Chapter 710

Asgard is too dangerous. I need to get back to Earth.

That was the only thought occupying Evenson’s mind.

He had come to Asgard for three reasons.

First, to deliver the warning and ride the Ancient One’s reputation to earn some goodwill.

Second, to get his right arm healed.

And third, to see what happened.

If he happened to make some money along the way, even better.

It had been a beautiful plan.

Unfortunately, it had remained a plan.

Evenson had vastly underestimated how much weight the title of Sorcerer Supreme carried in Asgard. Borrowing the Ancient One’s name had certainly gotten him Odin’s attention.

It had also gotten him cornered by the All-Father and subjected to questions that could get a man killed.

One minute Odin wanted to know whether the Ancient One had another motive.

The next, he wanted Evenson’s opinion on which of his sons should inherit the throne.

Who could survive that kind of conversation?

And wearing the title of "envoy" did not make Evenson untouchable.

There were plenty of old stories about what happened to trusted men who stood too close to powerful rulers.

The problem was even worse here because Evenson wasn’t actually an envoy from Kamar-Taj at all.

If Odin ever saw through the bluff, Evenson would be in serious trouble.

So ever since that conversation, he’d been avoiding everyone he could.

He especially wanted nothing to do with the apparently unpredictable All-Father.

That was why he was practically tiptoeing toward the healing chamber now.

Before entering, he cracked the door open by a fraction and peered through the gap, carefully scanning the room.

He was looking for an ambush.

More specifically, an ambush involving Odin.

Only after confirming that the room was empty did Evenson slip inside and gently close the door behind him.

"Finally..."

He let out a long breath.

The tension in his chest finally eased.

Once his arm was healed, he was leaving.

The Dark Elves could wait.

Whatever spectacle was about to unfold could wait.

Staying alive came first.

He had a vague recollection that even after returning to Earth, he might still get a chance to encounter the Dark Elves.

There was no reason to insist on watching the whole thing from the front row.

Smack!

"Ah!"

A hand suddenly slammed down onto Evenson’s shoulder from behind.

He nearly jumped out of his skin.

His hair practically stood on end, and his heart launched straight from his stomach into his throat.

Had his mouth been open any wider, it might have come out.

"What are you sneaking around for?"

The voice was slightly husky, with the rough edge of a woman who spent more time on battlefields than in salons.

Evenson recognized it and finally managed to calm down.

Sort of.

The emotional whiplash left him trembling as he turned around.

"Sif? What are you doing here?"

It was indeed Sif.

Her eyebrows had clearly been carefully groomed, and her usual makeup was so subtle that she was nearly barefaced today. Without the usual softer touches, her features looked more striking and martial.

She looked at him as if he’d asked the stupidest question imaginable.

"Seriously? You told me to wait here."

Then she noticed how strangely Evenson was behaving.

She narrowed her eyes.

"You didn’t steal something from us, did you?"

"You... you can’t just accuse someone of theft without evidence!"

Evenson stared at her, his face turning red.

The Golden Palace was all gleaming stone and magnificent architecture, but there wasn’t nearly as much actual gold lying around as people might expect.

What exactly would I steal?

Then he remembered.

Right.

He had asked Sif to come here.

He was getting his arm treated, after all, and he barely knew his way around Asgard. He didn’t know the doctors, he didn’t know the procedures, and he certainly didn’t know how to arrange what amounted to a highly specialized surgical treatment.

Having someone familiar handle things was simply sensible.

"Hurry up," Sif said impatiently. "I still have to check the... the defenses."

Sure you do.

Evenson rolled his eyes.

As if he didn’t know what she was really in a hurry to get back to.

Those books.

The woman had become hopelessly addicted to them.

Apparently even an Asgardian warrior who had fought countless battles wasn’t immune to romance stories.

Still, Sif was doing him a favor.

She walked over, slapped a hand against Evenson’s shoulder, and addressed the doctors.

"This is a honored guest of Asgard and a good friend of mine. Make sure you give him the best treatment possible."

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly.

The doctors became noticeably more attentive.

Several of the younger female physicians immediately stepped aside, while a few older healers were summoned in their place.

Evenson recognized them.

They were among the same senior physicians who had examined Jane earlier.

The moment they arrived, they listened to the situation, examined Evenson’s arm, and began discussing the treatment among themselves.

It wasn’t difficult to understand.

