"How much longer must these days continue?"
Thor, his face bruised and swollen, asked his younger brother. His tone was thick with impatience.
He had truly had enough of this dull existence. Although he had always loved battle, a life of constant fighting without a single shred of praise or glory was making him irritable.
"Brother, do not be anxious. It is not yet time."
Loki had managed to glean a few scraps of information regarding Mjolnir during this period. After all, when mages chatted amongst themselves, it wasn't entirely about how fun video games were. Beyond their cultivation and studies, they also discussed gossip from the mystical side of the world.
Thus, they were aware of the news regarding two hammers falling to Earth.
Loki had been working hard to gather intelligence on this front, though the results were mediocre at best—especially since he had to split his focus to review his magical studies.
"Look at the life I'm leading every day!"
Thor pointed at the bruises on his face, shouting with a touch of rage.
He frequently expressed his dissatisfaction to Vorusk, but Vorusk had no time to patiently explain the nuances of current events to him. Consequently, Thor's questions were usually answered with brute force.
After all, Vorusk was currently preoccupied with monitoring Bul-Kathos's condition.
Sealing the soul of a Demon King was not a task that allowed for relaxation. For some time now, Vorusk had been almost entirely focused on observing Bul-Kathos. Although the chance of something going wrong was slim, that was no reason to lower one's guard.
"I imagine you have become quite a bit stronger, haven't you, Brother?"
Loki twirled a staff in his hand a few times, staring fixedly at Thor.
Compared to Thor's strength, which was visibly increasing with the naked eye, Loki's own path of learning had not been nearly as smooth.
How does a mage become stronger?
Aside from refining one's control over mana, it involved constantly filling oneself with knowledge to understand the world, and then mastering new incantations. This process was never an easy task.
Unless one possessed wisdom far surpassing that of ordinary men, allowing for a crystal-clear understanding of the principles between the world and knowledge.
Loki was talented, yes, but not enough to rapidly digest such high-level knowledge. In terms of raw talent, he still lagged a fair distance behind his mother, Frigga.
"Stronger? I am already strong! If I could just lift Mjolnir, I wouldn't be dragging myself out of these Rifts covered in injuries every single time."
Thor was still brooding over the fact that Mjolnir would not answer his summons.
Even though he understood the nature of the opportunity he had been given, his slightly deficient brain was perhaps unable to support deep reflection. Perhaps, if one wanted to kill him, attacking the heart would be a better strategy than attacking the brain.
After all, his heart was likely several sizes larger than his brain.
"Fine, you are the older brother. You have the final say."
Loki waved his hand, indicating he had no intention of arguing further.
He still had to organize his notes from earlier. Sometimes, a period of quiet study could make one feel peaceful and fulfilled.
Asgard... he would return there eventually.
But he hoped to do so after inheriting the title of Sorcerer Supreme, appearing before Odin with the posture of a truly strong individual.
"Thor! Go back to training!"
Vorusk shouted from a distance. By now, Thor no longer put up pointless resistance. Such disobedience would result in nothing but Vorusk throwing him directly into a Rift.
Vorusk didn't mind Thor taking a break, but the break had been long enough. What he needed now was to continue his training.
Not far away, Kanouk watched as Kaecilius walked out of a Rift, stumbling slightly. Finally, there was a look of approval in the barbarian's eyes.
"Have you finally stopped thinking about those meaningless schemes?"
Kanouk rubbed his arm, the metal of his pauldrons glinting in the light.
Kaecilius now carried the fierce bravery of a warrior, and he had become much more taciturn. This was what satisfied Kanouk the most.
He had always disliked those who shouted and screamed as if everything and everyone had failed them. Rather than exploring possibilities in one's mind for ten thousand years, it was better to simply attempt it early on.
"I still care somewhat about the title of Sorcerer Supreme. I originally thought it was a symbol of power."
Kaecilius patted the hand axe at his waist, speaking with a self-deprecating smile. However, he now carried himself with a much greater sense of calm. Thanks to Kanouk's inhumane training methods, Kaecilius finally understood what he needed to do.
"You aren't powerful because of the title; you are given the title because you are powerful, kid."
Kanouk dug into his pocket, pulled out a bottle of wine, and handed it to Kaecilius.
"I acknowledge you now. You may go wherever you wish to go. Just remember to come back for training."
Kanouk waved his hand dismissal. After a period of arduous training, Kaecilius had finally been corrected.
After losing a mouthful of teeth, an unbreakable mental seal had been stamped onto him. Now, he could go anywhere he wanted. Kanouk believed in the results of his education.
"So, where do you think I should go?"
Kaecilius asked, the corner of his mouth twitching. He had been thrown to Bul-Kathos by the Ancient One. Now that he was free, he had no desire to return to the mages.
Although he no longer held resentment born of shallow greed, he still couldn't quite swallow his pride enough to face them.
"If you have nowhere to go, just teleport over to Rumlow. It seems they have things to do recently. If you plan to continue training, I'm fine with that too."
Kanouk sat cross-legged on the ground and began polishing his shoulder armor again.
He didn't care what Kaecilius did; the man couldn't do anything bad anyway.
Kaecilius chose to find Rumlow and his team without hesitation. Every time he looked at Kanouk's face, he felt a phantom ache in his teeth. Ever since he realized he had snapped hard black bread using nothing but his bare gums, he couldn't look at their daily rations the same way.
Thank you, Thor. Thank you, Asgard!
Kaecilius thought this silently in his heart.
Asgard sent food and wine every day, liberating him from the hell of black bread.
"Hey, Kaecilius! Congratulations on escaping the boring Kanouk!"
Vidan walked over laughing, holding a piece of black bread he had just toasted over the fire.
"By the way, can you perform that again?"
Kaecilius's face turned grim.
"No!"
He had finally grown his teeth back. Now they wanted him to perform snapping black bread with his gums again?
"Vidan, send Kaecilius over to Bul-Kathos's side. The kid hasn't had time to learn teleportation yet, let Bul-Kathos send him off," Kanouk said without looking up.
"No need for the trouble. I was, after all, a mage once."
Kaecilius extended a hand and drew a circle in the air before him, opening a portal to London.
For Rumlow and the others, returning to the Sacred Mountain was a matter of standing still for a moment. Mastering the magic of return was incredibly convenient.
"Remember to tell Rumlow that Talic seems to be planning to look for him," Kanouk said, glancing up at Kaecilius as he was about to step through the portal.
Once the ring of light from the portal vanished, Kanouk turned his head to look at the figure of the Ancient One, who had just materialized.
"Are you satisfied now?"
"I think it went well."
The two exchanged a casual sentence, and then returned to their respective tasks.
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