Marvel's Iron Lady

The arrogant words of Malekith, King of the Dark Elves, were dismissed by almost everyone as mere bluster—everyone except one person. Thor, whose heart was filled with both muscle and a deep love for Asgard, could not tolerate such a brazen enemy tarnishing the honor of his home. After all, the insult wasn't just directed at Asgard but at his family, his home. It was no wonder Thor's temper flared instantly.

"Destroy Asgard? What a big mouth you have! Try my hammer first!" Thor paid no attention to the expressions of those around him. He raised Mjolnir, and his entire body was enveloped in crackling lightning.

Without caring about the shocked look on Loki's face beside him, Thor swung his hammer and shot a bolt of lightning toward Malekith. As we all know, electricity is a conductor, so Loki, standing next to Thor, bore the brunt of it. Before Malekith could get struck, it was Loki who got electrocuted first.

As a powerful sorcerer, Loki had a high affinity for all the elements of nature. But now, behind Thor, Loki exhaled a puff of smoke, his once-pale face now blackened by the lightning. His luxurious royal robes were torn to shreds by the lightning, and his jet-black hair stood on end, making him look like a porcupine.

Shaking uncontrollably, Loki stumbled back two steps before collapsing to the ground, his eyes wide in disbelief. No one had the heart to look at the tragic scene, and even Frigga, the queen, covered her face.

As for the bolt of lightning aimed at Malekith, it was intercepted by a black figure that suddenly appeared in front of him. The lightning, which worked so well on Loki, had no effect on this stone giant-like creature. Lacking further energy, the lightning quickly dissipated, revealing a monster wrapped in molten rock.

This was Algrim, once a general of the Dark Elves, now a monster powered by the Aether and the Kurse Stones. The Kurse Stones was something Malekith had created after learning how to wield the Aether's power. Once implanted into a host, the Kurse Stones would rapidly consume the host's life force, greatly enhancing their combat ability.

However, this process was irreversible, and every The Kursed faced two possible fates: either dying at the hands of an enemy or succumbing to the complete depletion of their life force. Even Malekith himself, looking at his once-loyal subordinate turned into this form, felt a pang of regret.

Regret aside, the mission of the Dark Elves had to be completed. At Malekith's command, the fully-armed Dark Elf army charged toward the Odinson family of Asgard.

Thor cast a guilty glance at Loki before hefting his hammer and charging toward the molten Algrim. Behind him, his friends, including Sif, also rushed at the Dark Elf army, engaging them in battle.

In the rear, Malekith could feel the energy radiating from the Aether, which had been released into the world once more. His gaze fell on Miss Stark, who stood behind the Ancient One, and his expression turned strange. He had sensed the Aether within her—she must have been parasitized by it.

"Mortal, hand over the Aether! You're only letting such a divine object go to waste. Surrender it, or wait for my spear to pierce your chest!" Malekith said coldly, as a silver spear materialized in his hand. He fixed his eyes on Miss Stark, his tone menacing.

"To be or not to be—that is the question," Miss Stark muttered, her brow furrowing as her expression grew unreadable.

"You think you've mastered the power of the Aether just because you've learned a few tricks?" Never before had anyone insulted her like this, and despite her typically calm demeanor, a vein pulsed on her forehead.

"So, this is the so-called Dark Elf? How arrogant and full of yourself," she replied, glaring back at him with a mocking smile, her words dripping with sarcasm.

"Arrogant and full of myself… Is that your last word? Since you won't give it back willingly, I'll take it by force," Malekith said, his expression cold as he raised his other hand, making a grasping gesture.

He had mastered the Aether for many years—long enough to create something like the Kurse Stones—and was intimately familiar with its power. Malekith was certain that by activating the Aether, he could easily strip it from Miss Stark's body. Once he reclaimed the Aether, he planned to execute this insolent mortal.

However, in the next moment, Malekith's face darkened because he realized something was wrong. No matter how much he called upon the Aether, he couldn't get it to separate from the woman standing before him. It was as if the Aether had taken root within her, showing no sign of responding to him. This left Malekith, who had just made his bold claim, feeling rather embarrassed.

How was this possible? The Aether was clearly parasitizing her, so why couldn't he control it and extract it from her?

Without enough power, no one could control the Aether's energy—just as Malekith himself had struggled to. He had believed he could simply manipulate the Aether and pull it from Miss Stark's body. But reality had delivered a harsh slap to Malekith's face, knocking out a few of his teeth in the process.

The spiritual energy he had sent toward Miss Stark disappeared without a trace, as if swallowed by an abyss. The answer was clear, even if it was absurd—Malekith couldn't deny it. If the Aether hadn't acknowledged the woman in front of him, there was no way it would ignore his commands.

