Reigning Supreme in Every Reality

Although it was Lyon's first time meeting Odin in person, his attitude was anything but respectful—in fact, it carried a tone of interrogation.

The reason was simple.

It was one thing for cosmic-level entities to spy on him; after all, you can't fight the powers that be. But for an aging Odin to blatantly peer into his affairs?

Spying inside Kamar-Taj was not allowed and the fact that Odin never peeked when the Ancient One was alive but now did was telling something.

Did this old god seriously underestimate Lyon, the newly appointed Sorcerer Supreme, and the power of his Sling Ring?

Even if this Odin possessed only a fraction of the strength of his comic-book counterpart, Lyon wouldn't flinch. Not in the slightest.

At worst, Lyon could simply summon the Time Fortress from his inner world. If Odin had the Destroyer Armor, Lyon had a peak-level supreme artifact. It would be a stalemate at best.

Moreover, while the gods of Asgard supposedly grew stronger with age, their physical forms became increasingly incapable of bearing their vast divine power. 

Odin, in his current state, was already on the verge of physical collapse.

Odin was nearing the time for his Odinsleep, a crucial state of rest to stabilize his faltering divine power. 

Attempting to confront someone head-on? Unless he was prepared for his godly power to spiral out of control and potentially obliterate Asgard, such a move was unthinkable.

"Ah, it's you, the new Sorcerer Supreme?" Odin's single eye glanced dismissively at Lyon as he sat atop his throne, leaning lightly on Gungnir.

It hadn't crossed Odin's mind that the very person he was spying on moments ago would not only notice his surveillance but also appear before him instantly. 

Although somewhat embarrassed and at fault, Odin showed no inclination to apologize.

After all, the Odin who once conquered the cosmos wasn't one to resolve matters with mere words.

Throughout his long life, Odin had encountered many Sorcerer Supremes from Earth.

Very few had earned his respect, and beings like the Ancient One were rare exceptions.

To him, expecting another such figure to arise immediately was almost laughable.

"Welcome to Asgard, mage of Midgard," Odin said, gazing down at Lyon as he stepped through the portal.

The grand hall was like a miniature divine kingdom, resplendent with gold and grandeur. At its center sat Odin, radiating a power that could subdue entire realms.

Standing beneath that oppressive majesty, Lyon seemed at first glance to be no more than a speck of dust under Odin's overwhelming aura.

At this moment, Wong and Mordo stepped through the portal behind Lyon.

"Wait, Master Lyon, did you just say Odin? As in the Odin of Asgard?" Mordo's words trailed off abruptly.

The two relatively "unseasoned" sorcerers were immediately overwhelmed as they entered the grand hall. 

The towering dome above, the boundless divine aura emanating from every corner—it felt like they were ants confronting the vastness of creation, as though they were staring directly into the heart of an infinite dimension.

Both men glanced in awe at Odin, then nervously at Lyon. 

To their surprise, their newly appointed Sorcerer Supreme was standing firm, his cold gaze fixed directly on Odin. There was no indication he planned to step forward and exchange pleasantries with the so-called All-Father. 

In fact, Lyon seemed far from considering any courteous handshake or polite introduction.

The two hesitated, then, as if taking a cue from Lyon, refrained from bowing to Odin. Instead, their expressions grew serious.

Wong paused mid-bite, the piece of lobster in his mouth hanging forgotten. He quietly slipped on his Sling Ring, ready for action.

Mordo, gripping a prepared spell in his palm, took a step forward, bracing himself as he spoke with forced composure.

"First of all, greetings, Lord Odin. It is an honor to be received in your presence. However, we are here to inquire about the reason for your surveillance of Kamar-Taj!"

"The Ancient One once said that we would remain steadfast allies, yet why, mere days after her passing, would you commit such a transgression?" Mordo spoke firmly, maintaining his composure as Kamar-Taj's representative.

After finishing, he leaned closer to Lyon and whispered urgently, "Sorcerer Supreme! That's Odin! Calm down—this could easily escalate into a conflict between two civilizations!"

"And more importantly," Mordo added with a gulp, "...we can't beat him!" 

