"Hey, Aaron, you're late! Get up here!"
Thor, sitting atop his white horse, waved energetically at Aaron, then pointed to the empty warhorse beside him. "We've been waiting for you for ages. We almost thought you were too scared to raise your spear against the enemy!"
Aaron climbed onto the horse, ignoring Loki's piercing gaze. He checked the time and shot back irritably, "Before you say another word, Thor, maybe you should check the time. We still have some time before departure. Who told you to arrive so early?"
"Hahaha! Can you blame me for being excited?" Thor laughed, urging his horse forward as the rest of the army began to follow. "I'm sure every warrior is looking forward to this moment!"
Asgard, though possessing magical technology far beyond Earth's, was proud of its ancient traditions in warfare. Despite their advanced abilities, they still favored close-quarters combat, where soldiers donned battle armor and wielded spears. Horseback riding, however, was reserved for commanders.
Aaron wasn't even a soldier in the traditional sense. Though his strength would easily allow him to become one, he had never undergone the official warrior assessment. In Asgard, every youth must go through training and an assessment to be considered a warrior. Those who excel could rise to the rank of the Golden Hall Guards—Odin's personal elite guards—donning indestructible full-body armor and entrusted with protecting the palace.
But Aaron was different. As a member of Thor's inner circle, he was part of a privileged few. Riding ahead on horseback alongside Thor was a symbol of his newfound status, which was, to some extent, tacitly approved by Odin. After all, Heimdall, the ever-loyal guardian of Bifrost, had no objections.
"Aaron, I heard you've been in 'retreat' for the past seven days," Loki remarked with a sly smile. "Seems like you've made quite a bit of progress! Care to share any details?"
Loki, always wary of Aaron's growing strength, saw him as his greatest rival. When he heard of Aaron's intense training over the past week, he grew curious. It was a rare opportunity to gain insight into Aaron's recent advancements, especially since Loki had spent the past days with Frigga, trying to improve himself.
"It's a surprise," Aaron replied with a cryptic smile. "You'll see soon enough."
Aaron didn't feel the need to elaborate. Even if he did explain the strides he'd made, no one would believe it. In just seven days, he had raised several of his abilities to levels most could never dream of achieving. It was an extraordinary feat, and anyone who heard it would likely think him a liar.
Loki's eyes narrowed, a mix of resentment and growing fear toward Aaron clouding his thoughts. Though Aaron had said nothing, his words had said everything.
"Damn it, am I really not as good as him? How much has he improved in just a week?" Loki thought bitterly. Magic wasn't something that could be mastered overnight—except, it seemed, for Aaron.
"Is he really some kind of magical freak?" Loki's thoughts were interrupted as Thor's voice boomed.
"Hey, why don't we make this interesting?" Thor suggested with a grin, his excitement palpable. "Since Aaron is so confident, let's have a competition! We'll see who can defeat the most enemies and do it the fastest."
"The loser will foot the bill for the celebration banquet afterward!" Thor added, laughing.
Fandral, ever the bold one, was the first to agree. "Alright, I'm in! And Aaron, don't think you'll be winning this time. I lost to you in the last sword fight, but this time, I won't be beaten!"
Fandral's reasoning was simple. Although Aaron was skilled with a sword, he was still inexperienced on the battlefield. No matter how strong his swordsmanship was, real combat was an entirely different beast. A battle wasn't a friendly sparring match—there would be no one-on-one duels, and the battlefield was a chaotic place.
"Let's see if you can handle the heat of real combat, Aaron," Fandral thought, eager for the competition. "I'll make sure to win this time."
"Fine. If I win, you owe me two meals!" Aaron teased, enjoying the playful banter.
"Deal!" Fandral immediately agreed, full of confidence.
Loki, meanwhile, couldn't help but roll his eyes. He had his doubts about Fandral's chances, but he was still impressed by his courage. "Betting with Aaron, huh? I wouldn't be so sure, Fandral," Loki thought, shaking his head. "But good luck."
As the group continued their playful conversation, they walked toward the Bifrost center, unaware of the imminent danger they were about to face.
Everyone in the group was confident in their abilities and in the upcoming battle.
"Heimdall, we're ready!" Thor called out.
Heimdall nodded, raising his sword. The mighty Bifrost opened before them—a shimmering golden portal to Vanaheim.
"For Asgard!" Thor bellowed as he raised Mjolnir high and led the charge through the portal.
Behind him, thousands of Asgard warriors followed in unison, their spears raised high, echoing the battle cry as they marched through the portal, crossing light-years in an instant. Vanaheim awaited them—a kingdom of gods, now on the brink of being overrun.
At the rebel camp in Vanaheim, the enemy soldiers stood in stunned silence. Just as they had finished gathering their forces, word of Asgard's arrival hit them. They couldn't believe it. How was Asgard still alive?
Meanwhile...
Unbeknownst to Thor and the others, Odin, too, had teleported to the Bifrost center. Using magic, he observed every move his son and the army made through his all-seeing eyes.
He was more concerned about Thor than anyone else.