Chapter 709

"I’m not. I didn’t. And you’re making things up!"

Whatever conclusion Odin had reached, Evenson was sticking to his story.

He knew nothing.

He had done nothing.

And he certainly wasn’t admitting to anything.

Mostly because there was nothing to admit to in the first place.

Evenson was already regretting the entire decision.

His concern had been simple enough. Asgard was an ancient race of gods that had ruled the Nine Realms for longer than human civilization had existed. Odin himself was broad-minded and didn’t harbor much prejudice against humanity, but tolerance was not the same as respect.

Evenson had a little standing in Asgard thanks to his friendship with Thor and Sif.

That was hardly enough.

So he’d borrowed the Ancient One’s reputation.

The title of Sorcerer Supreme carried weight, and the keepsake she’d given him made the claim convincing enough. It had seemed like an easy way to ensure Odin took him seriously.

And since the Ancient One had handed him the token herself, why not make use of it?

What Evenson hadn’t expected was for Odin to take it this seriously.

Somehow, the All-Father had constructed an entire theory in which the Ancient One had deliberately sent Evenson to investigate how much longer Odin had to live.

It was a disaster of his own making.

He might have accepted almost any other misunderstanding and muddled his way through it.

But questioning a ruler about his lifespan?

That was another matter entirely.

Life and death were among the greatest taboos surrounding a monarch. Evenson would sooner bite through his own tongue than admit he’d been sent to test whether the rumors about Odin’s mortality were true.

"You don’t have to tell me," Odin said at last.

Faced with Evenson’s stubborn refusal, he merely smiled and let the matter go.

"My condition is already known to quite a few people. It is hardly a secret."

He paused.

"I met the Ancient One a thousand years ago. Given her mastery over time..."

Odin suddenly fell silent.

Something unpleasant had clearly crossed his mind.

For an instant, his expression became strangely complicated.

Then he forcibly pushed the memory aside.

"Given her abilities, she has probably already reached the same conclusion. So I do not blame you."

Odin even gave Evenson a friendly smile, as though he genuinely didn’t mind.

Evenson immediately panicked.

"Your Majesty will live for countless ages! I mean... countless ages!"

Don’t bait me into saying anything. I don’t know anything. I saw nothing. I was never here.

"And what exactly do you mean by ’I don’t blame you’?"

The words had been so polite they somehow made everything worse.

Odin clearly believed Evenson had been sent to investigate his remaining lifespan.

He was simply choosing not to pursue the matter.

Evenson felt a headache coming on.

Somehow he’d managed to walk into a trap of his own construction.

"So you seem uncomfortable with that question."

Odin rested both hands against the balcony railing and gazed out across Asgard, his back toward Evenson.

"Then I’ll ask you something else."

He was silent for a moment.

"In my current condition, is there anything I still cannot bring myself to let go of?"

Evenson hesitated.

There was no chance he was answering that carelessly.

He cast his eyes left, then right, buying himself a few seconds before offering the safest answer he could.

"The All-Father’s wisdom is deeper than the sea. I have no place speculating about what lies in your heart. Besides, I cannot imagine there is anything in this world that Your Majesty cannot take up or put down as you choose."

Odin gave a quiet chuckle.

It was a perfectly polished answer.

Which was another way of saying it answered absolutely nothing.

"Come here."

Odin beckoned.

"Look outside."

Evenson immediately became suspicious.

Is this old man about to lure me over and throw me off the balcony?

Surely not.

Probably.

Slowly, he approached.

But he stopped a safe distance behind Odin and made absolutely no attempt to get near the railing.

Odin waved grandly toward the vast landscape beyond the palace.

"What do you think of my kingdom?"

Evenson looked.

And for a moment, he forgot to speak.

He had never actually seen Asgard from this height.

The timing made it even more spectacular. The sun was sinking beyond the horizon, covering the realm in the warm gold of evening.

The city, mountains, and distant lands seemed almost unreal beneath the fading light.

"It’s magnificent," Evenson said, unable to hide his genuine appreciation. "A kingdom worthy of an age-spanning king."

Odin stared out over his realm as well.

For a moment, the old king’s commanding presence faded, replaced by something quieter.

"Magnificent..."

