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Chapter 150 The Battle Between Jotonheim And The Asgard Warriors
🕑 Added 2025-10-27 10:35:09 +0000 UTCBoom, boom, boom—
Above the icy expanse of Jotunheim, a blinding, multicolored beam of light crashed down from the heavens, sending powerful shockwaves rippling through the frozen landscape.
Thor led three Asgardian warriors—Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg—along with the valiant Lady Sif and his brother, Loki, the God of Mischief, as they descended upon Jotunheim.
After landing, Thor turned to look around—and found himself surrounded by Frost Giants. Seeing the towering, dark-blue figures closing in, a bead of cold sweat formed on his brow.
“Thor Odinson, son of Odin, King of Asgard—what business do you have in my realm?”
King Laufey, ruler of the Frost Giants, glared at Thor with his crimson eyes. A mocking smile curled on his lips—he had known of Thor’s arrival all along.
“Damn it! How did you know about our mission in advance?” Thor muttered under his breath. Though brave, the God of Thunder wasn’t without tactical sense. From Laufey’s tone, he realized the Frost Giant king had anticipated their infiltration.
“There are many traitors around Odin,” Laufey said coldly, his gaze flickering toward Loki with subtle intent. The implication was clear—even Odin might not realize there was a betrayer among his own blood.
“Damn Frost Giant! You dare insult my father!”
Furious, Thor hurled Mjolnir. The hammer shot forward like lightning, smashing through the chests of three towering Frost Giants in an instant.
“Thor Odinson,” Laufey said indifferently, unfazed by the deaths of his warriors, “if you withdraw now, I will pretend this never happened. Do not provoke war between Jotunheim and Asgard.”
He had countless Frost Giants under his command—those who fell could be replaced. What Laufey truly wanted was to push Thor into rash action.
“All right… you win.”
Thor glanced at the endless sea of Frost Giants surrounding them and realized he couldn’t win here. He prepared to retreat.
“This won’t do. If you go back now, how am I supposed to stir things up?”
Hidden nearby, Allens smirked. Raising his right hand, a faint, invisible light flickered—the illusion module of his advanced nano-steel armor activated silently.
Swish.
A barely perceptible shimmer spread over King Laufey’s body. At the same time, Thor heard a taunting voice whisper in his ear—
“Run back home with your tail between your legs, little princess of Asgard.”
The mocking tone sounded exactly like Laufey’s, making Thor freeze in his tracks. His expression twisted into a sneer, and he gripped Mjolnir tightly.
“Laufey—you’re dead!”
With a roar, Thor swung Mjolnir in a powerful arc, the spinning hammer blasting through a dozen Frost Giants around him.
“Foolish Son of Odin! If you defy me, then prepare for war!”
Allens’ illusion worked perfectly—Laufey had no idea what had truly happened. Seeing Thor suddenly attack, Laufey’s rage erupted. With a furious shout, he waved his hand, and countless Frost Giants charged forward.
The battle began. Though outnumbered, Thor, the God of Thunder, fought fiercely. Mjolnir crackled with thunderous might as he struck down giant after giant.
Loki stood behind, casting illusionary magic to confuse the enemies. The Warriors Three fought bravely by Thor’s side, while Lady Sif’s twin blades cut through Frost Giants one after another.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Laufey’s expression darkened as more of his warriors fell. Frost began to spread up his arm as he slammed his fist into the ground.
Crack. Crack.
A terrifying chill radiated outward. Even without the Casket of Ancient Winters, Laufey—the ruler of Jotunheim—still wielded terrifying power, enough to rival even Odin’s might in his prime.
Crack. Crack.
As Thor swung Mjolnir again, the ground beneath his feet froze solid. The intense cold slowed his movements, and even Mjolnir began to frost over.
“Damn it—it’s Laufey’s Frozen Domain!” Loki shouted grimly.
He hadn’t expected Laufey to unleash his most powerful technique. With the Casket of Ancient Winters in hand, Laufey could freeze an entire continent with a single strike. Even without it, his ice powers were still formidable.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Massive ice spires erupted from the ground, encasing Thor and his companions in layers of solid frost. Laufey poured all his strength into his Frozen Domain, trapping even Thor in unbreakable ice.
“Ignorant child… you will soon be our prisoner in Jotunheim,” Laufey sneered.
His original plan had been to delay Thor long enough for Odin to find him and lose faith in his son—but this outcome was even better. Still, Laufey knew Loki’s help came only from self-interest; the trickster god would never truly serve him.
“Damn it… that bastard betrayed me!”
Hidden safely away, Loki had avoided being frozen. From the start, he had cloaked himself in powerful illusion magic, confident that even Laufey couldn’t detect him.
“How amusing,” a cold, mocking voice echoed nearby. “Loki, the God of Mischief, calling someone else a traitor? Truly entertaining.”
The sound sent chills down Loki’s spine. He turned sharply to see a dark-haired man of Midgard—Asian in appearance—standing before him, exuding deadly intent.
“Nice to meet you, Loki… the infamous God of Mischief.”
The man before him—helmet removed—was Allens, his true face revealed. Seeing Loki’s startled expression, Allens smirked faintly.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” Loki demanded, a dagger materializing in his hand.
“My name is Allens,” he said coldly. “Son of Odin… and I’ve come to claim your title.”
Loki’s eyes widened, but before he could react, another Loki appeared behind Allens and drove a dagger straight toward his heart.
“Hmph… foolish mortal.”
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