Chapter 40

He saw countless black specks of people rushing toward where the lightning had gone out.

It was time to move.

He told himself.

Unlike the stories that had spread around, fighting these beasts from beyond the stars was far from easy.

Not only did they spew flames, but soldiers poured from their hulls like a tide.

What let them pillage across the cosmos had never been merely their enormous bodies.

Aside from a select few, everyone else's attacks striking the ships were like pebbles dropped into a deep pool.

Even those few were struggling now.

Thor was surrounded on the deck. **

Arcs of electricity danced around him. Every burst sent a ring of enemies flying, but more immediately rushed in to fill the gaps.

His heavy breathing blended with the shriek of energy and the clash of metal.

"Need a hand?"

Stark's usual flippant tone came through the comms.

"Now... is not the time for wisecracks!"

Thor roared back, exhaustion buried in his voice.

He gathered his divine power once more. Blinding lightning exploded, violently hurling more than a dozen nearby black shadows away.

Yet the opening vanished in an instant. More enemies pounced on him, and before he even had a chance to curse, his vision was completely swallowed by densely packed alien warriors.

Thor's body was far stronger than an ordinary human's. The attacks of those alien soldiers could not even pierce his skin.

** thundered overhead.

Dozens of miniature missiles exploded across the beast-like warship's hull. Thor staggered several steps from the blast wave, and a layer of dust coated his armor.

"No need to thank me."

Tony Stark's voice followed the gold-and-red armor as it streaked past.

The next second, countless points of light flared across the warship's belly.

Energy beams poured down like a torrential rain.

Stark was hit and slammed into a distant building. The wall shattered, and smoke and dust billowed everywhere.

Fortunately, his armor absorbed most of the impact, while the internal shock-absorption system hummed away.

"We need to find a way to deal with these things."

Steve Rogers's tense voice came through the communication channel.

"Another one?"

The channel was instantly flooded with curses.

The two in front of them had yet to be dealt with, but the shadow of a third was already pressing down over the city's skyline.

The alien legion's offensive seemed to have reached its limit as well. No new warships emerged from the rift.

"Thor, can you and Hulk handle one?"

The God of Thunder tightened his grip on the hammer's handle, his muscles tensing as he tried to summon the sleeping power within him—only to feel a hollow weakness.

The continuous battle had long since drained his divine power dry. Even his hammer felt heavy.

"I can't,"

he admitted between breaths. "My strength is exhausted. I need time to recover."

Everyone fell silent.

From the beginning of the battle, Thor had been the pillar of their defense, even holding the rift in the Portal passage on his own.

Now that they had lost that fighting strength, despair surged into everyone's hearts like a tide.

If they could not destroy those two giant warships, they would likely lose this battle.

The entire city might vanish completely in the next moment.

The metal whales hovered in the air, and attacks from small weapons could not even pierce their outer layers.

The soldiers tightened their grips on their guns.

How were they supposed to deal with this next?

Golden light tore through the sky without warning.

Several people in combat suits narrowed their eyes at the same time.

The air seemed to freeze.

Only the green figure continued throwing punches, each impact echoing dully.

The colossal creature beneath his feet split in half without warning.

The green figure waved his arms as he fell downward.

At that same instant, the other metal whale shattered into fragments.

"What exactly was that?"

The man holding the hammer sounded utterly bewildered.

"Some kind of high-density energy beam."

"The readings have already... completely exceeded the measurable range."

The man in the gold-and-red armor stared at the flashing display before him.

The curve on the detector had long since broken past its limit.

If it were converted—

The energy contained in that beam of light was enough to restart his reactor ten times.

He opened his mouth, but could not form a complete sound.

This made no sense at all.

His reactor could light up half a city's night sky every second.

Yet that fleeting golden line, if released slowly, could support an entire country for dozens of days and nights.

"Have you ever seen anything like it?"

He turned to ask the hammer-wielding man.

Thor's voice came from above.

The sound of metal combat boots crushing rubble drew closer.

