Chapter 77: Yang Xin Wearing the Infinity Gauntlet

“Wood Release: Wood Lattice Wall!” A colossal wooden barricade sprang forth—not to shield the hellish creatures, but to keep them from escaping. Their flesh and blood were prime nourishment for the Divine Tree. If the Divine Tree possessed sentience, it would surely be licking its lips, savoring this lavish feast.

“Wood Release: Piercing Technique!”

All the trees within the forest erupted with wooden spikes, mercilessly skewering the fiends of hell one after another. Tormented wails swept through the woods in waves—so many, tens of thousands, no, hundreds of millions, perhaps even beyond counting—each echoing the agony of these infernal beings in their final moments. The sheer scale of it sent a chill through everyone’s hearts, raising goosebumps across their skin.

It was utterly tragic.

Yet, in Yang Xin’s ears, the demons’ screams were a symphony of life itself. There could be no peace between humans and these hellish beings, for they devoured people. On that basis alone, it was a battle of annihilation: either they perished, or humanity did.

Gradually, the cries faded. Still, Yang Xin remained vigilant, commanding in a thunderous voice, “Ebony Maw, Black Dwarf, General Corvus, Proxima Midnight—lead your legions and hunt down the remaining enemies.”

The Obsidian Four glanced at Thanos. Receiving his nod, they obeyed Yang Xin’s order, rallying their armies to eradicate the surviving infernals. With Tree World Descends under Yang Xin’s dominion, he knew precisely where the stragglers hid. Only the upper demons had survived, barely clinging to life amid the carnage—lesser fiends and minions had already perished, their remains feeding the Divine Tree.

“Is this truly a Divine Tree, or a Demonic one?” Thanos sighed again.

“Divinity and demonhood are but a line apart. Those who aid me are gods, those who hinder me, demons. We have matters to discuss once more,” Yang Xin replied, extending his hand.

But he wasn’t offering a handshake to Thanos—he was demanding the Space Stone.

Thanos narrowed his eyes, clutching his massive blade with greater force as he met Yang Xin’s gaze. Yang Xin, undaunted, stared back unflinchingly.

All noise ceased. Everyone held their breath, eyes fixed on the distant pair. Only now did the Avengers truly realize: this was not the Thanos of that fateful day, alone and overpowered by their combined might. Now, Thanos commanded a formidable force.

If battle broke out between them… the consequences would be unimaginable.

Thanos fixed Yang Xin with a long, cold stare, then slowly slid off the Infinity Gauntlet, which held the Space Stone, and tossed it to Yang Xin. Without ceremony, Yang Xin caught it.

“Thank you, Master!” Yang Xin suddenly declared.

Thanos’ willingness to surrender the Space Stone and Infinity Gauntlet was not a testament to Yang Xin’s strength—formidable as he was, he was no match for Thanos and his legions. Rather, it was because the Sorcerer Supreme stood at Yang Xin’s side.

Accepting the gauntlet, Yang Xin didn’t immediately set the stones in place. Instead, he fell into contemplation. The fully assembled Infinity Gauntlet reminded him of gathering the Dragon Balls in “Dragon Ball” to summon Shenron.

In the original story, Thanos declared that half the universe must die, and so it was. In “Avengers: Endgame,” Bruce Banner, transformed into the Hulk, wished for those who had perished to be restored, and so they returned. Tony Stark wished for Thanos and his army to be obliterated, and so it happened.

“Have you decided what you’ll do?” The Sorcerer Supreme’s voice sounded quietly in Yang Xin’s ear.

“Do I have to snap the fingers myself?” Yang Xin muttered inwardly. Truth be told, he was reluctant. When Thanos snapped, half his being was ravaged; when the Hulk snapped, his entire arm was destroyed; and when Tony Stark snapped, he lost his life.

“To rival gods with a mortal body.” Fame meant nothing if you were dead. If Yang Xin had been a native superhero, perhaps he’d have felt the passionate urge to sacrifice himself for a “legacy in life and death,” but he was not.

His eyes darted about, searching for a scapegoat. Thanos was out of the question—who knew what atrocities he might commit if handed the completed gauntlet, perhaps even targeting Yang Xin out of spite for past slaughters, though Yang Xin hadn’t killed him personally.

The Avengers, then? Tony Stark was unsuitable—he’d die from a snap. The best candidates were Hulk, with his immense strength to withstand the backlash, or Captain America, with his noble spirit capable of any sacrifice for the human race.

Wait! A thought struck Yang Xin. He’d overlooked something: Tony Stark died after snapping because his wish was too vast—wiping out Thanos and his entire army. If he’d merely wished away a single grunt, it might not have cost him anything.

All things obey the law of equivalent exchange: to gain, one must give. With all six Infinity Stones, the cost was their energy; as long as the backlash could be endured, all was well.

His intent was only to create a sun—stripping away all myth and legend, scientifically, the sun was merely a star with a diameter of 1,392,000 kilometers, about three-quarters hydrogen, most of the rest helium, with less than two percent heavier elements, releasing light and heat via nuclear fusion…

Given his current condition, he should be able to withstand it. The Sage of Six Paths created a moon without issue; while making a sun was far more difficult, he possessed the Infinity Stones.

With this thought, Yang Xin’s confidence soared. Arrogantly, he donned the Infinity Gauntlet and set each stone in place, feeling an overwhelming power surge through him—a sensation of supremacy over the cosmos.

He grinned at Thanos, baring his teeth. This feeling was intoxicating—wielding the might of heaven and earth itself.

“Master, stand guard for me. Your disciple is about to reshape earth, fire, wind, and water—remake the world!” Yang Xin declared, his voice thundering with bravado.

“Tony, I’m going to create a sun in this world. Have Friday calculate the sun’s mass and orbital path according to Copernicus’s heliocentric model,” Yang Xin ordered imperiously, as though he might command the heavens themselves.

“I want to smack him across the face. Twice,” Tony Stark grumbled.

“I’d like to hit him too!”

“Agreed! Agreed!” The Avengers chorused their assent.

“You should be proclaiming: ‘One snap can open the heavens, one snap can forge the earth! Such a terrifying fellow…’ Damn!” Yang Xin hadn’t finished his dramatic monologue before he yelped in alarm.

The damned Treasure Distribution System was acting up again.