A hospital might normally treat one patient according to standard procedure.

Then suppose they discovered that the patient was not only a foreign dignitary, but was also being personally accompanied by a senior official.

At that point, even if the procedure were something as simple as removing a splinter, every specialist in the hospital would probably be summoned.

For Evenson, this was far more serious.

He was effectively undergoing limb reconstruction.

So naturally, the most senior physician took charge herself.

The doctors almost had to support Evenson as they led him toward the treatment apparatus.

They carefully removed the bandages from his right hand.

The arm beneath them was transparent.

They placed it against the same device Jane had once mistaken for a quantum field generator.

The machine activated.

A yellow construct rose above the platform, forming the outline of an arm.

The senior physician frowned immediately.

The projection was a mess.

It vaguely resembled an arm, but pieces of the structure were scattered, fragmented, and barely connected.

She stared at it.

Then she looked at Evenson.

Her expression seemed to ask a very obvious question.

How badly were you injured?

Whatever had done this had not merely hurt him.

It had practically dismantled the very concept of his arm.

She seemed tempted to ask who had done it and what kind of grudge they must have carried.

In the end, she said nothing.

A physician’s first rule was simple.

Treat the patient.

Don’t ask questions that don’t concern you.

Knowing too much rarely ended well.

She began to work.

Asgardian medicine was extraordinary, but the skill of the woman operating the machine was even more impressive.

Her fingers moved across the device with precise control.

The scattered fragments of the projected arm were drawn back into place one by one.

Where tiny fractures remained, she guided threads of yellow energy along them.

The effect looked almost like filling cracks in glass with resin.

The changes were not limited to the projection.

Evenson felt them in his actual arm.

Fine golden strands appeared within the transparent limb, spreading outward as more and more of the missing structure was restored.

The strands multiplied.

The gaps disappeared.

The arm gradually became whole.

At last, the physician waited until the projected limb looked completely normal.

With a small motion of her hand, she dismissed the image.

Then she focused on Evenson’s actual arm.

Bone.

Flesh.

Skin.

Everything regenerated in sequence until the limb looked completely ordinary.

Only then did the physician finally relax.

"Treatment complete. Move it and see how it feels."

Evenson slowly raised his arm.

He flexed his fingers.

Then he grabbed his wrist with his other hand and squeezed.

He felt it.

Real sensation.

For the first time in a long while, the arm no longer felt numb.

The Eredar Twins had not merely damaged his arm physically.

They had shattered it on a conceptual level.

Evenson had restored the concept almost immediately, but his understanding hadn’t been perfect. His reconstruction had been rough, leaving countless tiny flaws scattered throughout the restored concept.

The worst part was that he hadn’t even known they were there.

No amount of healing potions had been able to correct damage he couldn’t perceive.

The Asgardian physician had immediately identified the problem.

Using the quantum field generator’s capabilities, she had reconstructed those tiny missing pieces of the concept one by one.

Once the concept itself was whole, rebuilding the physical body was almost trivial.

"Oh, it’s fixed!"

Evenson stared at his restored right hand with obvious delight.

He even pressed his cheek against it affectionately.

Then he paused.

The arm worked again.

It had sensation again.

Everything had returned to normal.

But it was no longer what it had once been.

Its previous utility had been lost.

Evenson’s smile faded slightly.

And just like that, the retirement home it goes.

Still, a working arm was a working arm.

"Thank you very much, Lady Sif."

Evenson rose and bowed repeatedly.

Sif waved away his gratitude.

"There’s no need. I promised I’d get your arm treated. This is simply me keeping my word."

She smiled.

"And you’ve helped me more than once yourself."

"You’re very straightforward."

Evenson smiled back.

Now that his business was finished, there was only one thing left to do.

"Since everything is settled, I should return to Earth. Please convey my farewell to the All-Father."

"You’re leaving already?"

Sif frowned.

"You aren’t going to say goodbye to the All-Father in person?"

"That isn’t necessary."

Evenson shook his head repeatedly.

Seeing her confusion, he quickly supplied an explanation.

"Asgard is dealing with a great deal right now. The All-Father has more than enough responsibilities without me interrupting him."

"I’m sure he’ll understand."

Of course he would.

Evenson could already imagine Odin’s interpretation.

His envoy mission was finished.

Naturally, the envoy would want to return immediately and report back to the Sorcerer Supreme.

"All right."