In truth, Mordo was inwardly trembling. Ever since he was young, he'd heard the legends of Norse mythology and the tales of Odin, the All-Father. Joining Kamar-Taj had only deepened his understanding of Odin's immense power and unparalleled status.

Until just a moment ago, Mordo had never imagined he'd find himself confronting such a being. Now, the weight of the moment made his knees weak.

All he could hope for was that Lyon would soften the tension, allowing them all to leave with their dignity intact and continue protecting Earth.

To his horror, Lyon turned to him with a pleased smile.

"Well said!" Lyon exclaimed, slapping Mordo on the shoulder with a hearty pat.

"Odin, you heard him! Before we proceed any further, our Mordo here demands an explanation for your actions!" 

Cold sweat instantly began trickling down Mordo's face.

Mordo was frozen in place, utterly numb.

This damn Lyon! The Sorcerer Supreme had just shoved him into the line of fire like a sacrificial pawn!

Mordo's lower lip trembled uncontrollably. He turned his head toward Lyon, intending to glare at him with a look that screamed, "You sold me out!"

But then he saw Lyon casually remove his outer robe. In an instant, his skin began to be covered by a layer of black material. Within the blink of an eye, the substance spread across his entire body, forming a sleek, jet-black suit that highlighted every chiseled muscle.

Compared to the Superman costume Mordo had occasionally seen on the internet, this version had sharper edges and a more armor-like appearance. It looked incredibly imposing and absurdly cool.

Of course, Mordo had no idea what he was looking at.

The suit Lyon donned was actually a combat outfit called the Black God Suit from another dimension. It boasted extraordinary defensive capabilities, capable of withstanding impacts of up to five hundred tons.

It also had the unique ability to morph into various forms.

To Lyon, it was simply a practical and highly reliable piece of attire.

After changing into the Superman suit, Lyon's aura transformed dramatically, as though a towering mountain had suddenly inverted, pressing down on everyone and making it hard to breathe.

Mordo couldn't understand why, but looking at Lyon now, it felt like something sharp was stabbing into his eyes, nose, and mouth, piercing into his brain and causing a splitting headache.

It was as if something terrifying was emanating from Lyon.

Shaking his head, Mordo tried to dismiss it as an illusion. When he looked up again, Lyon appeared to be his usual, suave and composed self—no overwhelming sharpness, no suffocating presence.

It was almost as though everything Mordo had just experienced was a figment of his imagination.

Yet, at some point, Odin had risen from his throne, his face marked with shock.

The hall fell into silence.

The gray-haired Odin fixed his one-eyed gaze on Lyon, staring intently without uttering a word.

Mordo could practically hear his own heartbeat pounding in his chest.

"He wants an explanation, huh?"

This is it. War between Earth and Asgard is inevitable.

But in the next moment, the once-mighty and intimidating Odin let out a heavy sigh.

The sigh seemed to drain all the pride from Odin's bones, making him appear visibly older in an instant. Though he still stood upright, his posture now carried a faint hunch, as though weighed down by the burdens of time.

"I deeply apologize, Master Mordo," Odin said unexpectedly, offering an apology. 

However, while his words were directed toward Mordo, his gaze remained fixed on Lyon.

"The reason I intruded upon Kamar-Taj was because I heard of the Ancient One's passing," Odin explained. "I couldn't resist the urge to take one last look at an old friend."

He sighed once more and descended the grand staircase leading from his throne.

"I hope you can understand," Odin continued, "what it's like for someone as old as I am, having lived far too long, to feel the unbearable grief of losing yet another companion."

Now standing before Lyon, Odin tilted his head back slightly to look up at the younger man, who towered over him.

In Odin's eyes, Lyon truly seemed far too young—a mere child compared to the endless eons he had lived.

Mordo observed the scene, noting the wistfulness in the All-Father's expression as he spoke directly to Lyon.

"That's quite an impressive suit, Sorcerer Supreme," Odin said, his tone softening. "If you wish, Asgard has its share of remarkable treasures. Perhaps you could take a few back with you—as a gift to celebrate your new position?"

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