Her voice echoed in the study, filled with undeniable fanaticism and confidence; it was the pure logic of a conqueror.
If an enemy exists, defeat it; if an obstacle appears, destroy it.
All considerations regarding 'management,' 'digestion,' or 'preparation' were, in her eyes, signs of weakness—hesitations that the strong should not possess.
When Odin heard these words from Hela, the last trace of patience in his eyes finally extinguished, replaced by a deep sense of disappointment.
He understood this daughter.
Hela's Talents and bravery were beyond doubt; she would be Asgard's sharpest sword and strongest shield.
But she also lacked something: the ability to assess the situation as a ruler should, the global vision expected of a crown prince, and the wisdom to truly understand 'why power is used.'
She saw only the sharpness of the sword but forgot that a sword also needs a scabbard; she craved only the thrill of conquest but ignored the responsibilities that followed.
Such a Hela could be an invincible general, but it was difficult for her to become a qualified heir to the throne.
The divine power on Odin began to fluctuate slightly; it was a precursor to his anger about to manifest into reality.
But Mavuika was one step faster than him.
Almost at the moment Odin's aura changed, Mavuika had quietly moved his feet; it appeared casual, yet he precisely blocked the space between him and Hela.
Mavuika did not turn back, only slightly turned his head, and said in a soft but firm voice that only the father and daughter could hear.
"Let me handle this, Father."
Odin's steps stopped.
He looked at the back of his eldest daughter; Mavuika stood there, his posture as straight as a pine, golden-red Fire quietly flowing around him, neither ostentatious nor yielding, stable like a needle of the sea.
Odin was silent for a moment, the thunder in his eyes slowly calming down, and the disappointment was replaced by a deeper emotion: trust.
He nodded without making a sound, but Mavuika seemed to sense it; he slightly inclined his head, then turned his full attention back to Hela, who remained angry and unwilling before him.
Odin retreated silently, and the heavy study door slowly closed behind him, leaving the space entirely to the two of them.
Hela did not even watch her father leave.
Her gaze was locked on Mavuika from beginning to end, like a leopard staring at its prey, or a lost traveler staring fixedly at the only lighthouse.
"Your thoughts are not wrong either, Hela."
Mavuika spoke only after the door was completely closed.
This sentence made Hela's tense expression slightly startled.
After Odin left, Mavuika continued: "To deal with the trouble in Midgard, we will definitely clash with those Gods; Father and I are both clear on this point."
He took a step forward, closing the distance with Hela.
This time, Hela did not retreat.
"But, Hela..." Mavuika's tone became serious; it was the tone of a Commander analyzing the battle situation on the battlefield.
"You, who once led Asgardian warriors to victory without fail, should also be very clear that war is not child's play, especially when facing unknown enemies that may far exceed our imagination."
He looked into Hela's eyes, enunciating every word: "Asgard does not fight unprepared battles."
Hela gritted her teeth: "Then when can it be considered 'ready'? Sister? Ten years? A hundred years? Or a thousand years? Wait until those Gods come knocking on our door themselves? Wait until the seeds of Midgard bloom and bear fruit, sucking the entire Planet dry?"
Her voice was filled with sarcasm, but deep down hid a trace of genuine anxiety—anxiety about the passage of time, anxiety about missed opportunities, anxiety about... perhaps never waiting for that 'ultimate conquest.'
Mavuika shook his head.
He did not answer Hela's question directly, but suddenly changed the subject:
"Do you remember that battle against the Dark Elves? When I wrapped every Asgardian in Fire, letting them face death without fear on the battlefield, or even return from the dead."
Hela was stunned for a moment; she did not expect her sister to suddenly bring this up.
"Of course I remember." She replied subconsciously, her tone involuntarily carrying a hint of admiration.
"A very miraculous power; to be reborn in Fire is simply... a cheating-like ability in war."
"I call it 'Resurrection Poem'." Mavuika nodded, a small ball of warm golden-red Fire igniting in his palm, with faint, subtle runes flowing within the flame.
"But it is actually... not yet perfect."
Hela raised an eyebrow: "So?"
Her curiosity was piqued.
As a warrior who had personally experienced the power of the Resurrection Poem, she knew better than anyone the terrifying value of this ability; it was equivalent to giving an army the ability to fight indefinitely, with morale never falling and casualties nearly zero.
If this power could be popularized...
"The current Resurrection Poem relies entirely on my power to sustain it." Mavuika extinguished the fire, his expression serious.
"If my power consumption is too high, or the distance is too far, this protection will weaken or even be interrupted, and the coverage area is also greatly limited."
He pointed out the window: "With my current full strength, I can barely cover the entire Asgard homeland. This is temporarily enough for internal strife and defense within the Nine Realms, but if..."
Mavuika's gaze became distant, as if he saw those silent giant shadows deep in the starry sky.
"If we have to face those Gods mentioned by Father, if our battlefield might expand to several galaxies, or even... involve the survival of the entire Nine Realms, then the current Resurrection Poem is far from enough."
Hela's heart skipped a beat; she heard the deep meaning in her sister's words.
"So, I need your help, Hela." Mavuika looked at his sister, his eyes filled with undisguised solemnity and a request.
Hela was completely stunned.
She had envisioned that her sister might continue to persuade her, might sternly reprimand her, or even use power to suppress her, but she had never thought... her sister would ask her for help.
"Me?" Hela pointed at herself, somewhat puzzled: "How can I help you? My Death Divine Power and your Fire... are almost conflicting with each other."
"No, not conflicting." Mavuika shook his head, a strange glint flashing in his eyes: "On the contrary, the rules of the Resurrection Poem were able to awaken, to a large extent... because of you."
The Resurrection Poem only fully awakened after coming into contact with Hela's Death Divine Power, which made Mavuika realize that the power he brought from Teyvat might need to deeply integrate with the rules of this World to truly unleash its full might.
Just like the Source Fire within him, which currently can only display the burning and purifying power of Fire, while the abilities it originally possessed—molding life, carrying memories, condensing faith—are all bound by the rules of this World.
Perhaps only by letting the Source Fire completely fuse with the life-and-death order of the Nine Realms and the energy flow of the Irminsul can he unlock the full potential of the Source Fire, and even use this to develop Phlogiston in Asgard, taking the power level of the entire Divine Realm to the next level.