Marvel: I became an ancestor by sacrificing offerings.

The entire Asgardian undead army that followed Kul in conquering the Nine Realms thousands of years ago was summoned at this moment!

When the monstrous catastrophe, seemingly capable of swallowing the heavens and earth, was truly presented before everyone, the cheers that had just ignited from all over the world came to an abrupt halt.

The smiles of billions of people froze on their faces, and the expressions of the Avengers also became extremely solemn.

But Peter smiled.

It wasn't mockery, nor was it bluffing; it was genuine laughter from the bottom of their hearts.

Old Deng, you're so polite, it warms my heart~

Kur also noticed the almost blindingly bright smile on Peter's face.

He froze for a moment, and his heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.

An indescribable chill rose from the deepest part of his heart, as if an invisible venomous snake was slowly climbing up his spine.

But this absurd unease lasted for less than half a second before he forcibly suppressed it with his powerful pride as a god-king.

impossible.

What can a mere mortal from Midgard do to these immortal cavalrymen, no matter how extraordinary he may be?

These spirits know no pain, never tire, and are not afraid of death. As long as his divine power does not run out, they can be resurrected indefinitely.

They are an eternal army, the foundation he personally built thousands of years ago to conquer the Nine Realms!

If it weren't for that damned beast Odin betraying his brother at the crucial moment, the entire Nine Realms... no, the entire universe would already be in Kur's hands!

Now that he has brought this undead army back into the light of day, even Odin himself probably wouldn't be able to stop their charge!

What can this mortal do in the face of this massive army?

At this moment, such a smile is nothing more than a pretense of composure and a bluff.

Yes, that must be it.

Kur successfully convinced himself, and a cruel and twisted smile reappeared on his face.

He raised the scepter high, and the dark green gem at the tip of the scepter emitted an unprecedentedly dazzling light.

All-Spirit Cavalry—Charge!

The moment the order was given, the undead army in the sky moved.

At this moment, all was silent, and the world changed color.

Tens of thousands of undead cavalrymen clad in ancient armor simultaneously tightened their reins, their skeletal warhorses, burning with eerie green flames, neighed silently, transforming into a dark green torrent of death as they plunged down.

The dense aura of death carried by the gathering of tens of thousands of undead caused the temperature within a radius of several kilometers to drop by more than ten degrees. Nothing grew where it passed, as if all life in the world would be swept away and devoured by it.

The projection in the sky faithfully conveyed this apocalyptic scene to every corner of the world.

The people who had just been cheering for the defeat of the Heavenly Hammer Venerable fell into a deathly silence once again.

Tens of thousands of undead soldiers.

With this scale and this strength... how could the Arbiter and his team of less than ten heroes possibly defeat them?

On a New York street, a mother holding her child tightly covered the child's eyes, yet she herself could not look away.

On London's clock tower, citizens fleeing the floods couldn't help but close their eyes and pray, hoping for a miracle.

At this moment, the hopes of seven billion people around the world rest on the shoulders of one person!

The arbiter is humanity's last hope.

But faced with this overwhelming calamity of the dead, does he really... have any way to solve it?

On the battlefield, the Avengers also felt this suffocating pressure.

They certainly wanted to help Peter, but faced with an army of that size, even with their two buffs, they simply couldn't stop its momentum!

What to do? What to do?

Everyone instinctively looked at Peter, hoping he would do something!

Peter simply stood there, hands in his pockets, even casually tilting his head.

His gaze passed over the surging undead cavalry and landed on Kur, who was in the distance and thought he had the victory in his grasp.

He spoke, his voice not loud, but it carried clearly throughout the room.

"Old Deng."

The familiar address made Kur's eyebrows twitch violently.

"Haven't you thought about one thing?"

Kur snorted coldly and didn't reply. He disdained to waste words on a dying man who was about to be torn to pieces by his army.

But Peter didn't need his response and continued speaking on his own:

"Why did those three Heavenly Hammer Venerables you mentioned disappear without a trace?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Kur's eyes widened suddenly, and the images of his three capable henchmen involuntarily flashed before his eyes.

Quas, Nur, Scorn!

The three of them were connected to their own souls, but this connection was severed by some force.

I can't sense their presence at all, nor can I try to summon them from the Land of the Dead!

He hadn't thought about this matter in detail before, or rather, the successive blows he had suffered earlier had left him no time to consider such a question.

But now, when Peter brings up this issue in such a nonchalant tone...

A strong sense of unease surged again, and the terrible thought involuntarily surfaced in Kur's mind—

Their disappearance was no coincidence!

The young man before me truly possesses a method capable of obliterating even the soul!

"Bingo~" Peter smiled, congratulating himself on getting it right, and then took out the white banner from his storage ring.

With a flick of the banner, three figures that Kur felt were incredibly familiar reappeared.

Quas, Nur, Scorn!

The remnants of their souls were all bound within that white banner.

Moreover, judging from their appearance, they have clearly been completely used by Peter!

"I'll gladly accept this gift you gave me."

The moment the words left his mouth, the Banner of Ten Thousand Souls in Peter's hand swelled in the wind!

The banner, which was originally only two or three meters high, was suddenly enlarged to the point where it could blot out the sky.

At that very moment, the entire battlefield underwent a fundamental transformation.

An indescribable and immense power poured out from the banner.

The power was not fierce, not violent, and not even sharp; it was simply... like an endless abyss, swallowing up the intense death aura emanating from the tens of thousands of undead cavalry!

The undead cavalry charging at the forefront began to flicker violently with the dark green ghostly flames burning in their eye sockets, as if they had encountered their natural enemy.

Immediately afterwards, the dark green flames that represented the power of the Kur God were forcibly covered and purified by a higher and purer power!

The will-o'-the-wisp went out, and the charging cavalrymen remained in the posture of riding their horses and holding the reins, but their bodies turned into ashes in the process.

Not just one or two, but entire swaths of them vanished!

The Asgardian heroes, enslaved for thousands of years, were finally freed at this moment.

The tattered armor fell away silently, turning into ashes, and the bones crumbled inch by inch in the soft light, disappearing into nothingness.

One by one, souls, freed from their shackles and gleaming with a pale golden light, were drawn out from the wreckage.

They paused briefly in mid-air, as if bowing in respect to Peter, before transforming into countless points of light, like weary birds returning to their forests or rivers flowing into the sea, all of which were absorbed into the Banner of Ten Thousand Souls!