It was as if ti itself had lost aning in Nidavellir.
After that, the entire Ring-World fell into an unprecedented frenzy of work. Every dwarf—regardless of rank—stopped whatever they were doing and gathered around the colossal central forge, devoting everything to the casting of an artifact the likes of which had never been seen before.
And the conductor of this casting was Lucci, the newly worshiped "God of Forging."
The one doing the actual work was the dwarf king, Eitri.
It was a breathtakingly harmonious sight.
Lucci simply stood to the side, speaking only occasionally, pointing out the most crucial steps in the briefest possible words. anwhile, Eitri—who had lived and forged for thousands of years—now looked like the most obedient and devout disciple, taking every one of Lucci's "oracles" as guidance and carrying them out with ticulous care.
The first step of forging was refining the Uru.
When Eitri followed Lucci's "Uru Dinsional Ascension Formula," throwing materials so rare they could drive cosmic collectors mad into the furnace, then forging them within that specific "Seventh Waveband"…
A miracle occurred.
The original dark-silver Uru tal slurry absorbed the rare elents. After being irradiated by that specific energy band, it seed as if higher-dinsional information had been injected into its internal structure.
The tal began to glow—deep and vast, like a starry sky.
Eitri could clearly feel that the "weight" and "essence" of this cauldron of liquid tal had undergone an earthshaking change!
It was no longer re matter, but sothing akin to a "carrier of the Path," bearing laws upon itself.
When the Uru Dinsional Ascension cooled and took form, Eitri gently tapped it. That sharp, lodious sound felt as if it pierced straight through his soul, and he wept with excitent.
He knew a brand-new holy material—one that surpassed the old age by far—had been born in his hands!
Next ca shaping and engraving.
With peerless skill, Eitri forged the divine alloy into the form of Lucci's newly redesigned axe blade. Every hamr strike, every fold, carried thousands of years of experience and insight.
At the crucial mont, Lucci moved.
Guided by divine thought, he engraved imnsely complex spatial runes into the red-hot axe blade without a single mistake. The runes were like living creatures, carved deep into the structure of the tal's laws, perfectly rging with the blade.
The creation of the axe handle was another miracle.
Wood cut from the oldest branch of the World Tree seed to awaken once more under Lucci's "Life-Energy Affinity Array."
It was no longer dead. It radiated vitality—erald-green life energy could be seen slowly flowing within.
The instant the axe blade and handle fused perfectly, it felt as if ti itself had stopped.
"The final step," Lucci's voice sounded calm. "Use the essence of lightning to open its spirit."
Eitri took a deep breath, knowing the most important mont had arrived.
He raised the forming battle axe high, and under the guidance of the neutron star's energy above Nidavellir, aid it at the heart of the raging energy storm.
"Boom!"
At the command, a golden thunderbolt—thicker than mountain ranges, long accumulated—crashed down from the sky and cleaved violently into the axe!
In that instant, all of Nidavellir trembled!
A terrifying, indescribable energy exploded outward, centered on the battle axe. A pillar of power—mixed with thunder, lightning, and brilliant starlight—shot into the heavens, tearing apart the energy layer above Nidavellir and piercing into the endless deep space beyond!
Within that pillar was the sharpness to cleave space, the weight of boundless life, and the wrath that commanded storm and thunder.
Three distinct forces—yet perfectly integrated—entwined, playing a hymn of destruction and creation.
Every dwarf was overwheld. They stared at the battle axe suspended in the thunder with eyes full of fear, as if facing an awakened ancient demon god.
Eitri bore the brunt of it. He gripped the axe handle so hard his arms nearly tore under the violent power. Exhausting all his divine strength, he barely managed to hold onto the god-axe.
After a long ti, the pillar of light scattered, and the thunder faded.
A new weapon hung quietly in Eitri's hands.
It reflected a deep, black starry sky. On the blade, it seed as if hundreds of millions of stars flickered and danced. Along the axe body, the spatial runes Lucci had engraved pulsed and shimred like breathing, releasing a heart-throbbing distortion of space.
And the axe handle—made from a World Tree branch—glowed with an erald-green halo of life, brimming with vitality.
Trembling, Eitri clutched the axe to his chest.
Within it, he sensed a power far beyond Thor's hamr, Mjolnir!
This was an essential transcendence.
Mjolnir's power was "guidance." This battle axe's power was "creation" and "destruction"!
He knew this was no longer an ordinary "artifact."
Before it, whether it was the Eternal Spear or Thor's hamr, both seed to hide in its shadow.
This alone was enough to suppress an era and carve its na into the history of cosmic myth—
The King of Artifacts!
"We succeeded… We did it!"
Eitri cried from overwhelming excitent. Holding the battle axe step by step as if cradling his most precious child, he approached Lucci with difficulty.
He knelt on one knee, raised the axe high over his head, and spoke in the most devout, fanatical tone.
"Your Highness! Please…"
"Tell us the na of this unprecedented artifact—born from you, and belonging to you!"
In the eyes of Eitri and every dwarf, the King of Artifacts naturally belonged to the "God of Forging" who created it—Lucci.
But Lucci rely glanced faintly at the battle axe—one that could drive any god mad—his expression calm to the point of being almost imperceptible…
Disgust?
"My artifact?"
His voice was steady, yet the words he spoke froze the souls of Eitri and every dwarf.
"No."
"This Stormbreaker is indeed powerful, but I don't like bulky weapons."
Lucci's gaze passed over the axe, toward the distant starry sky—like he was contemplating sothing even grander.
"Give it to Thor. He'll like it."
The words fell, and all of Nidavellir sank into deathly silence.
Eitri knelt there, holding the axe aloft, frozen solid.
He… what did he just hear?
"Make do"?
This "King of Artifacts" was, in this prince's eyes, rely sothing he could "make do" with?!
…and he wanted to hand it to Prince Thor?
In an instant, the hearts of Eitri and all the dwarves were seized by a terrifying thought.
If even an artifact that defied the heavens was only "sothing to make do with" in his eyes…
Then what kind of artifact did he truly want to forge?
How destructive—how unimaginable—would it be?
…
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