Among all present, no one knew the Aether better than Malekith. If it hadn't chosen this woman, why else wouldn't it respond to him?

"You thieving wretch! You stole what rightfully belongs to the Dark Elves! How could you gain its approval? What trick did you use? It's mine!" Malekith roared, his disbelief evident.

Facing the deranged Dark Elf king, Miss Stark simply smiled. However, Malekith, driven mad by fury, couldn't understand the taunting nature of her smile.

Realizing he had lost control of the Aether, Malekith's anger and fear surged. Since he couldn't strip the Aether from her, there was only one other option.

"Kill her! Take back the Aether and restore the Dark Elves to their rightful place in the dark cosmos!" Malekith screamed, infusing his silver spear with a layer of dark energy. He hurled the spear toward Miss Stark with all his might, the dark energy swallowing the once-bright silver weapon, making it a sharp and deadly projectile.

In the next instant, a flash of orange light appeared, forming a golden-red magic circle that deflected the spear. With a flash, the silver spear was stopped in midair, then shattered into six or seven pieces, clattering onto the golden floor of the palace.

It was the Ancient One who had intervened, stopping the spear and thwarting Malekith's plan. Even as a magical avatar, the Sorcerer Supreme remained a formidable opponent, able to draw power from the Dark Dimension.

Miss Stark wasn't afraid of Malekith's attack. After all, she had already gained mastery over both the Reality and Space Stones. There were countless ways she could have blocked the spear, but she chose to do nothing, standing still.

She had noticed the Ancient One preparing a magical fan, and out of curiosity, decided to see what she would do. The Sorcerer Supreme was Earth's protector and had no real reason to accompany Miss Stark to Asgard. Yet, not only had the Ancient One followed her to Asgard, but she had also stepped in to defend her.

This intrigued Miss Stark greatly. She really wanted to understand why the Ancient One was getting involved, especially since, in her experience, the Sorcerer Supreme never meddled in external matters lightly.

At that moment, the grand halls of Asgard's palace began to warp and distort under Malekith's gaze. Every golden pillar and glorious wall was dismantled and reformed into new shapes before his eyes. This was a transformation of space, the secret technique unique to the combat sorcerers of Kamar-Taj: the Mirror Dimension.

Countless twisting structures gathered at Malekith's feet, forming a circular platform in just a few seconds. Standing at the center was the Ancient One, gently waving her magical fan, her brown eyes fixed on Malekith.

No one knew how the fan made of magic was constructed, and her golden hair fluttered beneath her hood in the breeze. In this Mirror Dimension, the only figures present were the Ancient One and Malekith, the King of the Dark Elves.

In the other half of the mirror's reflection—the real world—Malekith's followers were left confused when their leader suddenly vanished. But confusion or not, Asgard's gods were not going to let them go.

Unfortunately, despite their might, the gods of Asgard couldn't outnumber the Dark Elves, who swarmed the battlefield. Thor and his friends fought fiercely among the Dark Elves, joined by the palace guards. Even Frigga, after ensuring Loki's safety, drew a sword and joined the fray.

Only Odin remained standing before his throne, showing no intention of intervening. The battle in the palace was chaotic, fierce, and loud enough to almost tear the roof off.

Even Miss Stark, who was focused on observing the fight between the Ancient One and Malekith through the Space Stone, found the commotion irritating. Growing impatient, she raised her hand.

Everyone heard a crisp snapping sound, faint yet echoing throughout Asgard. The blue energy of the Space Stone surged from her fingertips, locking onto the bodies of every Dark Elf.

Whether alive or dead, every Dark Elf vanished simultaneously, wrapped in the power of the Space Stone and transported out of Asgard, flung to the far reaches of the cosmos.

On the battlefield, how would you feel if your enemy suddenly disappeared in the middle of a life-or-death struggle? Thor didn't know what to think, but his face was filled with confusion.

The Asgardians who had been fighting moments before now stood around in bewilderment, unsure of what to do next.

As for Miss Stark, she calmly lifted her gaze toward the cross-shaped warship lodged in the palace. The Dark Elves were now frozen as sculptures at the edge of the universe, leaving their warship without a master. Coincidentally, she found herself quite interested in the Dark Elves' mothership. Taking it as a trophy seemed reasonable enough.

With a flick of her finger, a red light gradually enveloped the entire black cross-shaped warship. The power of the Reality Stone shrank the massive mothership, reducing it to the size of a thumb. It floated gently into Miss Stark's waiting hand.

Still unsatisfied, she rubbed her fingers together, and the red energy wove itself into a thin cord made of fine fibers. Under the astonished gazes of those around her, she threaded the miniature black cross-shaped warship onto the string.

And so, the Dark Elf mothership, once a terror of the dark ages, now hung as a necklace around Miss Stark's neck.