Chapter 734: Symphony of Victory (Part 2) (Patreon)

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A bird flew across the sunset sky, turning the grand and magnificent city on the horizon into a dark silhouette.

The scenery of Asgard was always more majestic and splendid. This city, suspended in the realm of Space, appeared lonely yet dazzlingly bright in the sunset light.

The people living in Asgard had a fondness for soaking in the baths after exhilarating fights in the martial arts arena. The royal family was no exception, though their baths were more luxurious.

The World Tree core, a mysterious space accessible only to the Asgardian royalty, wasn’t a place for prayer but for bathing.

The World Tree wasn’t a real tree. The Nine Realms were merely leaves on its branches, and at its core was a verdant space with meadows and forests, and a steaming hot spring bubbling at its heart.

At this moment, Schiller, Loki, and Strange were soaking in the hot spring.

Strange pulled a floating wooden board towards him, laden with fresh fruits. He bit into a spiky fruit, shuddering from its tartness.

Schiller sipped his wine, resting his head against a cool stone at the edge of the spring, a contented sigh escaping him as he felt drowsy.

“Best stay awake, falling asleep in the hot spring is not a good habit,” Loki cautioned.

He drew a fruit platter towards himself, cutting a fruit into pieces with divine power and skewering a piece with a silver fork, disdainfully eyeing Strange, who was eating directly.

“How did you manage to close such a tough deal suddenly?” Loki asked Schiller, curious, “I have a difficult client myself and could use your experience.”

“What client has you troubled?... Anyway, if you want him to open a window for you, blow off his roof. Then, he’ll be more than happy to have you over.”

Loki nodded thoughtfully, seemingly gaining insight. He quickly asked, “What’s your business with All-Father?”

“Just curiosity,” Loki added.

“I want to strike a deal with him. Believe me, he’ll be interested,” Schiller said, smiling.

Loki looked curious, unsure of Schiller’s confidence that Odin would be interested in his deal.

Despite Loki’s probing, Schiller remained tight-lipped. They stayed in the hot spring until nightfall, and when they returned to the Celestial Palace, most of the goddesses and guards were already resting.

After a night’s rest in the guest room of the Celestial Palace, Grey Mist informed Schiller in the morning that his cell vitality had significantly improved. If he were a mere mortal, his lifespan would have increased by at least fifty years. Even as a non-mortal, the mist factor had become more active.

In the morning, royal attendants guided Schiller to All-Father Odin’s palace.

Odin sat on his throne, appearing casual and relaxed, more like an ordinary old man than a god-king.

“Hello, Lord Odin,” Schiller greeted.

“I am no longer the god-king. They call me father because they are Asgardians. You can call me Odin,” Odin responded, his voice casual.

“You seem pleased with the new god-king,” Schiller remarked, smiling. Odin smiled back and said, “I hear you have business with me. Remember, not just anyone can trade with Asgard.”

“Even Death, a great entity, refers to you as one of the strongest beings in Space when mentioning Asgard…”

Odin stiffened, “You’ve met Death?”

“Yes, I’ve been to her realm and struck a deal with her.”

“You lie. To my knowledge, Death no longer deals individually,” Odin said bluntly.

“Yes, but there have been more changes. For instance, the Hall of Heroes in this Space has stricter limits, and the number of resurrections has decreased, right?” Schiller asked.

Odin narrowed his eyes, “What’s this deal you speak of?”

Schiller produced a contract, its aura of Death even more potent than the token controlling the Hall of Heroes.

“I’ve signed a contract with Death. There’s a loophole in it, which is why I’m here.”

Odin perused the contract and asked, “What loophole?”

“It’s not race-specific. Resurrections could be human or Asgardian.”

“I don’t have many to resurrect on Earth, but I could sell these slots to Asgard. You need it more for your space warfare losses. I’m willing to sell half of my quota.”

“What do you want in return?” Odin asked directly.

"Let's discuss this matter later. Does Asgard have the willingness to trade with me?" Schiller inquired.

