Nidavellir.
After weathering the tidal wave of worship, the atmosphere finally returned to order.
But every dwarf's gaze on Lucci was completely different now.
It was a complex look woven from awe, worship, excitement—and absolute conviction.
In their hearts, Lucci was no longer merely an Asgardian prince. He was the "God of Forging" who had come to enlighten them.
After receiving the highest reverence of the entire dwarf race, Lucci finally voiced his intention.
"I need materials," he said in a low voice—yet clearly audible to every dwarf. "I want to make something myself."
A single stone stirred a thousand waves!
The "god" intended to forge an artifact with his own hands!
Eitri and the dwarves trembled with excitement the moment they heard it.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance!
To witness the "God of Forging" create something with their own eyes—what honor was that?
This alone was enough to become the greatest glory of their entire lives.
"We obey your command, Your Highness!"
Eitri sprang up, not even caring to wipe the dust from his face, and led the way with unprecedented respect.
"All of Nidavellir's treasury will be opened!"
"Please come— we have prepared the finest materials in the universe!"
Under Eitri's guidance, Lucci was respectfully invited into Nidavellir's core—its most heavily guarded materials vault.
Inside were countless rare metals collected and forged by the dwarves over tens of thousands of years—each worth enough to stir bloodstorms across the cosmos.
Eitri walked to the deepest part of the vault and carefully opened a massive chest sealed with runes.
The moment it opened, a pure, heavy metallic aura washed over them.
Inside, dark silver ingots were stacked neatly.
They seemed almost alive, ringed with visible energy, actively absorbing power from the surroundings.
Eitri's face was proud—almost flamboyantly so—as he introduced them to Lucci:
"Your Highness! Please look!
This is the proudest masterpiece of our Nidavellir dwarves—Uru Divine Steel!"
"It is forged and quenched again and again within the forge core of the neutron star furnace using the purest Uru ore.
Its durability is astonishing—almost unbreakable!"
"But its greatest trait is its ability to resonate perfectly with magical power!"
Eitri picked up a piece and handed it to Lucci, eyes blazing.
"In theory, it can carry any form and any intensity of magic!
King Odin's Eternal Spear and Prince Thor's hammer were all made from this material!
It is the most perfect magical metal in the universe— the best choice for forging artifacts!"
Eitri's tone brimmed with confidence in his race's greatest creation.
In his view, even a "God of Forging" would be satisfied with such a perfect material.
Lucci took the heavy piece of Uru divine steel.
In his palm, cold and weighty, he sensed the majestic energy within and its affinity with laws.
His gaze deepened, as if piercing through the metal's surface—directly seeing its finest atomic structure and its most fundamental law-structure.
Time seemed to stop.
Eitri and the dwarves held their breath, watching expectantly—waiting for praise and affirmation from a "god."
But only a few seconds later—
Lucci slowly shook his head.
That tiny motion was like an invisible hammer smashing into every dwarf's heart.
Their smiles froze.
The light in their eyes congealed.
No…
Not satisfied?
The god wasn't satisfied with Uru divine steel?!
How was that possible?!
Amid their disbelief, Lucci placed the piece back into the chest with a sharp clank.
In a tone so calm it was almost indifferent, he delivered his verdict:
"The material is good."
They exhaled—only for him to change the subject.
"But it isn't perfect."
Not perfect!
Those words detonated like thunder in every dwarf's mind.
Uru divine steel—crystallization of tens of thousands of years of dwarf wisdom, the most sacred material in the universe—was only "good" in the mouth of the God of Forging?
And "not perfect"?
"Your Highness… you… you mean…"
Eitri's voice was dry. He swallowed hard and asked trembling:
"Is Uru… defective?"
Lucci looked at him as if at a curious student, and without concealing anything, he pointed directly at the core issues:
"Its energy-conduction structure has redundancy.
Your forging method forces energy to take unnecessary detours, causing at least 10% energy loss."
"Second: the law-binding between molecules isn't close enough.
It's like tying a dragon with a hemp rope—it looks strong, but once the energy exceeds a threshold, the links collapse instantly.
In other words, there is a clear carrying limit. It is not 'infinite' as you claim."
Every word was like a precise scalpel, cutting open the dwarves' proud achievement and exposing its "disease" bloody and raw.
Hearing this, Eitri and the others felt their minds buzz and go blank.
Because the problems Lucci named were things they had vaguely sensed across millennia of study—yet had never been able to pinpoint, let alone solve.
They had believed it was the material's unchangeable nature.
But now this young god merely looked—and accurately called them out.
After the shock, Eitri's face showed no anger—only unprecedented joy and excitement.
He realized: the god was here to enlighten them again!
He asked hurriedly, voice trembling with excitement:
"Then… Your Highness, these flaws… can they be remedied?"
Lucci's mouth curved faintly.
"Of course."
He spoke two calm words, then added a sentence that drove all dwarves mad once more:
"I can improve it."
…