Sif nodded.

"Then I suppose you’re skipping your farewell drink."

"No drink."

Evenson shook his head again.

Then he added, "You’re serving with the army. You probably shouldn’t be drinking."

Sif gave him an amused look.

"You really don’t understand us Asgardians."

She laughed.

"How are we supposed to go into battle without drinking? Half the fun is getting properly fired up first."

Evenson stared at her.

"Fine. I concede the point."

He smiled.

"When you have a chance to visit Earth, I’ll buy you a drink."

Which will probably never happen.

Still, Evenson was happy to make the promise.

"Next round’s on me."

He left the healing chamber and immediately prepared to activate his demonic teleportation circle.

The spell formed.

The power began to build.

Then it was forcibly interrupted.

The magic was cut off halfway through, slamming back into him so violently that Evenson nearly doubled over.

It felt like eating an entire pot of brutally spicy food and then immediately getting strapped into the most violent roller coaster in the universe.

"What the hell?"

Had Asgard been fitted with some sort of anti-teleportation system?

That didn’t make sense.

When he’d first arrived, he’d already tested his connection to the demonic array he’d left on Earth. Nothing had interfered with it.

Then...

Did Odin decide not to let me leave?

Before Evenson could chase that thought any further, the ground trembled.

A moment later, the entire Golden Palace erupted with the shriek of alarms.

Sif came running back.

"Evenson!"

Her expression had changed completely.

"It’s an invasion alarm. The Dark Elves are attacking!"

She pointed toward the surrounding defenses.

"Heimdall has activated the Asa Wall. The entire Golden Palace has been sealed."

The Asa Wall was an enormous energy barrier reputed to be virtually indestructible.

Its controls were located with Heimdall, while its central power nexus was inside the Golden Palace.

A defense system of that scale naturally came with one very important feature.

It isolated the space inside the barrier.

No teleporting in.

No teleporting out.

Evenson stared blankly ahead.

Two seconds.

He’d needed two more seconds.

Two!

Could the Dark Elves not have waited two miserable seconds?

Two seconds and he would have been home.

Fine.

They wanted him to stay?

Then they could deal with the consequences.

Evenson’s expression darkened.

But before he could fully indulge his irritation, he felt the spatial interference beginning to disappear.

At almost the same time, explosions and heavy impacts thundered through the palace.

The Asa Wall was either breaking apart...

Or someone was deliberately deactivating it.

Evenson raised one hand.

His Corruptor’s Attire materialized over his body.

His staff appeared in his grasp, five skulls hanging from its frame.

Then he stepped toward Sif.

"You aren’t leaving?"

Sif looked at him in surprise.

Evenson stood ready for battle.

"Of course not."

His voice became solemn.

"How could I leave when Asgard is under attack?"

Now that the barrier was weakening, Evenson could teleport home.

Technically.

But leaving now would be a completely different matter.

Leaving before the invasion would have been going home.

Leaving after the invasion began would be desertion.

Evenson wasn’t an Asgardian.

He wasn’t part of their army.

Asgardian military law had no authority over him.

That wasn’t the issue.

Asgardians valued courage and honor above almost everything else. A man who fled a battlefield would earn their contempt.

If Evenson abandoned them now, any goodwill he’d built with Asgard would be gone forever.

Besides, once the realm entered a full-scale war, Odin probably wouldn’t have time to corner him with bizarre questions.

Sif immediately assessed the battlefield.

"The Asa Wall didn’t fail on its own. Its power core must have been damaged."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Someone got inside ahead of the main attack."

She was right.

The Dark Elves’ invasion had unfolded almost exactly as Odin had anticipated.

They could not launch a direct assault on Asgard.

They would need another realm as a foothold first.

What Odin had not anticipated was the method.

The Dark Elves might have sent an army into another realm.

Or they might have sent a single man.

A man willing to kneel.

Algem was Malekith’s most trusted subordinate.

To the Dark Elf king, he was more brother than servant.

Now he had been entrusted with a critical mission.

He would infiltrate Asgard in secret and clear the path for the Dark Elves’ invasion and the recovery of the Aether.

Algem changed his appearance and quietly entered one of the other realms.

A rebellion had only recently been put down there, leaving countless prisoners awaiting transfer to Asgard.

Algem simply joined them.

And under Asgardian escort, the enemy’s agent was delivered straight into the heart of Asgard.

...