his eyes.

“Can you speak the common tongue?” Rowan asked coldly.

“I… can,” the man stammered at last. His eyes darted between Rowan and the colossal serpent.

“You are Talokan?”

At the name, the man flinched in shock. How could a surface-dweller know of their hidden realm?

“Answer me. Yes or no.”

When hesitation lingered, the serpent slithered closer, its enormous head looming beside him.

“Yes!” the man cried, trembling.

Rowan nodded. His guess was correct.

“Good. Take me to Talokan.”

With that command, psychic force pressed harder upon the man, wringing fear from his bones.

“You may die defiant,” Rowan said evenly. “But it will matter little. This serpent can track your scent through the sea itself. Refuse me, and I will erase your people from the ocean floor.”

The serpent hissed, flicking its tongue in emphasis.

The Talokan warrior faltered, then yielded. “I will take you.”

He introduced himself as Ortega and led Rowan into the depths.

Seated atop the serpent’s head, clad in his Black God armor, Rowan followed into the deep.

After nearly an hour, they emerged before towering geometric stone gates, with faint light beyond revealing a sprawling underwater city.

Guards rushed to intercept, but Ortega explained quickly. Within moments, a powerful figure darted out.

Bare chest, silver spear in hand, winged feet, and sharp ears.

Namor.

The king of Talokan beheld the serpent and awe gave way to fevered greed.

If he could claim this “feathered serpent” as his steed, he would no longer just be a god in name. He would be one in truth.

Rowan read the hunger in his eyes. He did not like it.

With a thought, eight vibranium-forged blades erupted into motion.

Before Namor could react, the blades had already struck.

In an instant, his limbs were shredded, leaving him a ruined husk. His weapon tumbled to the seabed, his blood staining the waters crimson.

Ortega and the guards were frozen in horror.

Rowan reached out, seizing Namor like one would a stray animal.

Dragging him into the palace, Rowan restored him with a vial of Life Water. His body knit together, his eyes wide with dread.

“You are Namor?” Rowan asked flatly.

“I… am,” he answered, his former pride gone, replaced only with fear.

“Then listen. Talokan’s vibranium belongs to me. You may serve, or your people may perish.”

Faced with no choice, Namor knelt, pressing his forehead to the ground.

“Master, I will serve.”

Rowan affixed a vibranium slave collar to his neck.

“From now on, your life is mine to command. Fail me, and death will be instant.”

Namor trembled, the weight of his fall crushing him. Minutes ago, he had been a god. Now he was a slave.

But Rowan’s voice was calm. “Do your duty, and your people will be safe. Disobey, and they will drown in their own blood.”

“Yes, boss,” Namor said, his voice hollow.

When Rowan emerged, the people of Talokan cowered at a distance, gazes fixed upon the serpent and upon the man who stood above it like a true god descended.

Rowan’s serpent had been happily devouring Talokan’s green moss and water plants.

These strange plants contained a peculiar energy. After eating them, the serpent had the distinct feeling that it could evolve further.

Rowan landed on the serpent’s head, laughing softly.

It seemed the city of Talokan truly had been built atop a vibranium deposit. These plants, bathed in vibranium’s influence, had developed unique properties.

“Come on. From now on, you can come here every so often. They’ll offer plenty of sacrifices for you to feast on.”

Rowan spoke gently to the serpent.

The beast let out a joyful hiss, clearly pleased. It had begun to like this unfamiliar sea.

Before long, it carried Rowan out of the depths and soared back into the skies.

“It’s getting late. Let’s head home,” Rowan ordered.

He had once worried the serpent wouldn’t find enough high-quality food.

But with Talokan and its people now treating it as the Feathered Serpent God, that worry was gone. They would happily provide sacrifices.

The serpent flew northward at full speed toward North America.

Rowan admired the breathtaking scenery along the way.

Yet just as they crossed the skies above Bermuda, something suddenly shifted.

“Buzz!”

It was as though they had touched an invisible ripple of water.

Rowan and the serpent instantly sank into it and vanished.

Neither of them had time to react before the world around them changed in a flash.

In the next second, they emerged into a blazing crimson realm.

Rowan’s heart jolted. His entire body tensed at once.

He had felt a trace of spatial wormhole energy. But the serpent had already plunged straight through before he could resist.

The sight before him left him stunned.

This was certainly not Earth.

The terrain was barren, jagged black peaks shrouded in sulfurous haze and unbearable heat.

It was as though every mountain was a volcano on the verge of eruption.

The air temperature seared at nearly ninety degrees Celsius.

Rowan frowned. This wasn’t the Atlantic anymore.

Had he crossed worlds?

Confused, the serpent hissed in alarm, equally bewildered.

Rowan had no choice but to let it fly onward, hoping to find a way out.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if the Ancient One was toying with him.

But that thought didn’t last long.

Because the volcano ahead suddenly shook violently.

The ground trembled. Fire burst forth.

Rowan thought it was an eruption until a colossal shape burst from beneath the earth.

A massive beast shot skyward, jaws snapping toward the serpent.

Rowan’s eyes widened.

A dragon wreathed in flame.

It had the form of a Western dragon, but without wings. Instead, both sides of its back bore blazing vents, like thrusters spewing fire, propelling it through the air with terrifying force.

Its body was hulking, nearly ninety meters long, its muscles corded and its scales black and unyielding. Its very presence radiated raw, crushing strength.

The serpent, though longer at one hundred and twenty meters, was no larger by comparison.

Startled, it thrashed away just in time to evade the flaming jaws.

“Hissss!”

The serpent screamed in anger and fear. For the first time in a long while, it felt truly threatened.

Rowan’s gaze flicked between the lava-stained skies, the volcanic world, and the monstrous dragon with fire jets erupting from its back.

Realization dawned.

“Muspelheim?” he murmured, eyes narrowing.

The realm of fire. One of the Nine Realms, ruled by Surtur.

And then it struck him. The timeline.

This wasn’t random.

He had stumbled into an extraordinarily rare phenomenon the Convergence of the Nine Realms.

Just like in Thor: The Dark World.

Every five thousand years, the Nine Realms aligned, their borders weakening, creating unstable portals where the worlds overlapped.

The Bermuda Triangle must be one of those nexus points, and he had slipped through it straight into Muspelheim.

Rowan’s lips curved upward.

“So… Surtur sent you, did he?” he said, standing tall on the serpent’s head as the fire dragon roared toward him again.

“Convergence of the Nine Realms. The Aether Particles…”

A glint of excitement flashed in his eyes.

“If not for this, I might have forgotten about the Reality Stone.”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep