"Ding! Gained Asgardian Popularity +21,520!"
"Ding! Gained Asgardian Popularity +15,115!"
"Ding! Gained…"
Antony's heart practically exploded with joy.
"Holy hell—this much?!"
This was Asgard.
The population might be small, but every single one of them carried the blood of the Aesir. Even the civilians existed on a higher plane of life than ordinary humans.
This place is a gold mine…
Antony's eyes burned brighter, crimson light flaring.
He turned sharply toward a squadron of Dark Elf scythe-fighters tearing through the far end of the street.
"Hey! You dark-skinned freaks over there!" he bellowed.
"Your grandpa's here!!"
This time, the red in his eyes wasn't anger.
It was pure excitement.
He shot forward like a streak of blue lightning, ripping through the battlefield.
Wherever danger appeared—Antony was there.
Wherever enemies gathered—he charged straight in.
At one point, he even paused to help an elderly woman who had fallen.
"Are you alright, ma'am?"
"Oh, thank you, young man," she said shakily. "You're very handsome… even more handsome than Thor."
"You've got excellent taste."
"Ding! Popularity +1,000!"
Asgardian warriors fighting for their lives suddenly realized something was… off.
There was a new presence on the battlefield.
No sword.
No shield.
He crushed Dark Elves by punching their heads straight into their chests.
He carved enemy ships apart with beams from his eyes like slicing cake.
"W–Who is that?!" an Asgardian soldier shouted.
"Wasn't he… the Midgardian Thor brought back?"
"Midgardians are this strong?!"
"GRENADE!!"
A black-hole grenade rolled to the soldier's feet.
The warrior shut his eyes in despair.
Whoosh—!
A gust of wind.
Antony appeared instantly, punting the grenade skyward like a soccer ball.
"Vmmm—!"
The grenade detonated midair, forming a miniature singularity that devoured everything nearby.
Antony gave the stunned soldier a thumbs-up.
"You fought bravely, warrior. You are the real hero!"
The captain's eyes filled with tears as he raised his spear.
"For Homelander—!"
"Ding! Asgardian Popularity +24,520!"
"Ding! Asgardian Popularity +32,115!"
"Ding!…"
"Current Asgardian Popularity: 1,202,524!"
"Ding! Asgardian Popularity Rank Increased!"
Current Rank: Rising Legend
"Ability Enhancement Applied!"
Invulnerability (Planetary-Class MAX)Super Speed: Mach 155Super Strength: 3,500 Tons
"Oh yeah—this is the good stuff!"
Antony felt like he was playing a roguelike on god-mode.
Every wave cleared came with the crisp sound of coins dropping into his inventory.
If saving a few civilians gives this much popularity…
Then what if I save the queen they worship?
A greedy smile crept onto his face.
"Sorry about this, Your Majesty," Antony murmured.
"But your script?"
"I'm rewriting it."
-----
Meanwhile—Deep within the Royal Palace
Queen Frigga stood alone, dagger in hand, facing Malekith.
Malekith drew his blade, barely sparing her a glance.
That was his mistake.
Frigga was not just a sorceress.
Steel flashed.
Her movements were precise, lethal—each strike calculated.
Within moments, she knocked Malekith's weapon from his grasp, sending it spinning through the air.
The next instant, Malekith was on his knees.
Frigga's dagger pressed firmly against his throat.
But she "failed" to notice the shadow behind her.
The Kurse lunged forward, wrapping an iron grip around her neck and lifting her into the air.
"Urgh—!"
The dagger slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.
She struggled—but against that monstrous strength, it was useless.
Malekith rose and strode toward the corner where Jane Foster stood.
"You took something that does not belong to you."
He reached out—
—and his hand passed through her.
The figure dissolved like smoke.
An illusion.
"WITCH!!" Malekith roared.
Humiliated. Enraged.
He turned and gave a single command.
"Kill her."
The Kurse raised his blade and drove it toward Frigga's back—
A clean execution.
Frigga closed her eyes.
She was ready.
"ZZZZRRRR—!!!"
A deep-red beam of devastating energy tore into the chamber from outside!
Antony did not aim for the Kurse's head—
He remembered the film. That thing tanked Thor and Loki like punching bags.
Instead, the heat vision struck with surgical precision—
His left wrist.
"SPLASH!"
Armor melted. Tendons burned.
"GRAHH—!"
The blade twisted at the last second—
"SHRRK!"
It tore across Frigga's side instead of her heart.
Blood stained her gown—but for an Asgardian, it was not fatal.
"WHO?!" Malekith shouted.
A cold voice echoed from the doorway.
"Is this how you treat a lady?"
"You long-eared, gray-skinned goblin."
Antony hovered at the palace entrance, backlit by fire and smoke.
The stars-and-stripes cape snapped behind him, crimson eyes glowing with restrained fury.
Malekith frowned.
"I don't recognize this warrior…"
Before he could think further—
"NOOOO!!!"
Thunder roared.
Thor arrived.
He saw the blood.
He saw his mother in that creature's grasp.
The God of Thunder lost all restraint.
BOOOOM—!
A bolt of lightning slammed straight into Malekith's face.
"AAAAARGH—!!"
Half his face burned black, flesh splitting open.
The Kurse grabbed him instantly.
"RETREAT!"
Taking a direct hit from Mjolnir, they smashed through the balcony and leapt onto an extraction craft, vanishing back toward the mothership.
…
"No… no… no…"
Thor dropped his hammer and ran, catching Frigga as she collapsed.
"You'll be alright… you'll be alright…!"
The invincible god sobbed like a child.
Frigga's face was pale, blood still seeping from her wound.
She lifted a trembling hand and touched Thor's cheek.
"Don't cry… my son…"
Then she added weakly—
"If you squeeze me any tighter… I actually will die."
--------------
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