Tony Stark's faceplate flipped open, revealing eyes filled with confusion.

He stared at the plainly dressed young man before him, as though trying to dig some mechanical structure or hidden device out of the other's calm expression.

"That energy beam just now..."

Tony's fingertips unconsciously tapped against the casing of the reactor on his chest. "Was that you?"

The young man did not answer the question.

His gaze passed over Tony's shoulder toward the increasingly sparse wreckage of aircraft in the distance.

The smell of smoke mixed with ozone entered his nostrils, making him frown slightly.

Thor's landing stirred up a gust of wind.

His hand tightened around the hammer's handle, then loosened. "Asgardians remember every act of aid."

His jaw was set straight as he spoke, as though he was unused to using such a tone. "Though I do not understand when Midgardians mastered such power."

"I just happened to be nearby."

The young man finally spoke, his voice devoid of emotion.

As he turned, the hem of his trench coat swept over the scorched blades of grass.

"Wait."

Tony stepped forward, the joints of his armor letting out the characteristic hiss of hydraulics. "What's the principle? Energy conversion efficiency?" His speech grew faster and faster, as though he were trying to weave a net out of questions.

The young man stopped, but did not turn around. "Some things need no principle, Mr. Stark."

The wind scattered his voice slightly. "Just as some wars need no medals."

Thor suddenly looked up.

Light leaking through a gap in the clouds fell right on the fresh scrape at the corner of his eye. "Are you going to the battlefield?"

"Another battlefield."

The instant those words ended, the young man's figure began to fade.

He did not vanish. Rather, he melted into the air like fading ink.

Tony instinctively raised his hand. The blue glow of his repulsor had just lit up before going out—the target was already gone.

The last thing to disappear was those eyes.

Tony remembered their color. They were the gray of the sea before a storm.

"He mentioned will."

Tony muttered as his faceplate sealed shut again with a faint metallic click.

The display showed readings of residual energy, its curves impossibly sharp.

Thor swung his hammer, and several sparks fell from its head to the ground. "My father once said that some powers lie beyond the understanding of the Nine Realms."

He paused, then added, "But they still warrant caution."

A dull crash of collapsing buildings sounded in the distance.

The two turned at the same time and saw the last few Chitauri aircraft trailing black smoke as they fell toward the Hudson River.

The spray exploding across the water gleamed with the oil-slick iridescence unique under the setting sun.

Tony suddenly laughed. The sound came through his external speakers, distorted in the way electronic equipment always was. "You know, I really want a drink right now."

He said, "Then I want to dismantle JARVIS's logic module—it actually suggested that I 'accept the possibility that supernatural phenomena exist.'"

Thor did not laugh.

He looked at the patch of open ground where the young man had vanished. There was a scorched mark there, shaped like some rune he had never seen before.

"Let's go."

In the end, he said, "Our battle isn't over yet."

But before turning away, the God of Thunder looked at the sky once more.

The clouds were closing, swallowing even that last trace of light.

He remembered the expression on the young man's face when he left—not exhaustion, nor the joy of victory, but something heavier.

As though he carried invisible stars upon his back.

** The captain's voice came from behind him.

**

"What is it?"

Zhao Yu turned around.

"Join us."

There was a burning anticipation in that voice. "With your abilities, you can absolutely stand with us and protect this world."

"Sorry,"

Zhao Yu answered without hesitation. "I don't have such lofty ambitions.

Keep up the good work."

He took a step, then paused for a moment and added over his shoulder, "Oh, and you'd better subdue Loki and close that Portal as soon as possible.

The Chitauri... they have a mothership."

As soon as the words fell, he turned and left.

The expressions of those left behind changed abruptly.

The landing ships had already exhausted them. If the mothership descended... there was no need to think further. What a thing called a "mothership" represented was self-evident.

The temperature in the air seemed to drop several degrees at once.

Having finally shaken off those figures, Zhao Yu raced through the streets with several mages.

