With the blessing of the Resurrection Poem, the war between the Asgardian warriors and the Dark Elves army was basically a foregone conclusion.
Mavuika swept a glance over the battlefield below, then turned her gaze toward the enemy leader, Malekith, who was confronting Odin.
Thus, that newly born Sun began to move slowly, coming to Odin's side to face Malekith together with him.
Malekith had never felt the weight of 'error' so clearly.
That weight pressed on every one of his nerves, corroding the pride he had built with ten thousand years of resentment, causing his hand holding the Aether Particle—the hand that should have controlled reality and rewritten fate—to tremble slightly.
His scarlet eyes stared fixedly at the newly born Sun in the sky, Mavuika's figure reflected deep within his pupils.
She hovered there, without unnecessary movement, without deliberate coercion, yet the laws of the entire battlefield were tilting toward her; light crowned her, the air made way for her, and even the land of Asgard itself was emitting a resonance of submission.
This shouldn't be.
Malekith roared internally.
He had calculated everything: the exhaustion of Asgard having just ended its expedition, the slackness of being immersed in the glory of the unification of the Nine Realms, Odin's trust in his daughters' power, and even Heimdall's eyes that could see through the Nine Realms.
He had used the clearance of the Aether Particle, carefully and cautiously, to briefly blind them.
He had brought twelve Cursed Warriors, which had almost overdrawn the future of the Dark Elves.
They were killing machines exchanged at the cost of the Dark Elves' most elite warriors, never to be reincarnated, each possessing the power to shake mountains and near-immortal recovery abilities.
He had chosen this time, this place, this moment when Asgard was at its most vulnerable and arrogant.
This should have been a foolproof revenge, the fall of the divine realm, the prelude to the Dark Elves returning to the throne of the Nine Realms' hegemony, and the finale of trampling Asgard's glory into the mud and watering the dark flower with the blood of the Odinson family.
Until that Sun rose.
Until those unkillable Asgardian warriors stood up again and again in the flames.
Until this young goddess, who should not have possessed such power, looked at him with a gaze so calm it was heart-stopping.
Mavuika's figure hovered at Odin's side, flames flowing around her, every breath driving the resonance of energy between heaven and earth; that majestic momentum was not inferior to Odin's in the slightest, perhaps even surpassing it.
As Odin's eldest daughter, the prestige of the 'sun goddess' had long spread to every corner with the war of conquest of the Nine Realms; Malekith had always regarded her and Hela as threats to Asgard's future, never once taking them lightly.
But in his understanding, even with their Talents, these sisters were still young, and there was still a long way to go before they could reach the strength of Odin, who stood at the peak of the Nine Realms.
Yet the Mavuika before him had energy fluctuations radiating from her body that were suffocatingly powerful; it was a brand new power that fused Asgardian Divine Power, the Natlan Fire God's origin, and the Eternal Flame, even faintly carrying the pressure of rules, which had long since ascend all his cognition of 'young gods'.
'You really have raised a good daughter, Odin.'
Malekith's voice was squeezed through his teeth, every word soaked with jealousy and resentment.
He didn't even look at Odin when he spoke, his eyes still fixed on Mavuika, as if trying to see through the light to the essence of her power.
Odin stood at Mavuika's side, the Eternal Spear pointing obliquely at the ground; hearing Malekith's words, a nearly invisible smile flashed in his eyes.
'She has always been my pride.' Odin's voice was not loud, but it clearly penetrated the clamor of the battlefield.
Malekith's cheek twitched.
He was unwilling; the Dark Elves had survived in the shadows for ten million years, and they knew better than any race that flames would extinguish, warmth would dissipate, only Eternity was eternal, and only power was real.
And this woman... how could her flames rewrite reality? How could they make the dead rise again? How could they make him, Malekith, the King of the Dark Elves and holder of the Aether Particle, feel fear?
Although his heart was filled with negative emotions like unwillingness, jealousy, resentment, and shame, Malekith still maintained a sliver of clarity.
The battle situation was clear; on the ground battlefield, the Asgardian warriors were fighting more and more bravely with the blessing of the Resurrection Poem, and the Dark Elves' army was retreating steadily.
In the aerial battlefield, Odin was evenly matched with him, and now there was an additional Mavuika who was clearly not inferior to Odin...
Two against one.
No, not just that.
That Goddess of Death, Hela, although greatly exhausted, once she recovered and joined the battle...
The defeat was already set!
This conclusion stabbed into Malekith's heart like a cold dagger.
But he did not collapse; the Dark Elves were able to survive to this day in the most cruel corners of the Universe, relying not on the stupidity of fighting to the death without retreating, but on the cunning of assessing the situation and the coldness of preserving the spark.
As long as he was still alive.
As long as the Aether Particle was still in his hands.
The Dark Elves still had a future!
Today's failure could become tomorrow's lesson, and today's blood could water future revenge.
Odin would grow old, Asgard's glory would gather dust, and this suddenly risen sun goddess...
She was too young; being young meant being immature, and meant that she might make bigger mistakes.
Retreat, preserve core strength, hibernate, wait, and then look for opportunities!
Once this thought arose, it quickly occupied all of Malekith's thinking.
He no longer looked at Mavuika, but cast his gaze toward Odin, his voice suddenly becoming calm, even carrying a hint of a strange smile.
'It seems that today the Dark Elves are not as good as others; Odin, congratulations, you have not only conquered the Nine Realms but also raised such an outstanding heir.'
While speaking, his right hand quietly made a few gestures behind his back; those were the signals for the Dark Elves fleet Commander.
Prepare for space jump, evacuate at all costs!
Then, he suddenly raised his left hand!
In his palm, the Aether Particle, pulsating like a living heart, burst forth with blinding scarlet light.
The scarlet light Swirl like an explosion, but not toward Odin or Mavuika; instead, it grew, spread, and wove crazily between them and Malekith.
That was not a simple energy barrier; as the Reality Stone, the clearance of the Aether Particle was to 'modify reality'.
At this moment, Malekith was Burning his life, fully activating the stone, and distorted the laws of reality within a limited range.
Space was stretched, folded, and shattered into countless mirror-like fragments, each fragment reflecting a distorted phantom of Malekith.
Light was swallowed, sound was isolated, and even the concept of 'distance' became blurred; even though Malekith was just a hundred meters away, it was as if they were separated by an entire sea of stars.
This was the escape route Malekith created for himself, and also the evacuation window he fought for for the Dark Elves fleet.