His voice carried a trace of melancholy.

"But no one can take it with them."

He paused.

"No one."

Then the melancholy vanished.

The weight of the All-Father settled over him again.

"Which means someone must inherit it."

Evenson was still trying to understand why Odin had suddenly started speaking to him like this when that single eye fixed on him.

"What do you think of my eldest son, Thor?"

Evenson froze.

Cold sweat nearly broke across his forehead.

"That is Your Majesty’s family business," he said immediately. "Surely the decision is yours to make. Why ask an outsider?"

He was now completely convinced.

Odin had not merely taken the medicine bottle that morning.

He’d swallowed the entire medicine cabinet.

Why else would he keep asking questions this lethal?

"You needn’t look so terrified."

Odin leaned casually against the balcony railing.

"The King of Asgard is King of the Nine Realms and sovereign over their peoples. He is not merely the king of my own household."

"Furthermore, when I forged the ancient accord with the Ancient One, Midgard was granted independence and self-government. Asgard nevertheless retained the legal right to recognize it as one of the Nine Realms and to claim nominal suzerainty over it."

"Under Asgardian law, the Sorcerer Supreme is effectively the ruler of Midgard. She therefore has the right to offer an opinion on matters concerning its relationship with Asgard."

This was why Odin took the Ancient One so seriously.

It wasn’t merely respect for her character.

Yes, he had ultimately yielded to her demands and agreed to Earth’s independence. He had even sworn that Asgard would never wage war against Midgard.

But the Ancient One had not pushed him farther than necessary.

She had allowed Asgard to retain the title of nominal overlord.

It preserved Odin’s dignity.

In practice, Earth paid no tribute, sent no troops, obeyed no summons, and answered to no proclamation from Asgard.

The title existed mostly on paper.

Still, Odin had not forgotten the arrangement.

And that made the Ancient One’s opinion particularly important now.

His other realms were simple by comparison.

If a kingdom refused to obey, Asgard could put it down.

Not some crude war of conquest, either.

A rebellion against Asgard gave Odin all the justification he needed to intervene.

The trouble was that Earth was different.

The Ancient One was standing in the way.

Odin had promised Earth independence in the most sacred duel of his life. Breaking that promise now would destroy his honor.

And once the ruler of Asgard lost his honor, what kingdom would trust him afterward?

So war was not an option.

Negotiation was.

Better to find out now what the Ancient One wanted from the next king. Better to settle the issue while Odin was still alive, so the ancient accord could survive the transition of power.

Otherwise, the next king might inherit Asgard and immediately preside over the loss of one of its realms.

The thought irritated Odin immensely.

His two sons were both troublesome in their own ways.

If negotiations failed and the Ancient One demanded that Earth withdraw completely from the Nine Realms, war might once again become unavoidable.

Thor certainly couldn’t defeat her.

And Loki...

Considering what Loki was doing these days, Odin would count it as a miracle if the boy didn’t help Earth overthrow Asgard’s authority himself.

A different thought briefly crossed Odin’s mind.

Perhaps the throne didn’t necessarily need to go to one of his sons.

There was another woman in Asgard with extraordinary ability, ambition, and strength of character.

If she ruled...

Odin’s expression hardened.

No.

He immediately discarded the thought.

She would not preserve Asgard.

She would drag Asgard and the rest of the Nine Realms into the abyss.

Odin finished thinking through the matter and noticed that Evenson was still standing there in silence.

"You and I are alone here," he said. "Whatever you say can remain between us. Speak freely."

"But..."

Evenson hesitated.

"The Ancient One never gave me an opinion on this matter."

Because she has no idea I’m doing this.

As far as Evenson knew, the Ancient One was currently occupied elsewhere and had absolutely no intention of concerning herself with Asgard’s succession politics.

Odin let out a quiet, skeptical laugh.

"The Ancient One knows me, and I know the Ancient One."

You know absolutely nothing.

Evenson smiled tightly.

Odin sighed.

"Very well."

Seeing that Evenson still refused to speak, he gave ground.

"Anything you say from this point onward is your own opinion. It does not represent the Ancient One, and it does not represent Midgard."

Odin had reached a completely different conclusion.