The defensive formation of the New York Sanctum had already fully activated—a system constructed around the planet's magical power nodes, a pinnacle of magical wisdom.

Under its coverage, long-range Portals could not be opened. Only short-range passages could barely be maintained.

Otherwise, he could have stepped straight into the Sanctum.

Chitauri soldiers were everywhere along the way.

Zhao Yu did not detour. He passed straight through them, leaving only silence in his wake.

The mages following behind him had nearly lost the ability to think. They simply moved their feet on instinct, as though invisible strings were pulling them along.

The doors of the Sanctum closed before them.

"Why did you only get here now?"

A voice came from ahead.

By the time Zhao Yu crossed the threshold, Wong had already risen and come over to meet him.

Dark gray shadows lay beneath Wong's eyes, and his movements carried a touch of stiffness.

Several dark red marks stained the hem of his dark robe, as though something sharp had cut through it. Dried blood could faintly be seen along the torn edges of the fabric—it seemed that the struggle in the Mirror Dimension had taken far more out of him than it appeared.

"Sorry, I ran into a small roaming squad of Star-Tail Beasts on the way and was delayed for a moment."

Zhao Yu lowered his voice, his gaze sweeping over the damage to Wong's robe. "I've already escorted Master Kamidar to the safe zone."

Wong nodded and tapped his knuckles against the table. "Well done."

Pulling someone out of the chaotic ruins of Manhattan, where stray fire could send one flying at any moment, had already exceeded expectations.

But he changed the subject, with no intention of letting Zhao Yu rest. "The pressure on the front line is considerable. I'll have to trouble you to make another trip."

The corner of Zhao Yu's mouth twitched slightly, forming a somewhat restrained smile. "Of course."

The entrance to the Mirror Dimension opened silently behind him.

When Zhao Yu stepped into that realm shrouded in twisted light, the bones throughout his body seemed to loosen—at last, he could wield his magic without restraint.

Beyond the Portal, the sight of the battlefield slammed straight into view.

The sky was packed with densely clustered aircraft, their metal shells gleaming with a cold blue sheen beneath the dim light.

On the scorched earth below, wreckage and fragments lay piled upon one another, leaving the original terrain almost unrecognizable.

Beams formed by magic intertwined and collided with the Chitauri's laser fire in midair, flashes erupting one after another at such a rapid frequency that it was almost impossible to keep one's eyes open.

There was no sun, yet the entire space was illuminated by countless energy bombardments, more blinding than noon outside.

Zhao Yu landed directly at the very front of the battlefield.

Less than twenty meters from his feet, more than a dozen whale-shaped warships hovered in the air, dark crimson flames pulsing from the bellies of those massive constructs.

Dozens of mages gathered together, using their magic to jointly uphold a translucent barrier. Artillery fire struck it and sent ripples spreading across its surface, making even the air hum with the tremors.

Zhao Yu landed among the crowd, and at first, no one noticed him.

Until he rose from the ground beneath his feet and flew straight toward the outside of the barrier.

Several mages' expressions changed at once, their voices bursting out despite themselves.

"Are you crazy—there's a laser fire net out there!"

"Come back!"

Zhao Yu did not look back, nor did he slow down.

His figure passed through the edge of the barrier like a pebble thrown into boiling lava.

The robed figures below looked up at the sky, their pupils nearly shrinking to pinpoints.

Their breaths caught in their throats, and none of them managed to let out a complete gasp.

Zhao Yu did not wait for them to speak.

His hand was already raised.

The spell known as the Vishanti Chains sprang from his fingertips like a wisp of crushed golden sunlight.

The light tore through the air so quickly that its path did not even leave an afterimage on the human retina.

Immediately afterward, dozens of Chitauri—bioweapons encased in alien alloy armor—lost their balance one after another.

Hole after hole appeared in their armor, the edges as smooth as melted wax.

When the other mages attacked those enemies with all their might, they could at most leave a few cracks on the surface of their armor.

But Zhao Yu's strike pierced straight through the chests of more than a dozen targets.