Chapter 235: God of Mischief_1

Chaos, darkness, coldness — that was all Thor could feel. After a pain that seemed to tear his body apart, he woke up. The moment he realized he was conscious again, he was drowned in terrifying despair and agony.

Thor lay on a desolate piece of land. He strained to open his eyes in the vague white fog around him and what seemed to be a faint halo of light. His lips were chapped, his body ached severely, and his breaths smelled heavily of blood.

Was Loki dead?

Loki... was dead.

He had seen it. Loki was struck by the light of the Rainbow Bridge and returned to the World Tree.

He had also seen his divine status being stripped away. This meant that Loki's flesh had indeed been destroyed. The last thing Loki did before his death was to pour his divinity and Divine Power into Thor.

As Thor laid there, he felt a burning flame throbbing in his chest. He was uncertain whether this was Loki's divinity, or it was his own rage.

The killer of Loki was the Rainbow Bridge, the most powerful weapon of Asgard.

And the one controlling it was Heimdall.

Picturing the reality made him feel like his soul was about to split open with pain.

He couldn't be more aware that Heimdall's primary duty was to guard the Rainbow Bridge. It was impossible for anyone to activate it and attack Loki without bypassing him.

Heimdall killed Loki. Thor didn't want to admit it, but he knew that was the truth.

What led to all this, Thor was reluctant to think, yet he knew, he understood.

Thor always seemed aware that the Asgardians didn't like Loki. Some could even say they viewed him with contempt and disgust. They were even unsatisfied that they were required to bow to Loki due to Odin's rules as they felt Loki was not worthy of any respect or of being an Asgardian.

Thor knew his brother was sensitive and suspicious and had felt hatred several times due to being disregarded by the Asgardians.

Thor was exercised with the fact that he had tolerated everything. He had turned a blind eye to the continuous suspicions and contempt the Asgardians expressed towards Loki.

He remembered words Loki once said to him. Were the actions of these people really void of ambition for power? Just because he was the inheritance to Asgard, they could treat another prince, who had no right to inherit, this way? They imagined him as an enemy, always on guard against him, suspecting him with the greatest malice.

Did they flatter him with respect, carrying their self-righteous hearts for their own gain?

Thor laid there, his thoughts scattered but also incessantly making connections. If he was the one strangling Loki that day, would Heimdall dare to activate the Rainbow Bridge to attack him?

He wouldn't. Thor told himself. Heimdall wouldn't dare because he was the future heir of Asgard, while Loki was just a devalued prince.

That was the most significant reason why this tragedy had happened. Thor closed his eyes and his breaths became increasingly labored. He pondered how the Asgardians overlooked Loki as a result of their discontent with him, their unequal treatment between Loki and the other Asgardians, and what had he done himself?

He had done nothing.

When seeds of discord were sown, he was reveling in honor and military achievements. While the discord deepened, he was basking in the people's admiration for his bravery.

Many people, many things played out before Thor's eyes. He was brother-like to all of his Asgardian peers. They always praised him with smiles, hunting for him and serving him fresh fruits and Dionysium.

Odin's face flashed in Thor's mind. Odin had never expressed satisfaction about this, at least not in Thor's impression. He never praised Thor for his status among the Asgardians.

Perhaps Odin had known all along that there were far too many insincere praises in the world. When one indulges in them, he would inevitably grow arrogant and supercilious.

When did he start becoming like this, Thor wondered.

He began to reminisce about the time when he followed Odin to battle. He was surrounded by the praise of his subordinates and contemporaries. The bigger the sound, the more it inflated his ego, making him believe that he was invincible and deserving of all the praise.

Within these people, would there be any sincere praise? Perhaps there was. There must be some who were genuinely proud of his valor.

But did they truly admire his valor and leadership? Or did they believe that it would bring them and their clans greater glory? No one knew.

Thor suddenly felt it was somewhat ridiculous. He had been so infatuated with such praises, like a dog chasing after a bone. They could manipulate his emotions, making him blindly pleased if they merely moved their mouths with zero effort, causing him to neglect things he shouldn't.

The praises of the subjects and subordinates could earn a King's smile. However, Thor realized that he had made this smile his ultimate goal.

With endless regret and sorrow, a dark fog veiled Thor's consciousness. It slowly sank into deeper darkness. After what felt like an eternity, a drop of icy rain fell on his face. The light touch of a feather on his cheek aroused him from his haziness.

The sound of his breath was very faint, and he heard a sharp voice saying, "He's awake, he's awake!"