Bifrost teleportation was not a simple spatial jump, but closer to a process of breaking matter down into pure energy and then reassembling it at the destination.
During teleportation, ordinary Asgardian would feel dizziness and weightlessness. But Lucci, within this torrent of colorful energy, was like a fish in water.
His Great Cosmos Meditation Method operated automatically. Even while moving at high speed, his soul could clearly perceive the folds created in space and the traces of cosmic laws passing by. For him, this journey was not a burden—it was a short surf through new laws.
When the vivid colors before him vanished, unspeakable heat and weight pressed onto his face.
Lucci appeared atop a platform made of unknown metal. He opened his eyes and observed this new world with interest.
There was no sky, no ground, no sun, no moon.
Before him was a spectacle that would stun any first-time visitor.
At the center of his vision was a star.
A dying neutron star near the end of its lifespan!
It wasn't large, but the light and heat it radiated were hundreds of millions of times hotter than Asgard's midday sun. Terrifying energy streams erupted from its surface like golden tidal waves, sweeping in all directions without pause.
Even more unsettling was its invisible gravity—so intense that even light visibly distorted, forming a strange halo.
Nidavellir itself was a vast ring world formed around that orbit, with the neutron star at its center. Countless gigantic metal structures, pipelines, and platforms formed a ringed world of endless scale.
Innumerable dwarves moved through this colossal forge like diligent workers. Their ships traveled between rings, bringing ore from distant galaxies, forging relics that would be sent to the far corners of the universe.
This was the cosmic blacksmith's shop—the armory of gods!
It was rough and primal, filled with the laws of creation and destruction intertwined in collision—laws of matter, energy, and gravity… Unlike Asgard, where the World Tree combed and regulated reality, Nidavellir presented these laws to Lucci in a more savage, direct manner.
An Asgardian who came here would feel extreme discomfort, like an ordinary person entering a high-pressure boiler room. Terrifying gravity would crush bones; fierce radiation would scorch divine flesh.
But Lucci stood on the platform and, far from feeling discomfort, took a deep breath and looked almost pleased.
"Truly incredible… a comfortable energy environment."
His Great Cosmos Meditation Method now advanced at an unprecedented speed. The neutron star's deadly radiation felt like the warmest winter sunshine, heating his limbs and bones. The terrifying gravitational field didn't press him down—rather, it brought a marvelous resonance, as if every cell were cheering.
The Origin True Fire Marvelous Art activated at once, creating an intimacy between the original true fire within him and the neutron star's core flame—as if they came from the same source.
Within the neutron star, he could clearly "see" the most extreme energy reactions in the universe. Countless materials compressed to the limit; nuclei were squeezed tight, releasing unimaginable energy.
"Using a neutron star as the core, absorbing its energy to forge… dwarven wisdom has its own uniqueness."
Lucci made a precise evaluation in his heart. Starlight flowed in his eyes as if countless data streams were flickering.
He was already beginning to analyze the laws of this world's structure—gravity, radiation, material composition, energy forms… All of it became the most basic lines and symbols in his vision, and he quickly understood, absorbed, and summarized them.
He was certain he'd come to the right place.
Here, another key to transforming his power system was hidden.
As Lucci immersed himself in sensing the neutron star's might, heavy rhythmic footsteps approached from afar.
"Welcome to Nidavellir, Prince of Asgard!"
A loud, rugged voice rang out.
Lucci withdrew his gaze, calmly turned, and looked toward the speaker.
It was a dwarf—not even half Lucci's height—yet with an extraordinarily powerful build. His left arm had been replaced with a metal prosthetic armor; his thick red beard hung to his chest in three heavy braids.
His eyes were sharp and proud, as if all things in the world existed only to be forged in his gaze.
This was the dwarf king and greatest craftsman in the universe:
Eitri.
At Eitri's side followed several dwarf guards carrying massive warhammers. They stared at Lucci with undisguised curiosity.
Lucci's gaze lingered on Eitri for a moment, noticing the imposing power within him—like a dormant volcano—and the forging aura that seemed fused with this ring world itself.