Odin pondered for a moment. Schiller was right; since the tightening of the Resurrection conditions, Asgard's Hall of Heroes had become virtually redundant. Even though Asgardians had long lifespans, being able to resurrect only three individuals every decade was practically no different from having no such ability at all.

Indeed, Asgard had gradually reduced its wars. However, guarding the Nine Realms was perilous. More importantly, once the diminished glory of the Hall of Heroes became known, it would undoubtedly cause panic.

After some thought, Odin nodded and said, "Resurrection is of great importance to Asgardians. State your terms."

A few hours later, in the Celestial Palace's garden, Loki, playing chess with Strange, asked with a puzzled look, "What exactly are they discussing? Why is it taking so long?"

"I guess they're haggling over the price," Strange replied, placing a chess piece down.

Just then, footsteps rustled from behind the bushes, and Loki, turning his head, saw Schiller approaching.

With a smile on his face, Schiller appeared very pleased. Loki approached and asked, "It seems the negotiation went smoothly?"

"Correct, the deal is struck, and I believe the results will be seen soon."

Seeing Schiller's smile, both Loki and Strange sensed that someone was about to face misfortune.

The next day, a typhoon swept through New York. The howling wind outside contrasted with Schiller's deep slumber inside. A breeze drifted through a crack in the window, not cold but soon overshadowed by a more piercing sound. The Obelisk in the cabinet began to vibrate intensely.

Schiller's ears twitched, clearly hearing the noise, but he simply turned over, pulling the blanket over his head, and continued to sleep. It was unusual for him to stay in bed past 7 a.m., but the stormy weather was perfect for sleeping, and he had no intention of getting up.

After vibrating for an hour, the Obelisk fell to the floor and started to move wildly as Schiller woke from his dream. Bending down and grabbing the Obelisk, Schiller revealed a brilliantly rotten smile, then placed it back in its original spot.

By noon, Schiller went to the S.H.I.E.L.D. cafeteria for lunch and to casually chat with Steve, observing his recovery from anxiety.

"Doctor, I'm really better! Didn't the numerous checks over the past week confirm that?" Steve said while eating steak.

"Yes, but further observation is necessary. You haven't changed environments, and certain things might still trigger your anxiety. Be vigilant," Schiller advised.

Steve nodded, then looked at Schiller with curiosity, "Actually, I've been meaning to ask, Dr. Schiller, what is that by your side? A sculpture? Why does it keep trembling?"

Schiller smiled but remained silent.

In the afternoon, at Stark Tower's lab, Stark, impatient during his check-up, exclaimed, "I told you I'm fine! I'm not like Steve. You should really check his brain!"

"Your physical data shows everything is normal, except your brain activity is somewhat excessive," Schiller noted, looking at the medical report.

Stark sighed, "Of course, because you're only good for screwing in light bulbs, so naturally, your brainwaves don't move much. Please, I'm a scientist conducting research. My knowledge could save the Earth. Of course, it's active!"

"Alright, nothing else then... Oh, what are you looking at?" Schiller followed Stark's gaze to the Obelisk beside him, still vibrating.

"What's this new oddity you've come up with?" Stark frowned, eyeing the peculiar item.

"It's my mobile phone," Schiller said with a smile, not elaborating further.

That evening, when Peter arrived at Arkham Sanatorium, he too looked at the strange sculpture on Schiller's desk. Before he could ask, Schiller remarked, "This is a mobile phone."

"But why is it ringing?"

"It's playing music."

"What music?"

"The Symphony of Victory!"

In the boundless space, within a darker galaxy, on a dark planet with vast palaces, Thanos slowly opened his eyes. In his dream, he saw his beautiful beloved again.

Perhaps his longing for her was too intense; her wonderful voice once again echoed in his ears. Thanos knew she wanted him to spread death.

As he rose to arrange a war, suddenly, Thanos realized something was off with Death's voice.

Listening intently, he heard a collapsing female voice:

"Find that bastard Schiller! Make him answer the phone!"

The color drained from Thanos's face.

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 735: Peril, Thanos, Peril (Part 1)