# 1071
Chapter 1072: The Heavenly Lord Questions the Norse Gods
The Heavenly Lord of Dao stepped forward, floating lightly across the broken section of Bifröst. He let out a soft hum of surprise, gazing ahead with some bewilderment.
At the end of Bifröst stood a giant clad in brilliant golden armor, gripping a holy sword, positioned like a mountain. Powerful divine energy surged from within him, and those furious eyes blazed with boundless fighting spirit.
"The guardian of Asgard's Bifröst, as the legends say?"
The Heavenly Lord of Dao raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the figure calmly. "You do possess some strength."
"A Great Xia Heavenly Lord..." Heimdall stood at the head of Bifröst, coldly fixing his gaze on the approaching Daoist. "I'm sorry, but this road is closed."
"Is that so?"
The Heavenly Lord of Dao replied placidly, taking a step forward with his right foot and tapping it gently on the ground.
The entire Bifröst, along with half of Asgard, shook violently beneath that single step!
In an instant, all color was wiped from the world, leaving only black and white. Against this backdrop resembling an old film, only the Daoist in his robes retained his original colors.
Heimdall blinked, and the Daoist's figure vanished from his sight.
Just as Heimdall was about to act, a rich, mellow voice drifted悠悠 from behind him. "The path to the divine palace from here is far too long. This poor Daoist is still in need of a mount... You will do nicely."
Heimdall's pupils constricted sharply!
A palm descended gently onto his shoulder. Surging black and white energy flooded into Heimdall's body. Mystical Daoist techniques wove within him, and the massive figure clad in golden armor began shrinking at a visible rate!
His hands gripping the holy sword gradually transformed into bovine hooves. Those furiously wide eyes gradually lost their luster. The enormous body curled up on the ground, blue-green fur interweaving across the skin's surface, like a massive bag that enclosed his entire form.
In merely ten breaths' time, the giant who had stood guard at the end of Bifröst had been transformed by Daoist technique into a blue ox, standing docilely beside the Daoist.
The Heavenly Lord of Dao extended his hand, patting the tall ox's back, then swung himself onto its back with a faint smile.
"Rest assured, this technique will only last one day. Once it expires, you will return to your original form... Today, you'll have to bear the inconvenience of carrying this poor Daoist on your journey."
The blue ox, beneath the Heavenly Lord of Dao's control, showed not the slightest resistance. Its turbid, dazed gaze turned toward the direction of the Supreme God's palace, and it carried the Daoist, step by step, toward the divine mountain.
Upon the Divine Mountain.
Except for the King of Gods seated upon the divine throne—Odin—every other Norse god on both sides had shock written across their faces.
"He's turned Heimdall into an ox?!" Thor spoke with disbelief. "How did he manage that?!"
Loki stared intently at the distant Daoist riding the ox, his brow furrowed tightly. Those narrow, slanted eyes flickered with subtle light, as if deep in thought.
The War God Tyr's eyes ignited with fury. He clenched his teeth and stepped forward, bowing respectfully to Odin upon the divine throne before speaking solemnly:
"Father King, please allow me to lead the Norse army to intercept the enemy! We absolutely cannot let him storm into the divine palace—this is an insult to Asgard!"
Odin upon the divine throne shifted his gaze from the Heavenly Lord of Dao, glanced at Tyr, and gave a slight nod.
"Go."
"Yes!"
Tyr's eyes blazed with fighting spirit. Without hesitation, he rushed out of the divine palace with his sword on his back, transforming into a streak of light that vanished into the distance.
...
Asgard, Sunset Boulevard.
This jade-paved main road ran straight from Bifröst to the divine mountain. A Daoist in flowing robes rode a blue ox, slowly traversing the void.
Large numbers of Norse deities, along with divine attendants and goddesses, had gathered on both sides of the boulevard, gazing at this ox-riding Daoist. Their eyes gleamed with varied emotions—fear, curiosity, worry, anger...
These watching Norse gods were not all combat-oriented deities. A large portion were gentle gods like Bragi, skilled only in farming, musical instruments, weaving, and poetry. For this terrifying presence from Great Xia, hardly any possessed the courage to step forward and intercept.
The Heavenly Lord of Dao rode the blue ox at an unhurried pace down Sunset Boulevard for nearly the length of an incense stick's burning time. Not a single deity made a move to stop him, which struck him as rather amusing.
"No wonder you managed to survive the mist erosion a hundred years ago... Heh heh."
The Heavenly Lord of Dao delivered a light, mocking remark.
He rode past Sunset Boulevard and arrived at the foot of the divine mountain where the Supreme God's palace stood. Just as he was about to ascend, countless streaks of light flew in from the horizon, transforming into numerous Norse deities in armor, standing scattered across the thousand steps leading up the mountain.
At the final stretch of steps, the War God Tyr stood with one hand gripping a precious sword and the other a divine shield, coldly watching the Heavenly Lord at the mountain's base. A murderous glint burned in his eyes.
"So not all Norse gods are cowards after all."
The Heavenly Lord of Dao dismounted lightly from the ox's back, stroked its horns, and with a wave of his hand, a wooden sword instantly hurtled out from the Supreme God's palace atop the mountain, landing in his grasp.
Clad in his black-and-white Daoist robes and holding a wooden sword, he calmly ascended the steps.
"Kill him!"
The War God Tyr roared. The numerous deities standing atop the steps, gazing down at the Daoist, rushed forward as one!
Countless brilliant divine lights erupted from the mountain. The Heavenly Lord of Dao gripped his sword in one hand, his expression completely unchanged. He gently raised that fragile wooden sword—instantly, the surrounding heavens and earth were once again dyed in black and white.
Pale and pitch-black divine attacks crashed down violently, yet they couldn't touch him in the slightest, bizarrely passing around his body. A few strands of disheveled hair floated in the wind, chaotic yet orderly.
He raised the wooden sword and casually slashed forward. Black divine blood gushed forth, splattering across the stone steps.
Even surrounded by the gods' assault, his steps showed not the slightest hesitation. Instead, with a wonderful rhythmic cadence, he ascended the steps one by one. Each sweep of his sword sent large groups of deities plummeting to their deaths.
Behind him, that white sun rose slowly.
Dingdang—!
With a soft ring, the War God Tyr's right arm was cleaved away by the sword light, crashing to the ground. He spewed a mouthful of black blood and tumbled down from the mountaintop.
The Heavenly Lord of Dao strode forward, stepping onto the final step. The black-and-white world that had enveloped heaven and earth finally dispersed, and a red sun hung behind him, dyeing the blood-soaked mountain steps a bright crimson.
Straw sandals, Daoist robes, hairpin, wooden sword.
Not a single drop of blood stained the Heavenly Lord's body. He appeared as if he were merely a Daoist who had just finished burning incense and bathing, still emanating a faint, refreshing fragrance.
Carrying his sword, he stepped lightly into the divine palace. Raising his gaze to fix upon the one-eyed old man seated upon the pristine divine throne, he smiled faintly:
"Odin, this poor Daoist... has come to kill you."