Odin Begins to Doubt the "Weak Prince" Rumors
For centuries, Odin had accepted the common belief:
Thor → strongest Loki → second Roy → weakest
Roy never displayed overwhelming strength.
He never competed.
He never boasted.
He never shone in public training.
He was polite, quiet, soft-spoken, gentle.
A perfect "weak prince."
But Odin was not a fool.
And one day, the Allfather saw something that shattered the illusion.
It began with a simple moment…
A meeting in the throne room.
Thor returned from Jotunheim's borders, proudly carrying the tusk of a frost beast. Loki presented a clever strategy map that impressed every general.
And Roy…
Roy simply stood behind them, quietly smiling.
A servant walking by tripped on the steps—
the heavy golden tray flying straight toward him.
There was no time to react.
Even Odin blinked too late.
But the tray never hit Roy.
It… froze in the air.
Just an inch from him.
Suspended.
Still.
Silent.
Roy blinked as if confused, then gently pushed it upright with one finger and set it on a nearby table as though nothing happened.
The entire court fell silent.
Odin's one eye narrowed.
Roy looked up innocently.
"Ah… reflex?"
Everyone laughed.
Everyone except Odin.
The Allfather's Thoughts That Night
Odin sat on his throne long after the hall emptied, tapping Gungnir's shaft against the floor.
That was not reflex. That was… space manipulation? Or time dilation? Or both? At that speed? At his age? Without runes or casting?
Odin had personally witnessed every type of magic across the Nine Realms.
Roy's action was not something an average godling could perform.
Not even Loki could perform that trick without preparation and visible effort.
And Roy—
Did it casually.
Effortlessly.
Absentmindedly.
Odin frowned.
A boy who is "barely surface-level" should not be able to stabilize space with a blink.
Something was wrong.
Suspicion 1: Roy's Aura
Odin extended his senses toward Roy.
What he found was… strange.
Roy's aura was too clean. Too stable. Too perfect.
It lacked the turbulence that every growing Asgardian had.
Most young gods had:
surges, flickers, instinctive power leaks, uncontrolled pulses.
Roy had none.
His aura was like a perfectly sealed container.
Only the truly powerful could hide so flawlessly.
Odin's eyes widened slightly.
Even I cannot sense the bottom of this boy…
Suspicion 2: The Training Grounds Incident
A week later, Odin disguised himself and visited the warrior barracks.
He found Roy sitting peacefully, reading a book while Thor sparred loudly with the Warriors Three.
Sif walked by and greeted Roy shyly, blushing. Loki waved from across the field.
Typical scene.
But then a berserk training golem broke loose—
rushing toward Sif at full speed.
Everyone panicked.
Thor turned too slowly.
Loki was caught off guard.
Sif braced herself.
And Roy—
Roy didn't move from his seated position.
He simply looked at the golem with annoyance.
**The golem's body froze mid-charge.
Cracked.
Then shattered into dust.**
No visible magic.
No aura flare.
No spell words.
Just… a glance.
Sif gasped.
Thor stared.
Loki's jaw dropped.
Roy said calmly:
"Faulty golem."
And went back to reading.
But Odin…
Odin felt the pressure of that attack.
It wasn't magic.
It wasn't strength.
It wasn't raw power.
It was Rules Authority—though Odin had no name for it.
To Odin, it felt like—
The world itself obeyed Roy's command.
Suspicion 3: The Impossible Suppression
Odin tried to sense Roy's true strength again.
And failed.
No… it was worse.
It was as if Roy absorbed Odin's attempt and returned a gentle, harmless presence—as though he were truly weak.
Only beings far, far above Odin could hide their power so perfectly.
Odin's heart thudded.
"Impossible… not even a Heavenly Father can suppress perfectly. Unless he is stronger than—"
He stopped the thought.
It was ridiculous.
Roy was his youngest son.
His baby.
His little, smiling, polite child who baked cakes for Frigga and fed the palace cats.
Right?
Right?
Odin's First Real Fear
That night, Odin sat beside the Odinsleep chamber alone.
He whispered to himself:
"Roy… just what are you?"
For the first time in centuries…
The Allfather felt a tinge of fear.
Not of danger.
But fear that he had failed to understand his own son.