Chapter 106: The Hammer of Thor, Mjölnir; He Who Draws the Sword from the Stone

But this is too strange.

On paper, Daxia, the nation that most favors concealment, has now revealed nine holders of Celestial Treasures, while those nations that venerate heroes have yet to expose even a single holder.

Aside from the actor who portrayed Iron Man after obtaining the Mark III armor, they don’t even know who among other nations holds any Celestial Treasure.

Excluding the possibility that they have no Celestial Treasure holders at all, the only remaining possibility is that these holders are concealing themselves.

It can’t even be that the nations themselves are hiding them.

Because if a nation were hiding them, it could simply conceal their strength and information—not erase all trace of their existence.

Unfathomable. Impossible to comprehend.

Surely there can’t be zero Celestial Treasure holders at all?

Bear Nation, Inner City.

Inside the thick-walled conference room, the atmosphere was so heavy it nearly suffocated.

“Daxia possesses two fifth-rank experts and one fourth-rank expert; according to our intelligence, the Celestial Treasure holders who previously ranked high on their transcendental list are about to break into the third rank.”

“They have the strongest and most numerous experts in the entire world!”

“Even Sakura has now produced two Celestial Treasure holders!”

“Though only one is a holder of a Celestial Character Template, the other’s talent is terrifying enough to have reached near fourth-rank power in a short time.”

“I don’t know whether other nations are concealing their strength.”

“But we—”

“Don’t have a single Celestial Treasure holder!”

“Bang!”

A broad palm slammed hard onto the table, sending ripples through the vodka in the glasses.

Viktor Kuznetsov’s eyes, as cold and hard as Siberian permafrost, swept over every person in the room.

“The Celestial Treasure is right there!”

“We were one of the first nations in the world to discover the Celestial Treasures!”

“Before Daxia’s old man Zhong Lao obtained the Rock King Emperor template, we had already found it!”

“The Hammer of Thor—Mjölnir—from the Marvel world!”

His voice was low and oppressive, yet grew increasingly furious as he spoke.

“As long as one is deemed worthy by Mjölnir, no matter which aspect of their humanity, they may lift it and gain the power of Thor!”

“But then!”

“Not a single one of our warriors has earned its recognition!”

“Could it be…”

“That our warriors have lost the heart of a warrior?”

The conference room fell utterly silent, save for heavy breathing rising and falling; outside, snow and wind battered the windows as if echoing the officer’s rage.

As Viktor said, Bear Nation was the very first nation in the world to discover the Celestial Treasures—indeed, the word “one of” could be removed.

When Mjölnir first awakened, it radiated torrents of thunderous light; though it later reined itself in, how could such an event have gone unnoticed?

They sealed the site immediately, then confirmed its identity as Mjölnir.

Only afterward did news emerge that Daxia’s old man Zhong Lao had obtained the Rock King Emperor template.

They had expected to produce a powerful warrior who could wield Mjölnir’s power, just as Daxia had; though they knew Mjölnir’s selection criteria were strict—only those with “righteous hearts and pure souls” could lift it.

But in truth, the condition for lifting Mjölnir was determined by Mjölnir itself—not by any rigid external standard.

Anyone whom Mjölnir deemed worthy could lift it; theoretically, this “deeming” could arise from any facet of one’s nature—if even one aspect of one’s humanity was recognized by Mjölnir, they might lift it.

Perhaps none among them possessed the amplified “goodness” of the Lighthouse Captain under the influence of the Super Soldier Serum, but they still believed their warriors were the finest in the world.

Yet what was the result? To this day, not a single one of them had lifted it.

How could anyone accept this? How could anyone not be furious?

A young warrior could no longer hold back:

“Sir, in the Marvel films, only the Lighthouse Captain and Thor’s girlfriend, besides Thor himself, were deemed worthy of Mjölnir.”

“The Lighthouse Captain need not be explained—Thor himself could lift it because he is Odin’s son, and his girlfriend could lift it only because of her connection to Thor.”

“So in reality, the only known condition for lifting Mjölnir is possessing the same heart as the Lighthouse Captain.”

“But how could such a fictional character possibly exist in reality?”

Regardless of what kind of person the Lighthouse Captain truly was, after being modified by the Super Soldier Serum, his “goodness” was amplified to an extreme—he was a man of “perfect kindness and purity,” and such a being would naturally be recognized by Mjölnir.

But how could such a person exist in reality?

Even the greatest warriors are still ordinary people, burdened with the seven emotions and six desires—arrogance, envy, rage, sloth, greed, gluttony, and lust all exist to some degree.

Unless they are children, still innocent and unaware—but how could a child become a warrior?

As for Thor himself and his girlfriend?

They need not be considered as reference.

Viktor stood, his towering figure casting a shadow across the conference table.

“Listen, everyone.”

His voice suddenly grew calm—yet more chilling than any roar.

“I accept no excuses.”

“Starting tomorrow, initiate the Thor Project.”

“Screen candidates nationwide—every single person will have the right to attempt lifting Mjölnir!”

“Whoever lifts Mjölnir shall become Bear Nation’s Thor!”

He swept his gaze over them all, speaking slowly, each word deliberate:

“Bear Nation will never lose to anyone.”

Outside, the blizzard grew fiercer.

The Empire That Never Sets.

Upon ancient rock, a weathered longsword stood motionless, half-buried in stone, as if enduring a thousand years of wind and rain, yet still gleaming with icy brilliance.

“Proclaim to the nation—”

The solemn voice echoed across the square; countless knights knelt on one knee, their armor clashing like thunder.

“Whoever draws the Sword in the Stone shall become the new King Arthur!”

Gallic Rooster.

In an ancient church, a maiden in silver armor knelt silently before the altar, hands clasped.

Her golden hair cascaded like a waterfall, glowing with a holy radiance in the sunlight; she knelt before the sacred statue, clutching a tattered flag tightly in both hands.

“Lord…”

Her voice was soft, echoing through the empty church.

“If this is your will…”

Brilliant white light poured down from the dome, enveloping her entirely.

The tattered flag in her hands, now spotless, stirred without wind under the holy radiance.

“Joan of Arc, I vow to fight once more for this nation.”

The light upon the flag grew brighter, until it erupted into a pillar of radiance, piercing the dome and exploding into a brilliant cross-shaped starburst in the sky.

(End of Chapter)