"King Eitri," Lucci said, giving a slight nod, tone calm.
This composure made Eitri slightly surprised.
Eitri's pride ran to the bone. In the Nine Realms, only Odin and the ancient gods of old had ever begged him to forge weapons. Thor's hammer Mjolnir and the Eternal Spear Gungnir had all come from him and his people.
Thus, he had absolute confidence in his craft.
This time, to welcome Asgard's mysterious Fourth Prince, Eitri had given Odin ample face. Odin's message praised the prince highly, brimming with uncontrollable pride—something that made Eitri faintly dissatisfied.
But when he saw Lucci in person, his curiosity quickly turned into a kind of… disappointment.
Too young.
Too "thin."
Lucci's bearing was noble and deep, but to Eitri—who dealt with dwarves strong as mountains—this Asgardian looked like an unripe bean sprout.
His skin was pale and smooth, without a single mark sharpened by flame or metal shavings. His hands were clean and slender—hands meant to play a harp and write hymns, not to wield a ten-thousand-ton hammer and forge divine metal in a star's core.
"An Asgardian little…" Eitri muttered inwardly, but kept a polite host's smile.
"Odin said you are the greatest genius Asgard has seen in a thousand years. Seeing you today… I do feel you are extraordinary."
His voice boomed like a bell, but his sharp eyes hid a faint trace of disdain.
In his view, Asgardians were born warriors and sorcerers. They knew how to fight with beautiful stances, and also how to showy-display their art.
But before this ancient and heavy craft of forging, they were complete amateurs.
Lucci saw through Eitri's thoughts naturally—and didn't care.
Why would an eagle care about an ant's opinion?
Calmly, he replied, "King Eitri overpraises me. I came this time to observe Nidavellir's forging techniques."
Hearing that, superiority rose again in Eitri's heart.
Observe?
In nicer words, wasn't he just here to watch a show?
Eitri could already imagine the little Asgardian prince's shocked expression upon seeing the neutron star's might and the forging of immortal uru.
"Hah! No problem! Of course!"
Eitri laughed heartily, pounding his solid chest with a muffled bang-bang.
"We dwarves are the kindest—especially to Asgard's allies! Since Your Highness is interested in our 'craft,' we must naturally show you true divine workmanship!"
He emphasized the words "divine workmanship," a thought flashing through his mind:
Let this brat, blown out of proportion by Odin, open his eyes. Let him understand: Asgardians may be fine people; but when it comes to creation and forging, we Nidavellir are the rightful kings of the Nine Realms—no, of the entire cosmos!
One of the guards leaned close and whispered in Dwarvish, "Your Majesty… are you really going to take him into the core furnace area? The temperature there is nothing like Asgard's gardens."
"What are you afraid of?" Eitri replied in Dwarvish, confidence overflowing. "Odin's son won't get roasted by a little heatwave, will he?"
He only meant to intimidate the prince—make him retreat when faced with difficulty, and stop thinking forging was child's play.
What they believed was secret communication was, under Lucci's soul perception, as clear as if spoken directly into his ear.
Lucci's expression remained indifferent, as if he heard nothing. He simply made a "please" gesture, signaling for Eitri to lead.
That extreme calm made Eitri slightly uncomfortable—like punching cotton.
"Hmph. Keep pretending to be refined."
Eitri waved his hand.
"Come, Your Highness. I'll show you where Thor's hammer was born!"
With faintly exaggerated delight, he led Lucci deeper into Nidavellir's core—to the heart of the neutron-star furnace.
Along the way, countless dwarf craftsmen greeted their king and stared curiously at the outsider. Seeing Lucci's "thin" figure so out of place here, they wore expressions like Eitri's—excitement mixed with curiosity.
In their view, forging was an epic of strength, and the Asgardian before them was clearly an outsider to that domain.
Eitri enjoyed this feeling, already eager to see the small Asgardian prince's wonderful expression when the neutron star beam that could melt all things was unleashed.
…
Bonus chapter at 300 PS