Faced with Rowan’s overwhelming pressure, the dwarves of Nidavellir felt utterly helpless. None of them could have imagined that Odin, the mighty All-Father who had stood unchallenged for hundreds of thousands of years, had finally entered the twilight of his life.

Even more shocking was the fall of Heimdall, the god of dawn and keeper of the Bifrost. Without him, the Rainbow Bridge was no longer under Asgard’s control. From the dwarves’ perspective, their realm of Nidavellir now stood isolated, exposed to the endless threats of the cosmos.

What good would it do them if Thor eventually defeated Loki and took the throne of Asgard? By that time, Nidavellir might already be reduced to ashes by the sheer power of the Infinity Stones.

Now, only two paths remained before them.

The first was to resist, to gamble everything on defiance.

The second was to bow their heads and submit.

But if they chose resistance, then judging by the sheer power this Midgardian had already displayed, they would almost certainly be annihilated, swept away alongside Nidavellir itself into cosmic dust.

To live or to perish. That was the only question left.

It was a grim decision, but one that could not be avoided.

The dwarven king, Eitri, let out a heavy sigh. Even the great Odin had entered his eternal slumber. What meaning remained in their loyalty to Asgard now?

“Speak, Midgardian,” Eitri finally said, his voice carrying resignation. “What kind of artifact do you wish us to forge?”

Rowan closed his right hand, dimming the radiant glow of the Power Stone. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

If they had agreed from the beginning, he would not have needed to play the role of villain.

“I want you to forge me an Infinity Gauntlet.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Eitri’s composure shattered. His eyes widened with raw shock.

“The Infinity Gauntlet?” he gasped. He had not expected Rowan to know of such a secret.

“You… you cannot mean…” His gaze drifted down to Rowan’s right hand, where the Power Stone gleamed with restrained energy. The realization struck him like a hammer blow.

This Midgardian wasn’t merely seeking power. He intended to walk the same path that Odin the All-Father had once dared to tread: the path of gathering the Infinity Stones.

Rowan only smiled at Eitri’s stunned expression.

The truth was simple: the dwarves had forged an Infinity Gauntlet before. Odin himself, during his campaigns across the cosmos, had attempted to collect the stones. The Cosmic Cube what mortals called the Space Stone had been one of the treasures he left behind on Earth.

Even now, a model of the Infinity Gauntlet lay hidden in the vaults of Asgard, a relic of Odin’s ambition.

Thanos, no doubt, had learned of this. That was why he had sought Nidavellir in the first place, to compel the dwarves to forge him a weapon capable of channeling such unimaginable power.

But even Thanos had never dared to set foot on Earth while Odin still lived. The Titan had waited, watching, until the All-Father’s strength waned.

“Can you forge it?” Rowan asked, his tone calm yet edged with command.

“I… I…” Eitri’s instinct was to lie, to feign ignorance and deny all knowledge of such a creation. But when he looked into Rowan’s ice-blue eyes, cold and fathomless as the void itself, the words caught in his throat.

This was no man to test with falsehoods.

“Answer me, King of the Dwarves.” Rowan’s brows furrowed, his voice reverberating through the star-forge like a rolling storm. The sheer dominance in his tone left no room for refusal.

“I…” Sweat beaded upon Eitri’s brow. He hesitated only a few seconds more before slumping in defeat. “Yes. It can be done.”

Rowan’s smile deepened.

“You know why I want it. Your people once forged such a gauntlet for Odin. Whatever configuration you crafted for him, you will craft for me. But hear me clearly if I discover even a hint of deceit…”

He did not finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

Violet flames suddenly ignited across his shoulders, his elbows, and even in the strands of his hair. The heat surged outward in a suffocating wave, making the very heart of the forge shudder and flare in resonance.

Eitri swallowed hard. He understood well enough. This man carried the same boundless ambition that Odin once had and perhaps even greater resolve. To refuse him was to invite extinction.

“I will do my best,” Eitri said at last, his voice hollow with surrender.

Rowan nodded, satisfied.

“Eitri,” he continued, his tone softening into something almost conversational. “Asgard is fated to fall in Ragnarok. Shouldn’t Nidavellir already be seeking another protector?”

The dwarf king stiffened.

Truth be told, he had long grown disillusioned with Asgard. For countless ages, his people had forged weapons and artifacts for them, bound by their oaths. Asgard had promised protection in return.

But when the threat had come to Nidavellir’s doorstep, when destruction loomed, the Rainbow Bridge had remained silent.

How long could they rely on such broken promises?

And yes, Eitri had heard whispers of Ragnarok. The end of all things. The destruction of Asgard. Could it be true? Could Asgard really fall?

He dared not complete the thought. Without Asgard’s shield, Nidavellir would become prey to the endless factions of the cosmos, each coveting the dwarves’ skill in forging weapons of legend.

Rowan’s voice cut through his turmoil.

“My offer is simple. Forge me the Infinity Gauntlet, and in return, I will shield Nidavellir. Under my protection, your people will endure.”

Eitri’s heart pounded. This was no small promise. The dwarves had always needed a patron. And this man this terrifying Midgardian was already displaying the strength of a god.

Rowan leaned closer, his words deliberate. “You need not doubt me. For besides the Power Stone, I already hold the Space Stone, the Reality Stone, and the Mind Stone.”

The dwarf king froze. His pupils dilated, his jaw slackened.

Four. Four Infinity Stones.

He swallowed again, the sound loud in the sudden silence. Not even Odin had held so many. The All-Father, at his peak, had gathered only two. Yet this man stood before him with double that number.

The truth hit Eitri like a thunderbolt: Rowan might very well succeed in assembling all six.

And if he did, the gauntlet they forged would carry the most fearsome power the universe had ever known.

At last, Eitri bowed deeply. “If Asgard truly falls as you say, then when that day comes, Nidavellir will willingly kneel at your feet.”

This time, there was no pretense, no hesitation. Only awe and submission.

Rowan inclined his head, satisfied.

Asgard’s doom was inevitable. Whether by the fire demon Surtur, or by his own hand once Hela claimed the throne, Rowan would ensure its downfall. He would tolerate no rival kingdom, not one so close to Midgard.

For him, it was simple: no one else would be allowed to sleep beneath his roof.

Eitri saw the conviction in Rowan’s eyes and felt a chill deeper than the void itself. He no longer doubted. The fall of Asgard was certain.

“Go now,” Rowan said, his voice final. “Forge me the gauntlet with all haste.”

With that, he rose into the air, weightless, soaring upward without aid of ship or spell.

Eitri watched in silence, awe tightening in his chest. The Midgardian was already as gods once were. Perhaps more.

Rowan returned to the vibranium ship. Inside, Wanda still slept peacefully, undisturbed. The ship absorbed vibrations, ensuring that none of the chaos outside had reached her dreams.

He let her rest, choosing not to wake her. Instead, he made his way to a sealed chamber, slipped the twin-port ring onto his finger, and vanished into the otherworldly plane of the Devouring Realm.

It had been days since he had last visited. Today was a special day Luo Feng’s trial to become a prospective warrior.

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