When Thor arrived at Asgard's side corridor, he immediately saw the elegant and luxurious Queen of the Gods, Frigga, holding a child with black hair and black eyes in her arms, her expression full of affection.
The child looked about seven or eight years old, yet he was astonishingly quiet—sitting calmly in the queen's embrace. His eyes were far too deep to belong to a child.
There was no doubt.
This was Lucci.
"Mother."
The moment Thor met Frigga's affectionate gaze, an even stronger discomfort rose in his heart.
"Oh, Thor, you're back."
Frigga smiled gently at her eldest. "Come, let me introduce you."
"This is Lucci, your younger brother."
"Lucci, this is your brother, Thor."
Frigga set Lucci down softly and touched both children's heads. "From now on, you must get along, all right?"
Lucci only glanced at Thor in silence, gave a slight nod, and said nothing.
In his eyes, the blond boy crackling with thunder and lightning felt like a giant, energetic lightbulb—simple in structure, and not threatening.
Thor snorted and gave a perfunctory, "Hmph."
After Frigga left, Thor immediately revealed his ruler of Asgard nature.
He strode up to Lucci, brandished the small hammer in his hand as though it were imposing, and pointed at Lucci with a tone he thought was majestic.
"Hey, newcomer!"
"Heimdall said you're very strong—do you dare compete with me?"
"I'll tell you this: I'm the strongest in Asgard!"
Even hearing Thor's childish, provocative declaration, Lucci's expression didn't change in the slightest.
He simply stood there quietly, his dark eyes calmly fixed on the blond boy before him.
There was no emotion in that gaze—no contempt, no anger, no excitement for battle.
It was more like a researcher observing an interesting yet simple biological specimen.
To see essence, to understand the source.
That was how Lucci—newly awakened—looked at the world.
In his vision, Thor's body was filled with explosive thunder and lightning power, wild and mighty… yet it surged in an extremely crude and chaotic way, driven by instinct and violent force.
Like a child swinging a peerless divine weapon: it looked powerful, but was riddled with openings.
"Your understanding of power…"
"…is far too superficial."
Lucci finally spoke. The indifference and depth in his voice did not match his age.
That single line was like a spark falling into Thor's powder keg.
"What did you say?!"
Thor was furious!
The thing he was most proud of was his strength!
Across all Asgard, none of his peers could surpass him!
And now this guy—who had just crawled out of the egg—was saying his understanding of power was superficial?
That was the greatest insult!
"You big-mouthed brat!"
"I'll show you what it means to be taught a lesson!"
Thor roared in anger, no longer hesitating.
He clenched his hammer with both hands—his Uru-forged warhammer, Mjolnir, blessed by Odin—and poured all his strength into it!
Buzz—
Lightning on the hammerhead flashed as wind and thunder erupted.
Though it was still only a young version of a true warhammer, under Thor's divine power it carried tremendous momentum, smashing down toward Lucci's head!
Yet in the face of that thunderous strike, Lucci's response exceeded Thor's imagination.
He did not dodge.
He did not evade.
He raised his right hand and extended his index finger.
Then, he pointed lightly at the whistling warhammer.
One finger.
Meeting Thor's hammer head-on.
Seeing this, Thor's anger surged even higher. He felt the other party was humiliating him in public!
He gritted his teeth and decided to use all his power—smash that hateful finger and its owner into the ground!
The next instant—
Finger and hammerhead touched.
There was no earth-shaking bang.
No energy collision.
No explosion.
Thor felt as if he hadn't struck a finger at all.
It felt like he had hit…
A neutron star.
An incomparably vast, indestructible, yet utterly restrained force erupted from that finger.
That force was too pure—too absolute.
It carried no violent outward burst, yet in an instant it erased the wind, thunder, and lightning clinging to Thor's hammer… and annihilated every trace of divine power he had poured into it.
Like a clay entering the sea—vanishing without a ripple.
Immediately after, a terrifying recoil surged along the hammer's handle and flooded Thor's entire body.
"Bang!"
Thor's sturdy body flew backward like a ball kicked by a giant—faster than he had charged in—his whole body blasted away!
He traced an embarrassing parabola through the air and finally slammed onto the hall floor on all fours with a dull thud, more than ten meters away.
The small warhammer slipped from his hand and clattered aside.
The entire corridor fell into dead silence.
Lucci withdrew his finger. It was unscathed—without even the faintest tremor.
He looked at Thor on the ground, his expression calm, as though he had just done something trivial.
Thor lay on the cold floor, his mind blank.
His body still numbed, he didn't even feel pain.
Only…
Endless confusion and shock.
How could this be?
He had attacked with everything he had…
And the other party…
Used one finger…
And blocked it?
Not only that—Thor had been blasted away?
He stared blankly at the ceiling, then at his slightly trembling hands, and finally at the black-haired child standing indifferent in the distance.
For the first time in his life—
His simple, muscle-bound brain was violently shaken at its core.
…