Lucci watched Thor leave, as excited as if he'd been injected with chicken blood, without showing the slightest emotion.
To him, pointing Thor in the right direction was only a small act.
Like a top mathematician watching an elementary student solve a problem in the clumsiest way—mentioning a more efficient formula wouldn't stir any waves in their heart.
He turned his gaze back to the root system of the enormous golden World Tree and submerged once more into the sea of knowledge.
This environment really was exceptional.
As the fulcrum of the Nine Realms, the World Tree's roots reached deeply into the underlying laws of the cosmos. It wasn't just an intersection of energies—it was also a gathering place for higher-dimensional information such as space, time, and causality.
Studying here allowed Lucci to comprehend things while practicing the Nine Realms Cyclic Breathing Method far more efficiently than elsewhere.
In this calm state of reading and perception, time passed slowly.
One day… two days… three days…
Lucci read almost all the classics on energy and laws in Asgard's library, turning that knowledge into "nutrients" for his own understanding.
As his comprehension deepened, he gradually sensed a new, unprecedented power.
It existed everywhere, yet was extremely difficult to detect.
It wasn't traceable like the laws of space, nor directly observable like the laws of energy.
It was like a boundless, formless river, silently flowing beneath everything.
All matter, all energy—even laws themselves—were forced to flow along this long river, from "past" to "future."
"Time…"
A bright interest lit up in Lucci's eyes.
Before, though he knew time existed, he had always been only an "onlooker" and "experiencer," drifting passively down the long river of time.
But now he could "touch" the river, understand its "current," and even wanted to reverse its "speed."
He closed his eyes and focused all his attention on sensing that invisible power.
…
Meanwhile, in Asgard, there was a tavern filled with the scent of ale and laughter.
Having mastered the Ten-Thousand Sovereigns Thunder Art, Thor summoned his three closest friends—the Warriors Three of Asgard.
One of them was Volstagg: burly, astonishingly hearty, holding a giant battle axe.
The other two were Fandral, skilled with the sword and self-proclaimed charming; and Hogun of Vanaheim, quiet and steady, deadly with his mace.
"Friends!"
Thor planted a boot on the oak table and roared triumphantly.
"I'm sick of these peaceful, moldy days in Asgard!"
"It's time for the warriors of our fairy palace to make our names ring through the Nine Realms again!"
He drained the wine in his cup and slammed it down.
"I've decided to go to Jotunheim and teach those Frost Giants a lesson!"
The moment Thor finished, the tavern—noisy just a heartbeat earlier—fell silent.
Volstagg set down the massive roast he was holding. Fandral stopped flirting with the waitress. A trace of solemnity appeared on Hogun's usually unreadable face.
"Thor, are you out of your mind?" Volstagg frowned. "Jotunheim isn't a playground! Back then we defeated Laufey, but the Frost Giants' main force is still there! It's just the four of us—are you rushing to your death?"
"Agreed," Fandral said, forcing down his smile. "Your courage is admirable, but it isn't wise. We can't put ourselves in danger on impulse."
Hogun didn't speak, but the agreement in his eyes said everything.
They acknowledged Thor was strong, but they didn't believe four men could fight an entire realm of Frost Giants.
"Hah—sending me to my death?" Hearing his friends' concern, Thor didn't get angry. Instead, he laughed with absolute confidence.
He extended his hand.
Mjolnir roared, crashed through the window, and landed in his palm.
Buzz—!
A thunderous pressure several times stronger than before erupted instantly from the hammer, shaking tables and chairs.
The three warriors felt that condensed lightning power and their expressions changed at once.
"This…"
"This is… Mjolnir?" Fandral's eyes went wide. "Thor… you got its approval?"
"Of course!" Thor puffed his chest proudly. "Just a little while ago!"
Volstagg and Hogun exchanged a look, seeing surprise and joy in each other's eyes.
If Thor could truly wield the real Mjolnir, his strength would change drastically.
Perhaps…
Going to Jotunheim wasn't completely impossible.
But Thor's next words plunged them into fresh confusion.
"And let me tell you!"
Thor's eyes shone with excitement as he spoke mysteriously.
"Mastering Mjolnir is only one part."
"The other…"
"A more powerful killer move!"
"Killer move?"
"The true power of thunder?"
The three warriors looked at each other, completely baffled.
Volstagg scratched his head suspiciously. "Thor, what are you talking about? Mjolnir represents the strongest power of thunder, doesn't it? Could there be something stronger than Mjolnir's lightning?"
In their minds, Thor's hammer was the ultimate embodiment of thunder and lightning.
Yet Thor was saying, "I have even more power"?
How could that be possible?
Seeing their blank faces, Thor only smiled proudly and didn't explain.
The might of the Ten-Thousand Sovereigns Thunder Art couldn't be clearly described with words.
He wanted to use facts—on the battlefield—to shock his friends.
"In short—are you coming or not?" Thor demanded.
The three warriors exchanged looks and saw helplessness in each other's eyes.
They knew Thor's personality: once he decided, he couldn't be changed.
If they refused, he would go alone—hammer in hand—charging recklessly to Jotunheim.
And that would be worse.
"…Fine," Volstagg sighed, hefting his axe. "If you say so, I'll go. I won't let you die alone."
"Yes—live and die together," Fandral said, drawing his sword.
Hogun silently gripped his mace tighter, showing his stance through action.
"Good brothers!" Thor laughed, moved, slinging an arm around their shoulders.
"Let's go! Destination—Jotunheim!"
…
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