Chapter 186: The Heart Nerves of the Frost Giant King

"This place does look impressive, but using so much gold—it's a bit tacky, isn't it?"

As the group followed Thor and Frigga towards the Asgardian palace, they marveled at the architectural blend of advanced technology and mythological aesthetics surrounding them. Even Tony Stark, while visibly impressed, couldn't resist making a few snide remarks about the design's "flaws."

Passing through the central plaza, George noticed the massive corpse of Laufey, King of the Frost Giants, who had been killed by Loki’s betrayal.

The Frost Giants were a species capable of altering their size. In their natural state, they stood about 30 to 40 meters tall but could shrink themselves to human proportions when needed. Loki's abandonment stemmed from his congenital deformity, leaving him permanently human-sized.

When Laufey attempted to assassinate Odin, he had shrunk his size to infiltrate Asgard. After Loki ambushed and killed him, Laufey's body was discarded in the plaza, where it reverted to its full, towering form.

As they passed by, George discreetly used his magnetic control to send a blade into Laufey’s chest, extracting a small portion of heart nerves.

While Laufey had fallen victim to Loki's scheming, this didn't diminish his reputation as a formidable warrior—one who had blinded Odin in battle during his prime. Using Laufey’s heart nerves as a magical core would undoubtedly rival the effectiveness of Odin’s hair.

Upon entering the palace, the group was shown to an opulent chamber filled with lavish furnishings and a feast of exotic delicacies.

"George, you guys take a break here while I go with my mother to handle Loki’s situation," Thor said as he excused himself with Frigga.

As the rest of the group settled in, Bruce Banner, having fully recovered from the tickling charm, remarked, "It seems we were right. Asgard is indeed an extraterrestrial civilization far beyond Earth's technology. This proves there’s much about the universe we’ve yet to understand."

"That may not necessarily be a good thing," Tony replied, chewing on a strange Asgardian fruit. "The internal strife here and those giant popsicles running rampant suggest that while their technology is advanced, their mindset isn’t. This means they could pose a threat to Earth anytime they choose. We should start preparing for that possibility."

"By the way," Tony continued, slicing another piece of fruit with his claws, "these are amazing. I should ask Thor to send me some when we head back."

Tony added, "Maybe when we get home, I’ll talk to Hammer Tech about building some robotic soldiers, just in ca—"

"Absolutely not!" George cut him off before he could finish.

"Tony, you need to understand that robots are controlled by programming, and many alien civilizations possess technologies far superior to ours. If they hack your code, those robots you’re so proud of could instantly become Earth’s enemies. Or worse, a criminal could crack your system. We'd be in trouble even without alien interference."

George wasn’t about to let Tony head down the path that could birth Ultron—a program so misguided it nearly annihilated humanity. If such crises could be prevented, they should be.

"Every time someone tries to win a war before it even begins, it’s the innocent who end up paying the price," Steve Rogers chimed in. "History has shown us that again and again."

"Fine, fine. Don’t freak out. It was just an idea," Tony shrugged, turning his attention to the balcony where Asgardian ships zipped through the sky.

George, however, furrowed his brows.

Tony’s stubbornness often meant he wouldn't let go of an idea once it took root, even if others warned him against it. If the notion of building robotic soldiers had been planted, it was likely to surface again.

'Still, it might not be such a big deal,' George thought.

After all, the Ultron incident in the movies was triggered by Tony’s experiments with the Mind Stone, a resource currently out of reach. Without the psychological trauma of Loki’s invasion, Tony wouldn’t feel such an urgent need to act.

An hour later, Thor returned to their chamber.

"Father has awakened," Thor announced, "and he wishes to meet all of you personally to thank you for aiding Asgard."

"Awake already?" George blinked in surprise. In the movies, Odin wasn’t supposed to wake until the next day.

"Don’t tell me that crafty old fox has been pretending to sleep all along," George mused.

He recalled how Odin had seemingly woken at the exact moment the Bifrost Bridge shattered in the films. The timing had been too perfect.

If Loki hadn’t let go willingly, both he and Thor would have survived with the Bifrost only temporarily damaged. Asgard could have repaired it in time, while Odin would’ve reaped the benefit of a more mature Thor and a remorseful Loki.

'Still, Odin probably hadn’t anticipated Loki’s extreme reaction,' George thought.

As they followed Thor to the grand council hall, George pondered Odin's true nature.

Was Odin a benevolent ruler? Absolutely not.

His past campaigns with Hela to conquer the Nine Realms were built on bloodshed, and the golden splendor of Asgard was forged from those spoils. Later, he sealed Hela away and covered up the history of their conquests, even commissioning murals to paint a false narrative of peace.

Even the fake Infinity Gauntlet in Odin’s vault suggested he might have once sought the Stones himself but abandoned the pursuit for reasons unknown.

In the end, Odin’s transformation into a peacemaker was less about morality and more about legacy. With his time running out, he wanted to leave a stable kingdom behind, hoping Thor wouldn’t repeat his youthful warmongering.

"Still," George concluded, "none of that matters now. Regardless of Odin’s motives, we’ve done enough to earn his gratitude. Let’s see what he has to say."