He assumed the Ancient One had deliberately instructed Evenson not to make any official statement. If Evenson spoke in her name, or in Earth’s name, his words would become a diplomatic position that could not easily be withdrawn.

A personal opinion, however, left room to maneuver.

So, in Odin’s mind, the Ancient One was simply being cautious and considerate.

That’s even worse.

"If I speak only for myself," Evenson thought, then there’s no one else to drag into the disaster when this goes wrong.

"Relax," Odin said. "We’re merely exchanging opinions."

For once, Odin had managed to guess correctly.

"I give you my word as the All-Father. I will not become angry, and I will not punish you for your answer."

Evenson exhaled quietly.

The king had backed him into a corner.

He had to say something.

"Not every situation can be judged by the same standard," Evenson began carefully. "Each matter has to be considered according to its circumstances. Exceptions sometimes have to be made. As for Prince Thor’s succession..."

He spoke slowly, deliberately, watching Odin’s expression after every sentence.

Every word remained deliberately vague.

That way, if necessary, he could retreat and claim he’d meant something else.

Unfortunately, Odin’s patience had already been worn thin.

"Since you’ve started speaking," the All-Father snapped, "can you get to the point?"

Evenson fell silent.

He took a deep breath.

I am a Warlock.

I am a Warlock.

I am a Warlock.

His posture changed.

His nerves steadied.

Then he began again.

"What I said wasn’t an evasion. Nothing is absolute. Circumstances matter. Even the question of who should inherit the throne must depend upon the situation."

"Oh?"

Odin’s expression remained unreadable.

"Go on."

Evenson clenched his teeth and continued.

"Prince Thor has great strength of character. He is broad-minded, courageous, and exceptionally resilient. More importantly, he has the ability to inspire hope in people when they need it most."

"In a time of war, or when a foreign enemy threatens Asgard, he would be an excellent king."

Odin remained silent.

"But in an age of peace..."

Evenson gave a carefully neutral smile.

"...the All-Father is still in his prime by Asgardian standards. There is plenty of time for you to continue guiding him."

"Hm."

Odin nodded.

The assessment matched his own impression of Thor almost perfectly.

Thor was a warrior suited to crisis.

Peaceful governance was another matter.

Put simply, Thor was an excellent hammer.

Odin wasn’t entirely convinced the hammer should also be running the kingdom.

"And Loki?"

Evenson blinked.

That question genuinely surprised him.

He had assumed Loki’s rebellion, followed by his imprisonment, had convinced Odin to give up on him completely.

Apparently not.

"The God of Mischief," Evenson said after a moment’s thought. "Prince Loki’s intellect is exceptional. He is far more perceptive than most people, and he prefers to solve problems through strategy rather than brute force."

"Even when confronted directly by an enemy, he tends to choose the most advantageous course of action."

Odin closed his eye for a moment.

Then he understood.

Evenson had specifically called Loki the God of Mischief.

Not the God of Stories.

Not the God of Magic.

Not the God of Strategy.

Mischief implied play.

Trickery.

A man who could outthink his enemies, perhaps, but was not necessarily suited to carrying a kingdom on his shoulders.

And Evenson’s praise of Loki’s intelligence had contained its own warning.

Clever people often knew how to preserve themselves.

That didn’t necessarily mean they had the courage to lead from the front.

In battle, Loki’s greatest instinct might well be finding the safest route out.

"And..."

Evenson knew he needed to make the performance complete.

"Loki is still young and arrogant. What he did on Midgard last time is something the Ancient One has yet to..."

"I understand."

Odin raised a hand and stopped him.

"Loki acted out of immaturity. I have already punished him by placing him in the dungeon. That should be sufficient explanation to the Ancient One."

He waved dismissively.

"You may leave. I need time to think."

Evenson bowed.

"Then I shall take my leave."

He didn’t waste another second.

The moment he was clear of the balcony, he practically fled.

Behind him, Odin remained where he was, gazing toward the distant horizon.

As expected of the Sorcerer Supreme.

Her insight was extraordinary.

She had seen straight through both of his sons.

One was a warrior.

The other was a schemer.

How much better would things be if those two could simply support each other?

Odin continued staring into the distance.

For his kingdom’s sake, he could only hope they would.