Marvel: My Sign-in System

Surtur's ideas were undoubtedly naïve.

Even if Surtur and Leon joined forces to destroy Asgard, an aging Odin alone could still counter them to the limit.

Not to mention, the Hall of Valor housed many formidable warriors.

From the very beginning, Leon's strategic goal had always been to establish a good relationship with Asgard.

After all, he was also interested in studying the Hall of Heroes—one of the few things in the universe that remained unaffected by the Infinity Gauntlet, even when all six Infinity Stones were gathered. Such an existence was invaluable.

As for Surtur's surrender? To be honest, Leon didn't care.

A Sky Father-level subordinate was certainly tempting, but it was far less important than maintaining his "friendship" with Asgard. The choice was simple.

Even if he rejected Surtur, what of it?

The Eternal Flame, the source of Surtur's power, was already in his hands.

At a predetermined point in the future, restoring Surtur wouldn't be difficult. Even if it came to using genetic technology, modifying Surtur's will at the genetic level would be a simple task.

However, such a method was too domineering. The angelic civilization, under Holy Keisha's rules, did not permit it. Not that Leon was particularly bound by order.

At the core of everything, his ultimate goal was to strengthen himself, to become the supreme god of the universe—one beyond the reach of any threat. If that meant taking actions that seemed unreasonable, so be it.

Leon had moral principles, but they were flexible.

When it came to those he cherished, he upheld strict principles and high morals, even at the cost of abandoning necessary objectives.

But was Surtur among those he valued?

Clearly not.

So would forcibly altering Surtur's genetic will and stamping an ideological imprint be justified?

As long as the construction of the new Sky Blade battleship was completed and he had sufficient computing power, he would personally oversee Surtur's transformation.

It was only a matter of time.

Faced with Surtur's attempted persuasion, Leon turned toward Thor and the gathered Asgardians and declared righteously:

"Odin and I stood together in the atrium, under his witness, bathed in the light of friendship. We will always be friends. We will never betray each other. You? You are nothing more than a demon born of lava."

"You don't understand the rarity of true friendship."

"Odin led Asgard in its conquests, trading blood for glory, securing peace for countless years, and bringing order to the Nine Realms."

"Your attempt to destroy Asgard would plunge the Nine Realms into chaos. You want to deceive me into betraying my friendship? Surtur, you should go to hell."

"But mercy prevents me from doing that to you."

"So I swear to you, Surtur: You will remain in Muspelheim for eternity, never again possessing the power to wage war."

With those words, Leon grabbed the enraged Surtur by the neck and hurled him into the distance.

Bang!!

Golden flames trailed behind Surtur as he streaked across the battlefield like a meteor, crashing into the depths of Muspelheim.

Boom!

He landed within his massive cave—his domain—slamming directly onto his own throne.

Surtur slumped against the throne, the Twilight Sword embedded in the ground before him. A surge of anger and unwillingness burned within him, nearly overwhelming his mind.

He looked up and let out a furious roar.

"I will curse you forever, man of Midgard! Your friendships will shatter! You will turn on each other! You will drive your swords into one another's chests! Your heads will roll! You will drown in blood and hatred, never knowing peace!"

His curses echoed through the cavern, stirring up dark energies.

But no matter how much he roared, his words carried no true curse.

With Surtur's power once again stripped from him, the flame demons on the battlefield—born from his very will—lost their lives.

The demon army crumbled.

And with Surtur's power sealed away, the war against Muspelheim had come to an end.

Though Asgard's millions of warriors felt that the battle had ended somewhat anticlimactically, it did nothing to dampen their joy.

The battlefield erupted in cheers.

"Victory! Hahahaha!"

"Asgard triumphs! Odin triumphs! Thor triumphs!"

"Hahaha! Did you see that fight? Our friend from Midgard took down the fire giant Surtur! He was unstoppable!"

"We won! Yo-ho~~"

Weapons clashed against shields in a rhythmic beat, a resounding song of victory.

Amid the celebrations, Leon casually ensured Surtur's subjugation before vanishing in a burst of golden light.

An instant later, he reappeared before Thor and the other gods.

Awaiting him was an enthusiastic welcome—cheers, admiration, and eager eyes filled with respect.

Leon's display had deeply moved these not-so-bright warriors.

Especially the goddess of strength, Sif. Her dark eyes shimmered as she looked at Leon, nearly misty with emotion.

Of course, for Leon, someone like Natasha or Wanda—fair-skinned and radiant—was far more to his liking.

"Leon! We must drink to this victory!"

"Your deeds will forever be remembered by the people of Asgard!"

Thor's booming voice echoed across the hall as he clapped Leon on the shoulder.

Faced with the eager eyes of Thor and the gods, Leon naturally didn't refuse. His agreement only made the Asgardians cheer even louder.

The return to Asgard was smooth—without incident. Leon opened a massive portal, allowing everyone to return home with ease.

This war had unfolded quite differently than expected.

With Natasha, Wanda, and Sergei by his side, Leon had initially prepared for a hard-fought battle.

Instead, it had turned into a decisive, almost effortless victory.