Mavuika glanced at her younger sister: "The casket of ancient winters is an ancient artifact. If Laufey hadn't been unable to fully control it, the battle wouldn't have gone so smoothly, and..."
She looked into the distance at Laufey, who was being escorted onto a transport ship: "He ultimately chose to surrender. That requires more courage than dying in battle."
"Just cowardice," Hela snorted coldly.
"A true ruler should fight to the last man. Surrender? That is a stain on a warrior's soul."
"That's because you don't yet understand that a ruler's responsibility is sometimes heavier than a warrior's glory," Mavuika said softly. "He carries the survival of an entire race on his shoulders."
Just as Hela was about to retort, the ship began to descend.
The residual energy of the Bifrost Bridge was still rippling on the ice, forming circles of iridescent halos.
The main ship's landing gear made a slight "clack" as it touched the ice, and the solid frost cracked into spiderweb-like patterns under the heavy weight of the hull.
Odin was the first to walk down the ramp, the Eternal Spear reflecting a cold, hard light in his hand.
Mavuika and Hela followed closely behind, stepping onto the ice.
Just as Odin was about to order everyone to board the ship and activate the Bifrost Bridge for the return journey, his footsteps suddenly stopped.
The God-King's single eye narrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on an inconspicuous ice mound a hundred meters away.
That ice mound had been hit by artillery fire during the battle, its surface covered in cracks, now shimmering with an amber light under the setting sun.
"Father?" Mavuika noticed something was wrong.
Odin did not answer but walked straight toward the ice mound.
His pace was slow, each step steady. The tip of the Eternal Spear pointed toward the ground; there was no hostility, yet he remained vigilant.
Mavuika and Hela exchanged a glance and followed him.
Ten meters before the ice mound, Odin stopped.
He stared deep into the ice, and after a long while, he slowly spoke: "Beneath the ice, there is the breath of life."
Hela immediately raised mjolnir: "A survivor? Let me—"
"No." Odin raised his hand to stop her. "It's very weak... and very small."
Mavuika had already sensed it.
It was a very fragile, very pure vibration of life, like a newborn flame, stubbornly flickering within its icy cocoon.
She walked to the ice mound, knelt on one knee, and pressed her palm against the ice.
A warm, golden-red glow overflowed from her palm, seeping into the ice.
The scene beneath the ice gradually became clear.
It was a small ice cave, about the size of a wardrobe. The inner walls had been deliberately polished smooth and were lined with soft Ice Beast fur.
And in the center of the fur curled an infant.
A Frost Giant infant.
He was very small; by Frost Giant standards, he might have been just born.
His skin was pale blue, covered with a layer of fine white fuzz. Two tiny ice crystal protrusions had already grown on his forehead—the prototypes of future ice horns.
His eyes were closed, his breathing weak but steady, his chest rising and falling gently with each breath.
An infant abandoned on the edge of a battlefield.
After Hela saw clearly, she let out a sneer: "An orphan? Or a trap?"
She walked to the ice mound, the head of mjolnir hovering above the ice: "Would Frost Giants use an infant as bait?"
"It's not a trap." Mavuika's hand was still on the ice, continuously maintaining the warmth of the ice cave.
She looked around. The ice mound was at the edge of the battlefield, and further away was the ruin of a destroyed ice house. From the wreckage, it seemed to have once been a simple dwelling.
"Perhaps the parents died in the war and hid the child here before they passed," Mavuika analyzed.
"Or perhaps... it was intentional abandonment."
Hela grew impatient: "Father, how should we handle this? Take it back as a trophy? Or—"
She made a downward slashing gesture: "End his suffering? Either way, abandoned in this frozen wasteland, he'll die sooner or later."
Mavuika looked up sharply: "Hela!"
"Am I wrong?" Hela met her sister's gaze, her dark green eyes filled with pure pragmatism.
"Sister, this is a Frost Giant cub. His people just fought a bloody battle with us. His parents might have died at our hands. Bring him back to Asgard? Let him grow up, let him learn our power, and then one day discover the truth and seek revenge on us?"
She pointed at the infant: "He is a pure-blooded Frost Giant. Hatred for Asgard is etched into his bloodline. Just as a wolf cub is born to hunt, mercy now is the root of future calamity."
Mavuika stood up and looked directly at Hela: "So you would kill an innocent infant because of a 'possible' threat?"
"Hela, he has just come into this World. He has no choice and no knowledge yet. Who is born evil? Who is born good? It is experience, education, and environment that shape a person."
She turned to Odin: "Father, life is innocent. We have no right to deprive him of his right to survive because of the possibilities in his bloodline."
Hela sneered: "Innocent? His parents' hands might be stained with Asgardian blood! His kin just killed thirty-seven guards at the Bifrost Bridge!"
"Those are not his sins!" Mavuika said with a serious expression.
Odin watched his two daughters' dispute and remained silent for a long time.
Finally, he walked to the ice mound and lightly tapped the ice with the tip of the Eternal Spear.
"Crack—"
The ice mound split from the top, the crack extending precisely above the ice cave where the infant was, without harming the interior in the slightest.
Odin reached out, and a gentle surge of golden divine power lifted the Frost Giant infant, slowly removing him from the ice cave.
The infant was disturbed and opened his eyes—a pair of clear, ice-blue eyes, like the purest glaciers of Jotunheim.
He didn't cry; he just looked at Odin curiously, his small fists waving in the air, tiny ice crystals condensing at his fingertips.
Odin wrapped the infant in his cloak, revealing only that small face with Frost Giant features.
"Father?" Hela frowned. "You aren't really..."
"I have decided to take him back to Asgard," Odin's voice was calm and firm. "As my adopted son."
Silence.
Hela's eyes widened, and Mavuika also showed a look of surprise. Although she advocated sparing the infant, she hadn't expected her father to go this far.
"Why?" Hela couldn't understand. "A Frost Giant, as the adopted son of the God-King of Asgard?"
Odin looked at Hela, his eyes holding a depth she had never seen before: "Hela, your sister is right. The meaning of conquest is not to create hatred. But you are also right; memories in the bloodline are hard to erase."
He looked down at the infant in his arms, who was grabbing a strand of his beard and pulling curiously.
"So, I want to make an attempt," Odin said slowly.
"Bring him back to Asgard, give him the status of a Prince of Asgard, give him the best education, give him the warmth of a family, let him stay away from the hatred of Jotunheim, and let him grow up as a member of the Odinson family."
The God-King looked up toward the Frost Giant prisoners who were boarding the ships in the distance: "And then see if, over a long enough time and with enough love, the hatred in the bloodline can truly be dissolved. See if a child can become a bridge between the two races. Even if it cannot completely resolve the enmity, at least, plant a seed of possibility."